by Amy Rose
Not long now Elliot, I remind myself, not long, and you will be with the other half of your heart.
~ Chapter Twenty-Six ~
Angela
I have no idea how long I have been here with Dylan, all I know is that time is starting to feel like it’s stopping. I no longer have the ability to see if it’s day or night, except for the glow occasionally coming from the bottom of the bedroom door.
I try to sit up, and find that something is restricting me, lowering my left arm ever so slowly, and wincing at the movement, I find that I am tied to a bed. I wrap my arms around the item pressing against my ribs and can feel the thick, course fibers of a large rope. I bring my right arm up and place it on the other side of the bed. Finding the rope quickly, I test the binding, finding that there is absolutely no give to it.
I try to lift my legs and find that I cannot feel anything below my knee, I try to reach down, to see if the same rope is also holding me in place, and I feel nothing, as I try to lift my ankles, I feel the bite of metal, and then the uncomfortable ache from my pussy.
I feel panic starting to bubble up from within me as the past starts to come back to me:
“What is it with you and hot guys, Angie?” I wonder what on earth Suzy is chattering on about.
“What do you mean?”
Smiling back at me, she continues, “A tall, handsome drink of water just came into the office and booked an inspection with you for that property out on Ratchet Road for this afternoon.” Impressed that I finally had an inspection for the property, I smiled at myself, then realized I needed more information.
“And who is this Mr. Tall, handsome drink of water? Does he have a name perhaps?”
Suzy laughs at me. “Of course he does silly. Drake Edwards. He mentioned that you two know each other, as he is a friend of that fiancé of yours, so naturally he only wants to deal with you”
Smiling internally, I was happy that Elliot’s friends were asking for me by name, but also wondering why he would also be looking for a property in Nashville.
“And the appointment’s in half an hour, so you better skedaddle so you’re out there with enough time to open it up.” Looking at my watch, I see it’s almost 2:30 pm, and I would be meeting Elliot at 4:00 pm. She is right of course, Ratchet Road is a fifteen-minute drive outside of Nashville, in a quiet rural suburb with plenty of privacy afforded for the residents, and this particular property sits on five acres. There is no one for miles around; literally the kind of place where you can just turn off everything and be one with nature.
There are stables out in the back suitable for four horses, as well as a trotting yard. There is a cute little cabin toward the rear of the property, incredibly rustic, but perfectly positioned by the small stream that flows back that way through the property. The main house is where the money had been spent. Only a few years old, the new construction is executed perfectly, and will provide the new owner with absolutely nothing to do, aside from moving in their own furniture.
“Well then, I’ll head out to that, then I’ll head on over to Belle Meade right after. I’ve got that meeting with Elliot at 4:00 pm,” I grab my handbag from where it’s sitting on my desk, walking past Jenny, “I’m off to Ratchet Road, but I’ll give you a call right after to let you know I’m done for the day. Suzy has all the details of the prospective purchaser”,
“No problems Ange, good luck.” I nod at her and continue to rush out the door.
I make it to Ratchet Road with eight minutes to spare, seeing no sign of Drake on the outside I park my car and wander inside. Once the lights are all on, I return to the kitchen area and wait for him to arrive.
A bird starts to sing outside of the kitchen window and I walked over to the window to look outside. It’s a small bird with a blue chest. I whistle back at it, the bird, seemingly frightened by my complete lack of ability to whistle a tune, flies away.
I take a step back from the sink and a cloth appears in front of my face and clamps down on my nose and mouth. I struggle to remove it, flailing around in the strong arms holding me, my eyes start to shut, I try and force them back open and struggle to get away, throwing my leg out backwards but missing my target. I scratch hard at the arms holding me tight around the front, but it’s no good, I’m falling asleep, and then, it goes completely dark.
The next thing I remember, I’m bumping along just at the edge of consciousness, when one large jolt breaks me all the way through. I’m lying on a vinyl back seat, wet with my own saliva. I open and close my eyes a few times, trying to make sense of the scene around me, from the material of the seat and the jostling around, I was obviously in a car. “You’re finally awake, now?” I hear from the front seat. It takes me less than the amount of time for him to say that sentence for me to know who I was with. Dylan had found me once more.
When we first arrive at the cabin, he locks the door behind us, including a dead bolt, followed by a large combination padlock. “Sit down, Angela,’’ Dylan said as he threw the bag he had carried in on the old, worn kitchen countertop. When he turned back around and saw that I hadn’t moved he came across and his backhand connected with the left-hand side of my face, “why won’t you do as you’re fucking told? I told you to sit down.” His hand takes hold of my wrist and yanks me with him, pushing me into the single chair. He bends down over me, keeping one hand on either arm rest, caging me in. His eyes have a barely held back rage within. He lowers his face, so it is only inches from my own.
My survival instincts kick in. Don’t do anything to anger him, Angie, there may be a chance of getting away, if only we can keep him happy until he falls asleep. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I’ll be better. I’ll do what you say, I promise.”
Seeming happy with that response he nods, then a cruel smile appears on his lips, “You will do what I say will you? And before you think to say no, remember you just promised” his left hand pulls away from the arm rest and finds the silver belt buckle. He unfastens it with ease, next popping the button to his pants, he releases it, before securing the zipper and pulling it down all the way. I see that he isn’t wearing any underwear, his black curly pubic hair now peeking through the open material,
I realize what it is that he is going to make me do to him, and I feel bile trying to make its way up my throat into my mouth. I raise my eyes, looking over his shoulder, I hear fabric moving, guessing that he is lowering his pants, confirmed a moment later, by the movement of his body, first his left side and then his right. I then hear the jeans get kicked along the floor, the jingle of the belt buckle giving the movement away.
“Get on your knees, Angela.” I don’t move. “Don’t make me tell you again.” His voice takes on a menacing tone.
I make the move forward and slide off the chair; he moves backward a step, allowing me room to get settled. I look at his bare feet, not wanting to see what I know is coming.
“Look at me, Angela.” As I raise my eyes, his hard cock slaps the side of my face. “Open your mouth, wide.” he commands. I open my mouth as wide as I can. He grabs a fist full of my hair on either side of my head and positions the crown of his now erect cock in front of my mouth, his mouth turns into a grin that the devil would be proud of, and in one swift move he drives his cock deep into my mouth. I feel it hit the back of my throat, and I gag. He doesn’t stop though, taking what he needs from me, not caring if I can breathe of not. I try and drag as much oxygen as I can through my nose.
His rhythm is punishing, and I feel tears pricking my eyes. Around the third time that I gag, I feel him harden further inside me quickly followed by a hot burst of semen filling my throat. I try to swallow it so I don’t choke, and he continues with several more, hard strokes until I can feel him starting to soften on my lips. When he finally pulls out, I fall forward and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand,
“You need to work on that. Don’t worry, you will get to do that again soon.” I don’t even raise my head to look at him, I see his hand snag his jeans from the floor beside me
and then he pads away from me.
My cheek is throbbing from the backhand not long ago. I reach up and tentatively touch it, it aches, badly. I feel tears wanting to fall from my eyes, so I use an old technique and dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands in an effort to stop them in their tracks. I was not going to allow him to see that he is causing me pain or sadness. Instead I suck in a breath and decide that the only way I am going to get out of here is if I cooperate.
“Of course, Dylan, practice makes perfect, after all” I push off the floor and I stand, clasping my hands in front of myself.
He turns to face me. “That’s right, it does. Now, while we are waiting, get naked.” When I don’t do as he says immediately, he raises an eyebrow and takes a step towards me, “Here’s how it’s going to go, Angela, you take them off yourself, or I take them off for you, but either way, you aren’t going to need your clothes at all while we are here. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Dylan, I understand.” I start with my grey cardigan, shrugging it off my shoulders, pulling down each sleeve until my arms are free.
Dylan leans back against the kitchen counter watching me, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Next, I reach behind me and pull down the zipper on my dress as far as I can reach, before letting go to pull it from the underside now. I push each sleeve off my shoulder and let it slide down until my arms are free, pushing it down in the middle over my tummy, hips, and finally my ass. Once it has, it falls to the ground, in a pool around my feet.
I look down at my body and see that all remains are my undergarments, a beautiful white lace set that I had purchased recently. “Don’t stop there, Angela, I want it ALL off.” I nod at his command. I lift my left hand over my stomach and resting it on my breast for a moment, catching sight of Elliot’s engagement ring on my finger, I want to cry. I continue lifting my hand until it is on the thin strap of my bra, I push it over my shoulder and then follow with the right-hand strap too. Once both of my arms are unhooked, I grab the material and pull it around until the hook and eyes are under my now uncovered breasts. I unhook them slowly and lift it, dropping it onto the floor beside me.
I look up at Dylan, “can I keep these on for a little longer please?” I ask, while touching the sides of my lace boy legs. He comes over to me, and gently touches my cheek. He grips my chin in between his fingers and lifts it to look into his eyes, my face in an uncomfortable position due to our height difference, he lowers his lips on my own and kisses me, gentle at first, he swipes his tongue across my bottom lip. I don’t move, his grip on me tightens. I open up ever so slightly for him, I feel his tongue slip in between my lips, and I feel like hurling. I lift my hands to his chest and try to push, which is pointless when he is just a wall of muscle in front of me. His other hand slides down my side until I feel him touching me through the lace of my underwear, his fingers finding the edges of fabric. He pulls, I feel the fabric give way, and the air touching my pussy lips.
Next his fingers slip in between them, and I feel the roughness of his finger pads on my clit, followed by an incredibly strong pinch and pull. My mouth opens fully, he pulls his lips away from my own, and his hand snakes around from my chin to the back of my head, grabbing a fist full of hair. His leg slides forward and forces my legs apart, my feet stumble a little and it’s the opening that he needs. I feel the invasion, like a knife through butter and tears prick at my eyes. He continues to move his fingers in and out of me, quickly and roughly. The next time he pulls out the pressure increases, knowing that he has inserted another finger this time, a whimper escapes my throat. He starts to push me back further until I am pressed against a wall, his fingers leave me for a moment and his legs come between both of my own.
“Lift your legs for me, wrap them around my waist” he commands. Knowing what is coming, I refuse. I try to somehow move his legs to get my own together so I could close off access. When I don’t comply, he brings my head closer to him before repositioning his hand to the front of my face before pushing it back with so much force, that when I connect with the brick wall behind me, I see stars. Not being able to concentrate on anything but the stars in front of me, I feel his other hand grab my left leg before his other hand grabs my right, and then pain. His cock slams into me with so much force I feel as though I am now two people, as though he has torn me, from my pussy all the way to my eyes. And he doesn’t stop; his face moves down towards my shoulder where he bites me, hard. I scream out, and no sooner than it had started it is finished, I feel his warmth inside me. With two more strokes he pulls out, drops me and lets me fall in a heap to the floor.
I feel his seed, sliding out of me and pooling on the tops of my legs, and I don’t make a move to wipe it away, knowing that he is watching my reaction. I say the only thing that comes to mind, knowing what he wants to hear, “thank you, Dylan.”
He bends down so he is peering right into my eyes, “that’s a good girl, thanking me for what I give you. Don’t worry, Angela, there is plenty more where that came from”
He palms my pussy once more, covering his hand in our juices and lifts it to his lips, licking his hand clean. I try not to shudder. “Go lie on the bed, Angela, and keep your legs spread. I’m nowhere done with you yet.” I shakily get to my knees and then to my feet and walk in the direction that Dylan is pointing. I walk through the open doorway and do as he requests. I lie on the bed, my breasts in the air, my traitorous nipples hard like diamonds, and my legs spread wide.
The low light streaming through the bedroom window indicates that it is getting late, which means Jenny has to be wondering why I never called her. Has she phoned my cell instead? Been out to Ratchet Road? Is anyone looking for me? Or has Dylan made it look as though I have gone along willingly? A lump forms in my throat. I was supposed to be meeting with my Elliot at our newly completed home. We were getting ready to start our life together between here and New York. He will know something is wrong when I’m not there when he arrives.
But what will he do then? Will he simply believe that I decided that it wasn’t worth it? That he wasn’t worth it? And when he speaks to Jenny and she mentions my appointment with Drake the hour before, will he think that his best friend has taken off with his girl? That we had it planned from the beginning? Surely, he would know that Drake would never do that to him or Kat. And then it hits me: he needs to speak to Drake, who will confirm that he hasn’t been to Nashville. Then he will ask Jenny and Suzy to describe the man who arranged the appointment with me. Then surely it will click. After all Dylan and Drake have similar features. But then, how does he find me?
Dylan wouldn’t have been stupid enough to bring my cell phone with us, knowing without a doubt that Elliot would be able to track us that way, but would he have done the same for his own phone? I hope and pray that he did bring his cell with him, so when Elliot realizes who I am with, and the location becomes clear he realizes where I am. I have to believe that someone is coming to save me from this, as I honestly don’t see a way out of here.
I chance a glance around the room. There are no landline phones on either of the side tables. I lean up slightly, expanding my range of sight to outside of the room, towards the main open area where I was assaulted mere minutes ago. There is an old-fashioned landline, hanging on the wall between the kitchen and living area. If I could get to that somehow, I could dial Elliot’s phone, and hope that he answers.
I needed to think smart, play along with Dylan’s game and try and get him to believe that I’m not a threat. That I’m just going to take whatever he plans on dishing out to me, and just accept it. If he can let his guard down enough to fall asleep, then I might have an incredibly small window to call for help.
A determination builds inside me. I know I’m about to go through Hell again. But this time I’m going to walk through with a purpose, knowing that on the other side there is a possibility of leaving Hell, and never, ever returning again.
I close my eyes, imagining a place where Dylan can’t get to me ever aga
in, wanting to be anywhere else than here when the next assault comes. Once my thoughts are in a better frame of mind, I take one last breath, preparing myself for what I’m about to ask for. I can do this.
I hear his footsteps coming closer, and the sound of him putting something heavy down on the chest of drawers beside the door. I open my eyes and see him, his hands resting on his old worn baseball bat.
“Now, I want to set some ground rules. You will do whatever I ask you to do, or I’m going to hit you, Angela, but not with my fists. No, I brought along our old friend.” He strokes his baseball bat, the one he has had since his minor league days,
“Of Course, Dylan. Whatever you ask, I’ll do”
Wanting him as far away from the bat as possible, I raise my knees and let my legs spread even wider. I lower my hand to my folds, and slowly place my finger inside myself. His hand drops from the baseball bat to his side and he takes a step closer to the bed, where I lay, then another, then another until he is standing right beside me. He lifts his shirt over his head, and I see a new tattoo over his heart, “AW + DR till death do us part.”
His hand snakes out and stops my hand from touching myself. “Let me do that. I’ll do a much better job”, I nod at him and pull my hand away from his laying it next to my body.
“Of course, Dylan. Do what you want to me. My body is yours”, the cruel smile spreading across his once handsome features tells me that he thinks he has won, that he has broken me. But he doesn’t know that he never will.
“Yes, it, is,” he says before climbing onto the bed. He shuffles down so his face is mere inches away from where I had just been touching myself, he lifts both of my thighs and takes a very firm grip of either one, before he begins to taste me. I close my eyes, not wanting to see what he is doing, he bites my clit, hard. I scream, my eyes spring wide open. “You will watch what I am doing to you, or I will bite you again, harder.”
