“Do you plan on keeping me locked up in a cell forever?” I asked.
“Forever? No. We don’t have forever. For the length of your stay, though, yes. I’ll make sure you have enough food to sustain yourself, water, and a bucket to use the bathroom.”
Listening to him speak, I began to wonder if he really had a family after all. I could make as many guesses as I wanted about him, but in the end, only one thing was certain.
J was a fucking psychopath.
The Swiss hunting knife he withdrew from his back pocket captured my full attention, turning my mouth dry.
It was a limited edition with the initials HML engraved into the side. The first time I saw it was three years ago when my mother gave it to my father for their anniversary.
How the hell did he get it?
“I took it right out of the china cabinet,” he answered my silent question, turning the knife over in his hand.
“If swear, if you hurt them—”
“You’ll do what?” he asked, wedging himself between my legs.
He tangled a hand in my hair, pulling my head back so I was looking up at him again. “You’re sitting in front of me, defenseless as a baby bird.”
He paused to engage the blade, and continued. “I could have slit your mother’s throat last night, right beneath the chain of that necklace she never takes off. I could be standing here right now, telling you how I watched her bleed out all over that expensive downy comforter she was snuggled underneath. I wonder how Henry would feel, waking up soaked in his wife’s blood?”
“Please don’t hurt—”
“Shhh,” he hushed me, pressing the curved blade to my lips. “I’ll make you a deal. If you go sit in my special chair without a fuss, I won’t ever go near them again.” He moved the knife to my neck, tracing up and down the column of my throat.
I sat ramrod straight in the chair, clenching my core with the sudden need to relieve my bladder. “I—”
His sharp laughter cut me off.
“I’m just bullshitting you, sweetheart. Your parents, your friends… hell, your cat. I don’t give a shit about any of them. This was just proof of how easy it was to slip in and out of your house unnoticed.
“They should really consider a security system, and you should have considered locking your car doors. Who do you think stole your jack?”
My eyes widened. I stared up at him with a pensive expression; my reaction genuinely entertained him.
“Theoretically speaking, what would you do to keep them safe?” he questioned with open curiosity.
“The same thing you’d do to keep your family safe,” I retorted.
His eyes darting to his wedding band was enough to confirm this sick sack of shit had a wife somewhere.
It wouldn’t shock me to find out she was dead, rotting away in his bedroom closet.
“Right, well, stand up. It’s time to get you fitted for the chair.”
Without waiting for me to rise on my own, I winced when he let go of my hair and pulled me up by the arm.
Anxiety churned in my gut, increasing my need to use the bathroom.
“Wait—”
“Didn’t we decide yesterday you weren’t allowed to resist?”
I heard the clear spike of irritation in his voice. He didn’t like being refused.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I nearly whispered, somehow feeling embarrassed to say so aloud.
“Then go,” he replied, keeping hold of my arm.
I glanced around, remembering he said something about a bucket. Thinking he meant the one in my cell, I made to move towards it, slightly relieved to be getting away from the chair.
“No,” he pulled me back with a slight jerk, “go right here.”
His free hand fell to my lower stomach and he pressed down. Hard.
“Stop,” I objected, clenching my core, trying to break free of his hold.
He pressed harder, painfully jabbing his fingers into my flesh until I could no longer hold it.
Shame blossomed in my chest when the first dribble of piss leaked down my leg.
He continued to press until I was fully urinating where I stood. The warmth hit my thighs and formed a puddle of stench around my bare feet.
“You really did need to go,” he mused, shifting his dress shoes out of the way.
I bowed my head and curled my shoulders, letting my hair fall forward to curtain my face, willing myself not to give him any satisfaction. Stripped of all basic comforts, I felt like nothing more than an animal.
When I was done, he pulled me towards the chair, leaving me to drip-dry. He removed the rusted bar and set it gently on the floor.
My legs began to shake the second he forced me to sit in its place. He then leaned me down so I was on my back.
I stared up at the rafters in the ceiling as he maneuvered me into the straps, a sob lodged in my throat.
“You can scream as loud as you want. In fact, the louder, the better. No one will hear you down here. You can beg, too; I loved hearing you beg.”
Which was precisely why I didn’t. It was a small win, not allowing my misery to entertain him.
He pulled me closer to the edge of the chair, lifting a shaky limb onto the left stirrup and tying it down before doing the same to the right.
As he did the same with my arms, he pressed his solid cock into my apex. When they were secured to the point I could barely move them, he wrapped a hand around my throat, squeezing just hard enough to make me feel uneasy.
Lowering his mouth, he whispered softly into my ear. “You’re nothing but my fuck toy. You’re going to let me do anything I want to you, at any time, on numerous occasions.
“If I want to take your tight little ass until it bleeds, that’s what I’m going to do. When I want you down on your knees sucking my dick until your throat is swollen and your tongue is sore, that’s where you’ll be. You belong to me now. Every inch of you.” He touched his lips to mine once, twice, before running the tip of his tongue along the bottom one, seeking entrance I couldn’t will myself to give.
“If you keep saying no, what use do I have for you?” he asked against my mouth, squeezing my throat a little harder.
I tried to digest his words, unable to fathom that this was my reality, that any of this was actually happening to me. If this was an ultimatum, what were my choices?
Do or die?
There was only one correct way to respond, and I loathed every fiber of my being for it.
I took a mental breath to calm myself and forced my lips to part. He didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue inside, sighing as if I’d just lifted some great weight off his shoulders
I hated how soft his lips were. The taste of Listerine and menthol seeped into my taste buds.
The kiss was aggressive; he refused to let me turn away for air. I felt like he was breathing into me.
He pulled away without warning and looked down, slowly perusing every naked inch of me. “I’ve been craving the feel of your pussy on my face since yesterday,” he divulged.
I clenched my jaw to snuff out the protest as he moved down.
He lowered his mouth and, without preamble, licked me right up to the center, back to front, and then back down.
My bound hands found the edge of the chair and curled around it.
He used his fingers to pull my pussy lips apart and pushed his tongue as deep inside me as it could go.
“I can taste your piss, Harper” he breathed, delving in and out.
I was disgusted with myself for not fighting back more, for ending up in this position in the first place. For being bared wide open to this twisted fuck.
I kept my focus on the ceiling as he ate me like a man starved, alternating between tongue fucking me and suckling on my clit.
My body reacted like most bodies being stimulated would. I grew wetter the more he continued.
Arousal mixed with saliva pooled between my spread thighs and ran down the crevice between my ass cheeks. I let out a
shaky breath, fighting against a budding orgasm. Fresh tears burned in my eyes.
When he rose abruptly, the first thing he did was free his thick, veiny cock from his slacks. I hadn’t gotten to see it when he forced himself inside me the day before.
“I’m going to fuck you now, and I want you to watch,” he said simply, easing himself inside me.
He reached up and grasped the black chain dangling above my head, slipping it around my neck like a noose, tightening it just enough that my airflow was impaired.
With my four main limbs tied down, my body was forced into an upward arch, every muscle straining to hold the position.
J pulled out slightly, then thrust back in, burying himself to the hilt, forcing a grunt from my mouth.
“There we go,” he encouraged, repeating the motion until I was groaning with almost every stroke.
I gritted my teeth to keep quiet, squealing when he lurched down and bit my lower lip, not letting go until he tasted blood.
“I want to hear you,” he demanded, picking up his pace.
The chair rattled beneath us, the cool vinyl slick from our mess of body fluids.
My pussy began making a sloshing sound every time he drove in and out of it, my arms aching with each jostle.
I could feel my orgasm building, and from the way my muscles started to tighten, so he could he.
I’d never come from a cock alone. All the guys I’d slept with had had to aid me with their fingers.
It killed me inside that he was getting this from me, something I would never have given him of my own free will.
His fingers dug into my thighs painfully, forcing them down, causing the chain around my neck to tighten even further. The tiny metal links embellished into my flesh, and a burning sensation began in my lungs, spreading to my chest.
I tugged furiously at the restraints in an effort to break free.
“Please,” I croaked in sheer desperation, thrusting my pelvis higher, ignoring the way the muscles in my thighs felt as if they were going to split.
“That’s it, beg for me,” he sneered, giving my clit a tap.
“Say my name when you come all over my dick,” he demanded, rotating his hips so I felt every raw, hardened inch of him.
I whimpered, nearly sobbing in response, feeling the walls of my pussy tighten around his cock.
“Say it,” he growled, beginning to rut inside me like a beast with a bitch in heat.
It was too much.
“J,” I cried out, letting everything go on a dizzying climax.
He reached up and hit a release on the chain, freeing my neck. My body contracted, remaining in a painful arch as warmth pervaded through my veins.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at where our bodies met.
He glanced back up and leaned over me to lick away the tears that were steadily rolling down my cheeks. He continued to rock into me, slowly now, whispering sick sweet nothings into my ear, taking his time to find his release.
I lay trembling in the aftermath, unable to do anything but hold onto the hope that I would make it out of this, staring up at the only door that would grant me freedom.
–Chapter Nine–
J
-4 weeks-
I watched the blood flow like a river, slicing down into the meat.
Minnie sat across from me, doing a terrible job at trying to hide her disgust. The slight curl of her lip exposed her true feelings, her facial expression giving her away as per usual.
The sound of soft conversation and light laughter filled the air around us, disguising the fact we’d barely spoken five words to one another since our food had arrived.
I was more than happy to eat my meal in silence. I preferred it, actually. After a long week, this was the perfect way to unwind.
It’d been a full four days since I’d been able to see Harper, but my mind continued to wander back to her.
I had to remind myself I’d replenished her dismal yet vitally necessary food supply, emptied her waste, and given her a bath—all things I needed to do to ensure she functioned properly when I was ready to play again. Which would be soon.
My balls were bluer than the sky, and my dick got hard at least three times a day when I thought of my newest acquisition. She was the perfect little fuck toy, a dirty whore of my own creation.
A light touch on my hand brought me out of my deep seated thoughts, back to the present moment.
“What are you doing?” I asked Minnie, looking across the table with raised brows.
“I was trying to get your attention. Have you heard anything I’ve said?” She scoffed at my blank stare response. “Never mind, it wasn’t anything important. So, tell me, how are things?”
Chewing another rare piece of steak, I swallowed, dabbed my mouth with a napkin, and then took a sip of my gin before replying. “Things are the same as they always are.”
She gave me a smile that looked more like a grimace, returning her attention to her meal.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I didn’t care what her problem was, but it was better to ask outright now rather than deal with the issue when she brought it up a week later.
She huffed out a frustrated breath, shaking her head. “I asked you how things were and you deflected the question.”
“I answered your question.”
“No, you—”
She shut up the second I placed my napkin over my half-eaten dish. “You asked me how things were. How do you think things are? Business is great, and I’ve been feeling good lately. Other than my balls being sore, I’m grand. Anything else you’d like to know?”
Her mouth pinched into a straight line, eyes darting around to make sure no one in the restaurant was listening in.
“Is that what your problem is? You’re horny? Seriously? If that’s the issue, maybe you should go to the bathroom and take care of it, because I won’t.”
“Minnie, I’m well aware you have an aversion to sucking dick and being fucked bow-legged,” I replied, loud enough to catch the attention of two tables nearby.
Giving a polite smile and nod, I pushed my chair out and stood up.
Minnie’s mouth opened and closed, her face turning red from embarrassment. “What are young? Sit down,” she hissed.
“I’m going to play,” I replied, tossing much more cash than necessary on the table.
–Chapter Ten–
J
I passed Metric gas station, seeing it had finally re-opened.
After I took Harper, it’d been shut down, with police canvassing the area. They never came close to my property line, not knowing the pretty girl they were searching for, the same one whose parents were on the news pleading for her return, was locked up tight in my basement.
I knew how these things worked. After having her for so long, some would hold out hope that she was still alive and well, skeptics would be split down the middle, and those emotionally detached from the situation were already writing her off as dead.
Of course, only one of those outcomes would be correct when all was said and done, but that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.
Pulling up to the mid-size structure where I was keeping her, I cut the engine, grabbed my small duffel bag, and got out.
Leather shoes crunching through snow, I approached the only entrance of the front of the cabin, surveying my surroundings.
No birds were in the trees, and the wind was silent. It was a peaceful winter night.
I went inside, stomping the snow from my shoes on the old welcome mat before proceeding to the basement.
The moment I opened the door at the top of the stairs, the smell of old feces and urine wafted up to greet me.
Flicking on the light, I headed down, whistling as I went, shoes resounding off groaning wood. It seemed chillier than usual; I think I almost saw my breath.
I peered into the cell and surveyed my product contently. Harper was perched on her mattress, already in a sitting position.
S
he was coming along nicely, much quicker than expected. Total isolation seemed to be a key component for her programming.
“Did I wake you?” I asked by way of greeting, unlocking the cell.
She shook her head, blinking and rubbing her eyes to adjust to the florescent light.
I tossed my duffel bag down and went right over to the bucket, grabbing it by the handle.
I emptied its contents into the sink, pouring some oxygen bleach inside and both eliminating the smell and sanitizing.
Harper coughed a few times from the intense stench, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. My own nose burned as I breathed in and out.
“Chair,” I said, as if I were telling a dog to sit.
From my peripheral, I watched her stand and begin moving without any rebuttal.
I felt a sense of pride, watching her.
Her hair had lost a bit of its shine, she’d gotten a little skinnier, and body hair had grown in, turning that triangle patch I was so fond of into a bush, but she was still beautiful to me.
I left the bucket to soak in the sink, going to the chair to strap her in.
Her brown eyes watched me with a satisfying balance of alertness and unease.
Unlike Minnie, Harper had expressive eyes, but an excellent poker face. I often wondered what was going on inside that pretty head of hers.
“I have a wife,” I found myself saying. I wanted to talk to this girl. I’d had her long enough to know I could do that.
“The ring kind of gave that away the day we met,” she replied.
I paused in buckling the strap around her leg. Was she using sarcasm? With me?
“Her name’s Minnie.”
“Like the mouse,” she said.
“Just like the mouse.” I grinned, finishing the restraint on her other leg, spreading her pussy wide open for me.
Seeing her arms resting comfortably by her side, I decided to leave them free as a little test.
“She’s a princess, so to speak. Nothing like you. You’re a pauper—what I really prefer.” I walked over to my shelving unit and selected a simple blue dildo. “Suck on this,” I urged, pressing the rubber head against her lips.
Her mouth opened, and I slipped it inside easily, leaving it there as I removed my black button down and belt, and lowered my slacks.
Depredation Page 4
