Freeing Lana (4 page)

“Sit up, please,” he
said, as he guided one hand behind her shoulders and lifted. Then one by one,
he untied her hands and then quickly attached them together in front of her
waist. She felt the distinctive touch of metal on her chest and stomach as he
connected her now handcuffed hands to a small chain which went to the collar on
her neck.

“I am going to untie
your feet now and lead you into the restroom,” he told her with that same flat
tone, still trying to be Italian or Spanish or whatever the fuck it was. “Do
you understand?”

“Yes.”

He did as he had told
her, standing her up and leading her into the room where the water was still
running. He gently turned her around, but before he allowed her to sit on the
toilet, he placed something in her hand. It was light and soft – cloth, she
reasoned – and closed her hand around it.

“This is a hood,” he
told her. “I made it for you to replace the blindfold. I think it will be more
comfortable. You will wait until you hear me close the door before removing the
blind fold. Then you will do what you need to do in here. I will return in 15
minutes. At that time, you will have done your business, bathed and drained the
tub. You will be sitting on the side of the tub with the hood on your head when
I open this door. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

She needed time to
think, and while she knew she didn’t have long, 15 minutes to be exact –
assuming he kept his word – it would have to be enough. When she heard the door
close to her right, she quickly pulled the blindfold off and looked back in the
direction of the other room. The light in the small bathroom was dim, but it
still stung her eyes, causing her to shield them with one hand while the other
still clung to what he had given her before he left. He was gone, and the door
was closed. That actually surprised her, but she would soon know why he felt he
could trust her with the door closed.

Aside from the toilet
she could feel with the back of her calves, the bath tub in front of her and a
small sink were the extent of contents in the room. No shelves, no medicine
cabinet, just the basics. A wash cloth hung on the side of the tub which was
about as full as it needed to be without overflowing once someone submerged
themselves into it, so she took the two small steps toward it and turned off
the faucet before checking the temperature of the water. It was close enough,
warm, but not hot. Normally, she would have preferred it a bit hotter, but
nothing else was anywhere near normal right now, so it fit better than it
should have. Besides, she reminded herself as she lowered to the toilet, any
hotter and it would probably inflame her already injured lips and face when she
did get about the business of bathing.

As she continued with
what she could only speculate would be a world record for pissing, she looked
closer around the room. There had been shelves at one time, as well as a
medicine cabinet above the sink, but they had been removed, most likely in
preparation for this bullshit.

She could no longer
hear the ticking of the clock in the other room, but she knew damn well it was
still moving right along, and as much as she wanted out of this newfound hell,
the clean water looked inviting. She needed a fucking wash badly. A second
check that the water was close enough to a reasonable temperature and she
allowed herself to slip into its embrace, letting the tears flow one more time.

Once in the water, she
took the time to look at the cloth in her hand. It looked somewhat like a ski
mask, only there were no holes to see through, just a perfectly round opening
for her mouth.

“Shit,” she allowed
herself to say as she inspected it closer.

There was a small metal
cable running along the bottom edge, interweaved through brass eyelets every
inch or so in the fabric. The cable ended with a loop on each end, too small to
allow it to slip back inside the fabric, but clearly large enough for a lock to
cinch it together. She ran her hand along her neck below the back of her head
and quickly recognized a small lock on what she now knew was indeed a collar.
No doubt the hood was designed to lock onto the collar. She would never be able
to get it off by herself. She stretched the fabric between her hands, while
noticing the pink stitching around the bottom sedge and around the…

The blowjob hole?

Yea,
the blowjob hole.
There was no deluding herself about
that. It was designed specifically to allow this bastard room to shove his dick
in her mouth. The fabric stretched some in her hands, but not much. Maybe,
given enough time, she could stretch it out enough from the blowjob hole to
allow vision, but she knew it was not something she would attempt now. A blowjob
hole! Fuck’s sake.

What if she bit the
fucker off, would he still think this was all a great idea? She almost allowed
herself a brief smile, but the reality of her situation stopped it. Sure, he
would be The Great Dickless Wonder for the rest of his life, but there was no
doubt her life would be over.

She tossed the hood
over the edge of the bath tub and began to clean herself. This was going to be
pure hell, but she was not going to die in this bastard’s house. As the warm
water washed away the filth she had accumulated of late, she made herself a
promise, fueled by a surprising calmness and resolve she never knew was inside
her. If the opportunity to escape presented itself, she would grab it with both
hands, but if not, she was going to (fucking puke) stay alive. At least long
enough to kill the sick fucker.

You
know damn well what he is going to do to you.

She did, and he would
pay for it, for fuck’s sake would he ever fucking pay for it, but she would
have to be alive for that.

CHAPTER
SIX

Sergio left the
hospital both scared shitless and relieved all at the same time. The staff
there had no record of Lana ever being admitted to the hospital, from a car
wreck or any other reason. That marked one of the two possible explanations for
Lana’s disappearance off of his list. The only one which remained was the one
he didn’t want to think about, the one where there was no need to take her to
the hospital at all.

Of course, there was a
third, and just as heart-wrenching possibility he was trying to keep his mind
from entertaining, though it was no better or worse than the last. Just because
she had been killed in a car wreck, that didn’t necessarily mean the police
would know about it. There was the lake, and the river, not to mention the
roads which twisted and turned up and down the fucking hills and wooded areas
just outside of town.

His hands almost fell
from the steering wheel in exasperation, as he allowed his mind to think one
unthinkable scenario and then another. Why the hell hadn’t she returned his calls?
Where the fuck was she?

He pulled back into the
Wholesale Warehouse parking lot and stopped his car. Maybe Ron had heard from
her.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Lana sat on the side of
the bathtub, straining to hear over the sound of the water as it swirled into a
small whirlpool before finding its way down the drain. She wasn’t sure if the
15 minutes she had been allotted had elapsed, but she was fairly sure if it
hadn’t already, then it would pretty damn soon. Her chained hands found the
bottom of the newly adorned hood and pulled it outward from her neck, wondering
with some trepidation just how tightly it might soon be cinched around her
neck. As the last of the water disappeared down the drain, she knew she would
soon find out, as footsteps began to approach outside the door in front of her.
She had done as she had been asked, so she was certain a second beating…
worse than before
…would not be
necessary.

“Very good,” he said as
he entered the bathroom. Lana could almost make out a hint of a smile in his
voice. Thank fucking God. “Stand up, please.”

She did as she was
asked, slowly and deliberately, having less difficulty than before as the hood,
still unconnected to the collar on her neck, allowed a limited view of the
floor in front of her, allowing her to maintain a better balance than she had
when her sight was completely obscured by the makeshift blindfold.

“Would it be possible
for me to get something to eat?” she asked lowly, and as humbly as she could
force herself to be. “I promise I will appreciate it this time.”

“Turn around, please”

Again, she did as she
was told, without even the slightest hint of disobedience. She had expected it,
might have even done it herself if she had access to the key, if for no other
reason than to keep him in a lulled sense of control. So when he opened the
lock on the back of the collar and then reattached it with the ends of the
hood’s cable now attached as well, she was not surprised. But she was surprised
when he punched her in the lower back, causing her to fall across the edge of
the tub, screaming out in pain as fire spread from her back down both of her
legs.

“What the f…!” she
started, but a second blow, this one with the palm of his hand in the middle of
her back, stopped her in the middle of the word, allowing only another high
pitched wail to take its place.His voice, now loud but seemingly controlled,
came in over her cries.

“Did you understand the
rules?”

“Yes!” she sobbed.

“Yet, you chose to
speak when you were not asked a question, didn’t you?”

Fuck, was he serious?
She had put the fucking hood on, knowing he was going to lock it on her head to
the fucking dog collar, the goddamn bitch collar. Even knowing perfectly well
what the fucking blowjob hole was for, she had sat there naked on the side of
the tub like he had asked, and he was pissed off because she had asked for
something to eat. After God only knew how long she had been there, starving to
death, all she had asked for was something to eat. Shit!

“Didn’t you?” he
repeated, quieter than before, no longer needing to lift his voice over her
screams, now reduced to weak whimpers. She tried to straighten herself out and
get back to her feet, but he placed a hand firmly between her shoulder blades,
holding her in place.

“Yes,” she managed,
fighting off the urge to scream it at him, while attempting to stop the tears,
hot and salty, from flowing inside the hood, the hood with the blowjob hole,
the goddamn blowjob hole.

“Did I tell you what
would happen if you did not follow my instructions?”

“Yes,” she managed.

Worse than before.

Lana felt his hand
slide higher between her shoulders and then ball into a fist around the collar
attached to her neck, cinching the leather uncomfortably tight against her
skin. She felt the leg of his pants brush against the outside of her left leg
as he positioned himself standing beside her against the porcelain tub. A brief
moment of relief tried to find its way into her head as she realized he
couldn’t rape her from there. But what was he going to do? She didn’t know. She
heard what sounded like him spitting behind her and then quickly felt his free
hand against her butt, his fingers recently wetted by exactly what she thought
the disgusting sound had been. His fingers found their way into the crevice
between her cheeks, two of them roughly forced inside her anus.

“No…” she started,
surprised and scared.

“Silence,” he answered,
and began repeatedly jamming the digits deeper inside her. She had expected to
be molested; it had pretty much gone without saying, as did the fact she would
more than likely be raped, but he was raping her asshole with his fingers,
harder and harder. That, she had not prepared for, and what little lubrication
he had provided, was quickly becoming useless and she could feel the rough
callused fingers grinding against the tender skin inside her.

Discomfort quickly
became serious pain, and it hurt like nothing she had ever known. She begged
him to stop, trying to lift herself from the tub, only to be held in place by
the hand which was steadily tightening the collar around her neck. Her chained
hands flailed uselessly about as she tried to reach behind her and, at the same
time, stop her face from being forced into the porcelain opposite her. Shit’s
sake, he was going to strangle her to death right now.

It was only when her
panic had reached what she believed to be its highest possible point that he
stopped. His grip loosened on the collar, though it was still tight and he
still held her bent over the bathtub. She felt him remove his fingers from her
bowels, the quickness causing almost as much pain as when he had first inserted
them. She collapsed in place across the edge of the tub, no longer fighting his
hand. Dear God, she was so relieved. There was no way she could have taken much
more of that. No fucking way.

“Now, this is going to
hurt,” she heard him say. She jerked her head back toward him, forgetting she
had the hood on and would be unable to see his face. What did he mean ‘going to
hurt’? It had hurt. Like a motherfucker, it had hurt. But the fearful realization
came as painfully quick as the next assault. She had only a brief moment to
feel something cold and firm placed against her sore, trembling ass. It stopped
short of the now enlarged opening, hampered by both of her buttocks just long
enough for her to realize it was much larger than his fucking fingers.