Deceptions

by Dana Mansfield

  “Just one,” I replied, my stomach doing flip flops at the memory of my first time and every time after that for three years.

  “You on birth control?”

  I froze with this question for a brief moment and then lied.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good, ‘cuz I don’t do rubbers.” Shane kissed me hard on the lips. His free hand found my breast and squeezed. “When was the last time you fucked him?”

  “Not for a while. It wasn’t serious.”

  “Good. You’re my girl now.”

  Shane guided me to one of the beds. I was shaking and nervous and uncomfortable being naked while Shane was still mostly clothed. Without his shirt, I saw how muscular he was. His broad chest was tan and he had a tribal tattoo around his left bicep and a Chinese symbol over his heart. I wanted to ask him what it meant but I couldn’t find my voice.

  He pulled off his khakis and then his boxers. I couldn’t help but look and then couldn’t help but compare him to the man who took my virginity. Several years had passed and this time, I was looking through the eyes of a young woman. My terrible memories of that man along with the pain rushed back and I was more frightened. This was going to hurt and I stepped away from Shane. He grabbed my upper arm. His grip was tight and I looked into his blue eyes.

  “I think it’s too soon,” I said.

  “It’ll be okay,” he replied and relaxed his grip. “You’re my girl, Penny. I’m not going to hurt you.” He hugged me again. Even though I could feel him, I felt the warmth of the hug more and I found myself relaxing. “Have just one shot to relax you. It’ll make it easier. I promise.”

  “Okay,” I said to buy some time. He poured the shot glass and handed it to me.

  “Down it fast,” he advised. “It’ll go down easier, especially if you’re not used to it.”

  I trusted Shane and did as he said. The burn was awful and I coughed for a good minute.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized once I stopped. He had an irritated look on his face.

  He’s just trying to help you, the Terrible Voice said. You’re his girl, remember. He’s not going to hurt you. If he does, it’s because you deserve it. Now, make him feel better.

  I leaned up and kissed his neck. He was tall and I had to stand on my tiptoes to move my mouth to his. My kiss was tentative and I ran my hands through his sandy blonde hair. Shane took over. His hands found my ass and he squeezed hard but I forced myself not to react. I already made him angry once and I didn’t want him to feel bad again. He turned around and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “On your knees,” he ordered. I balked, remembering a conversation I overheard Amanda having with her girlfriends. I hate when I have to get on my knees. Makes me feel like a whore, Amanda had said.

  Yeah, but the more time you spend on your knees, the less time you spend on your back, her friend replied and then they broke out laughing. I already knew this to be true. I dropped to my knees as Shane spread his legs. He was already pretty stiff. Maybe this would be quick.

  “Did you go down on your old boyfriend?” he asked and touched himself. I nodded. I should have corrected him that the man had not been my boyfriend but I didn’t want anyone to know about those three years. “Good, then you know what to do.” No, I didn’t but I wasn’t going to say anything. I did what I could which must have been okay since Shane didn’t object and a couple times moaned his pleasure. I felt demeaned giving Shane oral sex, especially when he forced me down on him hard with his hands. I gagged a few times which must have taken the magic out of the moment.

  “Get on the bed,” he demanded and pulled me off of him. I was happy to comply yet at the same time not happy. I just wasn’t ready to have sex with Shane but I was too afraid to stop the situation. “Spread ‘em,” he ordered but instead of waiting for me to obey, he pulled my legs apart. He moved quickly, quicker than I was ready for, and when he entered me, it was rough and without much warning. I let out a small cry but he ignored me.

  “Shane, please, it hurts,” I said and tried to push him away but he was much stronger than me. The shot of whiskey wasn’t relaxing me as he said it would.

  “You just need to get used to me,” he said with a thrust. “Just lay there like a good bitch.” He sped up his movements and with each plunge I felt more and more pain but I did as ordered, just like I had done so long ago. I shut my eyes and waited for him to finish. I thought he was close to finishing when he pulled my mouth off of him but he showed no signs of speeding up to his end. In fact, he slowed down which was not what I wanted. I wanted it to be over.

  Shane slowed to a stop and kept himself in me while sucking on my neck. The last thing I wanted was a hickey for the entire world to see and I moved my head away from him.

  “Let’s try a new position,” he suggested and pulled out of me which burned. Shane flipped me over onto my stomach and then pulled my hips up. I didn’t like this position at all. He reentered me hard and I screamed into the pillow. This must have turned him on as his thrusts became faster and more forceful. The pain in my pelvis increased with Shane’s energy and I gritted it out until he finished. He collapsed on top of me, huffing and puffing.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” he said, moving off of me. I was still shaking and in pain and didn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter as he reached for the bottle of whiskey and the TV remote. He paid no attention to me as I slipped off of the bed and walked, hunched over, into the bathroom on shaky legs. When I wiped myself, I was bleeding. I turned the shower on so Shane couldn’t hear me crying.

  I stayed under the water until it began to cool and after drying off and wiping away more blood, I pulled on the fluffy complimentary robe.

  “Are you okay?” Shane asked as I emerged from the bathroom. He’d pulled his boxers back on and wrapped his arms around me. I would have been better if he hadn’t hugged me. The hug made me accept what just happened.

  In the early months, sex between us was normal, whatever normal was supposed to be, and more often than I wanted. I wasn’t against sex; I was against Shane’s type of sex which was carnal and raw. It was all I knew until that weekend at the cabin with Jack.

  Jack and I took Psych 101 the spring of our freshmen year and as we took lecture notes on various addictions, I started wondering if Shane was a sex addict. As our relationship continued and the sex became harder for me, I realized he was. When he began hitting me, this fueled his lust even more. Sex was expected every time we went out and if we didn’t, I was still expected to put out if he dropped by for the act or he ordered me to his place.

  After graduation, not only did I know he was a sex addict, I realized he was also a pervert. Against my wishes, he recorded us and if I put up a fuss, he forced me to do even more demeaning things to myself or him while he pointed the camera at me and stroked himself. If I hesitated at all, he raped me. Eventually, he required me to watch the tapes he made over and over or watch porn before, during, and/or after he fucked me. Fucking. That’s what it was. It wasn’t love making and it wasn’t having sex. It was fucking and all for his sick pleasure. The rougher the better and when I objected to him tying me up once, he dislocated my shoulder. When my shoulder healed, he tied me up on his bed for punishment while he went to play golf with his father. Upon his return, he fucked me twice, untied me, and literally kicked me out of his bed. The pain in my back after that was worse than the shoulder injury. It was easy to lie about the shoulder – it was winter so I said I just slipped on the ice – but it took all my concentration to hide the pain from my back. Shane managed to humiliate me in so many ways I just wanted to forget. I wanted to forget about all my sexual experiences except for that weekend in June with Jack.

  I held on to how that weekend made me feel, to the memory of Jack’s gentleness and his touch, in the hopes that if we made it out of this mess, we would be able to go back to the cabin. Just him and me.

  * * *

  Chapter 22

  My nose. That was the only part of my b
ody that didn’t ache. It was a deep ache that started in my feet, grew in intensity as it hit my destroyed knees and echoed in my hip and pelvis. My hands were asleep – the pain would come later when they woke up – and my wrists stung. My back throbbed in time to the beat of my heart and then there were my shoulders. They burned and were in constant spasm from being bound 24/7 behind my back. My head pounded from the damn sleeping pills. Although it took longer to succumb to them, they still threw me into a deep sleep that was not refreshing or helpful.

  Jack stirred next to me and groaned to a sitting a position.

  “How are you this morning?” He asked me that question every day and I looked forward to it. It was comforting having someone inquire about my wellbeing. I once shunned the question in the months after the car accident but now, I looked forward to it.

  “I hurt,” I said. I was honest in my answer. There was no point anymore in trying to hide my misery. Jack rubbed his face and out of habit, ran his hand over his stubbly head where his dark hair used to be.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked. It was the question I asked every morning.

  “Like death,” he replied and helped me sit up. Going from horizontal to vertical caused the pounding in my head to increase. It caused all my aches and pains to intensify and I fought in vain to keep from vocalizing my discomfort. I turned my head away from Jack so he wouldn’t see my tears but we were three months into this situation and it was hard to hide anything from him.

  He put his arms around me and gave me the time I needed to wrangle my emotions. He may have thought I was so strong but I was worn down by the near constant pain and difficulties the ridiculousness of it all caused. The handcuffs bothered me the most. There was no rhyme or reason to bind me that way but then again, there was no rhyme or reason to the whole situation.

  “I know it will hurt but are you ready to go to the bathroom?” I nodded, as my bladder was quite ready. Jack came around to my side of the bed and as always, his touch was gentle as he helped me to my feet. My knees exploded like a thousand sharp ice picks were being jabbed into them. My ankles hurt also and with each step, even with Jack trying to support me, the pain just increased. I had no idea how I made it back to the bed, which Jack made while I was on the toilet, without collapsing from the discomfort.

  “How about some cold towels?” Jack asked.

  I nodded. The only thing that brought just the slightest bit of relief was when Jack would run towels under the cold water and then wrap them around my knees. For a few minutes, the pain abated.

  Jack smiled at me which always made me feel a little better. As he went to step towards the bathroom, however, the door to our room opened. I expected to see one of our tormentors with the breakfast tray. It was indeed a tormentor, the main one, but he carried nothing in his hands but his gun. A bad feeling came over me when the other three entered the bedroom also.

  “Time for relocation,” he said. “Jack, you’ll help Penny.”

  “Where are we going?” Jack asked instead of helping me back up.

  “Jack!” I admonished out of fear. “Don’t question.”

  “Listen to your Pretty Penny,” William warned. Jack was not happy but he helped me up. I had to take a moment to get used to the pain again which irritated William. “We don’t have all day,” he groused.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied and began walking. It was torture and I hoped to hold myself together long enough so as not to breakdown in front of William.

  Just as with the trip to the bathroom, Jack kept his arm around my waist. It wasn’t much help other than providing a sense of security now that our situation was changing.

  They led us from the bedroom for the first time since the game of Russian Roulette. Each step I took was agonizing as we moved through the living room, into the kitchen, and to the doorway leading to the basement. I hesitated; I didn’t think there was any way I could make it down the stairs.

  “You either walk down or I push you down,” William said.

  “I will carry her,” Jack said in a voice that was final. Do not argue with me, it warned. I wasn’t so sure of this. Jack had gained a little weight but was still not even close to his pre-kidnapping physique.

  “Fine,” replied William and started down the steps.

  “Can you do this?” I whispered to Jack.

  “Do not worry,” he replied. “It may hurt your wrists and shoulders a bit but it will be less pain than your knees.” He was right. With my arms bound behind me it caused pain in my shoulders and wrists but it was nothing compared to what I would have felt in my knees. Jack took each step carefully but I worried. His breathing halfway down indicated he was expelling a lot of energy.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.

  “Do not be,” he replied, also in a whisper.

  We made it to the bottom of the stairs and he set me down. I was grateful Jack took his time putting me down to keep from jarring my body. We stood still, waiting for what would happen next.

  “We’ve had to make adjustments to your accommodations,” William said.

  “Why?” Jack asked and I wanted to kick his leg to get him to be quiet but my nerves kept me still. William did not look happy and Jack scrambled with his words. “I am sorry.”

  “You should be,” William replied but did not retaliate. “The Employer has decided you two have had it too cushy. The Employer also does not like the added cost of housing Penny and providing her medical care. Actually, and this is no shock, the Employer just doesn’t like Penny.”

  “So let her go,” Jack said.

  “No,” William replied with irritation. “So, through discussions with the Employer, you will be given enough for one person since the initial contract was for just Jack. You will share what you are given. Food will come for you three times a day but you are expected to share the food equally and there will be repercussions should you fuck with us on that. You will be taken to the toilet at that time also. Instead of weekly showers, you’ll alternate. I’ve decided the lady shall go first,” he said and bowed towards me. “First, however, breakfast is served in your new bedroom.”

  Our new bedroom was just the cell we were held in during our orientation but it was certainly still not a bedroom. No furniture, just the musty mattress and a bucket in the corner. Next to the mattress was a covered tray.

  The door locked behind us and Jack helped me over to the mattress. I didn’t care we were back in the chilly cell; I was just glad to get off of my feet. Jack pulled the tray over and removed the towel from it. We stared at the contents and said nothing. Our breakfast, which we had to share equally or else, was a small bowl of pasty looking oatmeal.

  “Damn,” I noted.

  “This will not sustain us for long,” said Jack.

  “But we have no choice,” I reiterated. Jack picked up the bowl but then hesitated. “What?”

  “There is no spoon.”

  I frowned. “More humiliation. Just use your fingers. Again, no choice.”

  It was humiliating to eat without utensils and I felt my mood drop as Jack fed me using his fingers. But as I had said, there was no choice. The amount of oatmeal was not even enough for one person and worry set in about how this drop in calories would affect us. How malnourished would we be forced to become again?

  The temperature difference between the bedroom and basement cell was significant as it was the beginning of March and I shivered although I’m sure part of it was caused by the new fear of the unknown. The light in the cell was on and I hoped it would stay on until bedtime. During the two-week orientation where we were starved, I hated the endless hours we sat in the dark.

  My thoughts were on the Employer and what William said. The Employer just doesn’t like Penny. Jack and I had already figured that out on our own and it hadn’t bothered me but now that Jack’s situation was more dismal, it troubled me a lot. I was the cause of this change in conditions.

  “Who hates me so much?” I asked. “I just don’t understand. My lif
e is your family; I don’t interact with many people beyond what’s needed to run the family. The only people who dislike me are Shane, my stepmom and half-sister.”

  “That makes no sense, Penny,” said Jack. “Remember, I was the target of the kidnapping. There is no ransom so it is not as if they would be doing this for the money. Yes, whoever this Employer is does not like you but you are not the reason this has happened.”

  “I guess you make a good point,” I said. “But then who is the Employer? They know me. What did I do to him?”

  “I seriously doubt you have done anything, Penelope,” Jack said and his voice was gentle, warm. “You would not hurt a fly.” I blushed and dropped my gaze to the nasty mattress.

  . . .

  An hour or so passed when William returned with Landon. It was time for my shower but I didn’t want to leave Jack; I didn’t want to be alone with our captors. I put on a brave face, however. Or, at least, I hoped so.

  “Time to freshen up, Pretty Penny,” William said. I hated when he used my nickname Millie created for me so long ago. Only the Petrov family could use it. I didn’t even let Shane call me that.

  Jack helped me up to my feet and he squeezed my elbow. I nodded just slightly in response. William unlocked my handcuffs and I moved my arms forward for the first time since my last bath. My shoulders were stiff; the hour or so they were free during bath time wasn’t enough time to loosen them up since I’d been cuffed for so long. I realized I would be responsible for bathing myself and I hoped my arms and shoulders could cooperate. Bathing was the highlight of our ordeal and if we were to alternate that meant it would just happen just twice a month.

  My legs shook as William and Landon led me to the bathing cage. My knees hurt even more but I had to force myself not to allow the pain to get to me. William unlocked the cage and led me in. On the closed toilet was a folded t-shirt and hanging from an old nail was a thin towel. The shower was one that came straight down from a pipe attached to a wooden joist.