Page 40 of Phantasm

“What are you doing?” I ask croakily, my nerves ratcheting another level.

He secures me to the pole and slowly slides down the zipper of my dress. A cool breeze from an open window brushes against my back as I attempt to glance behind me, but I can’t see him or the Pawns. With a sharp tug, he tears the dress the rest of the way, leaving it hanging in tatters around me, and then he removes my panties, so I’m left in just my bra and heels.

Whimpering, I yank on the handcuffs.

“Do you like what you see, gentlemen?” Darian asks the Pawns from somewhere behind me.

“She’s beautiful, sir.”

Darian strokes his big hand over my hair, and when I plead with him to let me go, he shushes me before addressing the Pawns. “Spank her raw.”

Fear latches onto my heart, and I rattle the handcuffs again. “No, Darian, no. Please, don’t let them do this. I’m sorry.”

Agonizingly long seconds pass until heavy footsteps drown out my frenzied panic, and I tug hard on the handcuffs. It hurts, but I’m too high on adrenaline to truly feel it.

One of the men grabs my hair and stares at me through a creepy beaked duck mask.

A hard slap lands on my ass, causing me to cry out, and laughter whips my skin as I try to find Darian in the room. He’s leaning against a wardrobe, hands in his pockets, his intense gaze on me.

Another hard smack connects with my burning ass cheek, and I fall forward against the pole. More slaps follow, brutal and degrading, as I drown in Darian’s eyes.

Behind me, the men laugh, alternating between squeezing my ass cheeks and smacking them hard enough to cause my knees to buckle.

Darian smirks, and my nipples ache from that hungry look alone, but then another brutal slap steals my breath, the insidesof my thighs sticky with arousal. I throb all over, yearning for Darian to unleash the restrained monster lurking in his gaze.

As I watch, he unzips his pants and shoves his hand inside his briefs to stroke his hard erection.

I don’t feel the smacks anymore, and my ass is no longer burning; it’s ice cold with pain instead and a roadmap of handprints. Yet they keep spanking me and degrading me with their cruel laughter.

A deprived part of me loves every second because it has set something sinister loose in Darian’s eyes. Something that’s circling and preying on us.

My inner walls clench as his hand moves inside his briefs. He wets his lips, his heavy-lidded gaze intense, before reaching into the back of his pants to pull out a gun. I can barely process what’s happening when he fires two shots, blood spraying over my bare back, warm and coppery.

The men drop to the floor.

I tremble, staring down at them over my shoulder.

Darian palms my numb ass. “Such perfection,” he whispers, sliding his thumb between my cheeks, chuckling softly when I tense up. He then presses the barrel against my temple before trailing bites and licks across my shoulder, his breath brushing against the curve of my neck. “Are you ready to apologize now, or do more people have to die first?”

“I’m sorry…” My voice shakes as much as my body.

“There’s a good girl. It isn’t so hard to keep that pretty mouth in check, is it?”

One of the men is still alive, groaning on the floor and clutching his bleeding chest. The bullet went straight through him.

Darian picks up my panties off the floor, walks over to the dying man, and stuffs his windpipe with the silk fabric. Hestraightens up and watches me observe the Pawn. I’ve never witnessed such a prolonged death before.

The Pawn’s wide, terrified eyes lock on mine, and I pulse in forbidden places as I watch the life drain from him.

I’m sick for liking this.

Darian slides a pocketknife from his pants and then proceeds to strip the men naked and remove their genitalia. It’s gory and gruesome and utterly fascinating.

When he’s done, he puts the severed cocks on the bed for me to see, but I’m more turned on by his blood-soaked, veiny hands.

“Don’t say I don’t bring you trophies. You better enjoy this moment, because it’s the closest you’ll ever get to other dicks.”

“You’re sick.”