Frank leapt to his feet and headed for the door but Biff and Tony were there before him, barring the way. "Ease up," Phil said from behind him.
"That bastard is going to hurt him again," Frank argued.
"We know," Laura said, tears streaming down her face. "But Fenton said he would be here this evening. We have to wait for him."
"What if he's too late?" Frank demanded, his brown eyes haunted.
"He won't kill Joe," Phil reminded him. "He went to too much trouble to get him back."
"But..."
"I know," Laura told him, her voice thick but gentle. "If it gets too bad, we will go after him anyway," she promised. Frank nodded miserably. He knew they were right. But having to listen to Joe being hurt was almost more than he could bare.
Charles ushered Joe upstairs and watched as Joe stripped down to his briefs. Charles raked his fingers over Joe's already tender back causing him to groan as he jerked away from Charles' touch. "On your back," Charles ordered, picking up a length of rope from beneath the corner of the bed.
Joe did as he was told and was soon bound, spread eagle, to the bed. Charles smiled down at the hapless youth. "One of these days," Charles whispered as he leaned close to Joe's ear. "You will be at my mercy. I bought a book especially for you. It's called Torture Through the Ages. I always wondered what could drive a person to confess to being a witch when they knew what would happen to them and their families if they did. One day, I will find out."
Charles laughed as he noticed Joe's abdomen begin to tremble at the threat. He ruffled Joe's hair then left the room. Minutes later, Austin entered. He pulled off his belt and stood looking down at Joe. He fingered the buckle, looking at it with a kind of pride he had never shown his son.
Joe swallowed. He was finding the waiting almost as unbearable as he knew the punishment would be. "Do you know how degrading I find it to have such an imbecile for a son?" Austin inquired, looking down at Joe malevolently.
Joe never answered. He remained quiet even though he knew this would further anger his father. Austin's gaze narrowed on Joe. "You pathetic excuse for a human being," he snarled. "If you had been half of what you were supposed to be your life could have been perfect. Your mother and I would have doted on you," he lied. "But you had to be a stupid, clumsy, clod!" He accentuated each word with a swish of the belt. The buckle marring his skin as it struck, first his stomach, then his left leg and then his right arm.
Joe cried out as he felt the buckle hit the first time, but knowing his family and friends were listening, he bit his bottom lip as Austin continued his punishment. By the time he had finished almost ten minutes later, Joe's bottom lip was bleeding almost as much as the fresh wounds on his thighs.
Austin dropped the belt and left the room. Joe lay still, letting the tears roll down his face. His father had left him tied up which meant he was either to stay this way until the next morning, or he wasn't finished.
The scent of her perfume assaulted Joe's nostrils before he saw Ami enter the room. She gave him her patented bored look as she sat down on the bed beside him. "Ah, honey. You do like to make your father angry, don't you?" she queried. She ran a fingernail down Joe's side, scraping the raw flesh and bringing blood. "You know it gives him pleasure to hear you scream and beg for mercy." She moved her finger to Joe's lips and traced them. "And it is important that we keep your father happy. He hasn't had a very good day," she added, smiling.
"I bought you a present while I was out earlier," she informed him. At these words, Charles entered the room with a bag. "Sit it here," she ordered Charles, indicating the floor by her feet. Charles did as told and then departed.
Ami reached into the bag and pulled out a taper candle. "Now, let's see if we can make your father happy, shall we?" she asked, pulling a lighter from her pants pocket and lighting the candle.
She held the candle over the open wound on Joe's left thigh and let the hot wax drip onto it. Joe inhaled, clinching his eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over him. "No?" she asked. "I'm sorry," she said. blowing the candle out. "I guess you don't have enough open wounds for this to really hurt yet. I know," she added, as a thought seemed to come to her. "Stay there, I'll be right back." She got up and left the room.
"I don't care if we aren't supposed to go over there. I am not going to let that witch hurt him anymore!" Frank declared, heading out of the room with his friends right behind him.
Ami was back in less than a minute with a razor in her hand. "I bet your father would love a wallet made from your skin," she said, placing the razor on the bottom of Joe's foot.
"That bastard is going to hurt him again," Frank argued.
"We know," Laura said, tears streaming down her face. "But Fenton said he would be here this evening. We have to wait for him."
"What if he's too late?" Frank demanded, his brown eyes haunted.
"He won't kill Joe," Phil reminded him. "He went to too much trouble to get him back."
"But..."
"I know," Laura told him, her voice thick but gentle. "If it gets too bad, we will go after him anyway," she promised. Frank nodded miserably. He knew they were right. But having to listen to Joe being hurt was almost more than he could bare.
Charles ushered Joe upstairs and watched as Joe stripped down to his briefs. Charles raked his fingers over Joe's already tender back causing him to groan as he jerked away from Charles' touch. "On your back," Charles ordered, picking up a length of rope from beneath the corner of the bed.
Joe did as he was told and was soon bound, spread eagle, to the bed. Charles smiled down at the hapless youth. "One of these days," Charles whispered as he leaned close to Joe's ear. "You will be at my mercy. I bought a book especially for you. It's called Torture Through the Ages. I always wondered what could drive a person to confess to being a witch when they knew what would happen to them and their families if they did. One day, I will find out."
Charles laughed as he noticed Joe's abdomen begin to tremble at the threat. He ruffled Joe's hair then left the room. Minutes later, Austin entered. He pulled off his belt and stood looking down at Joe. He fingered the buckle, looking at it with a kind of pride he had never shown his son.
Joe swallowed. He was finding the waiting almost as unbearable as he knew the punishment would be. "Do you know how degrading I find it to have such an imbecile for a son?" Austin inquired, looking down at Joe malevolently.
Joe never answered. He remained quiet even though he knew this would further anger his father. Austin's gaze narrowed on Joe. "You pathetic excuse for a human being," he snarled. "If you had been half of what you were supposed to be your life could have been perfect. Your mother and I would have doted on you," he lied. "But you had to be a stupid, clumsy, clod!" He accentuated each word with a swish of the belt. The buckle marring his skin as it struck, first his stomach, then his left leg and then his right arm.
Joe cried out as he felt the buckle hit the first time, but knowing his family and friends were listening, he bit his bottom lip as Austin continued his punishment. By the time he had finished almost ten minutes later, Joe's bottom lip was bleeding almost as much as the fresh wounds on his thighs.
Austin dropped the belt and left the room. Joe lay still, letting the tears roll down his face. His father had left him tied up which meant he was either to stay this way until the next morning, or he wasn't finished.
The scent of her perfume assaulted Joe's nostrils before he saw Ami enter the room. She gave him her patented bored look as she sat down on the bed beside him. "Ah, honey. You do like to make your father angry, don't you?" she queried. She ran a fingernail down Joe's side, scraping the raw flesh and bringing blood. "You know it gives him pleasure to hear you scream and beg for mercy." She moved her finger to Joe's lips and traced them. "And it is important that we keep your father happy. He hasn't had a very good day," she added, smiling.
"I bought you a present while I was out earlier," she informed him. At these words, Charles entered the room with a bag. "Sit it here," she ordered Charles, indicating the floor by her feet. Charles did as told and then departed.
Ami reached into the bag and pulled out a taper candle. "Now, let's see if we can make your father happy, shall we?" she asked, pulling a lighter from her pants pocket and lighting the candle.
She held the candle over the open wound on Joe's left thigh and let the hot wax drip onto it. Joe inhaled, clinching his eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over him. "No?" she asked. "I'm sorry," she said. blowing the candle out. "I guess you don't have enough open wounds for this to really hurt yet. I know," she added, as a thought seemed to come to her. "Stay there, I'll be right back." She got up and left the room.
"I don't care if we aren't supposed to go over there. I am not going to let that witch hurt him anymore!" Frank declared, heading out of the room with his friends right behind him.
Ami was back in less than a minute with a razor in her hand. "I bet your father would love a wallet made from your skin," she said, placing the razor on the bottom of Joe's foot.