by Matt Shaw
Hayley was still on the leather chair - secured in place with the collar attached to her neck and its lead fastened securely to the wall. Emma was crying in pain from where she was still strapped to the cage; a white mess between her legs that Chris couldn’t wait to investigate.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he walked around to get a closer look. He wasn’t asking after either girl’s health. He couldn’t have cared less with regards to that. He was curious as to see what was happening with the cement and whether it had dried yet.
Disappointment.
The cement hadn’t dried fully. There was a lot of powdery-bits to it still although, credit where it was due, there were some harder parts firmly stuck to Emma’s skin. Maybe it just needed a little more water? Mix it up inside of her with his fingers? He couldn’t help but wonder how it was faring deeper inside her. “Wait there a minute,” he told her as he hurried from the chamber. Emma-Jane didn’t have a choice but to wait. She remained there, on her back, with the concrete slowly drying. The heavy feeling inside her pussy as little pieces clumped together. Hayley was still on the leather chair, whispering to her that everything was going to be okay. Promising her that it would all be over soon. Of course she didn’t know that for definite. But she felt as though she had to say something. She couldn’t just sit there and watch without trying to offer some form of comfort.
Ten minutes passed and the chamber door opened once more. Chris stepped in with a large metal spike in his hands - five foot in length. A tool used for breaking up large chunks of concrete. The price tag still hanging from the handle.
“I won’t lie,” he said, “I’m a little disappointed.” He was referring to the concrete. In his head he imagined it would dry perfectly, much as if it was being used for the proper purpose. He thought it would have completely sealed his cum inside her forever more - allowing no access to anyone else; unless, of course, they had a pneumatic drill. Another thought popped into his head. What if he were to get one from the Home Depot? What if he were to set the spike against her half-sealed vagina and turn it on? He dismissed the idea. Not because he didn’t want to see the mess it made of her but because he knew - despite the soundproofing - there was a very strong chance you’d be able to hear it had you been passing by. Even so - something to try later on? “Sorry about leaving you like that,” he continued, “but I just had to nip into the shop to get this. I want to see how it’s setting inside you…” he walked between her legs with the long metal rod and put the sharpened end against the concrete mess of her cunt. He whispered to her that she might want to brace herself and then - hard - he pushed the spike deep within her vagina. Emma-Jane let out a yelp at first as the cold metal forcefully parted her lips, allowing some of the powder mix to spill to the floor. Her yelp turned to that of a scream as the spike continued further up her - into the uterus and beyond, perforating all that it ripped against. “Definitely not dry up there,” Chris moaned as he gave the spike a twist. He pulled it back out just as quickly as he’d thrust it into her. The end coated with white powder and blood as she started heavily bleeding internally. He took the pole to the far end of the chamber, away from both girls, and set it against the wall.
“You can’t leave her like that,” Hayley pleaded. “Please - if you want me to carry on helping you, by reading your work, you have to help her.”
Chris turned to her. He hadn’t expected a conversation. Her face showed genuine disgust for what he’d put Emma through. Disgust aimed at him was never a good way to get on his best side.
“She started this,” Chris warned her. “She did this to herself. All she had to do was do as I asked and she’d still be okay. But no, she had to get funny ideas of escape. Lessons needed teaching… But, yes, you’re right. It would be cruel of me not to help her out and that’s why I’ve come back now. To help her.”
Emma was crying her eyes out. The pain she was in, the ripping sensation she felt between her legs every time she moved, the burning as the cement ruined her insides and - of course - the knowledge that death was coming for her. Even Hayley knew death was coming for Emma. She knew that, when Chis said he was going to help her, he didn’t mean phone her an ambulance. His idea of helping someone was by putting them out of their misery. And, usually, that involved more pain on their part.
“Please just make it quick,” Hayley begged him. “For me. I’ll do anything you ask, just make it quick for her. She’s suffered enough.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Chris said. Fifteen minutes. Chris reached down and took a hold of what remained in the bag of cement. There was a reason he hadn’t used all of it, when he was pouring it into her vagina. He leaned over Emma’s face and whispered to her, “You brought this upon yourself.”
“Please don’t,” Emma wailed. Gone was the once strong girl hellbent on escape and revenge. Here was the broken girl, terrified and begging. A mess.
“Open your mouth,” Chris told her. She did the opposite. Defiant to the end. She clamped it shut and shook her head. “Open your fucking mouth,” he hissed at her. Even Hayley was crying now. They all knew what was coming. It was obvious. Had she been in Emma’s position - she too would have kept her mouth clamped shut. “I said say AHHHHH”, he grabbed her cheeks with his free hand and squeezed hard, forcing the poor girl’s mouth into an uncomfortable ‘O’ shape. With his other arm (and hand), he wrestled with the weight of the bag so that it was tucked under his arm and then - without batting an eyelid - he tipped the remaining contents over her face. She shut her eyes tight and tried to struggle away from the grip of his hand as the dry-mix filled her mouth. Before all the contents had emptied, he tilted her head back giving the last bit of the mixture ample opportunity to fill her nasal passages. With the bag empty, he let it drop to the floor. Keeping one hand on her face - stopping her from moving - he reached down to the bottle of water. That too was tipped into her mouth and up her nose causing the mixture to turn into a paste. Bottle empty he tossed it over his shoulder before using his other hand to clamp her mouth shut. Emma’s face turned red first as panic set in. Her eyes bulged wide as she struggled to get the necessary air in. Chris put his weight down onto her body to stop her from thrashing around. Hayley, meanwhile, continued to weep. She too was struggling against the lead, holding her in place via the collar around her neck.
As it turned out - it took less than fifteen minutes for Emma to be put out of her misery. A slow suffocation before the cement had even had a chance to form. Chris stared into her eyes the whole time, watching the life slip away from her. Only when he was sure that she was dead, did he move himself from on top of her body. He brushed his clothes down. Some ash-like cloud from the cement had layered him in a thick dust of grey.
Chris looked up to Hayley and smiled. “Just the two of us then,” he said. “Maybe I’ll get you a friend later on? After I’ve written up my notes…”
“No,” Hayley smiled at him. “I don’t want to share you with anyone.” She couldn’t show her fear. Not towards him. She could show it towards someone else dying, that was fine. But she couldn’t pretend to be scared of him. Her best plan - in her head - was to try and win him over. Try and get him to trust her. Saying she didn’t want to share him with anyone else was nothing to do with that though. She just didn’t want another poor girl to be pulled from her life and subjected to whatever he had in mind for them. She couldn’t let someone else go through this too.
“You can stay up tonight, if you want,” he told her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You can stay on the chair. You don’t have to go back in the cage. A little reward to show you that I like your attitude. You and I could go far.” He smiled again. A shiver ran down her spine. He nodded towards Emma’s body, “I’ll be back later to deal with that. Just sit there and get some rest. You have some reading to do when I get back.” He flashed her a wink and walked from the room, closing Hayley in the chamber with the corpse. Hayley didn’t say anything for a minute. She just sat the
re, on the leather chair, looking at the paling body of Emma. Her lips looked so blue, her eyes so cloudy. The cement around her face was beginning to dry and harden into place. Hayley started to cry.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the corpse. “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop him.” Even if she had thought of something to do to help Emma, the lead on the collar wasn’t long enough to have even got her next to him to action it. She would have achieved nothing other than to highlight the fact she was looking to escape too, which - in turn - would have resulted in her being in a similar position to Emma now. Her mind wondered as to what he was going to do with the body. Clearly he had killed other people. Emma-Jane wasn’t the first (nor likely to be the last). So what did he do with the bodies? More to the point - how hadn't he been stopped yet? People can’t do this. At least, she thought, they can’t do it and continue to get away with it. In this day and age they’re always caught. Surely they are? She started to panic; ideas bouncing around her mind hinting at the possibility of him never being stopped and her, living the rest of her days as his prisoner. If it comes to that, she thought, exactly how many days would that equal? A cold shudder ran through her body as she realised it could be for as long as her natural life. If he isn’t caught, and she does nothing to upset him… She could grow old and die here. She shook the thought from her head as quickly as possible. That’s stupid. He won’t get away with it. Of course he won’t. Someone will cotton onto what he is doing. Someone will stop him. It’s a question of when, not if.
Besides, she didn’t have to stop looking for a way out and now was the perfect time to do just that. Make the most of her allowed freedom and see if there is anything around which could help with her escape. She jumped up and hurried over to the chest. Damned collar strained at her neck as she ran out of lead to move with. Okay - the lead. Deal with the lead and then she’d be completely free. Probably a better place to start anyway. The collar wasn’t coming off, locked in place by a combination which was too small and fiddly to have much success with, without seeing what she was doing. She hurried over to where the lead was secured to the wall. Another combination lock. A glance over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone (with the exception of the dead body) and then she started moving the numbers around in an effort to try and find the right code. Click, click, click, click - tug - nothing… click, click, click, click - tug - nothing… Four numbers, she dreaded to think the number of possibilities she could try before finally landing on the correct one.
“Please, come on!” she muttered to herself as she tried another combination. No movement again, after a little tug. “Fuck sake! Come on!” She tried again, and again - still nothing. She screamed out with frustration and hit the padlock, not that either act did anything to help the situation. Maybe there was something she could use to knock it away? Hit it hard enough with something heavy and maybe it would break the code? She looked around; the chair, the potty (certainly not good enough), the chest that she couldn’t reach. She screamed again as she spun looked from side to side despite knowing there was already nothing there to help her out. She turned back to the leather chair. Maybe there was something underneath it? Something else she hadn’t seen?
“What’s wrong? Chris’ voice made her jump. She twisted herself to see him.
“You made me jump,” she said.
“You screamed before you knew I was here. What is it? What’s wrong?”
He took a step forward. Hayley resisted the temptation to take a step away, yet she struggled to find anything convincing to say as to why she was screaming. Her mind was completely blank as panic set in and her heartbeat escalated. Even her cheeks went red. She stuttered and changed the subject, “I don’t feel very well. I feel funny.”
“Funny? How so?”
She sat on the leather chair, “I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. You haven’t eaten anything. You must be hungry.” He walked over to the chest and withdrew one of the last few bottles of water. He handed it to Hayley who gratefully accepted. She unscrewed the lid and took a sip from the plastic bottle; grateful to drink but cursing that the bottle wasn’t glass. Chris threw a bag of dry-roasted nuts to her too, also taken from the chest. “I’ll get you something a little more substantial in the morning,” he told her. “I don’t know this area very well and I’m guessing the majority of the stores will be closing now anyway. We’ll hit the motorway tomorrow and stop at the next…”
“Why are you doing this?” Hayley interrupted him.
Chris shrugged. “People often ask my reasons but… I don’t know. I just am. It irritates me that people are always looking for a reason behind spoken words or random acts. Why does there always need to be something? Why can’t people just act upon something because they want to? I want to do this. I’m doing it. It’s not for anyone else but me.”
“What about the book…”
“For me. For my memories. It’s not meant for other people. That’s why it even says not to read it upon the front cover. It’s my book. I only get people - such as you - to read it to ensure I am doing a good enough job on it. You can’t very well beta read your own work. You’d always be biased and never realise your true potential.”
“But it’s just for you, what does it matter?” she asked.
“In years to come, there’s a good chance I won’t know what is in the book. Memories stolen by time or mental health. If that happens - I want the book to be powerful. I want it to be perfect and remind me of all that has passed.” Chris looked down at the body of Emma, “Anyway, I didn’t come here to have this conversation. I need to get rid of her before she starts smelling.” He turned back to Hayley, “I know I said you could stay out but, unfortunately, I need to move and that means - for your own safety - you need to get back in the cage.”
Hayley’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t want to get back in the cage. “Can’t I stay out?” she asked. Chris shook his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please, it’s so cramped in there.”
“I am going to drive through the night until I get to a suitable place to get rid of our lost friend and then - tomorrow - when we’re away from her, I’ll let you out and back on the chair. To travel though, you need to go in the cage…” He walked over to where the lead was attached to the wall and started moving the numbers around. He noticed Hayley was watched, “Can you turn around?” He didn’t move another digit until Hayley stopped looking. He slid the lead away from the wall and pulled her to her feet, dragging her to the cage. On the positive, at least her cage wasn’t the one with Emma’s body draped over it. “Get in,” he ordered her as he opened the door up. He forced the reluctant woman down onto her hands and knees and made her slide herself into position before closing her in. He padlocked the door shut again. “I really am sorry,” he told her.
Hayley could see Emma’s foot hanging from the cage at the side of her own cell. She cleared her throat, “That’s okay,” she said. She realised, as she adjusted herself to the cramped confinement of the cell, that there were worse places to be. Emma’s foot being a clear reminder of that.
“I’ll sort this as quickly as I can, I promise. Thank you for being understanding.” He turned and walked from the room. Again, it was just Hayley and the corpse. Not that she knew from her position, at least everything was about to change. By morning, she’d no longer be a prisoner.
9.
I found myself getting aroused as I watched Emma-Jane choking to death. A strange feeling considering I’d not long since cum. All these girls who claim to have fantasies of being choked - in the various horror books I’ve read over the years - I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was any part of her getting turned on by this now. Was her cunt getting wet as she struggled to breath? Were her juices mixing with what remained of the dry dust of the concrete mix, making things tougher down there? The wide-eyed, panicked look in her eyes suggested otherwise but I still couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a part
of her body that was going against her initial instincts. A little twinge from within that the gagging was exciting.
It wasn’t long before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she lost consciousness. I knew that death wouldn’t be far round the corner. I wasn’t disappointed though. I had had my fun with her and it seemed the other girl - Hayley - was more than willing to make up for the companion I had lost this evening. Before she revealed that side to her, I was starting to lose hope of ever finding a companion who’d stick with me until the inevitable end to the road-trip. I’d almost decided to stop looking but then she came out with that.
#
Chris was sitting at the table, writing in his book. A quick entry before heading off into the night to find a perfect place to dump the body of Emma. He knew - realistically - he should have driven straight off to find a good area to dispose of her but also knew the chances of missing some vital details about what had happened would also be likely. He hadn’t written this entire book to fuck up and start missing bits out now. He stopped suddenly, eyes drawn to the flat screen television on the wall of his rig. Some news program was playing in the background with the volume turned low. He hadn’t intentionally been watching it. There had been some quiz show playing - quietly - before the news came on and he’d just been so pre-occupied with scribbling some quick notes down before leaving the carpark, that he hadn’t noticed. He noticed now though. His lorry was displayed on the picture. Parked up in the restaurant car park where he’d first met Hayley. He watched the sequence play out with his mouth wide open in disbelief. He hadn’t seen any cameras. He’d looked but there hadn’t appeared to be any. He reached up to the set and started flicking from channel to channel until another news program started. Local news; it lead with the story of what had happened in the restaurant. He turned the television up as he watched the CCTV footage play-out. The voice of the news presenter spoke over the top stating how police wanted to speak to him in connection to what had happened at the restaurant. It didn’t speak of him as a suspect but it did label him as a potential witness.
