Page 64 of Unexpected Redemption

We’ll see about that.

“Do you know who I am, Yev?” I ask, ignoring his declaration entirely.

Shep moves in, putting his booted foot on Yev’s cheek, pressing him into the ground. Not particularly painful, but not pleasant. More demeaning than anything. The head games must start at the onset. The sooner he realizes he’s fucked and accepts his fate, the sooner he’ll start talking about what we care to hear instead of his bullshit assertions.

“Answer him,” Shep snarls, shifting his frame to increase the weight on his foot. “Do you know who he is?”

“Don’t care.”Yev spits in my direction, missing entirely since his face is smashed under Shep’s boot.

Keeping my voice flat and unaffected, I respond, “You should care. Since it was my girl you hurt, I get the honor of deciding ifyou live or die. And if you die, I’ll determine how painful it will be and what we do to your corpse. You think about that while my friends and I get you ready for round one.”

Shep releases Yev’s head. Standing swiftly, I move beside his lower body.

“Take his shoes off,” I order.

Aaron responds instantly, stripping his feet bare and tossing his shoes and socks into the corner of the room.

Grabbing the juncture of the ropes I’ve tied him with, I yank firmly, tugging him onto his stomach without a trace of gentleness. His legs and elbows stay trussed behind him, making him look like he’s ready to be put on a spit and roasted. I chuckle morosely at the tempting thought.

Apparently, Yev’s not done mouthing off. Not that it matters to me. “Anything you do to me is nothing compared to what they could do.”

Sawyer chuckles and taunts him with a kick to the side of his knee. “You’re wasting your breath, you sick fuck. You should save it. You’ll need it soon enough.”

“That’s right. I brought the gas mask and duct tape,” Aaron tosses.“You’d be surprised how soon someone might want to talk when you put a gas mask on their face and slowly add tape to cover the oxygen holes.”

Once we have Yev in position, I move back to his head and bend so he can see me. I’m also careful to stay out of spitting range. “Listen up, you raping piece of dog shit. My name is Tomer Stillman. You drugged, kidnapped, and assaulted the love of my life. You’re going to pay for that. Once I think you’ve had enough, I’ll start asking you some questions. If you answer them to my satisfaction, I’ll consider letting you live.” I pull the rod out of my back pocket. “Try not to piss on yourself.”

His dark eyes wax over with fear.

“Steady his feet, boys.” I point at Aaron with the tip of the two-foot-long wooden cane, gesturing toward one foot. Then repeat the motion, directing Sawyer to the other. “Hold them out, soles up, giving me a flat surface. Tight grip because this is really going to fucking hurt him, and I bet he squirms like a little bitch. Watch your faces.”

I intentionally bound his ankles into the hog-tie rather than his feet so that I could have access to them. Fortunately, I know my way around ropes.

Aaron and Sawyer sit beside Yev on the floor and hold his feet up for me like a table. Neither of them shows any trepidation. A quick glance at Henderson reveals he’s already looking squeamish. Jonesy got called away to relieve the guards watching Freya and Stella, or else he’d have been perfect. He’d probably eagerly do the caning.

With everyone in position, I roll out my shoulder, bend my knees to put a little give in them, and hold the implement loosely in my hand. The trick is to let it wobble a little in your grip so the sub—or in this case, the fuckface trafficker—gets extra thrashes with each blow.

This cane is a cruder version of what I’ve used in the past for a few masochistic subs with extreme pain kinks. Those are smoother and thicker, distributing the strikes along a wider surface to reduce the pain. This one is thinner and coarser. The handle is padded and spongy for me, though. Won’t hurt me a fucking bit.

I don’t bother to warm him up with light strokes. Fuck that. We’re going right for the money shot.

Taking a deep breath, I lift the cane toward my shoulder and drive it over the souls of his feet at a steady pace. Ten blows in succession with a few seconds between each to allow the pain signals to build. I hit both feet simultaneously due to the closepositioning the guys have given me. Exactly as I asked them to do.

Yev wails and fruitlessly attempts to pull his feet away, wriggling on the floor. Sawyer and Aaron are prepared for his recoil, and his restraints are extremely tight. Plus, the rope has minimal give. Yev’s not going to be successful at shirking away from this. It’s a little fun to watch him try, though.

While I’m not a sadist, I take pleasure in watching this fucker hurt.

“Blyat!” he curses in Russian as his wails subside. “Ya tebya ubyo, suka.”

“Oh,I’mthe bitch, Yev?” I scoff mockingly. “And how the fuck do you plan on killing me when you can’t even move your hands or legs?”

“Svo lach’!” he seethes, calling me an asshole.

“Shut him up, Shep.” Somehow, I manage to keep my tone even. “I’m getting a headache.”

With a wide grin splayed on his face, he takes Yev’s wadded-up dirty sock and shoves it in his mouth to silence his wails.

I might look disinterested and bored by this entire exchange, but on the inside, I’m reveling in it.

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