“Tape her eyes shut,” I tell Luke as we speed towards Jordan Lake. I hear tape ripping and more muffled whining. I reach for my phone and flick my eyes between the road and dialing my dad’s friend. He answers after the third ring:
“Hey Charlie. Whassup? You guys get lost?”
“Hey Neil, uh, no...no we, uh, well, more like I, decided to do something.”
“What you mean ‘do somethin’?”
“I mean I...I have a favor to ask.”
“Exactly what kind of favor you talkin' about?” I can hear him grow suspicious.
“Your basement...could we possibly use it?”
There’s a long pause and for a second, I think he’s about to hang up. “So, I’m guessing you found a…’guest’ along the way. Is that right?”
“Yeah, yeah, that is right.”
“We can discuss it when you get here. You bring any kind of attention round my place and I will personally kick the shit outta ya.”
“Understandable.”
He hangs up.
The GPS indicates about six minutes left to go. I stick my phone back under my leg and check the side mirrors for any cops. The rear view mirror is filled with the sight of my victim. My adrenaline spikes and I feel my muscles tense with excitement. The last time we were together I had her bent over a metal table and eating out of a dog bowl. Neil's bound to have some things I could use in his basement. Each minute slogs by in a blur of trees, houses, and stop lights. Luke is already taking pictures with his Instax, placing the photos on the rear dash as they spit out one after the other. I consider calling Henry to make sure he found the car and her place, but given that he hasn't called me, I figure he's doing just fine.
The GPS informs me that I've arrived, but all I see are dense trees and shrubs. With the sun setting, it's hard to tell exactly which dirt road to take, but I'm able to spot the name "Rush" on one of the mailboxes. The headlights pave the way for us as we push deeper into the wooded area. Neil's house is small, but placed on a slab foundation. Or at least what looked like a slab foundation. My dad told me how Neil always built his own locations. Said he probably built a dozen or so small cabins around the country, but that this was his main home. It looked quaint, like one of those minimalist cabins they try to pedal on YouTube. I pulled up next to his Chevy Silverado; the bed full of tree branches and dead brush. A small wood chipper sat some distance off to the side with the blower pointed towards a couple of full paper bags.
"Wait here, I'll get him," I say to Luke as I shut off the car and hop out, not even bothering to shut the door. I hear her frantic moaning as well as Luke ordering her to shut up. The pathway leading up to the entrance is studded with rocks and gravel; the big kind. There's a few wooden steps leading up to a wooden porch and a fire pit with a few deck chairs. When I get to the door, I reach for the doorbell, but he's already there, leaning against the frame, smoking a cigarette, and staring out the screen door at the passenger window of my car. I look back and see Luke give an awkward wave as the car jiggled from her moving about.
"Can't wait huh?" I hear Neil say.
"What?" I say, not really sure what he means. He motions down towards my crotch and I see I have a very visible hard on poking against my jeans. I quickly move my hands to cover it and look down, somewhat embarrassed that this is how I'm meeting him for the first time: with an unintended guest and a boner. He just chuckles and continues to smoke.
"Why don't you bring'r inside," he says as he motions with his chin. I wave my hand towards Luke for him to bring her in, and I see him open the door and try to drag her out. He hooks his hands under her arms, but she proves to be a pain for just him alone. I jog over, kick both doors shut, and grab her ankles as we carry her towards the house. Her high pitched moans and squirming do nothing to help my throbbing erection. I consider just dropping her on the ground and doing it here, but...It's not my property.
Luke and I manage to carry her uncooperative ass through the front door into the living room. Neil's house is spacious, with little to no furniture and the immediate entry is divided by half walls and archways. It's an interesting design. As we lay her down, she begins kicking and rolling in all directions. Neil walks over, cigarette now gone as he snubs it in an ashtray resting atop one of the dividers, and takes a knee right on her hair. She stops kicking but rolls to the side and swings her still taped wrists at his thigh. He swats them away and plants a hand on her chest, spreading his fingers to apply pressure. In a deep, bass ridden voice, he speaks, "Calm down. Be quiet." Her whimpers change to a sputtering inhale through the nose. Her fingers are interlaced and shaking. Even from this distance I can hear her swallowing in nervous desperation.
My phone vibrates.
..."Henry's done. He found the house and left unseen. Can you go pick him up?" I ask Luke.
"Why me! I want a crack at this bitch!"
"My tape. My turn." I say with a thumb pointing at my chest.
He grumbled, "Fine," and charged out the door.
"Does she have a phone or anything that can ID her?" Neil says, looking at me. I dash outside and flag down Luke. He stops the car and looks back at me confused. I yank open the back door and search the floor. Her phone was under the passenger seat and her wallet thing was still in the front seat. "Hey," I say to Luke as he shifts into drive. "I owe you. Both of you."
"Yeah. You fucking do." He speeds off down the dirt driveway.
Upon returning I see Neil straddling her chest and tracing the tip of a K-Bar along her jaw. Her shoes were off and her dress had a few new rips in it. He pokes softly at the underside of her chin with the tip of the blade and smirks when she tries to turn away. "Nice catch you got here. If I were twenty years younger I'd have her strung up like a deer dressing." I don't say anything. I just walk closer until I'm next to him, contents in hand, and a curiosity of the stories he had to share. "Hey, get me another cigarette will ya? On the kitchen table." I drop the stuff down next to her head and grab his pack of Camels off the granite countertop. "Thanks," he said as he thumbed one into his mouth. "Got a light?" I fished one out of my pocket and clicked the flame on. "Butane huh?" He took an enormous drag and blew the smoke directly into her face. She coughed at the fumes.
"It's mainly for cigars," I said.
"You ever use it on someone?"
"No. Never."
"Well there's always a first." He holsters his K-Bar in the back of his belt. He grabs her phone on the ground and presses the home button. He tries to swipe it open, but it's password protected. Visibly irritated, he rips the tape off of her eyes, one at a time. She blinks at the intake of light and takes turns looking at me, then at Neil. Seeing the fear in her eyes sends a pulsating sensation to my cock, getting it to stand back at attention. He lifts his leg and pulls her hands in front of her face. Turning the screen towards her face, he swipes again, "Pass code. Now." She grabbed the phone and threw it onto the tile hallway. Before I could blink, he slapped her across the face harder than I've seen any of us slap a victim. Her head snapped and tears fell from her eyes. I walked over to the phone and picked it up. Neil just held out his hand without looking away. I gave it back and he swiped once again. "Pass code. Or I will feed your hand through the wood chipper while it's still attached." This time, she unlocks it.
..."No messages askin' where she is...No new emails...I'll be going through this to make sure no one comes lookin'. See if I can't send an email to her work saying she's gonna be sick for a bit." Neil scrolled up and down on the screen, reading over texts, apps, and anything else he could find. "Why don't you take her to the basement. It's right over there." He points towards a corner of the room with a recliner placed at the corner of a large rug. I slide it away and fold over the rug to reveal a hatch with cement steps leading downstairs. I flip the switch and go back to weave my fingers through her hair.
"Come on!" I say, yanking her to her feet. I hook the crux of my elbow around her throat and force her to walk. As we near, she resists and digs her heels in. "Look!" I say, tightening my hold. "You can walk down the stairs on your own, or I can kick you down them and we'll just hope you don't land on your neck." She stops struggling and carefully puts one shaky foot in front of the other as we descend into the softly lit room. At the last step, I kick the back of her knee out anyway and watch her land on her taped hands and the side of her thigh. In the middle of the room stood a wrought iron bed frame with the headboard pushed all the way to the wall. A table with various implements and torture devices was situated on the far side. On the closer side was an empty space, but a large hook dangled from the ceiling which fed to a remote on the wall with arrows pointing up and down. A homemade cage sat in the far corner, its bars were spaced wide enough to stick your cock through with a heavy duty lock resting in the latch. The only thing that looked out of place was an old gramophone next to the stairs. At the foot of the display table were boxes stacked on boxes, each filled with what looked like jazz and blues records. Closer to the hook was an armchair and a bookcase behind it.
My victim, now red faced and bruised on the leg, began crawling away towards...well, just away. I close the hatch overhead and smile to myself.
Here we go.
I pull out my recorder and press the red circle. I put it on top of the gramophone table and toss my leather jacket onto the chair. I pounce forward and stand over her. I clutch a fistful of hair again and wrench her head up. Her body followed, and I slammed it into the cinder block wall. She pushed against the wall with what strength she had. Feeling pissed off, I hammer a fist into the side of her ribs. She staggers and falls to the floor. I scan the table and snatch a pair of handcuffs. She screams for help, having peeled off the tape and the sound echoes off all corners of the room. I grab a roll of duct tape on the bed, stride over, and yank her by the hair. She yelps.
"GET. OFF!" she said, struggling to pry my hand off her scalp while still on the floor.
I hook my elbow beneath her chin and lock my arm in place. I speak quietly with my lips next to her ear, "Now why the fuck would I do that...You owe me a new tape."
"I don't owe you shit!" she said, moving however she could to break free.
"Fine...then think of it like this...I made you mine once before. I. will. not. hesitate. to do it. again...harder...longer...and permanently."
I felt her resolve weaken with that last word. Fear crept into her whimpering tone and she tired after expending energy to escape. I reach into my back pocket and produce my handkerchief. "Open." I command. She clamps shut and shakes her head. "...I said...open." I squeeze my bicep over her throat until her entire face turns bright red, then release. She takes the opportunity to breath, but I take my opportunity to shove my balled up handkerchief into her mouth. She groaned in displeasure, but before she can spit it out, I rip a new strip of duct tape and smooth it over her mouth. I throw her head to the ground and press my knee into her temple. Grabbing my Winchester pocket knife, I cut the tape holding her wrists together. She tries to do something with her hands free, but she's too slow to be effective. The handcuffs are on and lock her wrists behind her. I pick her up by the chain; arms and shoulders strain as a look of pain shoots across her face.
I press her against the wall again, my hard on pressing into her ass. With one hand, I hold her by the back of the neck. With the other hand, I unfasten my belt buckle, take out my raging hard on and spit into my hand, hastily lubing up the tip. I reach up under her dress and rip her panties down around her knees, pulling her ass towards me as her head slides down the wall. I run my dick up and down her cunt, feeling her warmth, and to some degree, wetness. I push my cock in. Patient. Steady. All the way until all of me is inside her. She moaned, but it didn't sound like she was in pain.
I decide to have some fun with this.
I grab the front of her neck too and whisper, "You know, you were sopping wet the last time I fucked you. You must like this or something 'cause if I remember correctly, you came last time too." Her cheeks lit up bright red and her whimpers sound more like pleasure than pain. I begin to pump with rhythm. Her pussy, warm and wet, closes around my cock. I try to enjoy the moment but my aggression takes over. I grab her shoulders and start to pound harder and harder until the slapping sound of me fucking her fills the room. Holy shit. Somehow, this feels better than last time, though I'm not sure if I even fully remember last time. I guess that's what new memories are for.
Her moans change to that familiar sound of pain. That sound of something being ripped away without permission. That sound that causes my dick to grow harder and harder with each whimper, each cry, each plead for mercy; something I don't give. I change up the tempo, being sure to fill her up all the way with my cock before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in to the hilt. Her grunts hit my eardrums like music and I slam harder and harder just to see how loud I can make her cry out. I can hear the begging to stop, please stop, beneath the tape. Instead of stopping, I twist her body downwards until she's lying face down on the concrete. I push my cock inside her pussy as far as it will go and begin pumping in and out. I plant both my hands on her shoulder blades and slam my hips into her ass until she's crying again. Her supple flesh bounced off of me, her cunt pulled tight on my dick with each stroke, and it sent me into a euphoric spin.
Then I feel it. A tightening around my dick as she cums all over it, unable to stop herself from being stimulated. I slow down and put my weight on top of her, speaking low into her ear. "You're mine now," I said, nipping at her earlobe. "You know that right?" I suck on the side of her neck and drag my hand up her thigh and around the front of her shoulders. The sucking turns into biting and the biting turns into digging my teeth into neck muscle. I gnaw at the flesh and listen to her whines turn high pitched and nasally, like a dog whimper. "Just admit that you like this, and maybe I'll even let you cum on purpose." I wrap my arms beneath hers, cupping the tops of her shoulders as I pull her onto my dick. I thrust harder and harder, as hard as I can, until I'm met with that feeling deep in my gut. I growl, "Oh fuck...fffuck," in anticipation and feel my balls tighten as I loose one load after another deep inside her. When I finish, she lays there, eyes glazed, and unmoving.
"Yeah," I said. "You're all mine again."
