“Don’t think about it,” he warned, his words coming through tight lips.
He released her and reached for the scissors in his pocket, then cut away the tape that bound her to the beam. Lifting her to her feet, he all but dragged her to the table. But he was bigger than her and stronger than her and lifted her easily, sitting her on top of it.
“You’ll get one chance, Rachel. If you fight me, even for a second, I won’t hesitate to give you the anesthetic. Clear?”
She looked into his eyes but didn’t see even a hint of any kindness left there. She nodded.
“Good,” he said. Fishing the key out of his pocket, he unlocked her handcuffs. He cuffed one to the table leg and taped the other arm down to the side of the table.
“Spread your legs and bend your knees. Place your feet here,” he said.
She looked down the table at herself, hesitating.
“Come on now, girl,” he said, slapping her hip once, twice. “Get them up and spread.”
She had no choice, she knew it. If she refused, he would make her, and likely hurt her worse in the meantime. She lifted her legs, her face reddening, and placed her feet on the edges of the table.
“Shift your hips farther down. That’s right, to the edge of the table.”
Lance then took her right foot and wound the tape around her ankle and the table leg several times, then did the same with her left foot. Even if she closed her knees, he’d have full access to her, to all of her. When he was satisfied that she was securely bound, he put the tape aside and pulled his stool up between her legs.
“Lovely view,” he commented as her face turned a deeper shade of red.
He slipped on a pair of latex gloves and reached for a tub of Vaseline. She lifted her head off the table to watch in horror as he smeared a dollop of the stuff onto his finger.
“We’ll take your temperature first,” he said.
She began to shake her head furiously, but he simply carried on, calm as can be.
“I would have taken it orally but can’t really with that gag, can I?”
He met her eyes when he brought his finger to her anus and began to rub the stuff onto her. She tried not to make any sound and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, cringing as she felt his slippery finger circling and circling.
“Relax your muscles, it will go easier,” he suggested.
In response, she tightened everything and pressed her knees together.
“Oh, that’s no way to behave,” he said, standing, slapping her inner thigh once, then twice with the back of his hand. “Open your legs wide Rachel. Now.” Throughout this, he kept that other finger pressed firmly against her bottom hole.
She made some noise and tried again to free herself but it didn’t matter. She was at his mercy. He smiled. “I’ll stay right here until you relax for me.” He pressed again, a little harder, smiling even wider when the very tip of his finger penetrated the tight ring. She whimpered, forcing herself to do as he said until finally he was satisfied and removed his finger. She then watched as he took a thermometer and greased it generously before sliding it inside her.
“There,” he said, standing. He removed his gloves and threw them into the trashcan. When he turned back to her, all she could look at was the bulge at the front of his pants and a new fear gripped her. “We’ll just let that sit for a while,” he said. He came to stand closer to the top of the table and touched her face. “I’m sorry I have to do this. I don’t want to hurt you but you understand, don’t you, that I have no choice?”
How was she supposed to answer that? Tell him he was a lunatic with a personality disorder? At moments, he seemed almost normal, but then not at all. It was terrifying. She wondered if he had always been so or if it was the serum he had injected himself with that was doing it.
“You do understand?” he asked again, turning her face just a little more harshly.
She nodded, knowing it was the only thing she could do.
“Good. Let’s move on then,” he said, totally cool again. His eyes traveled across her body and he brought the tips of the ungloved fingers of one hand to her breast. She turned away when he lightly brushed her nipples, circling there, moving to the other breast and doing the same, back and forth, back and forth. Her nipples hardened in reaction and he seemed pleased by that. “Pretty, Rachel,” he said, moving his hand away and just looking at her for a moment before placing both hands over her nipples and pinching hard.
She called out, her face contorting with the sudden pain. It was only an instant and he stopped, still smiling that awful smile.
He reached for a notebook on the counter and scribbled something inside it. “Normal sexual response,” he said out loud, then closed the book and put it away, smiling.
He resumed his seat on the stool and she felt when he took hold of the thermometer. He pulled it out slowly, almost all the way, then pushed it back in once more. She clenched her bottom again.
“Soft. Stay soft. There’s more to come and you don’t want me to have to sedate you.”
She met his eyes for a moment, seeing his dilated pupils, wondering what else he would do to her.
After an eternity of sitting there just looking at her, he pulled the thermometer out. “Temperature is normal.” His hands were on her bottom cheeks, moving toward her sex. “I’ll just use my fingers first,” he said as he spread her lips apart.
She tried to tell him to stop but it came out just a flat sound. Even knowing she couldn’t get away, she shrunk just a little inside herself.
“Looks very healthy, Rachel. And very pretty,” he said, pressing a freshly gloved finger inside her. “What’s this?” he asked. “You’re not still a virgin?” He kept feeling around, sounding surprised.
She looked at him but made no sound.
“Interesting.”
She groaned in protest when he pressed deeper into her.
“Shh… It won’t take long. When was your last period?” he asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slid down her face when she turned away, this humiliation too much.
“Oh, sorry. Hard to speak with a gag over your mouth, isn’t it?” he commented, chuckling. He stood and pressed on her belly with his finger still inside her. He then removed his hand and reached for the speculum, rubbing some of the Vaseline onto it.
“I just need a sample.” He didn’t wait. Instead, he slid the thing inside her and she felt every cold centimeter as it penetrated. He picked up a Q-tip and took the sample he was looking for, removed the speculum, and stood, placing the sample into a waiting vial. He made more notes.
“Everything looks good, Rachel,” he said without turning to her.
She exhaled, thinking it was over, but dread filled her when he resumed his seat between her wide spread legs and picked up the Vaseline again.
“I just need to do a rectal exam and we’ll be finished.”
She shook her head from side to side, her eyes pleading with him, trying frantically to free her legs but unable to do more than close her knees.
He was doing this for his own gratification. She knew it, didn’t doubt it for a moment.
He dipped his ungloved fingers into the tub of Vaseline.
“I don’t want to hurt you, better to lubricate,” he said.
She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Just try to relax,” he said, standing once again. He brought his fingers to her back hole and she clenched tight. With his other hand he slapped her bottom several times, short, quick slaps that stung. “Open, relax. This is happening. It will be easier for you if you just relax,” he said, slapping twice more, these more painful. He pressed with one finger, keeping his other hand on her thigh, pushing her legs wider apart. When he penetrated, he met her eyes, pressing his finger deeper. “Good girl, just relax. Push against me, I’m going to insert a second finger now.”
She shook her head again, pleading with him to stop from
behind her gag, but he ignored her. When he pressed the second finger to her hole, the discomfort turned to pain but he just kept going, kept pressing in and out, in and out, until she knew both fingers were fully inside her.
“Just relax and maybe you can enjoy it,” he said.
She tried to tell him that she’d never enjoy it, that he was a monster, more a monster in human form than in beast form, but the tape muffled her words.
He moved his fingers inside her. “This will make it easier,” he said. His thumb came to rest on her clit. Her mind screamed for him to stop but her body just reacted. When he touched her clit, it was just nature taking over. “Ah, that’s better,” he said, smiling, moving his fingers more freely. “Much, much better. Just another moment,” he said, sitting down now. She couldn’t tell what he was doing and didn’t want to know. She turned her mind off at that moment, willing herself to separate from her body, forcing herself to not feel even as he rubbed her clit while his fingers worked inside her.
“All right,” he said, pulling his fingers out. “That’s over. Nothing wrong that I can feel or see. Curious why such a pretty little thing is still a virgin though.”
She refused to meet his eyes but watched as he moved to the sink and washed his hands. Once he’d dried them, he took a needle and attached an empty vial to it.
“I just need to take a sample of blood, then you’ll be all done. I’ll need some more equipment before I can extract the eggs.”
He didn’t need to hold her still, the way he’d bound her she could barely move. Instead, she watched the needle pierce her skin, the pain only momentary while the barrel slowly filled with her dark red blood. When the first vial was full, he removed it and replaced it with another, taking a second then third helping.
“All done. You were very good, Rachel.”
He took the scissors out of his pocket and cut her bonds. He then stood her up, looked down at her standing there naked and helpless, her mouth still covered with tape. He slipped off his lab coat and put it over her shoulders.
“I’ll get you something warmer to wear. Do you need to use the restroom before I bind you?” he asked.
She pointed to her mouth, her eyes pleading with him to take the gag off.
“All right, since you’ve been good, I’ll take it off. If you make any noise, however, I will replace it immediately and it won’t come off again, do you understand?”
She nodded.
He tore it off and she winced, the skin tingling after the initial pain from the removal of the tape. He then led her to the mattress on the floor and cuffed her to the beam again. Once this was finished, he stepped back and immediately stumbled backward, grabbing his head with both hands and crying out in pain.
“Oh my God!” she said, watching him. It was happening, she knew it. This was different than the other times when he had pain. “Lance. Lance!” she screamed. “Uncuff me, Lance. Please! It’s happening, you’re changing!”
She watched as, before her eyes, his shirt and jeans began to tear. She screamed in terror and he opened his eyes, the look in them as afraid as she felt.
His body was growing and she could see how much pain he was in. He stared at her, unable to move. “Help me,” he managed.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she watched, powerless to help either herself or him.
He screamed with the next phase of the change and struggled to the stairs, looking at her one last time before forcing himself up. She heard the door close and the heavy lock turn and for the first time since she’d woken up, she was glad to be locked in the basement of his house.
Chapter Eleven
“Christ, what the hell is that smell?” Marcus asked, walking up toward Rachel’s back door where Elijah stood waiting.
Elijah tossed a pair of jeans at him. “Took you long enough. You’re out of practice.”
Marcus pulled the jeans on and without another word, walked toward Elijah and the two hugged.
“Good to have you back,” Elijah said, patting his back.
Marcus nodded. “Should have come back a while ago.” He nodded toward the inside of the house. “Have you been in yet?”
“I just got here,” he said, shaking his head. “She hasn’t been answering her phone, but that’s not unusual for Rachel these days.”
“No, this is different,” Marcus said, pushing past Elijah and heading inside. “Do you smell that?” he asked, wrinkling up his nose.
“How can you not?” Elijah asked, walking in and closing the door behind him. He looked around at the state of things in the kitchen. “Well, she did get the kitchen cleaned up at least,” he said, noticing the dry dishes in the rack.
“Rachel?” he called out as the pair walked into the living room.
“This isn’t good,” Marcus said. “Rachel?” he called louder when he saw the torn bag of groceries, the oranges that had rolled into the living room.
“I’ll go upstairs,” Elijah said, calling to her again.
Marcus turned to the basement door. “The smell’s stronger here,” he said, running toward the basement, noticing the lights were still on. He flew down the stairs. Maybe she was in the safe room. Maybe something had scared her enough to chase her into the safe room.
“Rachel. It’s me, it’s Marcus,” he said. It was then that he saw her phone on the floor. He squatted down to pick it up and found the glass shattered at the front.
“She’s not upstairs,” Elijah said, fishing out his key for the safe room.
“She’s not here,” Marcus said, looking around.
Elijah unlocked the safe room and pulled the door open. “Rachel?” he asked.
“She’s not here. Fuck! She’s not here.”
Elijah looked at Marcus and Marcus ran a hand through his hair and turned away, slamming his fist into the wall. “If I’d been here to protect her…”
“We don’t know what’s happened yet, Marcus.”
“What the fuck do you think happened? She drops a bag of groceries obviously panicked, trying to get to the safe room and we find her phone shattered in the basement, light still on.” He ran up the stairs. “Christ, front door isn’t even locked.”
Elijah came up behind him and closed the basement door. “Let me call Kayla. We’ll go find her. That stench has something to do with it, I’m sure.”
“You think it’s what we heard the other night?” Marcus asked while Elijah dialed Kayla.
“Hey, hon,” Elijah spoke into the phone.
Marcus could her the baby crying in the background. He’d never even met his brother’s baby. What kind of man was he?
“I have to look for her. Just make sure you lock up, keep the phone next to you, understand? Don’t let anyone in until I get home.”
Elijah listened.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you. Just stay in the house for me. I’ll feel better about it, okay?”
He nodded.
“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“We’ll shift and follow the scent. It’s got to be connected,” Marcus said.
“Just a minute,” Elijah said. Marcus watched as he scrolled through his missed calls. “There was a number I didn’t recognize,” he said, apparently finding that number. He hit Call and put the phone on speaker. After four rings, it went into voicemail: “You’ve reached the voicemail of Professor Lance Weston…”
At the end of the message, he hung up. “I’ve never heard of a Professor Lance Weston,” Elijah said.
Marcus stiffened.
Elijah looked at him. “Come on, we’ll follow the scent, see where it leads us,” he said, putting a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “It’s not happening again. Everyone who was involved died, Marcus.”
Marcus searched his eyes. “We don’t know for sure,” he said.
Elijah inhaled and exhaled. “Let’s go. We’re of no use to her here.”
Marcus nodded and the two set out
into the night.
* * *
The creature roared and pounded on the door. Rachel cowered in the corner, trying to cover her ears, tears streaming down her face.
“Please go away. Please go away,” she repeated over and over again. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but it felt like an eternity since it had been trying to tear down the door.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second of the noise, it stopped. As abruptly as it had begun, it stopped and there was no more sound at all. She looked up from between her arms toward the stairs but all remained quiet. In fact, she heard nothing at all. She wiped her face on the sleeve of the lab coat he had given her to wear and shivered a little. He hadn’t had time to get her anything warm and it was cold in the basement. She thought of him, of his plea as the obviously painful transformation from man to beast took place. He had begged her to help him. His eyes had been as terrified as hers. Even after what he had done to her, what he planned to do to her, she felt pity for him.
She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Her wrists were red and raw, the insides of her forearms scratched up from rubbing up against the beam. She looked around her, noticing the syringe filled with the stuff that had knocked her out the last time. She wriggled around and got herself close enough so that she could pull it toward herself with her foot. What she was going to do with it she had no idea. Stab him. But how? She’d have to wait until he unlocked her cuffs for sure. How would she hide it? She looked down at the deep pockets of the coat. She would stuff it in there when she heard him again. No sense in doing it now and taking a chance of stabbing herself accidentally.
Okay, that was one. Things were maybe taking a turn. Not likely but it was better than having nothing. She wondered how exactly he was going to take her eggs and how long he was going to keep her. But that thought was followed by the question of what he would do to her once he was finished with her. She would be wise to remember most kidnappers don’t drive their victims back home when they’re through with them.
She closed her eyes, remembering the bulge in his pants, the comments he had made, what he had alluded to when he had mentioned being drawn to her. How long until he lost all control and raped her? He claimed he wanted her eggs for research to cure his disease and reverse this terrible side effect, but he was unstable, shifting was out of his control. She shivered at the memory of the sounds it made, the ferocity with which it tried to tear down the door. It must have found her by her scent to begin with. How would she ever hide from him even if she did manage to escape in the first place?
Claimed by the Beast Page 8
