Faces of Beth, page 15
work my ass off for the money I do have, and I don’t have it to waste
for these experiments of yours—”
“I’ve got it,” Gore replied.
The waitress came back, and she gave Gore two black coins in
exchange for his cash. Then she pointed them toward the door the
bouncer was guarding. Gore stood and led the way. The bouncer,
who’d watched the entire exchange, opened the door for them and
ushered them in.
Once inside, he closed the door behind them, and Andrew found
himself squinting through the sudden darkness until his eyes
adjusted to the dim light provided by torches set in sconces every
ten feet or so that descended along with a winding staircase.
Andrew recognized wet, earthy scents, and realized they might
be under one of the area’s rivers. It reminded him of the smells one
might encounter when walking through a cavern to see rock
formations.
“You’ve been down here before?” Andrew asked, hesitant to
make his way down into the bowels of the club.
He was more worried about the ceiling caving in than anything
else. Andrew looked up and couldn’t see anything above him.
Gore nodded and started down the stairs. “Twice.”
Andrew didn’t immediately follow. He’d seen horror movies, and
this was how many of them started. He couldn’t help thinking this
was where the dark things would lurk. Father Dennis was sure to
bring this up later. He’d remember this through Gore’s eyes and
would blame Andrew as he held him up by his throat against the wall
and cursed him for the sins they would surely encounter down here.
Realizing his only options were to follow or to turn around and go
back into the club above, leaving his wife to descend alone into the
darkness below, Andrew crept down the stairs. He knew what Gore
was capable of, but it was only a matter of time before someone
bigger and badder came along and left his wife in a pool of blood –
like the man Andrew had found her standing over in that alleyway
the last time she’d gone out on one of her crusades.
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself as he hurried to catch up with
her.
He reached Gore about halfway down the dark stairwell. At about
that same time, the sounds of sexual pleasure greeted him, along
with the clinking of glasses being brought together in toast and
murmured voices, soft laughter, and the shuffling of feet moving
about below. The stone walls seemed to amplify the sounds and the
lower they went, the louder the ricochet. They were about to step
right into a magnificent party or what sounded like a social gathering
to rival one thrown by the Great Gatsby himself.
Andrew’s senses ceased making sense as the damp, earthy soil
that had once filled his nostrils now mingled with cigar smoke,
perfume, and the musky scents usually associated with sex.
“Gore,” he said, but the young man he was following kept moving
downward.
Light poured into the stairwell from the bottom and as they
stepped lower, the party Andrew expected finally came into view.
Only he’d stopped at an odd spot where the upper part of the wall’s
archway kept the upper portion of the crowd out of sight, only
allowing him to see the bodies of people from about the waist down.
From Andrew’s viewpoint, the bottom half of glamorous
eveningwear was on display right along with the pubic regions of
naked servers and flamboyant guests.
Witnessing black slacks, a small flaccid cock, a red mini skirt, a
shaved pussy, a very bushy pussy, a long gold evening gown,
camouflaged pants, black leather pants, a giant flaccid cock, a
shimmering, sequined dress, a medium-sized hard cock, and a kilt
all bustling about, nudging each other as they moved around, was an
interesting introduction to the party.
Andrew laughed and stepped lower, allowing himself a view of
the upper half of the crowd along with the rest of the party.
Gore was already stepping into the throng, like this was a group
he mingled with every day. Andrew, however, paused. He couldn’t
believe what he was seeing. His jaw dropped in awe as he took in
the sudden plethora of colorful dresses and fancy suits blended with
naked bodies, some pale and some beautifully tanned.
He stood before an archway that made him think of old Wild West
movies set in Mexico. The wall itself seemed like it was made of old
adobe clay with a torch to each side. From where he stood, he could
see the guests meandering about. People sipped wine from glasses,
champagne from flutes, and whiskey from tumblers. Beer wouldn’t
be allowed in a gathering like this.
Gore had already disappeared into the fray and Andrew
wondered how they’d been allowed in at all dressed the way they
were. Then again, they could simply get naked and match half the
crowd.
“Excuse me,” a man in a grey pin-striped suit and a cowboy hat
said as he stepped around Andrew from behind, meaning he’d just
descended the stairs.
Andrew had heard of underground BDSM dungeons before, and
he’d foolishly imagined them to look like an actual medieval
dungeon. This was close, being underground and all, but this was an
old horse stable. Andrew didn’t know a lot about the area’s history
other than there had been a lot of Civil War stuff that happened here,
so a horse stable wasn’t too farfetched.
Once he moved into the sea of bodies, he saw that each stable
was now an elaborate sex room with its own scene being played out
for a viewing audience.
Well-dressed members of what Andrew supposed were the city’s
elite walked from scene to scene, viewing the sites while sipping
their drinks and fondling one another. This was foreplay. Most would
probably retire home to vanilla sex, the kind of stuff he himself would
do with Beth. Some might even fuck like he and Ruby. But he
doubted any would put their lover on a cross like the young man in
the first stable.
One of the college guys who’d shown up after he and Gore had
entered the club was strapped to what Andrew was pretty sure was
called a St. Andrews Cross. His cock dangled for all to see while a
woman in black latex dragged a crop up his balls and across his
body. The young man seemed to be loving it.
“Would you like a drink, sir?” a naked woman with curly red hair
asked, gripping Andrew’s shoulder.
For a second, like any man, he caught himself staring at her nude
body. Her nipples were pierced, and a chain dangled between the
hoops. Another chain connected at its center and disappeared down
below. Andrew followed it before catching himself and yanking his
attention back to her face where he found her smiling at him.
She winked and repeated her question. “A drink, sir? Or,
perhaps, something else to quench your thirst? I’m quite affordable,”
she assured him, “and well worth it.”
“No,” Andrew said, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“No, I’m… um… my wife is here and… no. I’m sorry.”
“It’s perfectly natural,” the server said. “If you change your mind,
I’ll be around.”
Andrew turned away from the woman and chuckled. He couldn’t
believe himself. How easily he’d gotten lost in his thoughts.
Why the hell did I let Gore bring me here?
Speaking of Gore, there he was. Andrew spotted him up ahead
and followed him past the next stable where a very well-endowed
man had three older women on their knees, blindfolded, with their
mouths open.
As Andrew walked by, he couldn’t help glancing left and peering
in at the action. This was all so new to him. It reminded him of the
crazy sex shit going on behind the red door at the Wicked Waltz
before Gore killed the man in the alley. That place had seemed so
sleazy where this, this seemed erotically elegant in an odd kind of
way.
A choking, gagging sound brought Andrew’s attention back to the
reality of the situation, and he looked around the crowd blocking the
stable to see the man inside had shoved his cock into one woman’s
mouth. She was brunette with grey streaks in her hair and had
sagging tits. She gagged and pitched forward, nearly puking, until he
removed his cock. She spit on the ground and nearly vomited.
The crowd yelled at her.
“Puke you fucking whore!”
“Filthy cunt!”
“Fucking throw up, why don’tcha!”
“That’s all you’re worth, you fat cow!”
As they hurled disgusting remarks at the poor woman, she smiled
back at the crowd and licked her lips, seeming to love it. The man
had already moved to the next woman, whose silver hair dangled in
front of her face in strands. He shoved his cock into her mouth and
kept it there while she gagged. When he tried to pull away, she
leaned forward on it, not wanting him to stop. Until she did, in fact,
vomit on him. The crowd went wild.
“Yes!”
“Puke!”
“You gross fucking pig!”
“Fucking nasty heifer. Puke it up, grandma!”
She smiled with vomit dripping down her chin and spit out her
dentures.
Maybe this isn’t any classier than the Wicked Waltz. Maybe kinks
of all degrees live within all social classes and only the judgmental
and self-righteous believe they see the difference. Inside, we’re all
the same animal.
Andrew watched in awe, wincing, and trying not to vomit himself
until he felt a tug on his arm and looked over to see Gore pulling him
away.
“Come,” Gore said.
Andrew followed.
The crowd behind him continued shouting.
“That’s degrading,” Andrew said.
“That’s the point,” Gore replied. “They want to be degraded.”
“Why would anyone want that?”
Gore shrugged. He seemed to have no interest in that display of
public humiliation.
It was the next stall that caused Gore to stop and join the crowd
gathered there.
In this stall, on her knees, was a beautiful young woman. She
was tied up with her arms behind her back. The rope was thin but
skillfully woven into an intricate design. The artist who’d put her in
this position was an older, blonde woman with her hair pulled back
and braided into an interesting design of its own. A purple scarf
covered most of her face, up to her eyes, where she tried to hide her
crow’s feet with dark mascara and eyeliner.
She had to be in her sixties, but her body was magnificent. She
wore skin-tight leggings and a bodice-like top. Andrew wasn’t well-
versed in ladies clothing, but it was a sexy outfit.
The woman in control pulled on the rope, forcing the tied woman
to lift at the waist where we could see the rope wound around her tits
and spider-webbed at her waist.
So this is Gore’s kink.
Andrew wondered if all Beth’s personalities were into this kind of
thing. Did Ruby want to be tied up? Did Beth? Wait, did they want to
be the one tying someone up?
No, I don’t think I’d like that.
“Remember that blonde woman,” Gore whispered in my ear.
“The one in control?”
He’d already walked back toward the stairs.
Later, as they sat in the car, Andrew couldn’t help being a bit pissed
that they’d spent so much money tonight and only got a beer and a
fifteen-minute peep show that included a limp-dicked frat boy on a
cross, some vomiting ladies being humiliated, and a girl getting tied
up.
“This was a waste of money, Gore,” Andrew complained. “I would
rather be home with a good book. Or watching TV.”
“We’re not done,” Gore replied.
“We’ve been sitting out here for three hours.”
“I told you to rest.”
They sat silent a little longer before Andrew decided to interrupt
the quiet with a question he knew might cause a quarrel between
them, but it was as good an opportunity as any to bring it up.
“Gore,” Andrew said, “tell me about the nun.”
Gore, who’d been lightly tapping on the steering wheel with his
index finger, stopped.
“There was no nun,” he replied between clenched teeth.
His answer didn’t surprise Andrew. Denial was the best way to
avoid a subject.
“There was—”
“There was no nun.”
“The others say you took care of it,” Andrew said.
Gore grunted and it sounded a little like a laugh. Like he was
amused by that.
Andrew decided to change tactics. “Why do you hurt people?”
“I don’t hurt people,” Gore replied. “Never. Never innocent
people. Only evil, demons in human form. Evil people who hurt
others.”
The clock on the dashboard changed to three o’clock in the
morning. Gore opened the passenger door and said, “It is time.”
“Time for what?”
“Come,” he said.
Just like that, their conversation was over. Andrew still had no
answers other than denial that a nun existed and denial that Gore
ever hurt innocent people.
It was late, or early, and most of the cars parked at or near the
club were gone. Gore walked to an alley that led between the
nightclub and one of the tall condo buildings it was wedged between.
Andrew stepped over a few puddles and followed Gore as he
opened a door in the side of the condo building and led Andrew into
a cold hallway.
This place was fancy, a nice, newly built condominium building.
Gore led Andrew to a set of elevators, pressed the up button, and
waited.
“Gore, where are we going?” Andrew asked.
The elevator opened and they stepped in. Gore pushed the
button for the top floor. The elevator didn’t budge. After a few
seconds, a voice came over the speaker. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Rachel,” Gore said in a female voice that was sexy but
sounded nothing like Beth or Ruby. “I’ve been here before. I’m here
to see Angel.”
“The Rachel?” the voice on the other end asked. “It’s rare anyone
comes back.”
“What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment. I should have
never left.”
“Hold on.” After a brief pause, the voice came back. “Angel
remembers you. Come on up.”
The elevator moved and as it started to ascend, Gore turned to
Andrew and with his deep growl, he said, “Remember the night I
came home, and you found Beth with all those cuts and welts on her
body?”
Andrew did remember. It looked like she’d been beaten half to
death. He’d considered taking her to the hospital but knew they’d
blame him. He assumed the injuries came from one of Gore’s nights
out. That perhaps he’d bitten off more than he could chew and had
gotten his ass kicked.
“They call her Angel,” Gore told him. “The lady with the ropes. In
the dungeon. The one in control.”
“The blonde?” Andrew asked.
Gore nodded. “Out there she plays by one set of rules. But she
brings young women here every night. From the club. In here, she
hurts them. Like she hurt me. I’ve seen her do it five times. She
takes women in there and they never come out.”
“How did you get out?”
“I escaped.”
“Gore.”
He put a finger to his lips to shush Andrew. He pointed at the
digital screen showing they were already about to reach the
penthouse floor.
“The door will open on a dark hallway. They don’t like the light
here. You stay in the hallway and wait for me.”
“Wait,” Andrew said, his heart suddenly speeding up. He wasn’t
prepared for this.
Who was the guy on the speaker? A guard? She has guards?
What if they have guns?
What if they shoot us?
What the fuck?
“Gore, I don’t like this, man,” Andrew said.
“Andrew, shut up,” Gore said.
The lights in the elevator went out.
Andrew panicked. “What the fuck?”
“Calm down. I told you they don’t like the light up here. It’s
triggered that way. The light goes out on the penthouse floor.”
“I really don’t like this.”
“Shh.”
The elevator dinged as it came to a stop.
The doors slid open onto darkness.
Gore stepped through.
Andrew hesitated, and he knew the doors were about to close. At
the last second, he followed Gore into the darkness.
The hall was painted black as if the owner wanted absolutely no
