by Finas, A. G.
She swallows a pill with water, then lies down in bed. She is hesitant to close her eyes. Be brave, she tells herself. Or maybe the voice is coming from somewhere else. She has lost the ability to tell.
Soon she feels the sensation of fingers moving gently down her arm, then to the smooth plain of her stomach and the underside of her breasts. Her aureoles tighten. She smiles and yawns. “You're back early. And...horny! I must....must....say, this is a very...very pleasant surprise,” she says. “We're both...ready.”
A little bite on the nape of her neck makes her shiver. “Mmm,” she hums. His breath is hot on her neck and ears. She stretches and backs up closer to him. He is hard and warm. His fingers make their way down her stomach to her aching sex. They trace her outer labia and then gently tap her clit at the same time he nibbles on her earlobe. She moans softly and sighs as he slowly rubs her lips, occasionally dipping a finger into her wetness. She turns her head to give him a long kiss but instead of seeing Kevin, she is met with a blood smeared pillow pressed hard onto her face. She thrashes and flails but only long enough to claw into his back with her nails once before her supply of energy and will to fight is cut off and her conscious shrinks and shrinks until it is just a small, terrified dot.
Panic.
The room is dark and musty and warm but still, she shivers. A dim shaft of light filters through a small dirty window near the ceiling. Allie isn't dead but since she is naked, immobile and gagged on a hard mattress, she figures death isn't far off. She can hear someone walking on a wooden wooden floor above, each step sending a dangerous reverberation as though any step could crash through.
Her wrists and ankles are cuffed with itchy leather strips and tethered at angles out to her sides, forcing her body into an 'X' and exposing her to whatever might be lurking in the shadows.
She convulses with fear. The gag is cloth. It cuts into the corners of her mouth and leaches away moisture. She is desperate for water.
She waits.
If her captor or captors don't kill her, she is certain that dehydration or spiders and/or the billions of mold spores that must be wafting through the stagnant air, will. Her mother's eulogy: “Poor thing. But there's a certain type of girl whose shriveled corpse is found bound to a filthy mattress with her chest cavity filled up with spiders and mold. Allie was that type of girl and we all knew it. (pause for laughter) Her father and I just were relieved that they didn't have to pry a stolen TV remote out of her ass, though.” (more laughter)
A new light appears opposite her that illuminates a set of stairs. The light disappears and the stairs creek under the weight of a figure that, from the light of the window, appears to be wearing a black cloak, cowboy hat and mask. After her initial jolt of terror dissipates, Allie can't help but be amused. Alright spiders and mold, let's give a big dungeon welcome to Darth Brooks!
Allie's heart pounds. The figure shines a blinding light on Allie.
“Welcome.” the figure says. His voice is impossibly low. Marrow freezing low. Tingles race up her spine.
Voice modulation. Nice touch, Darth. Maybe this is a joke?
Even with her eyes closed and her head turned away, the hot light is painful. The light is set further away and put on a dimmer setting. When Allie's sight returns, she can see the mattress, the cuffs and tethers, and her captor's well defined torso. Well at least there's that.
“ I am going to remove your gag. If you make a sound without permission, the gag will go back on and you will start losing digits, starting with this little piggy.” Darth pinches her right pinkie toe and draws the blade of a box cutter across the pad. He shows Allie the bloodied blade. “Nod if we have an understanding,” he says.
Not a joke.
Allie closes her eyes and nods but is about to scream anyway- just to get it all over with; screaming until she has no toes left and all her blood drains out her feet and then her assailant will have to be content with violating a corpse. Wait, that's probably his endgame, Allie thinks.
“Good,” he says. He removes the gag and squirts what feels like a tablespoon of water into her mouth.
Is that it? If that's all the water I'm getting, there's no point in dragging this out. I should scream. And she almost does when the figure produces what appears to be a small chainsaw with large red protrusions from the chain that look like horns.
“You may scream now,” the figure says.
Allie screams as loud as she can. She goes hoarse quickly but still, she keeps at it to distract herself from the feeling of being split in half and then...and then...she realizes that the figure is holding the chainsaw against her but it isn't splitting her open. The protrusions are somewhat soft and instead of biting through her, they rub over her like a kind of...tongue. She hopes they aren't the real thing but if they are... wow...and.. And there's a wetness too, some sort of lubricant.
She is given more water and after some time, Allie lets herself succumb to the rhythm of the machine. She is sure her body will be hollowed out or quartered soon enough but for now, the situation calls for pragmatism. These are her final moments and she feels it's wise to take Gina's advice for situations like this. “Just go with it and try to enjoy it as much as possible. If you're overpowered, what else are you going to do? ” Allie closes her eyes. She'd be moaning if her voice would allow it.
The saw is put into a higher gear, quickening the slap slap slap against her delicate creases. It sounds like a remote control car racing up against her. She bites her lip. It feels very good now- so good that when a blindfold is slipped over her eyes, she doesn't notice it until the chainsaw stops. Oh shit. I'm going to die now. Allie squirms and taps into her well of self preservation even though her voice is barely a squeak. “No! No! You fucker why did you stop? Fucking fuck me with that thing you fucking fucker! FUUUCK!”
The chainsaw remains quiet while another machine starts up.
So this is it. She grits her teeth and prepares to die. But she feels the tension on her leg restraints loosen. Her rear is propped up on something soft and then a large, oiled phallus enters her. She shudders, unprepared for the size. It thrusts all the way in, then withdraws. All the way. Withdraw.
She groans and shivers with each long thrust.
Its rhythm quickens. Allie feels the mattress depress on either side of her chest. 'Open wide,” another voice commands. This one is modulated too but it's at least two octaves higher.
Another space being? For a moment , she tunes out her pleasure. Is he seriously going to trust me? Suck your cock, make me, you will? Wise, it is not.
She opens wide, expecting to be given the chance to bite off a dick. Instead, something plastic is wedged into her mouth. It's circular and stretches out the corners of her mouth. Allie is unable to move her jaw or spit it out. Next, a liquid goes in. Water- or at least it feels like water.
“Nod your head and this will end.”
What? Since when does a captive get a choice?
Of course she wants it to end- and yet she doesn't nod. Not yet. Not ever, maybe because what may come after this is is beyond troubling . What will happen? Will she get sent on her way with a lollipop and a pat on the head or be cut open?
Sharp pinches bring her nipples to attention, making her squirm in pain. She feels a cock being rubbed between and over her breasts. When it's hard, it gets shoved into Allie's mouth and all the way into the back of her throat. She gags.
This goes on until the cock withdraws and empties its hot load onto her chest. She fully expects to die now.
But the thrusting between her legs continues. She focuses on the pleasure and finds a space within herself, an untouchable place far removed that allows her to fully relax and submit. She thinks about Kevin and smiles and brings herself to cum. In this of all places. My last achievement. Inexplicably, she feels full of light and joy. She nods, ready for whatever. The thrusting stops. She is given more water and the mouth piece is removed. “You have been liberated, Allie,” she hears a voice say as she fades back int
o darkness.
Allie awakens in bed, gasping. She can't remember exactly what happened, only that it was horrifying. It must have been somewhat pleasurable though- the space between her legs is sopping wet and tingling. She can't remember the last time that happened. All the covers are on the floor, but she still has her pajamas on. Was it a dream? She swallows. Her throat is sore, so she was definitely screaming. She checks the clock. It's still Sunday 11:11 AM. Only twenty minutes have passed since she took the pill. The security cameras and alarm. Carefully, she leans over the side of her bed to make sure no one is hiding underneath and then races to Kevin's office. The alarm has not been triggered and the security log shows no recent activity. On his desk is the monitor that displays footage of all the entrances to the house. She watches the quartered screen twice over the time frames that something might have happened.
So it was all a dream. A wet one at that. Tommy, you bastard.
She returns to the couch with the insert, a Q&A piece with one of her favorite actors. It is then that Allie notices the stirring inside her. She throws the insert into the recycling bin without finishing the article. As she searches for batteries to put in the vibrator Gina had given her she tells herself that the stirring will go away soon.
Only it doesn't.
She soon finds herself buying batteries in bulk and being unable to resist touching Kevin and smelling his clothes and aching for what is just beyond her reach. It strikes her just how good looking he is. She had always known this from an objective standpoint- when they went out, she silently noted every look he got from women and men and even girls and tallied them on a mental abacus but until now, the magnitude of his desirability had never seeped in. It's a kind of attractiveness that goes beyond his personality and tangibles like his boyish mop of brown hair, his beautiful green eyes and high cheekbones.
Paintings are begun but are soon discarded, her focus sabotaged by a cloud of lust and longing. It is a deep, growling ache but no matter what she does, or what settings she tries with her vibrator, she is unable to find fulfillment. Gina compares her predicament to a person craving a home-cooked meal when only fast food is available. Every avenue of Allie's life begins to suffer. She tells Kevin about the pill but he refuses to take it for several reasons, all of which Allie considers valid.
Fine. But please at least try to do something. For me.
She tries to avoid blaming him. After all, it was she who had changed. And yet, for most men, sex is up there with breathing. Why is it so hard for him?
Allie theorizes. He runs a successful investment firm so maybe he had swapped his sexual energy for the ambition-furthering kind. Or maybe Kevin just has a dormant libidinous monster inside which he refuses to awaken for fear that he cannot control it?
She tries getting him to see a sex therapist and then a family doctor. He refuses. She serves him oysters and other foods that message board posters say are aphrodisiacs but these prove ineffective. She buys toys and videos and books and fills up drawers with negliges and sexy stockings as though she is preparing for a sexual apocalypse.
She even masturbates in his bed once when she is on the verge of tears. He responds by tilting his head and looking at the spectacle as though he's a tourist appraising a mildly annoying roadside exhibit through bifocals. Ah yes, yes. Curious. Now could you please tell me where the hell is Wall Drug?
She plies him for clues that might stir him into action. She leaves porn playing on her laptop when he is around. He usually smiles and shakes his head and otherwise ignores it but once, she sees him watching a video she'd left on that features a French maid being ravished. The next day he comes home to find her prancing around in a skimpy French maid outfit. She feels sexy and energized and ready to explode. This will do it, she thinks. She makes a show of dusting his chess set, knocking a rook and a pawn to the floor. “Oh Monsieur! I am, how you say, so sorry.” She arches her eyebrows and back, then turns around and bends over.
“I await your punishment, Monsieur.”
But no.
He chuckles, then asks how her day went and otherwise ignores her as he makes his way into the kitchen. Final straw. She leaps at him and raps his head with the handle of her feather duster and froths in his ear.
“You! You! Stupid ingrate! Do you know what I'm going through? And you... you just.. you're just like a statue. You do nothing! Do I not attract you at all? Is there nothing I can do to make you want me? When was the last time you even kissed me? Look at me! Look at this! THIS is going to waste, rotting! Do you know how many men would kill to fuck me! How many would want nothing more than to take me and throw me across the room and split me open! I'm dying for it and all you can do is stand there. Say something!” As she stands before him, vulnerable and quivering ,she hopes that her tirade will inspire him to take a cue from the porno and pull her hair and tell her how she needs to be disciplined and then go from there.
But no again.
Something flashes in Kevin's eyes that Allie registers as terror. He retreats to his bedroom and locks the door. Allie apologizes when she settles down. “You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry,” she says.
“Let's not talk about it,” he says when he comes out. He gives her a long kiss and sits down to the bowl of French onion soup she has put on the table. “We'll make love soon. I promise,” he says. “I want to give you what you're after.”
“You do?”
“I swear.”
“Will you do anything? I mean to get yourself to that point?”
Kevin nods. “Even that.”
She is having second thoughts. So many unanswered questions. Yes, there was the matter of her very disturbing and vivid nightmare but this is the least of her concerns. She hasn't had one like it since and chalked it up to a necessary sexual exorcism.
It was still a drug unknown to the world at large and it was stuffed inside the battery compartment of a calculator given to her by a world-class creeper. And even if it will have the same effect on him that it had on her with the only downside being a shiny monster truck of a libido, the dynamic of their relationship would be changed. Forever. His asexuality insulated her from some of the darker aspects of marriage...
What if Gina's theory was true- that men were only as faithful as their options? Or what if she and Kevin were sexually incompatible? Of course, we can't get any more sexually incompatible than we are right now, she thinks as she feels along the particle board of the underside of her bathroom cabinet for the remaining pill.
Allie's hands shake so much she drops the pill on the floor and spills some of the water meant to help it go down Kevin's throat. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” She asks after disclosing everything she knows about the drug once more.
“Gimme,” he says, motioning for the water and pill.
“I love you,” Allie says as she watches him swallow. She kisses him on the forehead. “So much.”
“Yo a tí también,” he says.
Ah, Esteban, Allie thinks. “Esteban” is a Latin alter ego Kevin often affects when Allie tries to be emotionally intimate. At first, Allie thought it was cute and playful but soon understood that “Esteban” was nothing more than a romantic proxy- a convenient stereotype he employs to shield his psyche from a deeper connection with her.
“Now if this works, I want Kevin, not Esteban,” she says. “Comprende?”
“Que lastima!”
“I'm going to go away so you can try to go to sleep. I'll be checking in on you though. If it does what I think it will, I have your permission to take advantage of you, yes?”
“Si, mi vida,” he says.
She paces in the living room. The third time she checks on him, he is asleep and seems to be almost glowing. So far, so good. Allie smiles, then lifts the covers. He has a massive erection. The first she'd ever seen him have. It is like spotting a specimen of a species thought to have gone extinct. She is so excited she goes back to the living room to call Gina.
“Any last second advice
for the girl who hasn't gotten any in forever?”
“Be careful. There's probably a lot of pressure built up in his balls. Enough to blast the enamel off your teeth. And old semen is like rock candy.”
“It is not.”
“You were never good at science, were you? Just don't come crying to me when he shoots holes through your innards and a brain surgeon has to open up your skull to remove all the petrified jiz pellets. And beware the early release too. An under-used dick is just like a land mine. Trust me. Remember when I hooked up with that monk when I was on a monastery tour in Belgium?”
“No.”
“Well I did. And stop judging me! I can tell you're judging me.”
“I swear I'm not. And anyway, you've been judged long ago and found wanting.”
