Read Online The Death Strain by Nick Carter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nick Carter
Tags: det_espionage
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enter at the head of a procession, walking slowly, murmuring chants. The two women joined the group as they all knelt in front of the stone slab. As the women kept up the chant, the men, led by Tumo, stood on both sides of the stone and rubbed their hands over the girl's naked form. It was more fear than pain that made Rita cry out. The pain would be coming soon enough. Finally they withdrew from the girl and joined the women in further chants. The candles continued to burn steadily and I could see the metal strips starting to fill up with hot, liquid wax.
I'd long since tested the wrist ropes and found them too tough to break. Hugo was still strapped to my forearm but, for the moment, of no help at all. Unless I found some way to get loose, Rita Kenmore would die and I'd be next. The wax would splash down on her little by little, with burning, scalding pain, finally covering the lovely lips and face until suffocation finished it off.
Unexpectedly the chanting stopped and the whole troupe rose and silently filed out of the main room. Rita's eyes were filled with tears as she turned her head and looked across at me.
I was busy figuring a way to get out of there. My eyes swept over the girl's naked form without regard for the utter loveliness of it I — was looking at her hands. They were free to open and close, even though her wrists were strapped to the stone. She could hold something in them, like Hugo! I didn't know how long we'd be alone,
so
it was now or never.
I started to propel myself across the floor, inch-worm fashion with ankles bound together. I was only halfway across when I realized my clothes were soaked with perspiration but I kept moving along, sometimes turning on my back and pushing myself forward, then scooting along on my side.
When I reached the edge of the stone slab, I had to stop for a moment to regain my breath. My chest was heaving and my mouth was dry, muscles strained and crying out for release. Sitting up, as straight as possible, I leaned my forehead against the edge of the stone slab and balanced myself as I managed to pull myself upright. It was precariously uncertain with ankles bound tightly together. But finally I was standing, hands still tight behind my back, leaning half across Rita's naked body to keep my balance enough to stay upright. My head came to rest on her right breast. In any other circumstances I'd have enjoyed it immensely.
My lips rubbed across one small pink tip.
Pulling myself along the edge of the slab, I stopped where her hand lay against the stone. Still bent forward, my head now resting on her thighs, I glanced up over the rise of the belly and the dark mound just in front of my eyes.
"Listen carefully to me" I said. "I'm going to turn around and I'll have a stiletto in my hand. I'm going to put it into your hand. You hold it tight, point up, and I'll shred these wrist ropes against it. Understand?"
"Yes," I heard her say, her voice strained, hoarse. I turned, carefully, fighting to stay upright and keep my balance. Pressing my forearm against the edge of the slab, I released Hugo and felt the stiletto drop from its sheath into my hand. Maneuvering cautiously, I felt Rita's open hand and put the stiletto into it. I held on until I felt her hand close around the hilt of the blade.
"Good girl," I said. "Now hold it tight." Slowly, taking care not to dislodge Hugo from her grip, I pressed the wrist ropes against the blade, moving them up and down against it, sometimes bringing them down onto the point. I had just gotten started when it happened, all at once. I knew rather than saw what had occurred. The first thing was Rita's scream of pure pain. Her hand opened involuntarily and I felt the stiletto fall from it and heard it land on the floor.
I lost my balance and fell forward, twisting my body to avoid a bashed face. As I did so I saw that the first funnel of molten hot wax had let go and the substance lay over the girl's abdomen, still emitting little wisps
I'd long since tested the wrist ropes and found them too tough to break. Hugo was still strapped to my forearm but, for the moment, of no help at all. Unless I found some way to get loose, Rita Kenmore would die and I'd be next. The wax would splash down on her little by little, with burning, scalding pain, finally covering the lovely lips and face until suffocation finished it off.
Unexpectedly the chanting stopped and the whole troupe rose and silently filed out of the main room. Rita's eyes were filled with tears as she turned her head and looked across at me.
I was busy figuring a way to get out of there. My eyes swept over the girl's naked form without regard for the utter loveliness of it I — was looking at her hands. They were free to open and close, even though her wrists were strapped to the stone. She could hold something in them, like Hugo! I didn't know how long we'd be alone,
so
it was now or never.
I started to propel myself across the floor, inch-worm fashion with ankles bound together. I was only halfway across when I realized my clothes were soaked with perspiration but I kept moving along, sometimes turning on my back and pushing myself forward, then scooting along on my side.
When I reached the edge of the stone slab, I had to stop for a moment to regain my breath. My chest was heaving and my mouth was dry, muscles strained and crying out for release. Sitting up, as straight as possible, I leaned my forehead against the edge of the stone slab and balanced myself as I managed to pull myself upright. It was precariously uncertain with ankles bound tightly together. But finally I was standing, hands still tight behind my back, leaning half across Rita's naked body to keep my balance enough to stay upright. My head came to rest on her right breast. In any other circumstances I'd have enjoyed it immensely.
My lips rubbed across one small pink tip.
Pulling myself along the edge of the slab, I stopped where her hand lay against the stone. Still bent forward, my head now resting on her thighs, I glanced up over the rise of the belly and the dark mound just in front of my eyes.
"Listen carefully to me" I said. "I'm going to turn around and I'll have a stiletto in my hand. I'm going to put it into your hand. You hold it tight, point up, and I'll shred these wrist ropes against it. Understand?"
"Yes," I heard her say, her voice strained, hoarse. I turned, carefully, fighting to stay upright and keep my balance. Pressing my forearm against the edge of the slab, I released Hugo and felt the stiletto drop from its sheath into my hand. Maneuvering cautiously, I felt Rita's open hand and put the stiletto into it. I held on until I felt her hand close around the hilt of the blade.
"Good girl," I said. "Now hold it tight." Slowly, taking care not to dislodge Hugo from her grip, I pressed the wrist ropes against the blade, moving them up and down against it, sometimes bringing them down onto the point. I had just gotten started when it happened, all at once. I knew rather than saw what had occurred. The first thing was Rita's scream of pure pain. Her hand opened involuntarily and I felt the stiletto fall from it and heard it land on the floor.
I lost my balance and fell forward, twisting my body to avoid a bashed face. As I did so I saw that the first funnel of molten hot wax had let go and the substance lay over the girl's abdomen, still emitting little wisps
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