SNATCH: A Dark Erotica (7 page)

He sat down in his chair. “I actually prefer not to use the handcuffs to be quite honest. I just feel I need to use
something
. You know, to deter any kind of bad decisions on your part. And I’m not implying you would attempt anything, it’s just best for both of us. Well, you understand, don’t you?”

She attempted to rub the pain from her wrists. “Yes I do.”

“And, I don’t want you to think for one minute that this entire thing has been about teaching you a lesson about internet dating sites. It’s much deeper than that. I wouldn’t gather up four identical women and mentally torture them to teach them a lesson about safe dating. I’m not
completely
mad. To me, it’s well…”

He coughed a laugh, covered his mouth with his hand, and continued. “It’s about money. It’s about success. Ultimately, I had to find four particular women. To find you in the typical public setting would have taken a lifetime. It may not even be something I could have done in
two
lifetimes. I don’t know, Dana. But I know this; having that dating website with the profiles and photographs – that saved tremendous trouble, and has made this venture very profitable.”

Her face washed with wonder. “So, someone is paying you to do this?”

“Oh no, quite the contrary. I devised the plan. The game. The entire thing. I developed it myself.” Feeling prideful from his accomplishments, Ryan rubbed his hands together and paused from speaking.

“Game? This is a
game
?” Dana asked.

“Well, it’s difficult to explain. Yes, a game of
sorts
. I maintain an interest in psychology, and the human mind in general. Sexually speaking, the wilder the desire, the more thought-provoking I find it. Not necessarily for me, so to speak - just stimulating
in general
. The gentlemen that spend time in the BDSM lifestyle range from interesting to downright scary. While reading profiles and postings on Fetlife’s website - for entertainment purposed only, I might add - I encountered multiple wealthy Japanese business men that possessed certain kinks. One thing led to another, and I developed this
game
. It’s similar to betting on a horse race.” Proudly, Ryan pointed toward the camera. “See, the camera for instance. It’s recording data that is being fed to a hosting site that provides live private streaming to the partners who have invested in the game. We have all placed multiple wagers regarding who would be first to volunteer, and which option, ultimately, the person would choose. You could have chosen death, disfigurement, or any other number of options. Had you picked death, I would have given you other options – including the manner in which you chose to die. All of these potential options have odds placed on them.”

“The house, that’s
me
.” He motioned to himself. “Covers the odds.”

Dana covered her mouth with her hand, feeling ill from her understanding of what was happening. A game with four the women - and lives being forfeited for money made her ill. For some reason, a random act of violence was far more acceptable. She thanked God for the ability to choose life, and hoped Ryan was a man of his word. She prayed for the strength to be able to endure the pain associated with the torture that Ryan was preparing to expose her to.

“Dana?” Ryan snapped his finger loudly. “Did I lose you?”

“No, I am listening,” she murmured.

He waved toward the pile of money. “You appeared to have faded away. I thought maybe the injury to your face. Well, never mind. As long as you’re paying attention, that’s all that matters. Now, one last time, are you certain you choose disfigurement over death?”

She wondered for a split second where precisely Ryan had bet his money. Giving her the options again, she assumed his money was bet on her death. She found a small amount of comfort in thinking that she may be causing him to lose money in his sickening wager.

She stared down at the scalpel. “Yes, I am certain.”

He stood and smiled a soft smile. “Very well,”

Ryan reached into his right pocket of his slacks and removed a pair of rubber gloves. As he pulled them onto his hands, he tightened his jaw and clenched his teeth. Memories of his father began to fill his head. He looked up from his hands, and focused on the pile of money. As he walked around the table, he picked up one of the towels from the stack.

He walked around the table and stood beside Dana’s chair.

He handed the small folded towel to Dana. “Here, you’ll want to bite on this. It’ll prevent you from screaming, and provide some assurance you will not bite your tongue.”

She accepted the towel and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She prayed again for God to give her strength. As Ryan began to speak, she closed her eyes and said a prayer asking God’s forgiveness for what Ryan prepared to do to her. She opened her eyes and looked up at Ryan.

“I’m ready,” she said as she placed the towel in her mouth and bit down on it.

“Well, we both know I could make this as torturous or as simple as possible. You’ve proven to be an extremely strong woman. This part isn’t really for any reason, it’s just. Oh, well, it’s just that I have to do
something
,” Ryan stated as he leaned over and picked up the scalpel.

“Place your left hand on the towel in front of you and fan out your fingers. Pick up the other towel in your right hand and hold it,” Ryan inhaled a slow breath, looked up at the light fixture and exhaled.

As Ryan looked back down toward Dana’s hand he began to speak.

“I’m going to cut off the very tip, just a small amount, mind you – of your left index finger. I’ll have you know, it really won’t hurt much at all. I won’t remove much, and I’ll make it as quick as possible. As soon as I do, cover it with the towel. I’ll prepare a bandage when we’re done. If you’re prepared, blink your eyes twice,” Ryan said as he turned and looked down at her face.

She blinked twice and bit the towel.

With his left hand, he pressed down on Dana’s hand, holding it tight to the towel on the table. With the scalpel in his right hand he carefully positioned it over her finger and placed slight pressure against her finger with the rear portion of the blade. After taking a slight breath, he paused, and pressed the blade down and pulled the scalpel back, dragging the surgical blade across the flesh of her finger. As the scalpel moved, the blade sliced through her flesh with minimal effort.

Ryan’s eyes widened as the blade of the scalpel cut through the fleshy tip of Dana’s finger. Although his hands remained steady for the procedure, his stomach began to flutter. With a hint of surprise in his mind, he fought the jittery feeling and pressed the blade through her finger and into the towel.

As Dana bit against the towel she focused on the wall in front of her, and did not watch the scalpel, Ryan, or see the blood. As the blade slid across her finger, it sliced a quarter inch of the tip of her finger off, leaving a square bloody fingertip exposed. Dana continued looked straight ahead, not even realizing that the procedure was complete.

Ryan reached across the table for the alcohol. “See? It wasn’t that bad at all.”

Dana looked down as her finger began to bleed; now realizing that Ryan had completed his sickening but simple task. With her right hand she covered the tip of her finger with the small towel, stopping the bleeding. Quickly, she uncovered it, looked down at the severed tip, and then covered it again.

“Towel. Please move the towel,” Ryan requested quietly.

As Dana complied, Ryan wiped the tip of her finger with alcohol, and covered it with an alcohol soaked bandage. As he did, Dana stared straight blankly at the wall.

Ryan wrapped the soaked bandage with another dry one. “I’m certain that
this
hurts more than actually being cut.

Using the medical tape, he secured the dry bandage to the tip of her finger. When finished, he lifted her hand and admired at his handi-work.

“Well, that looks like it was prepared at a professional establishment, doesn’t it?” Ryan asked.

Dana lifted her right hand to her mouth and removed the towel. As she placed the towel on the table, she looked at her left index finger. Uncertain if it was from adrenaline, God’s provision of strength, or that there were very little nerve endings in her fingertip, she felt satisfied that there was really no pain associated with what had just happened. As Ryan carried the scalpel to the other side of the table, she closed her eyes and thanked God.

She watched as Ryan sat down, methodically cleaned the scalpel with alcohol, and placed it back onto a clean towel. As he sat down, she wondered if the other women would be given the same options, and if so, the procedure would be the same. As Ryan removed the gloves from his hands, she glanced at his face.

“Well. I have some paperwork for you to sign. We didn’t go into detail, but I have some documents for you to sign, stating that you subjected yourself to a psychological experiment from the date you arrived until today. I am a Doctor of Psychology, and you’ll sign something stating that you volunteered for an experiment which may include certain deprivations of the mind. It will, of course, be backdated to the day you
disappeared
. Additionally, and as discussed, I will pay you for your time.” Ryan reached for the stack of money, and pulled a pile toward where he was seated. “Here is one hundred thousand dollars. Take
that
,” Ryan paused and slid the money across the table toward Dana, “Compared to the amount of money I made today, it’s nothing. Chump change. Also, it may help you with what you need regarding your cancer.”

“You
know
about the cancer?” Dana asked softly as she looked up at Ryan.

“Oh absolutely. I know
everything
.” Ryan chuckled. “Now, if you’ll stand up and follow me upstairs, we can get you cleaned up and taken back to the city. Wave for the camera.”

Ryan pressed the button on the remote control. As he turned the camera off, Dana wondered if he had any additional
off camera
plans. She tried to digest leaving, going home, and being free, but she wondered if this was
truly over. As Ryan stood and began walking to the door, she felt a little more at ease.

Standing in the doorway, Ryan turned to face her. “Leave the tip of the finger, Dana. You don’t get to take it with you. Come on now, grab your money and follow me.”

Puzzled, Dana picked up the stack of money and turned toward the door. As Ryan walked through the door and into the main body of the basement, she felt a little more at ease with the situation. With each step, she began to feel less likely that something else was going to happen. Maybe, she began to think, Ryan
was
a man of his word.

With each step of the stairs, Dana felt a little less apprehensive about following Ryan. His demeanor, his attentive nature, and his personality in general had become light and more human as each second passed. As they walked into the house, Dana was amazed at the cleanliness and organization of the home and its décor.

Clutching the money, Dana followed Ryan as they walked through the home. The home was magnificent, and every available space was covered with a piece of art, a sculpture, or some form of decorative furniture. As she followed Ryan through the home, she admired each form of art she passed.

“In anticipation of your choice of disfigurement, I had your vehicle cleaned and filled with fuel. It did not have a navigation system in it, so I purchased a small Garmin system and temporarily installed it on the dash. It should allow you to get home without much trouble what so ever,” Ryan said.

Dana followed him into the kitchen.

“My car is
here
?” Dana asked, puzzled.

Ryan clapped his hands together lightly as he sat down at the kitchen table. “Oh yes, I brought all of your vehicles here as soon as I was able. Now, let us get this paperwork signed and we’ll go over the rules of release, shall we?”

Ryan tapped the chair beside him lightly with his hand. “Sit, please.”

As Dana sat, she became more comfortable that she was, in fact, going to be home soon. She placed the money on the table and slid it to her left side, away from where Ryan was sitting. As he began to speak, she thought of the women in the basement, what grief they were going through, and what more they would be subject to.

As Ryan spoke, Dana closed her eyes and listened.

And she prayed.

CHAPTER NINE

THOUGHTS OF DYING.

NINE.
Elena stood over Meghan, who was seated beside Shellie on the bench.

“So, what the fuck are we gonna do little miss know it all?” Elena asked.

Meghan had spent the majority of the previous night comforting and preparing Dana for her
departure
. Describing it as a departure made it more reasonable, more realistic, and less permanent than calling it anything else. Meghan now dressed in sweats and a tank top like the other women, sat with Shellie, hoping that nothing bad had actually happened
to Dana.
Although she had no basis for this belief, her considering it made everything Ryan was doing seem plausible.

“I don’t fucking know. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t think he’d take Dana. I felt like it would never come down to that. I don’t know.
I just don’t fucking know
,” Meghan complained.

Elena sat down on the bench beside Shellie and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. “Well, if we don’t have a plan, this is gonna get really shitty really quick.”

Meghan stood from the bench and placed her hands on her hips. “Like it’s not
already
shitty.”

Shellie rotated her hand and looked at what little was left of her fingernails. “Dana’s gone. It’s bad already.”

Elena stood from the bench and faced Meghan. “This crazy fuck. We have to try to kill him when he comes back. We
have
to. We don’t have an option.”

“How?” Meghan asked.

“Well, fuck. I don’t know. Let’s talk about it,” Elena said. “When he had me in the basement talking to me, he had a Taser. He didn’t have a gun. He had it and handcuffs. He’s strong, but he can’t overpower three of us.”

Elena motioned toward Shellie who continued to nibble at her fingernails as the two women spoke. “Well, two. Two of us. She ain’t got much to offer.”

Meghan’s eyes shifted toward the door. “Ok, so when he opens the door, what do we do?”

“The door pushes
into
the room. There’s a handle outside, in the basement, not an inside handle. We can’t grab it and pull it. We have to just try to overpower him, or we all rush the door? What are you thinking?” Meghan asked.

“Well, when he opens it, when we hear it click, two of us could be right there, and be ready for his ass. And just take off running. Fuck I don’t know,” Elena said.

“If we do that, what could go wrong?” Meghan asked.

No one responded.

“I guess, if he pulls it open and sees us - he just pulls it shut and leaves us here forever to die. That’s what his crazy ass would do. So, we have to be on the side of the door that he can’t see,” Meghan reasoned.

Elena appearing frustrated, walked over to the far side of the room and stared at the door. As she crossed her arms and stared, she shook her head. “That doesn’t do us any good. Because then we gotta get to the opening, and he’ll just see us whenever we try and move over there.”

For Elena to allow herself to be taken into the other room, tortured, killed or even released, was going to be a chore for anyone, and Meghan could see and sense it. Elena had become far more tense since Dana had left, and she was outwardly showing it. When the time came for Ryan to come and take Elena from the room, he was certainly going to have his hands full. As Elena started cussing in Spanish and staring at the door, Meghan began to wonder what problems Elena’s demeanor could cause if she irritated Ryan.

Meghan believed that she had heard a car leave the garage thirty minutes after Ryan had taken Dana out of the room. That would be roughly the amount of time it would have taken Ryan to kill Dana, prepare the body for transportation, load it, and leave the premises from what Meghan could figure. The other women complained at Meghan’s request for confirmation of what she had heard, claiming that they heard nothing.

Meghan pointed to the benches beside her, behind where the door swung when opened. “What if
this.
What if, when he takes Shellie to the door, we’re back here.”

All eyes were on her.

She walked in the direction that she was pointing. “Where we were before, when he got Dana?”

“We haven’t decided if
I
was next,” Shellie said softly without looking up from her fingernail gnawing.

“Well, when he comes to the door, he will ask her to turn around. She’s slow at everything she does, and she can turn
really
slow, taking a little extra time. He’ll become frustrated at her, but not at us. As he waits for her, we rush the door, and yank it open. Whoever gets to the door, the other one will, with Shellie’s help, overpower Ryan. How’s that sound?” Meghan asked as she faced Elena, who still stood along the far wall.

Elena shook her head. “It sounds like we’re trying to plan putting up a volley ball net for a fucking beer party. What if this thing goes to shit? We’re fucked.
El Mero Chingon
comes in, and we’re just fucked.”

“You know. We can do all this planning we want, and this fuckers gonna make it impossible to do it just by one little change in how he opens the door or how he does something. Then, we’re sitting here stupid. And dead. Fuck this
puto.
I want to choke him or dig his eyes out when I’m in the other room. When he takes me to kill me, I’m gonna head butt that fucking
pendejo.
Maybe, when he takes me, I’ll kick him in his fucking
cajones.”
Elena said.

Meghan, began walking through the room and attempting to devise a plan of escape. She considered seducing Ryan if the opportunity presented itself. She was convinced from the moment she sat in the trunk and made eye contact with him that he was attracted to her. Her discussions with the other women, although she had not outwardly spoken of her thoughts and feelings, had invited the other women to discuss their feelings. She had no information volunteered to lead her to believe that any of the other women had either an opportunity or an indication that Ryan was in the least bit attracted to them.

Meghan stood between the entrance door and where Elena was standing as she thought of Ryan. “Let me just think for a while.”

Generally speaking, Meghan believed she was a very good judge of a person, their thoughts, and what they were feeling. Ryan may be psychotic, or he may simply be very calculating, planning, and compulsive. She wasn’t able to know for sure. She believed, based on what she knew about people in general, that he was attracted to her. Ultimately, would that mean that she could convince him to act on his feelings? She couldn’t decide. She did know if she didn’t try, she’d never accomplish it. Exhausted from lack of sleep, she leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and thought of Ryan and his very handsome appearance when he opened the trunk of the car. As her eyes closed, and she began to relax, she slumped to the floor.

As Ryan opened the trunk lid, Meghan sat up in the large open trunk. Sore from the trip, she shrugged her shoulders and looked up into his steel blue eyes. Ryan looked down and smiled a slow smile. Meghan was surprised by his masculine features and soft boyish skin. His average height was overshadowed by his strong muscular appearance. Even though he wore slacks and a dress shirt, his muscular build was apparent through his shirt as it clung to his pectoral muscles.

Meghan wanted him to remove the tape from her mouth. As he reached into the trunk, she itched for his touch.

“I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth. Do you hear me you cute little bitch?” Ryan asked.

Uncomfortably aroused, she knew nothing more than to nod her head. She was already wet from her thoughts as they had driven, and now – looking at Ryan made it much worse. As she shifted the weight on her hips in the trunk, she felt the depth of her wetness between her legs. Embarrassed, she looked down and then immediately back up at Ryan.

She nodded.

He pulled the tape from her mouth quickly. Eagerly, she began to speak.

“What are you going to do to me?” Meghan cooed.

“My name’s Ryan Capshaw, and I’ll do whatever I fucking want, Meghan. You know why?” Ryan asked as he rubbed the palms of his hands up and down the length of his thighs.

“No?” she breathed, wondering how he knew her name.

“Because you’re mine. I own your little ass from here on out. I took you from your meaningless life, and now you belong to me,” Ryan bragged.

“Sit up straight,” he demanded.

She sat up straight in the trunk, pushing her chest toward him as he spoke. He appeared to notice her efforts, and glanced in the direction of her breasts as they heaved forward. As he focused on her chest, she raised her cuffed hands behind her back, straining her shoulders, and forcing her breasts even further toward him.

He leaned forward and peered down at her. “Your boobs are bigger than the other girls.”

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke. She wasn’t familiar of the scent that he wore, but she knew from this day forward, she would never forget it. He placed his right hand on her neck and squeezed lightly.

“I’m going to lift you out of this trunk, Meghan. I’m not going to have any trouble from you, am I?” he asked as he squeezed her neck with a little more force.

Her mouth opened, and an almost inaudible ‘no’ escaped as Ryan leaned forward, his waist now within inches of her face.

She felt his free hand reach to her breast. Naturally, she pulled away from his grasp.

“What the fuck are you doing, Meghan? Don’t resist me. Do not ever resist me, do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He squeezed her breast through her shirt.

Meghan felt herself become even more aroused as Ryan fondled her breasts. He reached down with his right hand and lifted the front of her shirt, exposing her bra. As he tried to lift if further, he became frustrated that her handcuffs prevented the removal of the shirt from her torso. Aggravated, he growled under his breath and removed a knife from the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t move. I don’t want to cut you. At least not yet,” he said as he used the knife to slice the shirt that he had bunched into his grasp.

As he tossed the shirt in the trunk, he folded the knife and placed it back into his slacks pocket. His right hand now reached back to her throat, squeezing it firmly as he pulled her bra up, exposing her breasts.

He unbuckled his belt and removed his slacks. “Hold still, Meghan.”

As his slacks fell to the floor of the garage, he removed his shoes and kicked his slacks a few feet beside where he stood. Now standing before her in stark white boxer briefs, the muscles in his legs flared as he repositioned where he stood. The bulge in his briefs provided reassurance that he was very well endowed.

Sitting upright in the trunk of the car, her shirt cut in two and on the floor of the trunk, Meghan yearned for Ryan to touch her. Five years without a husband, mate, or any form of sexual contact had left Meghan with a burning desire for what she believed that Ryan offered her. As Ryan pressed his briefs with his thumbs, pushing them past his now hard cock, she shifted in the trunk and leaned forward in anticipation.

“Open your mouth,” Ryan demanded. 

He dropped his briefs in the pile of clothes beside the car. Without hesitation, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, waiting for his cock to be forced deep into her mouth.

“Open, Meghan. Your eyes will be open,” Ryan demanded.

She opened her eyes and mouth at the same time. “Yes, Sir.”

Her hands cuffed behind her back and helpless, Meghan leaned forward with an open mouth. Ryan stood before her, naked from the waist down, stroking his cock slowly. As the anticipation mounted, she watched him stroke himself to a full erection. As he leaned toward the edge of the trunk, she moved closer, hoping to feel his cock throbbing in her mouth. His hands reached for her breasts, pushed up by the bra beneath them, and began to squeeze.

As he squeezed her breasts in his strong hands, the tip of his cock was within a fraction of an inch of her lips. He leaned back and began to moan. As his moans became louder and more pronounced she licked her lips and leaned toward his cock, taking the thick shaft into her wet mouth.

“That’s a good little bitch. Now suck that cock like you’ll be killed if you don’t,” Ryan demanded.

She pressed her tongue against the bottom of the shaft. With her hands still cuffed behind her back, and slid her mouth up and down the shaft of his swollen cock, feeling the tip against her throat as she tried to force more and more of it into her mouth. Ultimately, she wanted him to be pleased with her performance, and tell her so.

If he chose not to speak, so be it.

As she sucked his cock, he moaned repeatedly as he arched his back, forcing even more of himself into her mouth. Circling the head with her tongue, he growled lightly under his breath as he squeezed her breasts harder. She wanted him to cum - cum in her mouth, all over her tits, or even on her face, she thought. If he would cover her in his cum, there was no doubt he would certainly be pleased with her performance.

She began to moan as she sucked faster and faster, trying desperately to please him. She began to groan as she sucked, the sounds of their moans echoing through the garage. As he moaned, he pulled his hands from her breasts and pulled his hard cock from her mouth. As she looked up into his eyes in disbelief, he forced his cock between her breasts and squeezed them together.