Freeing Lana (9 page)

She sat across from him
at the table, trading a glass of iced tea for the cigarette he held in front of
him, and as he took a long, slow drink from the glass, his eyes were watching
her. She inhaled deeply, like a drunk taking his first drink of the day. Of
course, it could just be a matter of her succumbing to the addictive properties
of the nicotine, but he doubted it. No, she needed that cigarette. Whatever she
had been dealing with before he arrived had upset her to the point she needed
something to calm the nerves just a bit. He found himself surprised she hadn’t
offered him a drink of something a bit stronger. There was no hiding the fact,
no matter how bravely she was trying, that she could use a stiff drink.

Or perhaps a stiff…

Shut up. This wasn’t
the time and he knew it. Still, though his only thoughts had been about her
rescue in the moment that day, the images of her naked body on the floor in
Daniel’s bedroom haunted him frequently. Over time, he had been able to ‘clean
up’ the images in his head, removing the blood and bruises, leaving only her
naked body on display for him to enjoy.

“This is good tea,” he
offered after enough time had elapsed for the nicotine to soothe her
embarrassment some. Of course, he had used the short pause to rid his own mind
of the things they wouldn’t talk about as well.

“Thanks.
You off today?”

“Hell, I’m always a
little off.”

The smile he had first
seen when she opened the door returned now and he knew they would get through
this now without further awkwardness. The chess match would fade away, replaced
by the safer, simpler game of catch, casually tossing clichéd remarks back and
forth until he would eventually excuse himself.
Same game,
different day.
It had become an art form between them; the routine
practiced enough to become second nature.

“How’s Sergio?”

“He’s good.”

The smile that once
beamed when she talked about him seemed a bit more forced, and as he pulled the
pack of smokes from his coat pocket, he watched her lower her head slightly,
avoiding his eyes. There it was. Apparently, something wasn’t overly pleasant
in Pleasantville. Nothing too severe, he reasoned, but not quite right,
nonetheless. He lit another of the cigarettes and offered it to her.

“A
refill?”

“Why not,” she said,
putting out the one she had ‘power smoked’ with one hand and taking the newest
one with the other. He lit another for himself and again let the uneasiness
retreat back to the safety of the World of Unspoken Truths. Someday, they would
talk about this, he was convinced of that, but it wouldn’t be today.

They talked for the
better half of an hour, again not really saying anything, but rather filling
space in the quietness which threatened to release thoughts of some
significance. It was a dance, one he found he was actually enjoying, the
harmless dance done to faster, less intimate songs. It was harmless in the eyes
of the chaperones, but he knew some form of tension was building, some unspoken
agreement they would meet at another time, in another place. When he had first
recognized it, it had scared him a bit. He wasn’t a predator, not like Daniel;
he couldn’t take advantage of the weakness she had undoubtedly developed after
all the craziness. But still he returned to check on her; still he knew
someday, they would dance to a different song.

Tinkerton folded the
ashtray over itself and returned it to his pocket, the butts to be discarded
later, as Lana got up and retrieved the can of air freshener. That’s right;
cover your tracks, little one. The smile, unnoticed by her as she went about
the business or removing the smell of cigarettes from the room, came up without
intent. After she let him out the door, she would often leave the door open,
allowing air drawn in through the kitchen window she would also open, to push
the smoke out of the house as well. By the time Sergio came home, there would
be nothing left of the day’s deception.

They traded more
pleasantries as she led him to the door, the same automatic exchanges done
across the world: take care, call me if you need anything, come back soon, etc.
It was cute, but necessary for the time being. When they reached the door, he
turned and welcomed the hug she always offered before opening the door. It was
a little tighter this time, and he believed she held a bit longer as well. It
had been a good visit, one he now believed she had needed as much as he had, if
not more. Then he left the small house and allowed her to return to her own
thoughts, as he walked into the ones he knew were coming, those of her, naked on
the floor. Maybe she would think of him too, maybe not.

Yea,
and maybe monkeys will fly out of your ass.

Shut up.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Sergio Marsili stepped
out of the meeting room content that it had gone well. The employees at the
Wholesale Warehouse had been doing great lately, the numbers proved that beyond
doubt, and he had wanted to tell them so. He had told them about the company
dinner he had planned as a way to show his, and the company’s appreciation.
Spouses, or significant others were invited as well to enjoy the catered steak
dinner. An open bar would be available as well, though he had jokingly made it
clear that he would hate to have to fire someone for acting the ass. They had
received the message and for the most part, the overall tone had said they
liked the idea. Sure, like anything else, there were a few who didn’t try too
hard to hide their displeasure, but that was to be expected. He had been asked
if their presence was mandatory, to which he had laughed. No, of course not, it
was just intended to be a big, even if too big, ‘thank you,’ nothing more. That
seemed to appease the naysayers, if not convince them to attend, but then he
was pretty sure he removed any remaining disapproval when he told them that
bonuses would be handed out during the dinner.

They really had been
doing a great job; the overall morale in the store had skyrocketed relatively
quickly, a trend he attributed as much to the removal of Ronas he did to
anything he had done since taking the reins. The big bosses in Chicago had
given him all of the credit, reminding him of what they had told him when he
had been given the position: there were no bad teams, only bad leaders. They
apparently felt the opposite was also true, and had rewarded him with a very
large bonus. When he had asked if it would be against any company policy if he
used some of the money, they had just smiled. One of them asked to see the
check, the one in his name for $25,000, for a moment. He wondered if he had
made a mistake, but quickly knew he had hit one out of the park.

A few nods back and
forth between the men across the table from him later, the man handed him a
different check, one he had kept under the folder in front of him. It was
written out to him as well, but this one was for $40,000. They told him the
money was his, and he could do whatever he wanted to with it.

The dinner was going to
run just under two grand for the 22 employees and him, and though he would keep
a bit for himself and Lana, the rest would be distributed equally between them.
An envelope was already in the safe in his office with each of their names on
it. Inside each envelope were 15 crisp hundred dollar bills. Sure, he could
have done a lot with the money, but he held the belief that his company’s view
of leadership was incomplete. To him, there could be no good leader without a
good team. The $5,000 would be plenty for him and Lana to celebrate with. With
his salary, and what he had managed to put back, it would be enough to make the
down payment on the house he had been keeping an eye on. That was all he had
been waiting for really; the engagement ring was tucked away in a safety
deposit box at the bank. Now, he could make an offer on the house and offer her
the ring.

Life was good.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

The warm water in the
cast iron bathtub held her in its arms, as Lana happily sank deep into its
embrace. The aroma of the lilac coming from the water and filling the air
around her only added to the delusion of cerebral liberation, and she allowed
her mind to wander unadulterated. The small towel, heavy from the scented
water, rested on her head, clinging tightly against her face, while blocking
out most of the light which crawled into the bath room under the door, leaving
her in a darkened dream of reality.

Heavy and dark, the wet
towel acted as a portal, transporting her thoughts to their darkest corner, to
the mask under her dresser, allowing a glimpse into a freedom she could only
try to imagine.

In the reality forming
in her mind, there was no shame, no fear, but pure submission based on absolute
worship. It didn’t emit weakness, helplessness, but the strength to look her
truest nature in the eyes and dare it to fuck her, make her beg it to stop, to
be worthy of her praise and loyalty. To truly be a god worthy of the goddess of
lust she was becoming, or intending to become.

The more she allowed
the image of her own sweet depravity to spread its wings, the more she was
coming to an uncomfortable realization; Sergio, for all he was, was not that
god. A kind hearted priest perhaps, attempting to show her where the altar was,
or at the least keeping the altar she had designed herself clean, but not the
god to whom she could fully worship upon that altar.

She hated to admit it,
but the prick that kidnapped her and held her as his slave, was closer to that
role than anyone else. But he wasn’t god either; he was just a fucked up dick,
playing with a hymnal. Still, he had inadvertently pointed her toward the
mountain top, the place where she might find the god she desired. He had shown
her how to pray for salvation, in darkness, and in rapturous pain.

Lana drifted through
the heavens, that astral causeway of thought unfiltered by the tainted stigma
of conformity, seeking an answer to questions she wouldn’t allow herself to
ask. He was waiting for her to find him somewhere in the darkness, somewhere
beyond her limited reach.

Somewhere beyond the blowjob hole,
perhaps?

Yea, somewhere beyond
the blowjob hole, he was waiting for her to find him, somewhere beyond the
blowjob hole. The mask was paramount in her search; she knew that, but she
still struggled to cross that line. There would be no turning back once she
made that choice, no ‘forgive me father, for I have sinned.’ Her options would
be infinitely finite after that, with only one path to travel, the one to
truth.

Still, the baths helped
ease her pain to some degree, the darkness around her, calling her closer to
that day, but she knew it was mere psychological masturbation at best. She
longed for much more, to open her mouth to a perfect dick of her own darkness
and thankfully swallow all it offered.

Her mouth unseen under
the towel, was opened wide, the mouth of a flightless chick, waiting for the
nourishment it needed. She inserted the dildo into her cunt; the water in the
bath counteracting her body’s lubricating juices, making the entry require more
force than it should have needed. But she didn’t mind the initial discomfort;
the feel of the stiffness inside her diminished it immediately, leaving it a
distant memory, never to be retrieved.

She sucked the towel
into her eager mouth, the water it held separating and finding its way to the
back of her throat before sliding down. Both hands released their grip on the
purple rod now jammed fully inside her, and made their way up her body,
fingernails dragging against the wet skin of her stomach, her chest, leaving
red lines in their wake as the skin gave way to whiter skin beneath, and then
reddened by the pre-blood beneath. She arched her back in an effort to pull the
purple dick deeper inside her as her hands found their way to her neck. Her
ankles crossed involuntarily, pressing her thighs against the plastic, holding
it in place as the muscles in her pussy tightened their grip, intending to
shatter her manmade lover if possible. Her fingers found the back of her neck
as her thumbs crossed each other just above her voice box. As the air was
involuntarily cut off from her lungs, she felt the surges flowing through her
body, a rolling, boiling torrent of uncontrollable pleasure. The race between
her desire to reach the summit of pleasure and her body’s need to breathe was
coming down to the wire, and as the darkness of unconsciousness visibly wrapped
itself around her, smiling and gnashing its beautiful teeth, she felt the final
bite of an orgasmic eruption throughout her existence. Life and death became
one in that moment, as body and spirit intertwined, and the last ounce of
restraint was sacrificed on the altar at the very core of her existence. The
devil danced at the gates of heaven as angels swam naked in the fires of hell.
It was at this perfect moment where thought failed her completely that she was
able to think more purely than she had dared to dream. And the one thought
which came to her mind, was one of a black mask…with a blowjob hole in it.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

“You need a lift?”

Lana hadn’t heard the
car coming up behind her, and when he spoke, it caused her to jump slightly,
almost stepping off the curb. It was Tink. He had come up behind her in his car
while she was walking. She wasn’t sure if he had known who she was before she
had turned around or not, but she got the impression he had. After all, he
hadn’t looked surprised when she had turned.