by Nikki Steele
“Yes…”
“These wires… they’ve been cut.”
“What do you mean?”
“The wires connecting your battery. They’ve been slashed.”
I wasn’t sure I was hearing Ryan correctly. “Could they have fallen off?”
His voice was suddenly worried. “No, categorically not. These cables were deliberately cut. Tiff… do you know anyone that would do this? Anyone that might stand to gain from you not driving a car?”
I shook my head, though I knew he couldn’t see it. “That’s silly Ryan, of course not. It didn’t stop me going anywhere, it just meant I caught a taxi… instead…”
Marty was looking at me in the rear view mirror again. My sentence trailed off. Who would stand to gain, indeed? I’d thought that Marty always being around was a crazy coincidence. Could it be more than that?
I held my hand over the phone. “Marty, this isn’t the way to my place. Where are we going?”
“It’s a shortcut. Who are you talking to?” Marty asked.
“Actually, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
I could hear Ryan’s faint voice. “Tiff… Tiff, where are you?”
“Is it Ryan?” asked Marty.
I frowned. “How do you know that? I’ve never told you about Ryan before.”
Marty shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you did mention; the last conversation. Or was it the one before?”
Ryan’s voice was tinny through the speakers. “Tiff? Tiff? Are you okay?”
I held the cell back up to my ear. “I don’t know Ryan. There are trees all around. I don’t know where we are.” Then to Marty, “We should be home by now.”
Marty began to accelerate. “We’re not going home, Tiffany.”
The car got faster and faster, throwing me back in my seat. We hit a corner at with a screech, then sped down a deserted road, getting faster and faster.
“Marty? Marty, you’re starting to worry me.” The trees were a blur on either side of the cab. If I leapt out now, I’d break every bone in my body.
“You know,” began Marty, as if we were taking a Sunday drive. “The funny thing about true love is that sometimes, the other party just needs a little convincing.”
I began to look for my seatbelt, but couldn’t’ find it.
“Sometimes you don’t know what’s under your own nose. I think you said that, on your blog, didn’t you Tiffany?” Marty looked at me again in the mirror as he clicked in his seatbelt. “Or should I say, Miss Kitty?”
I gasped just as Marty slammed on the brakes, throwing my entire body forward. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was my phone flying through the air, to smash against the windscreen. My own body mirrored the action.
It fared little better.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anyone know a good mechanic?
Posted by Miss Kitty [yesterday]
Hey peeps, random shout-out. Can anyone recommend a good mechanic on the Northside? My car won’t start.
Miss Kitty.
I awoke to find Marty bandaging my face with greasy fingers.
“Whaa?” I said in a daze. I tried again. “What happened?”
“Nothing my love,” Marty said tenderly. “There, all done.” He sat back. “You know, it feels so good to finally be out in the open about this.”
“What… what’s going on?”
“We’re going to get married, of course. A small wedding, but they’re the best kind, don’t you think?”
I tried to move but found myself restrained; strong rope bound my ankles, and my wrists behind my back. “Marty, why are you doing this?”
He shook his head. “Now, now. You’re smarter than that. You know that’s not my real name.”
I stared at him in confusion.
“Go on, you’ll get it. We’ve been best friends for years. We chat all the time!”
Best friends. We’re going to get married. Marry me. “User69,” I breathed. I began to struggle against my bonds urgently.
“Good girl. I knew you’d get it!” He moved off to stoke a fire with a long metal brazier. We were in a log cabin of some sort; one small window and one door, both on the far side of the room from where I currently sat propped up against a wall. I pulled against my bonds experimentally as Marty returned.
“I think you’ll find them quite tight, Miss Kitty. You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?” He cocked his head to one side, then laughed. “Of course not. We are going to be together for ever, we might as well have pet names for each other.”
“Marty, let me go and I promise I’ll forget this ever happened.”
He looked at me quizzically. “But why would you want to forget? Today is the day we’re going to get married.” His arms spread wide, to encompass the cabin. “It will be a cute wedding; just the two of us. I downloaded the ceremony myself—we won’t even need a pastor.”
“Marty,” my voice was desperate. “You’re crazy. Let me go.”
He seemed not to hear. “A wedding in a log cabin by the fire. What could be better, right?”
I drew a deep breath to scream. Marty’s eyes focused and he picked up a knife. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I stared at him, wide eyed.
“That’s better. Not that there is anyone out here to hear you. But I do hate the noise.”
My voice broke. “Why are you doing this?”
Marty looked at me and then stared off into the distance. “Do you know how hard it is to love someone from afar? To sit at a screen all day and all night waiting for a post and never knowing when it will arrive? It started as a way to fill in time between jobs. I’d read your blogs, then go through your archives. But the more I read, the more I knew—we had something in common. We were both lost souls, looking for love.”
The blade of his knife ran down my arm gently. “You can imagine my joy, of course. And also my frustration. Here was the perfect woman, my soul mate. She existed in my time, and in my city. And yet she was a mystery to me. I had no idea where you lived, or what you looked like.”
He burst out laughing, a high pitched titter. “My psychiatrist says that’s when the obsession started. Obsession. Such a poor choice of words for the torrent of feelings within me—I tell you, it almost drove me crazy.”
“You don’t have to do this Marty. You need help.”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. Not now I’ve found you.”
I had to keep him talking. Keep him talking for long enough that I could find a way out of this mess. “How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy. By that stage I was literally driving around the city looking for you. Every time you mentioned somewhere in a blog, I’d be there within 20 minutes. My hope was that eventually, one face would start to become familiar. One face that frequented all of your locations.”
The knife tapped against his chin. “And you do look familiar, so I guess would have worked, eventually. But then my benefactor came along.”
Marty must have seen the look on my face. “Yes. It shames me to admit it, but I had help. A fellow admirer of your blog. Not as brave as me, of course, or as dedicated. He called me out of the blue a week ago and said he liked my comments. Said he thought we would be a good couple. Told me who you were.”
His free hand moved to my cheek. It took everything I could not to pull back from his touch.
“God, the guy must be rich, whoever he is. He’s paying a stupid amount of money for me to be your exclusive driver.” He chuckled. “I feel kind of bad about that—I would have done it anyway. But hey, if some chump wants to give you up and pay me for the privilege, who am I to say no? He’s the one who told me about this cabin.”
Marty put the knife down and cupped my chin with both hands. I could feel the dirt under his fingers. “I love your cute little nose, by the way,” he said, reaching up to tap it. “Did you know it’s my favorite thing about you? I couldn’t stop looking at it in the rear view mirror.” He tittered again. “
You must have thought I was a freak or something.”
A thumb drifted to my lips, pushing slowly inside. Now I could taste the sweat and bad hygiene. “Of course, I love your lips too. I’ve dreamt of them so many times wrapped around my-”
I couldn’t take it any longer—I bit down as hard as I could.
Marty screamed in pain. “Motherfucker!” His free hand flew up to bash the side of my head and I rocked back, dazed. “You fucking, fuck, fuck fucker!” he yelled, standing up, clutching his thumb. He scooped down to grab the knife, and for a moment I thought he was going to advance on me. Instead, at the last moment, he turned and threw it in rage. It stuck, quivering, into the wood in the far corner of the cabin.
I scrabbled back as far as I could, terrified, as Marty made a visible effort to calm himself. “That wasn’t very nice Miss Kitty. You made me lose my temper.” He leaned down, still clutching his thumb. “Well, that’s your fault. I take no blame for my action.”
He took a deep breath. “But I’ve read your blog, and I know you’re getting into BDSM, so I forgive you. I know you were only trying to play.” He walked to a table, picking up a roll of electrical tape before walking back. “But we can’t have any more of that. Not for what I’ve got planned.”
Grimy fingers reached out to stroke my hair, careful this time to keep away from my mouth. His thumb had left a bad taste, but I’d do it again if I could. “I thought you were a submissive, Kit-Kat.”
He hunkered down in front of me, pulling off a strip of tape then putting the roll aside. “That wasn’t very submissive of you.” Then he shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of that habit soon. You see, I play with BDSM too. But not the pain part.” His hands moved lower, until filthy fingers were drifting over my cleavage.
His eyes caught mine, and he licked his lips. “The thing I like most about BDSM is the rape fantasies.”
“You bast-”
Like a flash Marty’s other hand came up, pressing the tape across my mouth. My expletive turned into muffled protests.
Then he stood and began to undo his belt.
CHAPTER SIX
Thoughts on love stories Part 2 (extract)
Posted by Miss Kitty [1 week ago]
… Yup, at the end of every love story the heroine ends up with the hero. But you know what? Every now and again, I wish there was a twist—someone you didn’t expect, a different guy that she ended up with on the very last page…
The belt fell to the floor. I continued to struggle.
“Good girl!” Marty said. “At first I was worried that this wouldn’t be your thing, but you’re really getting into this.”
Gagged and bound there wasn’t much I could do, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. As Marty came close to caress me once more, I head-butted him viciously.
He grunted in pain, but then laughed. “So it’s the violent fantasy you want, is it?” He coiled the belt around his knuckles. “Happy to oblige.”
His fist hit me hard, on the same side that I’d been hit before. My head rocked back; cheek starting to swell.
His legs moved to straddle me. I smashed my head forward with all my might once more. It scored was a direct hit and my assailant doubled over in pain.
He stepped back and kicked me savagely in the ribs. Hands behind my back I was helpless. Pain started to cloud my eyes as I slid slowly to one side.
Marty righted me. “You’ve been a bad girl. Are you ready to accept your punishment yet?”
I worked my jaw, a corner of the tape coming lose. “Fuck you,” I spat. Marty’s fist connected with the side of my head a third time. When I slid down the wall, vision fuzzy, he didn’t prop me back up.
“You’ll learn. It might take time, but that’s ok. We’re going to be here a while.” He rolled me onto my stomach. A hand ran under my dress. “Learning can be fun.”
There was nothing I could do. I had no more fight left to give. My eyes started to tear.
Suddenly there was an almighty thump against the front door.
Marty sat up, hand withdrawing. “What the hell?”
Another thump, this time accompanied by the sound of cracking wood. Marty scrambled to his feet.
A third crash—a shoulder against the door outside—and then a spray of splinters and broken timber as the door burst open. A half seen shadow flew across the room like vengeance itself. Ryan. It had to be Ryan. I burst into tears with relief.
A scuffle, seen in short bursts as shoes flashed in and out of vision. It had to be Ryan, here to save me. Blows; hard punches traded just out of sight, solid thumps as someone was pushed into a wall.
I struggled to twist and turn against my ropes until I lay panting, head against the floor but now most of the room visible.
“She’s mine. All mine!” Marty had backed up into the far corner, hand reaching for the knife still protruding from the wall there.
Another set of shoes—my savior’s—stepped into my line of vision. Expensive leather, smart black suit pants—an outline that advanced toward my captor.
Marty found the knife, wrenching it from the wall. An evil grin split his face. “Now you’re gonna get it. Nobody gets between me and my girl.”
He slashed at my rescuer once, twice, but each time the other man avoided the blows. Something was wrong. I recognized the man, but… in my dazed state I couldn’t work out what it was. Marty slashed a third time, and then suddenly his opponent was in, socking Marty with a blow so hard I felt it.
He staggered back, dazed, and the man hit him again. Then again. The knife dropped from his hands and now Marty was trying to protect himself, hands before his face. “Please, please stop.” He tried to stagger away, and remarkably, my rescuer let him go. Marty moved toward me, face broken, nose bleeding, eyes swollen. “Kit-Kat,” he bubbled, blood on his lips. He reached toward me.
A fist rushed down from above, connecting with the base of Marty’s skull. His eyes rolled up, and he collapsed before me, head bouncing on the hardwood floor.
I began to sob uncontrollably now. Perhaps from shock. Perhaps from horror.
“Ryan?” I mouthed against my tape. But I knew even then, that the words were wrong.
The boots came to stop before me. Strong hands reached down to help me to a sitting position. My eyes travelled up legs, and belt, and jacket to… to…
“Hello Tiffany. It’s okay, I’m here now.” He ripped the tape from my mouth.
“Edward.” I gasped. It was Edward who had come to save me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Further musings on BDSM
Posted by Miss Kitty [More than 1 week ago]
Six months ago I wrote a piece, maybe you remember it, called ‘On love and relationships and BDSM’ (If you don’t, just pretend you do so I think I’ve got long-time readers, ok?). Well I’ve had some experience since then on the BDSM part of things (not so much on the love and relationships, unfortunately) so I thought I would relay my findings.
This is the part where I have to say I’m glad that the only person who knows my real identity is my best friend (You’d better not judge, ok ‘R’?) I mean, I haven’t even told this latest guy I’ve hooked up with, the one who’s into BDSM—I don’t want him thinking I’m just using him as material for my blog—can you imagine?
Anyway, BDSM isn’t like I thought it might be. The stereotype in movies is all leather and gimp masks and whips and chains. And yes, I’m sure there is a lot of that. I’ve experienced a little myself—yesterday, in his stables, this new guy tied me up and used a whip and it was the most amazing experience of my life.
But I think it’s much more than that, too. It goes deeper. BDSM is a raging stimulation of the senses that doesn’t let you hold back. It’s like suddenly watching color TV when all you’ve seen previously is Black & White. Everything is heightened—the sex, the emotions, the smells and sounds.
We’re only just starting out, but I’m hoping the BDSM, eventually, leads to a deeper relationship too. There’
s a lot of trust you need to put in someone when you’re their Sub. And there’s a lot of power you hold over someone when you’re their Dom.
Meow for now!
Miss Kitty.
15 minutes later, I was unbound and Edward was rubbing life back into my aching limbs. I couldn’t stop kissing him, over and over again, until with a laugh he pulled away. “Plenty of time for that later Tiffany.” He moved onto another wrist. “Lucky I know a thing or two about ropes!”
“Thank you,” I said in a quiet whisper. “You don’t know what he was going to do to me.”
Edward’s rubbing paused. “Oh, I think I do.” His hand went to my chin, tilting it up to look me in the eyes. “Do you see now why it’s not safe to be without me? I can’t protect you when you’re not around.”
I nodded, tears in my eyes. Edward had protected me. He’d kept me safe.
Edward smiled. “Good. Tonight, you stay with me. We’ll send for your things tomorrow and set you up in the guest house. The other girls are lovely.”
I nodded my head blindly before his words caught up with me. “Other girls?”
“Of course. They’ve already all signed the contract. They’ll be able to help you out as you get started.”
“Contract?”
Edward hunkered down before me, this time moving to meet my eyes. “It’s the only way to protect you Tiffany. To stop this happening again—live with me. Be my submissive. A dominant’s role is to protect his sub. You want that, don’t you?”
I did want that. I wanted to be protected. But… hadn’t there’d been something about the contract I didn’t like? This was all so sudden, I was finding it hard to think clearly. “Can we talk about this later? I… I’m not feeling well.”
Edward shook his head. “That’s exactly why we need to talk about it now. While the memory is still fresh. So we can take steps for it to never happen again. “
I remembered now. “But there are things in the contract I don’t want to do.”
