We arrive under the window ledge. James inches up, looks in and then immediately drops down again, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “Jeez… She’s a fucking lunatic sometimes.”

Michael huffs. “What’s she doing?”

“Winding them up, drawing them onto her. I think she’s enjoying it.”

“You fucking bastards!” shrieks the voice. “You think you can do me? Let’s see if you’re up to it….”

Michael’s eyes meet mine and together we slide up, looking inside.

The room is large, Klempner and his men gathered in a group…. And there’s Elizabeth.

My gut tightens. My beautiful Elizabeth. On the floor, hunched in on herself, arms wrapped around her knees she rocks herself. Her eyes are swollen with weeping, fiercely red against her pale face.

She’s terrified….

…. and Charlotte will keep her that way….

Keep up the pretence….

But the fear on her face is being nudged over by disbelief at what she sees. And at least for now, she’s safe. Everyone is ignoring her.

Charlotte is on her knees. She’s naked and what remains of her clothes are on the floor around her in tattered shreds. She’s facing us, but not looking at the window. Her eyes are fixed on Klempner, looming above her.

She’s not remotely fearful and she’s screeching like a demon at the men who, supposedly, are in control. Her eyes are black saucers rimmed by green. Head tossing, her hair billows and swings around her with the movement and her face is twisted as she screams defiance at her captors.

Klempner and the men with him are all watching her….

Not us….

…. with expressions of utter incredulity.

Michael hisses to James, “You’re not seriously suggesting that she’s getting off on this?”

“Look at her. At her face, her eyes.”

He’s right….

If Old Nick incarnate came winging up from below, he couldn’t look much wilder than this.

And I can’t help myself. She’s not mine. She’s not Elizabeth, but….

What a woman….

And she’s James’ sub?

Michael nudges up again, and as his blond hair catches the light, for the briefest of instants, her eyes flash to him and then immediately away.

She stands, naked, clothed only in the long red hair which swirls and sways around her, pacing like a caged animal, snarling. For all her fury and the violence writ across her face, she’s not out of control. She’s graceful and agile as, mesmerising her audience, she raves at them, jabbing fingers at one after another.

“C’mon…. Big brave men. All of you with guns, on one little girl? You think you can fuck me? Let’s see what you’re really made of....”

“She’s like a fucking wild animal,” I say.

And that’s not an insult….

the room, clicks

*****

James

you scare me? I’m long

flying. She hits the floor panting, wiping blood from her

Christ….

hear it. The smack of flesh against hard tiles as she lands sends a shudder

leans in close. “What’s

Good question….

I’ve never found out….

gone too far, it’s been emotional, not

mood,” I say, through gritted

Is she a pain-junkie?

I turned her into

Perhaps….

“She doesn’t scare

scares. It just

voice impatient. “We need to

deep breath. “Yes, but let’s take the time to do this right. There’s more of them than us and they’re

cold-blooded bastard. Are you

Cool it….

inside again at what’s

Christ!

Let’s not waste her efforts. And no, when we get the women out of

back, his nostrils flaring

being hunted, abused.

look to

calmer voice, Michael continues, “What do we do? One’s accounted

“Five against three.”

“Five? Why five?”

of one, and another’s about to shove his cock between

eyes and turns

and swallows.

again, watching

Ah, Jeez… they’re stripping…

She’s going to have

put their guns

terror and admiration, I measure the room in my head, what I can

exit to

there a minute. I’m going to see if there’s a rear entrance. Klempner’s

farmhouse, ducking under another brightly

ever-so-gently turn the handle, it nudges open. Carefully I click it closed

spirit of experimentation, I try the lock,

Careless….

…. But handy….

It’s a tool-shed.

Bingo!

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