Your façade is almost perfect, but I can see right through you. I’m not sure there’s even anything I can help you with except to give you what you want – pain. This will be a lesson for the both of us and I hope you can teach me to embrace my sadism fully, as my other Chapters have pigeon-holed me and not allowed that side of me to come out completely.
Pre-activity:
I made my offer to you and was pleased that you accepted, though I expected as much. Your STD check has returned clean and I’m eager to get started working on you. I have secured a quaint bungalow not far from my place and out of view from the rest of the world. The solitude will allow for us to play hard and permit you to scream without fear of being heard, and you will scream, C5. I promise .
Surveillance Notes:
I have watched you closely. You’re discreet. I like that. Not much else to tell. You’re a woman of habit and a professional when it comes to your businesses, but behind closed doors is where I suspect you’ll really shine.
Weekend 1:
Your physical exam was disturbing. Though your physique is attractive, you bear the scars of a true masochist. I must commend you, though, on hiding them well. Long sleeved-shirts, slacks and long skirts at all times…they should’ve been tell-tale signs, yet I wasn’t prepared to see what I did. But your battle wounds will not dissuade me from my ultimate goal. Perhaps I can add some of my artwork to your canvas. Yes, I like that idea very much.
With tears blinding your eyes and choking your voice, our journey has started with snap of leather and a bang. Though I may seemingly be unmoved by your sobs, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I am moved. Deeply.
Elsa sighed with relief. There was hope for Victor. She reached for her coffee to find it still too hot to drink and put it back down.
I am moved in a way that’s hard to describe without sounding disturbed. Even now as I relive the pain that I put you through, my cock hardens and my breathing quickens. There is no sinking anguish in accepting what I am. I accepted it long ago. There is no refuting my blood line there’s no point in denying who I am. I can only add that I’m glad to have found a willing participant to allow me to experiment on.
Elsa’s wistfulness instantly vanished leaving her with an inexplicable sense of emptiness. She couldn’t and wouldn’t believe that he was truly a sadist. Not the kind that enjoyed inflicting pain just for the sake of it. He hadn’t inflicted any pain on her. Not serious pain. Suddenly she became conscious of a low tortured sob coming from her. She didn’t care who he thought he was or where he came from.
She didn’t know for sure, but her feminine intuition was telling her that he hadn’t always been cruel. She had seen little glimpses of his kindness and he had even admitted that he loved before. What happened to that man? Who besides his mother had hurt him so badly that he chose to hide behind Mr. Black to avoid further injury to his heart?
Her phone rang out loudly, startling her and causing her to knock the coffee mug into her lap. The hot liquid drenched her thighs and immediately scalded her. She stood and pulled the fabric of her skirt away from her skin.
The phone rang again. She was so engrossed in trying to relieve the scorching pain now setting in, she had forgotten the reason it happened. Absentmindedly, she reached for the phone and answered as she rushed to the restroom for relief.
“This is Elsa,” she choked out, still crying from the revelation about Victor and now the burns on her thighs.
“What’s wrong?” Victor’s stressed voice boomed.
Elsa’s throat tightened. “I just burned myself. The phone startled me and I tipped my hot coffee over into my lap…” she lifted her skirt to see blisters forming and she shrieked when she placed a wet paper towel onto her legs.
“How bad is it?” There was a faint tremor in his voice as though some emotion had touched him.
She frowned. Maybe he was enjoying that she had hurt herself. “I can’t talk. It’s blistering and I need to take care of this,” she cried.
“Go to the ER. Burns can become infected easily,” he ordered sternly.
“You’re overreacting. I’m not going to the ER,” she hissed through her teeth as the pain and heat began to throb.
“I mean it, Elsa.”
“I have to go,” she abruptly hung up to deal with her wounds.
She walked quickly down the hall to the break room and retrieved several ice cubes from the refrigerator to try and alleviate the intense pain, but it was pointless. Victor was right.
*
As she lay in the emergency room bed with salve and gauze dressings covering her wounds, she called her mother to let her know what had happened. She was alone in a new city and she just needed some mommy medicine to make her feel better. When her mother answered, her raspy voice filled her with warmth.
“Mom,” she began to cry. Her tears weren’t only because of her injury, but because of that damned manuscript and Mr. Black.
“What’s wrong, El?” her mother’s soothing voice held a note of tension.
Where should she begin? She wanted to tell her mom everything from about how she had signed her freedom away to a stranger, to how she had broken the law by breaking into an FBI’s agent’s house, to having fallen for him.
Instead, all that came out was, “I’m at the hospital. I burned myself.”
“Oh, baby…” her mom broke off. “Are you okay? Should I come out there?”
She shook her head as if her mom could see her. “No, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“You could hear it more often if you called,” she huffed.
“Please don’t lecture me, Mom. I know. I’ve just been avoiding hearing you tell me how immature it was for me to move here,” she sniffed.
“I don’t think it was immature. I think it was a little rash, but you’ve always had a mind of your own. And what do I know? Maybe it was a good idea to get away from that son-of-a-bitch Patrick.”
Elsa smiled and wiped her tears away.
“I love you, El, and so does your brother. Even though I know he can be a real prick to you sometimes.”
She really did love her mom and her way with words. “Nick the Prick. I like that. I’ll have to call him that the next time I see him,” she laughed.
“Is there anything else wrong?” her mom probed.
How the hell did she do that? Her mom always had a sixth sense about her. She could never get away with anything when she was a teenager because of it.
Elsa hated to lie to her, but had no choice. The truth was just too ugly and bizarre.
“Nothing else is wrong.”
“I’ll be there on Tuesday,” her mother said with finality.
*
Three hours later, Elsa’s impatience was getting the best of her as she waited to be discharged from the ER. She flipped through the channels on the television in the room, wishing she was doing some reading instead, but the Chronicles of Mr. Black were at her office. It was probably better that way. With the drugs she was on, she might be prone to vivid nightmares if she read any more.
Just as she closed her eyes for a quick nap, she felt hot hands on her face, pushing her hair back. The medication had fully kicked in, making her drowsy, but she pried her eyes open to see Victor standing next to her bed. Too stunned at seeing him, she lay motionless without saying anything.