Tombstone by Candace Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

of the cream across her eyebrows.
    Claudine realized that in less than five minutes the man had destroyed the alluring looks that were her identity.   Uneasy shock began to settle in, and for the first time, she began to consider her abduction might not be the ‘temporary’ lesson she thought Donald had planned for her.   She chewed at her trembling bottom lip to keep from begging.   The thought of the confining darkness of the coffin never left her panicked mind.
    After wiping off the cream along with the remaining stubble, Tombstone studied the pinpricking red bumps on her scalp and brows.   The lotion was specifically made by one of his clients and had been gifted to Tombstone in appreciation for his creation.   The client was a doctor, and Tombstone had designed a mannequin of his blackmailing mistress after she admitted the affair to the physician’s wife.   In despair, the fragile woman had left a note before committing suicide.   The guilt ridden doctor insisted Tombstone accept the permanent depilatory.   It was a welcome addition to his collection of unusual items, and it saved on maintenance when the mannequins were finished.   It was time consuming to have to exfoliate them every few weeks.
    Tombstone studied the picture of the sculpture lying on the table beside him.   He turned and gripped the woman’s jaw.   “Open.”   A sob escaped when Claudine parted her lips and she dug her nails into her palms.   Her arms throbbed from where they were crushed between her back and the stiff wood of the chair, and once more she tried to plead with her eyes.   She had no idea that with her eyebrows removed her face now showed a perpetual look of surprise.
    “Wider,” he demanded.   Another quiet sob escaped, and she opened her mouth a little more.   The fingers gripping her jaw tightened and Claudine felt the strength in his hand.   His thumb stroked down her cheek in a strange, tender caress.   “Open fucking wider, slut,” he ordered in his calm, low voice.   She stared into his eyes and Tombstone felt the muscles in her neck straining.   He studied her gaping lips, and then he reached into the drawer and pulled out a rubber ring, placing it against her cheek to check the size.   It had to be big to ensure she would not be able to move her mouth or jaws once it was in place.
    Claudine panicked when the man began squeezing the thick rubber ring behind her teeth.   She tried to close her lips, intending to clench her teeth, when his words froze her.   “Do you need some quiet, dark alone time to consider things?”
    Claudine’s mind snapped to the paralyzing darkness of the coffin.   She quivered and forced her jaws open again.   Please.   This has to be some kind of nightmare.   I’m sorry.   Please.   Let me talk to Mr. Strickland.   This is a mistake.   Even as she prayed the thoughts, the panicking revelation that it was Donald that had arranged all this, dissolved any hope.   Her jaws were already aching after only a minute of stretching.
    Tombstone grabbed a damp cloth and scoured the thinned remaining makeup off her face.   Using a gooey clear gel, he coated her head from her collarbone all the way up to her remaining hairline, including her eyelids.   Next, two small tubes filled her nostrils, sticking out about an inch.   He molded wax into her ear canals and anchored tubes into the plugs.   There was no way that Claudine could control her shuddering, and she wailed when he lifted the small bucket of plaster.
    Tombstone loved watching their fear, and as he coated her face he soaked in her terror, glancing at her tongue roaming wildly around her mouth.   The white paste covered everything but the shock of hair and her wide amber eyes, coating to the inside edge of her lips.   He used a thin stick to dig a trench in the thickening plaster from shoulder to shoulder.   Scooping more plaster, Claudine screamed when he slathered it over one lid.   He sat back staring at