Cool Water by Pete Haynes

Author:Pete Haynes [Haynes, Pete]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime Fiction
Publisher: Caffeine Nights Publishing
Published: 2014-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-two

The light from two candles on the wall offered the only light that there was in the room. A large bulky shadow was thrown against one wall. It was the crude shadowy form of Roddy Harding strapped to a large leather bench. He was lying on his back wearing only a thong. The bench had lots of sharp studs on its surface and he squirmed against them to increase his pleasure. His voice was parched as he spoke in a low tone. ‘You better hurt me good – I don’t want to think that you and your type where you come from are becoming girlie men. I bet you haven’t the know-how or guts to crunch my bollocks – and put the fucking music on now, for fucking Christ’s sake – get it right – yeah, let’s get it right.’

Donny turned from a music system and faced the bench, looking down at him. He was stripped to the waist, wearing a long blond wig with glitter sprayed across his face and chest. He had covered himself in talcum powder and was wearing studded leather mittens. His fingernails were painted in bright varnish, make up had been crudely applied around his eyes and lipstick gave his mouth a torn appearance. Donny was holding a leather strap in his right hand. He glared down at Roddy Harding and a demented grin formed on his face as he watched him fumbling with a small funnel, struggling to push it under his thong. Roddy Harding shouted out, ‘Fuck my dick you fucking scum – come on – get up here and fuck my dick.’

Donny grabbed Roddy Harding’s bollocks and twisted them, and as he winced Donny hit him with the heel of the strap on his stomach and then brought the strap down on his face. Roddy Harding screamed at him. ‘Not my face – not my face – you useless scum fucker.’

He spat at Donny. ‘Do better than that, you girlie scum fucker – show me how you dish out the goodies.’

The music suddenly blasted out. It was ‘Wig Wam Bam’ by The Sweet. Donny hit him with the strap, leaving the bench only to change the music. Donny gyrated in front of the bench as ‘Mystery Girls’ by The New York Dolls was playing.

‘You hit like a girl,’ Roddy Harding whined in a nasally, strangled tone, ‘because you are a girl.’ Donny climbed onto the bench and straddled him.

Their session broke for periods of rest and more powder. At one point as Roddy Harding tried to break free from the straps Donny looked down at him struggling, ‘Vietnamese Baby,’ by The New York Dolls was playing and Donny’s senses blurred as he became as one with the music, feelings and darkness in the room.

A few hours later Donny examined himself in a full-length mirror. Roddy Harding was lying on the bench moaning, gurgling and letting out sporadic bursts of talking like a young child, burbling and babbling baby talk and then switched

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