Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) (19 page)

After a few minutes of consideration, he gave in and told the other two,
to leave the room.

“Thank you,” I said, pouring as much forged gratitude into my voice as
possible. “You're a very kind man.”
Yeah,
right. If you believe that, you really are as stupid as you are fat
,
I
thought to myself. Still hoping on the slightest chance that he would have a
weak spot and see that what he was doing was wrong, knowing that if I believed
that, I was as stupid as the man who was about to do unthinkable things to me.

As he was looking down to open the box, I carefully tested the ropes
holding my limbs, pulling first with my arms, then my legs. The ropes were
tight, but I was sure I felt my left leg give, even if it was just a little.
The door closed behind the men and the little box fell open, and he peered into
it with gleaming excitement. As he started moving things around inside with one
hand, the other started to caress my leg. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply
through his nose as soon as his hand reached the top of my knee and started
sliding toward my thigh.

“I see you used the bath items I sent you,” he said gladly, his hand
inching closer to my privates.

“Yes,” I said hastily. “That was very nice of you.”

My mind was spinning in ten different directions. I kept tugging on the
ropes, hoping that they would fail. Mr. Huerta leaned back a little, still
touching my leg, and stared down at me. He shook his head disapprovingly, and
said, “This gown just will not do.”

He removed his hand from my leg and reached into the box. He pulled out
a large pair of scissors, and began cutting my gown up the middle, starting at
the bottom. The closer he got to my most private area, the more nervous and
scared I became.

“Wait,” I said, trying my best to scoot up on the bed, away from the
quickly progressing scissors. “Can’t we just talk? You know, get to know each
other a little, first?”

He kept cutting, and said without looking up, “I didn’t pay the
outrageous amount of money they charged to just talk. Surely you knew this is
what I wanted.” As he cut the gown far enough up to expose me, I began to cry. He
paid no mind, humming to the music as he stood up and walked around the bed to
my side. From there, he finished cutting open my gown, a job his large paunch
wouldn’t let him finish from the end of the bed.

“Ah,” he sighed, as he spread apart the ruined garment to expose my
entire front side. “That’s much better.”

This was the worst thing I had been put through yet. The pain had been
unbearable, but never once had a man laid eyes on—much less touched—my nude
body, and the advantage this man was taking of me was unfathomable. I began to
panic as he stroked my bare breast. My breathing was becoming erratic, and I
began turning my head side to side, praying for a way out of this.

“Ooh,” he cooed down at me, interpreting my movement as pleasure. “Like
that, do we?” He rubbed his hand down to my belly, gave it a little pat and
said, “Well, shall we get started, my little pet?”

“Please, don’t do this,” I cried out, lifting my head
off of
the bed toward him. “I'm begging you, please?”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured me. “I will be as gentle as
possible. You have a very beautiful body, and I can make you feel as good as
you look.”

I started tugging on the ropes as hard as I could, my wrists and ankles
burning from the friction.

“Now, if you fight, I can also make this the worst pain your little
mind can imagine, love,” he said.

He walked back to the end of the bed and started taking objects out of
the box, laying them on the bed between my legs. Most of them were metal and
phallic, while others looked like medieval torture devices. It didn’t take much
imagination to figure out what he planned to do with them. When he was
finished, he crawled up onto the end of the bed with one of the long oval
objects in his hand, and after settling himself, began to rub my inner thigh
with his free hand. He moaned softly as he approached my most private area,
clearly enjoying himself.

“NO,” I screamed, yanking both legs up as hard as possible. He didn’t
even seem to notice as the rope holding my left leg snapped.

I was crying
so
hard as he tried to put his
fingers inside me, that I could hardly see past the tears.
 
I could tell from his perseverance that he
was oblivious to the broken ligature. I screamed again, and before he could
succeed, pulled my leg up past his head, and kicked the fat perverted bastard
backwards. It wasn’t enough to knock him down, but he stopped dead in his
tracks, looking at me with a disbelief written across his round face. His hands
flew to his face as I struck a second time, not giving him a chance to call out
for help. He was nowhere near fast enough to block my kick, and my foot landed
right across the bridge of his nose. His head jerked back, and blood gushed. He
held his face, still too much in shock to retaliate. When I made the third
contact, missing his face altogether, but hitting his throat so hard he began
to choke and gasp for air.

I continued to flail, yanking continually, feeling the ropes that were
binding my hands give more than I could have hoped for, because my hands were
almost free. I yanked downward with all my might, and my right hand came loose.
Frantically, I clawed at my remaining trapped hand, desperately trying to free
it, before the man lying across the leg that was still tied regained
consciousness. His weight was making the pressure on my ankle feel like I was
going to lose my foot, but I knew I had to hurry before he was able to roll his
round self, off the bed, and call out for his two monstrous guards.

Many of my unfocused kicks were still making contact, as he started
groaning, trying to call to his men. I quickly reached down and grabbed one of
the oblong metal objects that he had placed on the bed and hit him in the head,
over and over, until he fell over unconscious, pinning my right leg even more
firmly underneath his heavy body.

I went back to my hand, pulling and struggling until it finally came
free. When I was done, my wrist was a bloody, throbbing mess, but that was
nothing compared to the nightmare I would have undergone had I remained
restrained. My modesty still in check, I pulled the gown together as best I
could as I sat up. I tried to pull on my leg that was underneath the enormous
man, but it wouldn’t budge, even when I pushed with my free leg. I hadn’t
gotten this far just to be trapped now by some demented pervert’s unlucky
landing. I thought back to the events that had just happened, and the flood of
emotions the fear, the hate, the humility. It provided me with enough strength
for one final shove, flopping Mr. Huerta’s limp body off my leg and onto the
mattress.

Without delay, I untied my last trapped limb and stood. I looked
frantically around the room, not sure what I should do next. One thing for
certain, I wanted to make sure this sick son-of-a-bitch never touched me, or
any other woman, ever again. My eyes came to rest on his wooden
toy
box. I picked it up, raising it as
high above my head as my arms would reach.

“You never touch a lady there, you bastard,” I spit in his face, before
slamming the heavy box into his skull.

I smashed the box into his head,
again and again
,
releasing my rage, and doing my best to kill him, and not stopping in my efforts
until I saw blood pour from his face.
Now’s
your chance
,
I thought to
myself
.
Whatever you’re going to do,
you better
do it quick before anyone comes
. From the look of the damage I had done to
the pervert, I wasn’t sure he would be waking up at all, hoping he never would.

I put down the box, and walked over to the door, pressing my ear to it.
Not hearing a sound, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened the door, slow
and steady. I carefully darted my head out, looked down each side of the hall,
and saw nothing.
No guards, maids, or even slaves for that
matter, just an open, empty hallway.
I knew I wasn’t far from the front
door, the gateway to my freedom. Taking one last glance down each side, I took
off running, full-blast in the direction we had come. Within seconds I was at
the staircase, and even quicker I was down them. I spotted the door, and flew
to it. Still no one in sight, I flung it open and made my escape.

Chapter 15

My feet had barely left the threshold when I was tackled to the ground.
When I turned my head enough to see, it was the two goons that had been with
Mr. Huerta that stood over me. They yanked me to my feet, all the while I was
unsuccessfully trying to keep myself covered.

“Let me go, damn you,” I cried. Forgoing my modesty, I struggled to
pull away. “Please, don’t take me back there, I would rather you just kill me
now.” They kept walking, acting as if they couldn’t hear a word I said. “Please.
Would you let this happen to your family? Your sister? Your mother?” I pleaded,
but to no avail.

They just kept dragging me back into the house, never giving me an
inkling that they heard, nor cared about what I was saying. I sobbed, harder
than ever, at the thought of returning to this hell after even one moment of
fresh air and stars over my head. I had been violated, that which I had for so
long kept sacred, defiled. The horror of going through that again made me pray
for death. I wasn’t even so much as through the door when I saw Annabel
approaching, with that beast Enrique by her side. She was teeming with anger,
and I was thinking by the look on her face, that I may have my prayers answered
very soon.

“You almost killed Senor Huerta,” she fumed.

“He tried to...” As the words left my mouth, I saw theirs spread into
satisfied grins. “You knew what he was going to do…You planned this? You’re all
sick,” I screamed.

Enrique stepped forward, between Annabel and me, and leaned close to my
face with his.

“I’m sure I am going to enjoy this more than you will,” he whispered. All
I remember after that was the sight of his closed fist hurling towards my face.

*****

When I came to, I knew exactly where I was, the torture room. I was
thankful not to be back in the room with that fat sick-o, but in the same
breath, I knew all hell was about to break loose. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing
Annabel could do to me would be as bad as what almost happened in that room
upstairs.

For the second time tonight, I was strapped down. I couldn’t raise my
head far enough up to see, but I could feel that at least I was covered.
Thank God for that
,
I thought to myself. It wasn’t long before Annabel walked
in. At first she said nothing, her mouth twisted into a furious frown. After
pacing the length of the room a couple of times, she walked over to my side and
glared down at me.

“Did you honestly think you could escape? You have done nothing but
anger the Mistress,” she said with a scowl. Then she added, “You have
embarrassed us all, and that is what she hates the most.” I started to speak,
but Annabel clamped her hand over my mouth. “If it were up to me, your
punishment would already be underway, but the Mistress wishes to have a word
with you first.”
I have a few choice
words for her myself
,
I
thought.

Annabel went on to tell me about some of the punishments that had been
laid down upon other escapees. “One man tried to be brave like you, even made
it a few miles before he was caught. He lost a foot for his troubles. Another
attempted to escape, but he never made it past the front door. I broke every
bone in both of his feet, one by one, and I must add that I enjoyed every
minute of it,” she smirked. She got quiet for a second, clicking her
fingernails together, then cut her eyes up at me, and said, “But your
punishment will be up to the Mistress.”

She took a few steps away from me, then turned around and came over to
my side. She bent down so that her eyes were directly in front of mine, and
said, “Oh, but don’t worry your little head. I
know for a
fact
we won’t be removing one of your feet. You are worth far too much
to us whole. Once we break you, that is.” She stood up straight, grabbed me by
the chin and gave it a little shake. “No one wants an insubordinate slave, now
do they?” she asked, in a voice one would use when patronizing a child.

I turned my eyes as best I could. I didn’t want her to see the fear
that was building. My mind kept seeing the footless man that hung decaying
across from my cage, the way his legs were twisted so badly out of shape. I
didn’t want to do as they said, but I also didn’t want to end up like that poor
soul.

“You just lie there quietly and think about what I’ve said. I will
return with the Mistress soon enough,” Annabel declared, then turned and left
the room.

I tested my restraints as soon as she was gone, but there was no way I
was getting out of it this time, nothing budged. When I pulled, I could barely
move my fingers, much less anything else. I couldn’t stop my mind from fixating
on what was going to happen and the fear grew larger with every thought. I
could tell my face was damaged for what seemed like the hundredth time since
this all began. Enrique must have hit me harder than ever. I could tell by the
throbbing pain I felt across my face that he didn’t hold anything back. My
thoughts were cut short by the entrance of Yvette, Annabel, and Enrique.