by Doyle, D. J.
“Number six, Maria. Ohhh, Maria!” The biggest princess I ever had, she was not far off six foot and chunky. Her thighs were strong, and her butt was like a big bubble, ready to pop. Long black hair and blue eyes, like a Celtic Goddess. She wore a red beret. It drove me wild with desire. I put it on my head and tilted it over my ear. To resist her for as long as I did, without her voices calling me, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. She was hot and heavy, and her pussy juice came in buckets, the best in bed so far. I felt every thrust when I pounded her, she was so tight. Her voices said I was her best lover.
Stupid bitch stopped taking her contraception. I wasn’t gonna bring a kid into our relationship. We weren’t ready for that. I looked up how to do a home abortion, just in case. I couldn’t arouse suspicion buying a pregnancy test. I had to do it. She fought me all the way and wouldn’t let me do the procedure. I lost my temper and took out an item from my wall. She shut up soon after. Even if a baby were in there, it wouldn’t have felt a thing.
She had her previous period, so I knew it was less than a month. She thought I’d let her go if she got pregnant… fucking cunt. Because of her lies, it felt appropriate to use a medieval torture tool I picked up at the antique shop, the Pear of Anguish. Used to torture liars in the mouth, homos up the ass, and women who conducted abortions. That was the law back then, and people think I’m sick. It took a lot longer than I expected. I pushed it up her vagina as far as I could and started to open it. Her eyes begged for more when it reached torture capacity. I needed it to open fully. I heard the membranes tear, like cloth ripping, as it slowly grew out like a flower opening in the morning sun. Blood gushed out as the four ‘petals’ ruptured her womb and surrounding organs. I tasted the fresh, sweet liquid as it sprayed in my face, like the pitter patter of raindrops. Glorious.
“Number seven, Jenny the virgin and her sexy underwear. Now is that a coincidence or ironic? I can’t remember which. Her silky, red underwear, was quite fitting since she let out that special red blood after I made love to her for the first time. She enjoyed it so much, the gratitude released from her pussy. I also kept the piece of sheet with the blood on it. I sniffed it and got hard, again.
“For fuck’s sake, I’m like a horny teenager,” I said and laughed.
When I saw that little bit of blood on the sheets, I melted inside a bit. Jenny cried with happiness. We spent every night together for weeks, making love. She fooled me into trusting her, and I removed her restraints. She got me drunk and tried to sneak out when I fell asleep. Little did the bitch know, I had set traps, and she lost a finger before she lost me. I had high hopes for us. She broke my heart just like the others, and I got rid of her later that night, after I screwed her one last time. Her voices begged me for it, and I gave it to her hard. At this stage, the customized baseball bat was nearly complete and a good time to try it out, too. It went up pretty far, and as I pressed the release button, I heard the nails etching away at the wood to spring out. They didn’t stay within the mechanism as I wanted. Shit! They exploded out. It was a much faster approach, but I didn’t want to keep adding new ones. The nails ripped her to shreds, some pushed through her skin from the inside. I was impressed how artistic it looked. Crimson flowed in abundance, but I wanted it to spray. To cover me. Let my tongue stick out and taste the flavour as droplets landed on it, like catching snowflakes falling from heaven. The baseball bat needed more work. Next time. The look of pleasure on her face when she took her last breath was exhilarating.
“Number eight, Fiona, the unfortunate one. A little bit of Dot behind the ears.” I didn’t need to go to her abode like some of the others. She had a bottle of perfume in her bag with a red ladybird called Dot. I don’t like thinking about Fiona, it upsets me. We never even made love, she didn’t get to experience me inside her. Shame!
“And now, number nine, from the lovely Amanda.” Jeez, I rubbed it under my nose again, divine, and tied it around my neck. I was nearly ready. Lipstick, necklace, and perfume, check! Beret and scarf, check! Now for the final piece. I stripped and put the silky, red underwear on. My emerging six-pack and biceps were starting to feel good. I wasn’t retaining my fitness with youth anymore, so every morning fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups and a twenty-minute jog had done a fantastic job on my body.
In my press, I pulled out a red, flowing dress, very similar to my mother’s dress. As it slipped over my skin, the coldness of the fabric cause shivers to go up my spine. The stubble on my legs started to bother me, it was time to shave again. The bodice clung tight to my waist and squeezed it in, and the straps snapped on my broad shoulders. The dress, not made for a man’s body, fit my slim physique well enough. I stood in front of my mirror and twirled, and stared at my reflection each time we came face to face. A large smile spread across my face when I saw how close in color the scarf was to the dress. For five minutes, I spun, and spun, and spun as the dress flowed out like a flower. It felt like heaven, and I envisioned my mother sweeping me up into her arms and laughing.
My stomach rumbled, I forgot it was dinner time. I made some pasta with chicken, maple bacon, and topped it with my homemade tomato-based sauce, adding sugar, salt and pepper.
“Hungry? I have a nice little dish here,” I asked.
She refused to open her mouth as I tried to feed her. Sauce smeared across her face as she turned away.
“Look! You’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll eat some to show you it’s safe. This is the kind of behaviour that upsets me, and we already talked about my tools.” I filled my mouth with the delicious food and chomped away until I swallowed and showed an empty mouth. “All gone.”
I heard her tummy rumbling, her hunger wouldn’t allow her to wait much longer. She ate the food from the fork and chewed cautiously at first, but devoured most of the plate.
“Good girl! I’m a good cook. You’ll realize that soon.”
“It’s nice,” she responded, quickly.
“Well, well. Most of my princesses don’t say much or are as civil on the first day...in the first week. I’m impressed and knew you were different. You’re obviously intelligent and realize there’s no point in defying me. Go with the flow and see what happens. I hope you’ll grow to like me, even love me and trust me. I just want a happy life and not to be abandoned by any bitch. Understand?”
Amanda watched me intently and nodded. I knew it, I knew it, she was the one! My princess has finally come home.
“I’m gonna say goodnight. I’m sorry, I have to keep you locked up, but I need to trust you a lot more before I remove the restraints from the bed and then from the wall. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about you. I want to get to know you. Like going on a date, I suppose. I’ll tell you about me, and you can tell me all about you.”
I brushed her teeth and kissed her forehead, she flinched a little, not taking her eyes off me.
“Goodnight, sweet, Amanda.” I turned off the light, locked the door, and went to my bed to dream sweet dreams of my future with Amanda. A happy home.
I woke up the next morning and completed my exercise regime. Made breakfast for both of us and fed Amanda the toast. She chomped on it like this kind of scenario happened to her every day. I handed her a bottle of water.
“Ye know, I’m very impressed with your attitude and resilience. We’re gonna get along just fine. I’ve a couple of hours to work in the meat factory, then we can spend the day together. I’ve left you some water and a pot to piss in. I’m gonna remove the chains from the bed. Now, don’t do anything stupid or your time here will be short.” I glanced at the cage as a warning. She didn’t move a muscle. I stood behind the bed and unlocked the restraints. Amanda flew up in the air, but not at me, she cowered in the corner with her bottle of water.
“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you. You behave like my princess, and that’s all I ask. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered timidly.
“Amanda, there is no point in putting on a pretence. I know you’re an MMA fighter and I know you co
uld probably kick my ass if you got the chance. So don’t pretend to be weak. You’re a strong girl, act like it. I’ll be back later.”
Amanda stood confidently and glared at me, not taking her eyes off me. The jig was up, and she didn’t realize how much I knew about here already. She paced for a few seconds before casually leaning against the wall and crossed her legs. She chewed on her nails. Her fucking nails. I just didn’t know what to make of this one at all.
“The only way out is the door, it’ll be locked, and there are a few traps if you manage to get past there. The further you get, the more lethal the traps are. So, I recommend you get used to being here. See you later.”
I left in a hurry, I would be late otherwise. Wow! Just wow! If we continue like this, she will be my forever princess. I only had one trap in place, if she got past that one, she had a world of wilderness to contend with… not easy at all. I raced down the pathway and out onto the road without even looking. I might get one car or truck pass by every six months, and they don’t stop for no one.
I spent the day distracted, wanting to go home to Amanda. And when my shift came to an end, I hung up my overalls to view the red swirls before throwing it in the bag to be cleaned.
“See you guys in two days.” I worked part-time and asked for extra time off this week. For Amanda, of course.
When I opened the front door, I heard a lot of commotion coming from the cellar. Well, what can I expect, there is a lot of adjustment for her. I unlocked the door and went down the steps. Whatever she had tried to do, it didn’t work. She stood against the wall again. Sweat poured down from her head to her brow. She must have been trying to pull the chains from the wall. Pointless.
I brought her a plastic bowl of water to use to freshen up.
“I’m going to make dinner, please dress up a bit. You can use this water to wash your face. I brought your makeup bag, too, if you want to use some. Please use some. I’m going to shower and change. Be back in thirty minutes.” And I left to prepare dinner.
Tonight would be our first date, so I needed something special, but still quick to make. I had chicken strips marinating in the fridge, so I added coconut milk, some spices and threw it in the oven while I soaked some rice.
After my shower, and while I served, it was time to probe as much as I could, the earlier, the better in these scenarios.
“So, Amanda. Tell me about yourself. Where you grew up, your family, your school, high-school, prom date, college. You know what I mean. I wanna hear all about you.”
“Why? Why are you interested in me?”
I set the table (nailed to the floor) and lit some small candles. I used plastic glasses, plastic cutlery, and hard plastic plates...I’ve learned from my mistakes. She tested each one to see if anything could be used as a weapon. My eyes told her to get a move on with her story.
“I grew up in the suburbs with my three sisters, they are amazing. My parents were nice enough. I never asked for anything. I went to the local school and high-school. I had a boyfriend named Justin, who took me to both the junior and senior prom. He was nice, cute, well mannered. Haven’t seen him in five years. I studied business in college and, as you probably know, I work for a large law firm dealing with the business side of things. Quite boring really.”
She gracefully ate her food and told me a bit more about herself, but left out her MMA training.
“You’ve forgotten a couple of details. Why MMA? And so you know, this cool, collective charade is working well, but it’s not fooling me. I’ve had too many here to know this is not normal behaviour. If you’re scared, that’s okay.”
She stared right into my eyes, I think she tried to reach my hidden soul deep down. I said tried.
“I was raped by an ex-boyfriend and promised myself I would never be a victim like that again,” she let out a tiny laugh with a sarcastic tone, and continued. “I trained every day until I mastered it, and I was so good I entered competitions and won. Okay, I’m not embarrassed to say I’m afraid. I am terrified. But I’ve gone through so much training, this is me reacting. If I could change something I would, but I can’t see it now, so there is no point. I’m too logical.”
My heart sank a little. I liked this trait, and if it meant in the future that I needed to find another, I would be looking for someone similar.
“Sorry to hear about your ex. How many sexual partners have you had, and did you use protection? Any pregnancy scares? Checks for STDs?,” I asked. She squirmed in her seat, and I didn’t expect an answer straight away. This usually takes many days of me asking again and again.
“Em, I’ve had three sexual partners, I used protection with all, no pregnancy scares, and I’m all clear for STDs.” she replied, without lifting her head.
“Oh, right. Good. Glad we got that out of the way. Phew!” I jokingly wiped a non-existence sweat trail from my forehead. We went through the remainder of the meal in silence, which was only for ten minutes.
“Your turn,” she demanded.
“Eh, sure! Well, where do I start? I’ve been in foster homes for as long as I can remember. I was physically abused, sexually abused, mentally abused, and then ended up in juvie for a robbery. I got released, and I’ve worked at the meat factory for over two years now. I found this abandoned place by chance and did some work on it. The inside, anyway. I’ve never had a visitor or someone accidentally come across this place.” I said that as a kind of hint.
“I want to know about the others. The women you had here and what happened to them and why. I want to survive, but I can’t if I don’t know what the other girls did to misbehave.”
Amanda, glass-eyed, stared me down. No one ever did that before. Fuck me, man, she was psychoanalysing me. Trying to understand how I ‘tick’. Clever girl. This woman just keeps getting better and better.
“Yeah, sure.”
I talked about number one, two, and three. She listened as I explained how I took them and why. What they did to ‘not’ be a princess anymore. I didn’t go into detail on how I demoted them from princess to bitch, I just pointed to the item on the cage on the wall to let her know which one I used. Amanda gagged with dry heaves when I pointed to the handsaw. She would probably think less of me now. Why did I care?
“That’s enough for now. We can talk more tomorrow and will start with you again. It’s late, and I want to go to bed.”
I left Amanda with her thoughts in motion as I brought up the dinner plates. I put them in the sink to clean in the morning. My brain shut down the moment I hit the pillow, we had the day ahead all to ourselves. I’d forgotten how exhausting it was to talk for so much and so long. As an extreme introvert, I preferred being in my head more. I wonder if Amanda realized that.
Chapter 6
Sunbeams stretched across the floor as I blinked my eyes into focus. Amanda stood over me with a lump hammer raised above her head in both hands. She swung it down with all her might. I sat up and gasped.
“What the fuck? Fucking nightmare!”
I leapt out of bed with excitement. “The whole day. Our first whole day.” All I could think about was maybe she’ll let me fuck her. Now I know she’s clean, will her inner voice tell me it’s time? Well, only one way to find out. Within a few minutes, the kettle was on, French toast was in the pan (it was still my favorite breakfast), and a smile spread across my face. I felt like the cat that got the cream.
I didn’t shave this morning, and sometimes the stubble turns them on. I whistled in unison with the kettle and made some tea. Oh, nearly forgot…I ran outside and picked some lilac flowers…well, weeds, but still pretty.
“Breakfast is ready!” I danced down the stairs to see Amanda rise from her slumber, like an angel. I brought her wonder woman pyjamas, it seemed fitting at the time. A cartoon image of Lynda Carter decorated the front…
“Oh my, Lynda Carter is hot! Even now, I could eat her up.”
I laughed as Amanda covered her chest area like I was some pervert looking at her tits rather than the
PJs. She dressed in the bathroom.
“How are you today?”
“How do you expect me to answer that? You have me trapped here in this underground hell hole until you get bored with me or I upset you. Then you’ll murder me with one of your tools on the wall. You’ve chained me to a wall with no freedom. So, Todd, how do you think I feel?”
There was no attitude in her face, just very assertive and calm. I liked it.
“Amanda, just be yourself with me. I want to get to know you, the real you. Not a frightened you or an ‘I’ll-just-do-as-he-says’ you. I hope that makes sense.”
Her brain looked like it was running on overtime and a little speechless.
“Let me start by telling a funny story. I once worked on a chicken farm and collected and sorted the eggs for sale and distribution. The farm had about one hundred free range hens that roamed every day in the fields which we rounded up every evening. The attacks came at night time when all of us were asleep. Poor chickens, we lost at least one a night. The owners made me stay outside and catch the culprit. I had a chair, sleeping bag, and...do you know what they gave me as a weapon? A bloody paintball gun. I mean, what if it was a mountain lion or some crazed animal escaped from the zoo. I awoke at about 1 am to the stirring of the hens. I heard a muffled squawk and jumped up. There I saw a raccoon with a hen in its mouth. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know raccoons attacked and ate live animals. It left the barn with a now dead hen, and I took chase, firing the paintballs in every direction. I saw pink paint everywhere, including on the fur of the raccoon. He climbed a tree, and I just lay waste to the rest of the bullets. He dropped the hen and scurried away with a big pink ass on him. The hens were safe after that, the pink raccoon never came back…well, not when I was there,”
