by James Evans
Just out of reach of the zombie sat a modified saw horse. He’d enhanced it with padding and augmented it with more wood to create a spanking bench. It had knee rests and forearm rests along with rings and restraint clasps. It was constructed so the breasts were freely accessible, as were the genitals. Once a body was secured to the bench, it was nearly impossible to escape. Sammy got hard thinking about the pleasure and pain ahead of him.
The zombie continued to rasp and reach for him. The head wound was matted with dried blood, and the desiccated breasts hung down like deflated balloons. One nipple was partially detached. It was a gruesome sight and Sammy couldn’t wait to show it to Laura—after she was restrained, of course.
He put his supplies within easy reach of the spanking bench and went back upstairs after blowing a kiss to the zombie. He cleaned the few dishes in the sink and tidied up the kitchen before going into the living room. He had quite a few fetish porn magazines. Not the type sold in bookstores; these were much more extreme, showing various types of sexual brutality. He gathered the magazines and threw them on the bed in the spare room.
He went onto the screened-in back porch. He liked the back porch; it was cool in the evening, kept mosquitos from bothering him, and it was private. Beyond the back yard was nothing but woods.
He decluttered the area and set out a few candles; his plan would start here.
By the time he finished getting the house ready it was nearly dusk. He hurried downtown in the gathering gloom and stepped into the shadow of the gas station. He didn’t want to be seen, especially in Laura’s company. He stayed motionless as the night patrol cart rolled on past.
Laura strolled around the corner ten minutes later, looking for him in the near-darkness. He stepped out of the shadows and said, “Hi!”
Laura flinched. “Oh! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry about that! Did you get settled into the guesthouse?”
“I did! I even took a nap. I liked knowing people were all around me.”
Sammy waited until they were out of the business district to turn on the small flashlight he’d brought with him. On the way he told her about Frankfort—the barter system, how people survived, what Jake and Lee were doing for the community. He also told her he was on the town council and what a burden it was for people to be constantly asking for his advice. “One couple asked me to marry them but I had to turn them down since I’m not really ordained,” he said.
Laura could tell he was just trying to impress her, but it wasn’t the first time a guy had bragged on himself. As they walked on, she noticed a slight change in his tone. He started complaining about the attention Jake and Lee got, saying it wasn’t deserved. He said his wife left him for another man and swore he’d get even.
Laura paused. “I thought you said a zombie killed your wife when you were in Benzonia,” she said questioningly.
“Yes, that’s true. After my wife died I came to Frankfort and met Cindy. We were together so long it felt like she was my wife.”
His story doesn’t add up. First he says his wife was killed in Benzonia. Then he says he was stuck in a hunting cabin for four months. Which would mean he arrived in Frankfort about two months ago, maybe three. Then he says he was with a woman for such a long time, he felt like they were married. After only a couple months? Laura began to feel uneasy.
Sammy shifted gears as they approached his house. “Sorry I can’t offer you a frozen margarita,” he said, “I keep the margarita mix in the cellar where it’s a lot cooler, but that’s the best I can do.” He sounded truly apologetic. They reached the front door and Sammy held it open for Laura.
He gave her a quick house tour in the frenetic light of the flashlight, then took her onto the back patio. He lit the candles and began setting the trap. “I meant to tell you, I forgot to put the solar charger in the sun today, so the batteries are low. The only place we can listen to music is the dungeon. The speakers down there require the least amount of power.”
“The dungeon?”
Sammy had slipped. He laughed and said, “That’s what I call the basement. It’s all done up in 1970’s wood paneling,”
“Oh, God, my grandparents had a room like that. No wonder you call it a dungeon!”
“At some point I’d like to paint it, give it a more modern look, but I don’t know if there’s even any paint left in town,” he said, as if he actually gave a shit about paint.
As he spoke he cracked open the bottle of tequila he’d placed on the patio table. Laura watched him unwrap the seal from the bottleneck, glad to tell it was an unopened bottle. She’d heard enough stories about women being drugged and then raped. In her parents’ day it was called slipping someone a mickey, but when she was a teen there were media reports of a date rape drug called roofies. At least she didn’t have to worry about Sammy trying to drug her!
Sammy poured them both a shot and they clinked shot glasses before downing them. He faked a shudder and said, “I never could get used to hard liquor.” Once again, Laura knew he was lying. But why?
They sat on the back porch and had a few more shots. The alcohol went straight to Laura’s head, while Sammy could barely feel the effect.
“How about some music? Feel like dancing?” Sammy asked in the light of the flickering candles.
“Yes! I’d love to hear some Old Crow Medicine Show,” Laura exclaimed.
“Me too! Let’s crank up the music!” Sammy said, getting to his feet. Laura followed him through the house until they reached the cellar door. As he opened it, he once again stepped aside and said “After you!”
“Eww, what do I sm—”
Sammy shoved Laura into the dark stairwell. She screamed as she tumbled into darkness. Sammy stood with a satisfied look on his face as he listened to Laura fall heavily down the stairs and land with a moan on the concrete floor. Then silence.
CHAPTER twenty
When Laura awoke, she was unable to move. In the dim light, she could see her wrists restrained to a wooden contraption resembling a saw horse. Her left forearm was bent at an unnatural angle and the pain made her nauseas. The stench in the room was nauseating.
She heard a clicking noise and turned her head. Three feet away stood a naked zombie, reaching for her. It opened and closed its mouth repeatedly, the teeth left in its mouth clicking together. The lips had rotted off, most of its hair was gone, and dried blood matted what hair was left. It was looking at her with eyes clouded by decay. For a moment, Laura forgot her nausea as she began to scream in a long, terrified wail. As she screamed she heard Sammy begin to laugh. She turned to look at him, but he walked over to a table and returned carrying a paddle.
“Go ahead, scream all you want. Nobody can hear you. You’re mine to do with as I please and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” To emphasize his message, he swung the paddle and struck her on the ass. Laura kept screaming, now crying as well.
“When the paddle struck your pretty ass—I’m going to enjoy playing with it, by the way—you may have noticed how much it stung. That’s because you’re completely naked. I removed all of your clothes.” He held up her sweatshirt and blue panties.
Laura’s screams subsided but she continued to sob.
“Let me tell you how things are. You’re in my dungeon. You’re restrained to a spanking bench I built. Your ass is in the air and your legs are spread so I can enjoy fucking you when I’m not punishing you. If I want to, I’ll play with your boobs.” He reached over and twisted her nipple, hard enough for Laura to cry out in pain. “I’m going to amuse myself with your body for as long as I want, or as long as you live, and when you’re no longer any fun, I’m going to feed you to the zombie. And I’m going to fuck you while it eats you.” To emphasize his point, Sammy grabbed the spanking bench and shoved it a foot closer to the zombie. It began rasping and clawing the air, agitated at being so close to live human flesh.
Sammy put the paddle back on the table and turned toward her, unsnapping his pants. He
moved behind her, out of sight, and she began to scream again as she felt his erection nudge her labia and then forcefully penetrate her. He thrust in and out for several seconds, ejaculated with a grunt, then withdrew.
A moment later he moved in front of her and squatted down. He grabbed her head in both hands. “Look at me.” She looked into his eyes. They were cold and heartless, without mercy or humor. “I was easy on you that time. I even used lube. No point in damaging the merchandise this early in the show. Now you probably think you’re going to die, and I won’t lie to you. You are going to die. You’re going to die down here in my dungeon and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. The only question is when it’s going to happen. The answer depends on you. If you do what I say I’ll keep you alive. If you try to escape, you’ll die. I’d rather keep you—”
Laura began begging. “Please, Sammy, please let me go! I swear I won’t tell anyone! I’ll do—”
Sammy struck her in the face with his fist. She felt her lip split open. “First lesson. Don’t interrupt me.” He paused and struck her again. “As I was saying, I’d rather you be a good girl and do what you’re told. I’d like you to live quite a long time. I’ll feed you now and then and let you have some water if you’re good. Do we have an understanding?”
Still sobbing, Laura nodded. Sammy struck her again, causing the blood to flow freely. She could hear it dripping onto the floor. The smell of her blood caused the zombie to go crazy, desperately trying to reach her.
“Second lesson. When I speak to you I expect an answer. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she sobbed through broken lips and bloody teeth. He reached over and grabbed her other nipple, pinching it so hard she gasped and closed her eyes in pain.
“Third lesson. You are to address me as master or sir. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied in a mewling voice as she looked at him through tear-filled eyes.
“Very good. I think we’re going to get along just fine. By the way, don’t pretend you’re not into the whole sub lifestyle. I didn’t believe your lie about the triskelion. You and I both know what a triskelion means. You wore the design to make it clear what kind of girl you are.”
Laura had never been one to enjoy 50 Shades of Gray. She considered spanking and restraints to be abusive. She had no idea what he was talking about but kept her mouth shut. “So while you scream and cry and beg, we’ll both know it’s all an act. But this is different from what you’ve done in the past. Know how?”
She shook her head but then quickly added, “No, sir!”
“I’m sure when you submitted to your Doms you had a safeword so you could wimp out when things went too far. Here you have no safeword. Because you’re not safe. You’re my slave, my toy, my own living Fleshlight.” With a laugh he disappeared, taking the lantern with him. She heard him climb the stairs then close the cellar and lock. As he walked away, her nausea came back full force, and with her mouth tasting of blood she began to vomit.
It splattered on the cellar floor. The zombie’s teeth began to click, only three feet away. Laura began to cry again, wondering why God was doing this to her. Maybe it’s not God, she thought, Maybe it’s Satan. Her parents believed Satan was their enemy. They believed he was a real being, nothing like the portrayal of him having horns and a forked tail and cloven hooves. Satan wants to destroy God’s children, they used to say. Maybe Sammy was helping him.
It was somewhere close to midnight. There was no light in the basement. Laura lay there, despondent, praying God would spare her from her fate, or at least take her life from her before Sammy came back. Her broken forearm ached, but eventually she dozed. The zombie no longer made noise.
She dreamt she was back in her parents’ house, looking out the picture window at Lake Michigan. The surf was quiet enough to see the reflection of the full moon on the lake. A moonglade! she thought, that’s the path angels take to heaven. That’s what Mom used to say. She felt at peace.
The zombie’s chains clinked as it moved slightly in the dark. She opened her eyes. A ray of moonlight shone through the small basement window. It wasn’t much, and what few details of the basement she could see did nothing to allay her fear. She was mostly facing a dark, empty corner, but nearly out of view was a table with some kind of tools on it. She couldn’t quite make out what they were, but it was the table where Sammy put the paddle.
The thought of Sammy beating her and raping her elicited a steely determination. She didn’t survive the zombie apocalypse, her parents’ death, and her forced solitude, only to have a man like Sammy destroy her.
She tested her bonds again. They were very secure, no wiggle room, no weakness. She began shifting her ass from side to side, and slowly the spanking bench began to rock. If I can loosen the boards, maybe the whole thing will fall apart. She realized she was making a little noise, so she stopped and listened. She heard nothing. She began to rock again, the bench shifting back and forth. Soon a mantra formed in her mind as she swayed:
Not the end, help me God! Not the end, help me God!
It became a type of meditation. It calmed her, gave her something to do. It also, bit by tiny bit, loosened the nails of the bench.
Eventually the moon disappeared behind the trees outside the window and the basement became dark again. She continued rocking but eventually fell asleep again.
She awoke with a start when Sammy unlocked the basement door. He traipsed down the steps, carrying a backpack and whistling. She couldn’t see him, but the zombie could, and it shuffled toward him, arms outstretched, until the chain grew taut. Sammy ignored it.
“Good morning, Laura!” he said cheerfully. “I trust you got plenty of beauty sleep?”
“Yes, sir,” she said obediently. She had to play his game long enough to escape. Sammy noticed the vomit on the floor mixed with the blood.
“Looks like somebody made a mess! I guess it’s time for a new lesson.” He grabbed a cane from the table and swished it through the air with a whistling sound. “This is my favorite cane. It’s called The Tearjerker. It’s made of a thermoplastic polymer. Here, feel it!” He rubbed the cane against her cheek. It felt like pliable hard rubber or plastic. “Now suck on it,” he demanded. She took the tip into her mouth and tried not to gag as he thrust it in and out.
“The thing about The Tearjerker is this: it takes a lickin’ and keeps on whippin’!” He pulled it out of her mouth and said, “I’ve been told the name is very apt.” He moved behind her. “Knowing what a pain slut you are, you’re going to love this.” The cane whistled through the air and suddenly her ass exploded in blinding white pain. The zombie continued to rasp and the chain clinked as the zombie strained for the human flesh, mere feet away.
Sammy admired his handiwork: her ass was now crisscrossed with bright red stripes, welts forming along the edges. He lightly ran his hands over the stripes. Her ass was trembling and she tried to flinch away from his touch, but there was no place to go. No escape, no relief. Her breath came in ragged sobs and gasps. “What does the Bible says? By his stripes ye are healed? I guess you’re getting a crash course on healing, ain’t you, Laura?!”
She heard him unsnap and unzip his pants. Once again he placed his cock between her labia and thrust, this time without lube. She felt something tear inside as he raped her. Every time his belly slapped up against her she felt a jolt of electric pain.
He glanced at his watch and said “Shit. I’m late for work.” He zipped up, stuffed her panties into his backpack, and left the basement.
Laura closed her eyes and cried softly. Blood dripped from between her legs onto the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-one
Kevin beached the canoe and walked up the hill toward the greenhouses. Once he was inside, Lee offered him a cup of hot tea which he gladly accepted. She looked particularly fetching today, wearing her usual low-cut blouse displaying plenty of tanned cleavage. “How’s Michelle settling in to life in the big city?” she asked, taking a sip from her mu
g.
“I won’t lie to you, I think she’s glad to have something to do. You can take the nurse out of the emergency room but you can’t take the emergency room out of the nurse,” he said. “I feel kind of the same way. For eight months we were cooped up in the basement of my house. We kept busy, and it helped us survive, but I think we were both kind of fading. Plus, she was cooped up with me and Doc in a small basement. I think she’s glad to have some other women around. Although I must say,” he said, glancing around as if Michelle might be within earshot, “she was kind of jealous of you. I think she suspected something might have happened between us.”
“I wouldn’t have minded if it did,” Lee said with a twinkle in her eye, “but I’m glad I didn’t cause trouble between you two.”
She spied Sammy walking up the drive toward the greenhouse. “Shit, here comes that creep.” She pulled her shirt up to cover some of her cleavage. “He weirds me out. He’s not right. Just being around him makes me feel like I need a bath. I’ll see you later. Why don’t you and Jake join me on the beach for lunch? I’ll make something to eat.”
“Sounds good,” Kevin said. “I’ll let him know you offered.”
“Okay, I have to go,” she said, looking nervously toward the door. She scampered toward the side exit.
Sammy walked in just as she reached the door. He ogled her ass as she left the greenhouse.
“Damn, she has a great ass and tits,” he exclaimed. “I’ll bet she screams like a banshee when she’s gets banged by a couple guys. I’ll bet Jake gives her a Zombie Sunglasses a couple times a week, if you know what I mean.”
Kevin had no idea what Sammy meant, but the way he said it sounded demeaning and sleazy. Being around Sammy made Kevin feel soiled, too.
Sammy moved over to the window where he could watch Lee walk back to the house. He was loudly singing, “I like big butts and I cannot lie!” when Jake walked in.
