Love Lies Dying (48 page)

Forty-five

The pain was excruciating.

“You can’t just lie here, pal.”

Richard’s voice entered his mind.

What else can I do?

“She’ll be back soon!”

I know that.

“This is your best chance to escape.”

I can’t get out of this. I can’t! Can’t you feel the pain in my cock?

“So?”

SO? What do you mean by that? I can’t escape now!

“Always thinking with your little head instead of your big head, John,” Richard replied.

I can’t do anything about this situation. I’ll just have to wait.

“Isn’t a small amount of pain worth it if you can escape?”

I don’t think ripping the skin off my manhood is worth anything!

“Oh no,” Richard mocked. “Heaven forbid if you cause a bit of pain to Mr. Happy. Can’t have him spilling any blood, now can we?”

Shut up, Richard. I don’t need your help.

“You need something…”

Quiet, I can win this on my own terms.

“Really? Looks like Zoe has all the cards at the moment. And if you think this is extreme, can you imagine what she has planned for you when she returns?”

Shut up!

“Pal, you’ve got to do something, and do it quick!”

I can’t!

“This game’s life and death. This is
serious!
You’ve got to do something!”

But
what?
I can’t!

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

I told you to keep quiet!

John’s shoulder muscles began to ache as he tried to stretch further. The pressure on the ring in his cock was the same and the pain continued to ebb.

“I think you want to be dominated by this girl.”

That’s not true!

“I think you’re enjoying it.”

That’s certainly one thing I’m
not
doing!

“Yeah, yeah. I know, pal. They’ve got a word for that, you know. It’s denial.”

Shut it, Richard.

“I think you’re liking every minute of it.”

I’m not!

“But you tell her you are!”

John’s body tensed more.

Shut the fuck up!

“And you’re saying, fuck Helen, fuck everything I’ve ever cared about or worked for. Fuck you, world. I’m gonna let this little nympho screw my brains out.”

I’m not saying that at all!

“I want her to screw me, to fuck me until I bleed. I love it!”

I will not!

John’s arms tensed. The pain in his cock intensified.

“Then
do something!
”

I am!

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

I am!

John’s hands turned into fists.

“You’re pathetic, John. She’s walking all over you and you’re letting her. You’re a man, but she’s in control. And you’re
loving
it!”

Fuck you!

“No, fuck
you
, John. That’s what she’s doing! Screwing you and
screwing you!
Big time! You’ve become her little doggy fuck slave.”

No, I haven’t.

“You have, John.”

No!

“Woof woof!”

No! NO!

“Bark for me, John. Bark!”

Fuck you, Richard. Fuck the hell off!

“Or do you only bark for your bitch?”

The yell built in his chest and exploded outwards. Despite the pain, John screamed deep and long; primeval. He pulled at the handcuffs around his wrists. He tugged at the rope tied around his ankles. The pain in his cock didn’t matter to him now. His whole body cried out for release.

His scream died away to the echoes in the church.

And his handcuffs slipped forward.

John froze on the bed for one still moment.

He was sure of it. The handcuffs had slipped forward, but only for a second.

The pains in his chest, arms and legs were intense, and his cock felt swollen and hot. But he didn’t care.

Not now.

He tilted his head backwards.

The chords in his neck strained as he pushed the top of his head down into the mattress.

The pain was growing by the second, and he could feel a muscle cramp building in his back, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Everything he saw was upside down now, with his head tilted back at such an angle. He could see his hands, the handcuffs around them, and the chain link that ran between the cuffs and around behind one of the vertical wooden slats that made up the partition.

The vertical slats had small crosses cut out of them, one on top of the other, each about two inches apart.

That would weaken the wood,
he thought.

But the wood was top quality and wasn’t going to bend easily.

The thick hand-railing ran horizontally along the top of each of the slats. The slats were held in position by a small groove cut into the railing, one for each slat. John tried to rattle the slat the handcuff chain was wrapped around, but it didn’t move. It was held tight by its groove and the handrail.

But the handcuffs moved! They slipped forward somehow, I’m sure of it!

Ignoring the pain in his legs and back, and the pulling of the leash on his cock, John flexed his arms and got ready to pull.

Slowly, he pulled forward on the handcuffs.

The metal chain scraped across the wood.

But nothing else.

They moved forward, damn it. I know they did!

He pulled harder, the pain growing in his body.

The vertical slats held.

How? How did the cuffs move forward?

He braced himself and took a deep breath for one last try.

He pulled hard. Every ounce of strength he had left poured into his arms as he pulled down on the handcuffs. The chain scraped the other way, across the slat once more. He twisted his body, trying to force the slat to break or at least move.

The pain intensified. A back spasm bit hard and sudden, causing him to jerk sideways. The ropes held him in place but he didn’t take his eyes off the railing. The leash pulled harder than ever now, his cock quickly numbing to the pain.

The handcuffs slid upwards towards the handrail.

No, that’s further away!

He arched his back more, trying to create more reach, but the muscles in his back cramped and his body stiffened as the pain took hold.

And just before he shut his eyes to scream in agony and let his body crash back to the bed, he saw the handcuffs shoot up higher to the top of the slat.

They cannoned into the underside of the hand-railing.

And the hand-railing lifted up.

Huh?

It was a slight movement, but he had seen it!

As he lay on the bed, waiting for the pain and the cramps to subside, he played the images over in his mind.

Yes, I did see it. The hand-railing moved. I raised it! And the slat moved forward slightly in its groove. It did! I saw it!

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, unmoving, waiting for his breath to normalise and for the cramps to disappear. It felt like a long time. But in that time, he worked out exactly what he would do.

He waited until the pain became more bearable. The constant painful tugging by the leash on his ring had made his cock go numb, and John wanted to use that to his advantage.

If I can’t feel it, I don’t know what damage I’m doing until it’s too late.

When he was ready, he arched his back again and tilted his head backwards. He watched as he lifted the handcuffs as far as he could. They slid up the wooden slat, but it wasn’t enough to reach the underside of the hand-rail.

He arched himself further.

The ropes bit into his ankles as he stretched and the dull pulling on his cock continued.

The handcuffs slid slowly higher on the slat, passing one of the cut-out crosses.

He was two crosses away from the handrail.

He stretched more; every millimetre higher was a small victory. He set his mind on reaching the top of the second cross cut out of the slat.

When he got there, he breathed a sigh of relief. He waited for a second, using the weight of his body and the chain between the handcuffs to hold his position high up on the slat. And then he started inching up the final cross.

Slowly.

Ever so slowly.

His body screamed for relief, but he wouldn’t allow it. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes darted across to the wound along his left arm; sweat beaded around the tear in his skin.

Those stitches better hold,
he told himself.

The chain nudged against the underside of the handrail.

Finally! Yes!

Breathing through his nose, trying to control his ever-increasing breath, John readied himself for the final hurdle.

The sweat rolled down into his hair.

John licked at his lips.

Just a little further.

He stretched and pulled the handcuffs upwards.

They inched up, taking the handrail with them.

Yes!

He did it again.

The handrail lifted more.

Yes! I did it. Not much more now. Please, not much more!

The railing was only two inches thick. That had to mean the slats could only sit an inch or less into the railing.

An inch or less to freedom! Come on!

Another back spasm tightened on his muscles.

No!

He arched his back more to fight it, but it bit harder, shooting pain through his whole body.

No, not when I’m so close!

He gritted his teeth, fighting the pain.

Not now.

He slid upwards more.

Not now, when I’ve almost won!

A cramp bit into his thigh, twisting him to the left.

“NO!” he screamed as his body flexed, arching him even more and lifting him from the bed.

He pushed with his ankles, using whatever small extra reach he had, and made one last lunge.

He reached forward, his hands stretching upwards.

The chain slid higher.

The railing jumped.

And the slat popped out.

It fell towards him with a clatter as his hands shot forward, above his face, landing forcefully on his stomach.

The air whooshed from his chest and the metal of the handcuffs felt cold on his hot sweaty body.

He closed his eyes and let his body go limp.

Free.

The pain and cramps rolled across him.

He let them.

They’re free. My hands are free.

And slowly the pain ebbed away.

Free. I’m free...

At last.

Forty-six

I can’t just lie here.

He knew that. But he wanted to let the pain ease.

And the bed was so comfortable.

She could be back at any minute!

He knew he had to act, and act soon. He had no idea how long Zoe had been gone.

Or how long he had been laying there since freeing his hands from above him.

She could be driving back up the driveway now!

He sat up in the bed, ignoring the complaints of the muscles in his back. He had to get moving as soon as possible. The quicker he could get away from here, the better.

He listened for the sound of a car engine. There wasn’t one.

He looked down at his cock. The leash was knotted tightly to the ring. John could see the tears in the skin where the ring had torn away when it had pulled hard. There was some blood, but not much.

He pushed himself down the bed, bending his knees for leverage, relieving the tension from the leash. He reached down with his cuffed hands and began to undo the knot.

But what about Zoe and Fox?

What about them?

You need her to get to him.

I can’t worry about that now. I have to save myself.

You swore revenge for Helen!

I know.

You promised her.

I know! But this is different now.

Different?

There are other ways.

How?

I’ll call the cops!

Do you think that will work?

I don’t know.

You mean you don’t care.

I can’t worry about that now. I have to get out and save myself first.

Save yourself?

I have to.

Again?

I have to!

Coward!

Don’t call me that!

The leash knot unravelled in his fingers and he gently pulled it out from the ring. His cock sprang back and rested on his balls, the pain a dull throb.

Almost there.

He pushed himself forward and over the end of the bed. Quickly, he began untying the ropes around his ankles.

Gotta do this quick. Gotta get out of here.

And go where?

Anywhere but here.

As he untied the knots around his ankles, he kept his ears sharply focussed on the noises outside. The breeze was blowing stronger now, through the trees, and he could hear the rustle of the leaves. He didn’t know how much time he had left, but he had to make the most of it. Zoe could be back at any moment.

The knot around his right ankle unravelled. He started on the one around his left ankle.

His hands moved feverishly even though he told himself to calm down. The handcuffs made movement difficult, the chain and the thick metal of the cuffs not always allowing his hands to do what he wanted.

But eventually the rope untied and his left ankle was free.

He took a moment to rub his ankles with his hands, massaging away the rope burns and flaked skin.

As he did so, he looked around the church, double checking Zoe wasn’t there, hiding in some corner.

She left in the Jeep.

I know that.

So there’s nothing to check, get going.

I’m just being careful.

There’s no time for that. Go!

He stood up from the bed, walked past the railing and crept into the middle of the church.

His eyes darted around him as he did so, looking for any sign of trouble. He peered out the windows as he passed them, expecting to see Zoe’s face staring in at him. But there were no faces pushed up against the stained-glass.

He ran to the lectern, his bare feet slapping loudly on the floorboards.

Quickly, he climbed the spiral staircase two steps at a time.

His eyes darted to the King James Bible.

His key ring was gone.

No!

He stopped dead in his tracks.

NO!

His eyes searched the top of the Bible, but there was nothing there.

But I saw it!

He searched the whole lectern, checking to see if the key ring had fallen down somehow, trying to find a hiding spot, some secret compartment.

There wasn’t any.

It was there! I saw it.

There was no sign of the key ring or the red key.

The key to freedom.

He looked down at the handcuffs attached to his wrists.

Damn her, she must’ve seen me looking at them. She must’ve moved them somewhere else!

Or she took them with her.

Yeah, that’s possible.

So what now?

John’s eyes moved to the access hatch. It was closed. He climbed the last few remaining stairs and squatted down in front of the hatch. He reached out and pulled the handle. It was locked.

She said my clothes were in there.

No chance of getting them now.

I’ll just have to go without them.

He turned around and stood by the lectern, looking out across the church below him. His eyes scanned the whole room, but there were no keys to be seen anywhere.

I could break into the access hatch given time.

Yeah, time you don’t have!

John turned to the stairs and climbed back down them.

Time was precious, he knew it, and he wasn’t going to let his best chance of escape slip through his fingers.

I’m not going to waste it.

He marched across to the kitchenette, reached out with his handcuffed hands and picked up the receiver of the phone. He placed it to his ear.

He heard the dial tone, and breathed a large sigh of relief.

Yes!

Holding the receiver in both hands, he began to dial.