It seemed ages ago when they had brought her the paper bag full of tampons, but she was still bleeding, and though she had started with an excessive supply, more than were usually necessary, she now only had a few left. Surely her female cycle should have passed by now; even in this timeless space, she realized that, yet she continued to cramp and bleed. It never lasted this long, but perhaps it was the stress of everything.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew Megan from her pondering. Once again, something was different; she could detect more than two sets. Not since the visit from Father Paul and Dr. Palmer had anyone entered the room except the two large men, void of expression and voice. Now it sounded like she was to have more company, and she began to tremble, fearing she would have to face the dark priest and witch again. Their last visit was unforgettably unpleasant; she suspected their return would result in a similar experience, if not worse.
When the door opened, Thing One entered with bread and water as usual. He was followed by three others. The first of the three was a woman; though the dimness of the room shaded her face, Megan could tell by her figure, attire, and gait that it was Dr. Palmer. She was followed by Thing Two and a third man who was not unlike the others: tall, thick, and with the same vacant, mindless look. Thing Three. The two men were carrying large, cardboard boxes in their hairy, muscular arms as they followed Dr. Palmer to the other side of the room. They left the door which they entered open and unattended, but Megan did not even consider bolting for the exit; Thing One, after setting her food and drink on the floor in front of her, remained towering over her in her seated position, staring down at her with no emotion in his eyes.
Megan watched as the woman led the two other men to the other door, the door with thirteen bolt locks, the one that held a looming fear within her whenever she looked at it. Its very presence was haunted by a silent threat. A lump in her throat began to swell when she watched Dr. Palmer pull a large key ring, with several brass keys attached, from her purse. One by one, the woman inserted a different key into each lock upon the door, turning them a full rotation counterclockwise.
When she had turned the last key in the bottom lock, Diana pushed the door open slowly; an eerie creak foreshadowed doom as the entrance to the unknown area offered only more darkness. Though Megan desperately wanted to know what was going on, she dared not to ask. She was too afraid to draw any attention to herself with the ruthless woman present, and she knew too well that asking her guard standing over her would be pointless. So she remained silent and watched what she could.
Diana Palmer entered the darkness of the extended room, followed by Things Two and Three; within seconds a faint glow emerged from the threshold, but Megan could not see inside from her angle in the main area. She could hear the cardboard boxes being set down; immediately following, Thing Three reemerged, left through the first door, and within a few minutes returned with two more large boxes in his arms. Meanwhile, from within the unknown room, Megan could hear Dr. Palmer instructing the second man with simple orders, such as placing this here or leaving that there. The only other sounds from the room were similar to those she might hear if a catering company were setting up for some formal event. The only thing she could see, aside from the faint glow, was Thing Two exiting and reentering with more boxes from outside.
The ordeal went on for longer than what Megan estimated to be about an hour. All the while, Thing One stood near her, saying nothing, staring down at her, but also at nothing. Finally, the glow in the other room went out, and the three others emerged. Diana pulled the ominous door shut, and used the keys to relock it. As she dropped the key ring back into her purse and headed toward the exit, she turned her head toward the prisoner. Megan couldn’t be sure in the dimness, but she thought the woman winked at her. Fearing to even make eye contact, like the gorgon of myth, Megan turned her own head away, keeping her eyes lowered to the dirt floor.
“Quite a party we’re having tonight, love,” the woman addressed her. Then she lowered her voice in a sexy, seductive, yet menacing tone. “Mmmmm… can’t wait to taste you.”
Megan didn’t respond. She shut her eyes as anxiety grew from the pit of her stomach. This was it. Tonight would bring a new moon, and with it she would finally discover whatever abominable plan they had for her. How long did she have before her end would begin? How many hours before the night? She knew that now would be the last chance she would have to pray for her sins.
She kept her eyes shut and hoped to hear Dr. Palmer’s footsteps continue in the direction they had been going. Instead, they stopped. Then silence at first, but within a few, short seconds, the footsteps started again, toward her. Megan forced her eyes open and turned to confirm that the woman was approaching her.
She immediately started to back crawl to the corner behind her, but as she did, Diana spoke gently, “Stand her up. Hold her.”
No, Megan thought as she felt the firm grip of strong hands around her slender arms, forcing her to her feet. Get away from me!
The silent beast held her tightly by the wrists, his foul stench overwhelmed her as he kept her back pressed hard against him. Diana came to her until her face was close to hers. She gripped her with one hand by her chin and forced her to look into her dark eyes. “I don’t think Paul would mind if I got a little preview,” she whispered with a wanting smile.
Megan’s breath accelerated; tears began to well in her eyes. Gently, the witch traced her nails gently up her soft cheek. Then she placed both hands upon the collar of her tee shirt, and with an unexpected strength, pulled and ripped the cloth down to the bottom as Megan let out a short, quiet yelp of fright, and with ease she slid the remains of the shirt off her captive’s quivering body. The woman immediately reached around to her back, Thing One stepped back without letting go of her wrists to make way for his mistress’s hands, and unclipped Megan’s bra.
After she helped to slide the straps from Megan’s shoulders, Diana took a moment to adore her exposed breasts. “Oh my,” she said with enticed lust, “they’re perfect. Almost as lovely as mine.” She giggled playfully. “I can see why Sonny liked you so much,” she whispered in Megan’s ear. “So pure and innocent, but so beautiful. It must’ve been tormenting for him to have had to keep his cock out of you, but rules are rules. Virgins only.”
Megan turned away again, starting to cry softly. Diana paid no mind to her refusal to watch what she was about to do. She pressed her thumbs gently upon Megan’s bare nipples, rubbing them in circular motions. “Have you ever been with a woman, love?” she teased. “No, of course you haven’t. Such a shame. You’ve been missing out.” She leaned in close to her face again, gently sucked on her earlobe for a few seconds, then whispered in her ear again, “Mmm… if I knew you were this beautiful underneath all this preppy clothing, I would have had you kidnapped weeks earlier. Then you and I could have had so much fun together.”
As Diana whispered to her, she trickled her fingers down Megan’s midsection, until they reached the top of her jeans. Slowly, she unbuttoned them, and teasingly pulled the zipper down.
Megan’s crying intensified. “Please,” she begged with uncontrollable stammering, “don’t…”
“Don’t what, dear?” Diana laughed as she slipped her right hand down Megan’s panties. “This?”
Megan then exhaled hotly with a frightened whimper as she felt the woman’s one, cold finger begin to tickle her suddenly pulsing womanhood inside her panties. A tingling sensation began to make her legs quiver violently, and though it was pleasant, she did not enjoy it at all. “Stop…” she stuttered through her rapid breathing as the tears flowed like raindrops on a windshield. She struggled to squirm from side to side to prevent this unwanted intrusion, but Thing One’s hold on her was too impeding.
Diana did not stop, only quickened the pace of her rubbing finger. “Oh come now,” she said softly, “you like it. Yes you do.”
Megan started breathing out short cries of both pleasure and disgust. She tried to fight the mi
xed sensations that overpowered her, but she was powerless against the woman’s invasion of her. Faster and faster Diana rubbed her; faster and faster she moaned and cried. “That’s it,” Diana encouraged as her finger increased its stimulation. “There you go, little slut.” When Megan could no longer hold on, an explosion within caused all of her muscles to lock up, and the sweet, repulsive orgasm came as she let out a scream.
The climax ended; Megan’s moans reduced to heavy breathing again, and she hung her head with guilty demeanor, ashamed that her body was unable to resist the woman’s touch. The pleasure that filled her during her brief orgasm did not come close to compensating for her now feeling desecrated, unclean, ruined. Diana Palmer held a malicious smile on her face as she drew her hand from within Megan’s underwear; her index finger covered with the bodily fluids that had spurt out of her prisoner, including fresh blood. The devil woman brought the finger to her mouth and slowly licked it clean. The sight made Megan nauseous.
The woman moaned ecstatically, “Yummy. Now. Your turn to taste me.”
Megan turned and stared at her abusive captor with eyes wide with horror. Before she could protest, Thing One pressed his foot hard into the back of her knee, forcing her down to a kneeling position. Simultaneously, Dr. Palmer pulled her own pair of black, lace panties down from underneath her short, tight skirt. Then she lifted the front to expose her womanhood close to Megan’s cringing face. “Lick,” the dark woman commanded.
Megan turned her head away, crying softly again.
“Lick me,” Diana repeated. “Now.”
“N-No…” Megan refused weakly.
The woman grabbed Megan’s head and turned her toward her opening between her legs. “I could put you in a trance, little slut, just like Paul did. Make you do everything I say. But it’s more gratifying if you have control. Now, don’t be so coy, pet. It won’t end well for you if refuse me.”
Megan pulled her head out of the woman’s grasp and turned away again. “You… You won’t kill me,” she fought back with a shaking voice. “You need me for your… party… tonight.”
Diana smiled, then gently gripped Megan’s right wrist, and the man behind her instantly let go. She pressed her palm against Megan’s and began to rub against it. “So soft,” she complimented. “You’re just lovely all over, aren’t you? Dear, dear little slut, I don’t have to kill you to get what I want.”
Suddenly, the beautiful witch wrapped her hand around Megan’s pinky, and with one, quick motion, bent it back. A tiny snapping sound in the cartilage of the captive’s finger was immediately followed by screams of pain. Diana waited patiently while her toy cried in anguish, holding tightly onto her wrist as she writhed and jerked.
When Megan’s sobbing started to subside, Diana gave the order again. “I hope we understand each other now. Lick me.”
Megan turned to face the legs of her oppressor with difficulty. She continued to cry, continued to feel the tears streaming down her face, but with hesitation she moved her head forward until her mouth was gently pressed against the pink lips of the woman’s vagina. Slowly, she pushed out her tongue, fighting the urge to vomit, and began to administer tiny, sporadic movements with it. After a few hesitant laps, she started to motion her tongue more boldly against the woman in more patterned intervals.
Diana began to moan with pleasure. “That’s it, honey. Oooh, I think you like it. Does it taste good, little slut?”
Megan muffled an affirmative as she began to lick the woman faster, letting her wrist that was still bound by her hand go limp.
Diana’s breath intensified as she was building up to an orgasmic state. “Yes. Yes,” whispered repeatedly; her voice growing louder with each restatement of the word. She closed her eyes and continued to moan. The girl was completely into what she was doing now, and Diana was pleasantly surprised.
Megan, realizing that the woman was as distracted as she could be, opened her eyes and decided to take advantage of the moment, revealing the purpose behind her unexpected cooperation with the woman’s twisted desires. With all the strength she had, she yanked her hand with the newly broken finger toward her, pulling Diana’s hand with it, then quickly brought her mouth from in between the woman’s quivering legs to her wrist, biting down hard, ripping flesh.
Diana screamed with hateful pain, instinctively letting go of Megan’s wrist. With her arm now temporarily free, Megan forced herself to her feet, and threw her right elbow hard against the nose of Thing One, still close behind her. The man made no cry of pain or surprise, but he staggered backward, letting go of her other wrist.
Momentarily free, she knew there was little she could do to escape. Things One and Two were already in motion to assist their leader, boss, master, whatever the woman was to them. Megan was not educated on the organizational structure of this cult of conspirators who had gotten into her life and abducted her, but the basic order of power in the room was easily clear. The zombie-like men were the muscle. The woman was the brains; the greatest threat. And she was standing right in front of her, holding her bleeding wrist and staring back at her with hatred; her lustful eyes of desire gone in a flash.
Megan wasted no time. With surging adrenaline in her system, she managed to ignore the searing pain in her smallest finger, curled her hand into a fist, and threw a hard right hook at Dr. Palmer’s jaw, lunging forward to support the strike with as much power as she could muster. For a millisecond, she thought she would connect; the woman remained still as the strike shot toward her. But at the penultimate moment before impact, Diana jerked her head to the side, simultaneously catching Megan’s wrist with her uninjured hand with lightning reflexes that did not seem humanly possible. The woman pulled at her arm, adding to the momentum of the lunge, and Megan was all but airborne. As soon as her body hit the ground, she instantly felt herself being pinned down by the weight of a large, thick knee against her back, as well as an equally sized hand pressing down on the back of her head. More giant hands gripped her arms. Against all hope, she tried to struggle, but it was all in vain. Her few seconds of freedom had ended more quickly than they had begun.
“Turn her over on her back,” she heard Dr. Palmer order with wicked, venomous contempt. “Hold her down.”
The two men did as they were told and flipped Megan over, slamming her on her back hard against the dirt floor. The impact forced her to exhale what little breath lingered in her lungs, and she instinctively gasped air back in quickly. She looked up to see the woman standing over her with narrowed eyes, holding her injured wrist in her mouth; Thing One stood beside her, holding his nose as blood began to stain his hand.
A strange silence filled the room, save for Megan’s panting. Diana only stood over her, staring down at her, keeping her wrist in her mouth. After several seconds, she released her arm and brought it down close to Megan’s eyes, as if to show her the damage she had done. Megan focused her eyes in the poor lighting; within seconds she became shocked and dismayed to see that there was no longer any blood on the woman’s wrist. In fact, there was no wound at all, not even an indentation of teeth marks.
The woman crouched beside her, still staring hard. “What did you think you would accomplish by that, Megan? Did you really think you had a chance to escape?”
That was never her plan when she decided to act. She really had no plan; she wasn’t even sure why she decided to suddenly put up a fight, except that she felt an intense urge to lash out at the woman who was violating her in inexcusable, unforgivable ways. She had been used and played for months now, the fact that she had been unaware of it until recently made it even worse. And since she had been held captive in this dreadful place, she had endured an invasion of her person beyond comprehension.
This recent sexual assault must have been her last straw, and though she didn’t consciously decide this, a hibernating strength inside her took its stand. At some point, about the time that Diana was breaking her finger, her memory surprisingly brought a picture in her head she remembered seeing
in the office of her high school track coach. It was a common but popular motivational poster, depicting an egret standing in a marshy area, attempting to swallow a frog that was trapped in its bill. Only the frog’s legs were protruding from the bird’s closed mouth, but its two front legs, like human hands, were clutching the egret’s throat in a choke-hold. Underneath the picture, a simple phrase: “Never give up.” Megan held on to that poster in her mind as tightly as the frog held the bird’s neck. There was no way out of her predicament, and she would most likely die this night, she realized, but until that time had come, she would no longer allow herself to be anyone’s toy, not while this newfound inner strength remained in her bones. Enough was enough.
Or so she thought.
“I must say,” Dr. Palmer commented; her voice calmer, back in control of herself, “I’m impressed that your spirit isn’t broken after everything that’s happened. Out of all our past selections, you’ve proved to be the most tenacious. Congratulations. But all you’ve managed to do is anger me. You’ve ruined my playful mood, slut. Now you get to see where your defiance gets you.”
Megan could not fight, could not resist anything the terrible woman intended to do now; she was pinned down by too many arms in too many places. Even as she attempted to turn her head away from the woman’s gaze, she was thwarted; with soft but powerful hands, Diana grabbed her by the sides of her head, forcing her to face up into her dark eyes. Megan feared them, having been given a taste of Father Paul’s power, sensing that all who were part of this cult were no less powerful, and she shut her own. The woman quickly adjusted, using her left hand to grip Megan’s blonde bangs atop her forehead, keeping her face-up, and tightly gripping her throat with her right. She began to squeeze.
“Open your eyes, little slut,” the woman commanded in a voice that echoed in Megan’s ears, sending waves of what felt like vertigo through her canals and into her brain. The shock of it seemed to give her eyelids a mind of their own, and she could feel them badly wanting to obey the voice. She fought the urge that she knew was not from her own consciousness, willing her eyes to remain closed, knowing full well this would only delay the inevitable for mere seconds, but fighting nonetheless.
The Paladin's Message (The Keepers of White Book 2) Page 23
