Authors: Casey Moss
Chapter
Nine
Something’s not right
.
Hope continued to scrub the kitchen sink, hoping the mundane task
would help to clear her mind so she could think about her situation. She looked
at the glass on the counter. Since she had started drinking water that morning
in place of the cider Buzz left for her, it was as if she were waking from a
deep sleep. But she hadn’t been sleeping. She was quite aware of what went on
the past week during her
honeymoon
with him.
She
picked up her water glass with a shaky hand and looked out into the screened in
porch area. Two chains with leather wrist cuffs on the ends hung from the
ceiling. Two leather ankle shackles were affixed to the ground. The first night
in the house, after he had finished his portion of the meal and had her remove
the rest of her clothes, he’d directed her to the back porch and introduced her
to his form of
punishment
.
In her heady, inebriated state she had complied and
followed him like a puppy dog happy for attention.
The
first few hours of the first night in her new home she’d spent chained like an
animal, in an exposed-to-the-world X shape, out there
.
If a wanderer had walked through the wasteland and had good eyesight, they’d
have seen her breasts and crotch in all their glory. That thought had been hard
to handle, and she had dizzily fought against the restraints.
Buzz’s
low voice had whirred into her misty mind telling her it was not his intent to
abuse her. “I respect you, love, but if you go against my wishes and what I
know is best for you, you will be out here suffering deeper chastisements. In
the meantime, when we’re inside and I’m teaching you to submit to my will, I
want you to discover yourself, to experience heightened aspects of sensuality,
to want me with all your heart, your body, your soul. You will become my
willing and submissive
consort, the path to my
redemption.”
As he spoke, his hands had lightly traced over her whole form. The
feather light sensations irritated yet tantalized her nerve endings,
intensifying her lightheadedness. He had made those vibrations worse when he
opened the windows and let the cool night breeze blow across her body. The
air’s caress had aroused her and she had found herself wanting
Alden’s
hands and mouth to be all over her, not the nippy draft.
After
he had taken her down, he had made her please him with her mouth. And once
again, he hadn’t gratified her. In fact he didn’t bring her any type of
satisfaction that evening or the foll
owing nights.
The ass
.
Hope dumped out the water. From the fridge
,
she
pulled out the cider and poured herself a healthy dose, telling herself she
needed a boost. She shot down the contents and squirmed at the heavy sweetness
and underlying sour taste. Flavor aside, a sense of well-being returned.
In her still pure and virginal state, she went for a stroll around
the house, noting to herself how she had cleaned every nook and cranny in her
sexual dissatisfaction and wondered where the items were Buzz said he’d bring
her. At the door to his office
,
she hesitated. He had told her she was never to go in his
room
,
but she wanted to check it out.
She jiggled the doorknob, frustrated but relieved it was locked.
Last thing she needed was for him to realize she had broken one of his
laws
.
She’d be out on the porch with
all
the items he had
introduced her to over the week. The blindfold would go on. A tail would be
shoved up her bum. Clothes pins would be fastened to her nipples faster than
she could blink. Knowing him, that wouldn’t be all. He’d figure out some new
way to torture her.
A few hours late
r,
he arriv
ed bearing the gifts she’d wondered about.
She sat on the living room floor, riffling through the huge bag he’d handed to
her. From it she pulled a couple of books on relationships. Hope frowned at the
covers. Blurbs explained the books’ contents—how to please a man the way he
wants to be pleased; how to ignite his passion. There were a few DVD’s with
scantily clad couples on the covers. When she quirked an eyebrow, he told her
he picked up a small computer which was still out in the car. She went back to
perusing the items in the bag and found some romance novels, a skein of yarn, a
package of crochet hooks and a book on how to make
afghans
.
“I thought you might be interested in a hobby.” Buzz pointed at th
e yarn, whi
ch she put on the floor next to her. “The other items are
to help you become the proper, submissive wife.”
“Speaking of being
the proper wife.
When are you going to give me some satisfaction as a husband
should? Or do you have a problem in that department and can only get off on
torturing helpless victims? Ones you have to capture and
make
submit to
you?” The words tumbled out of her mouth without thought.
Buzz narrowed his eyes. His nostrils flared. “It’s not time yet
for me to take your innocence,” his strained voice grit out. “And, for your
lack in restraint in speaking to me, you will spend all night on the porch.”
“Yes, my love.” The dismal words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Doing as he’d instructed, she crawled behind him out to the back of the house.
He cranked open the windows. She undressed from the white shirt
and gray skirt uniform, stepped forward and presented her hands in the air to
be secured. Once she was in place, he took the dildo with the long horsehair
attached to it and whipped her with the strands. Her ass cheeks burned and
clenched each time they were marked with the lashes.
“Ah, what a lovely shade of deep pink my dear, like a nice piece
of medium rare steak.” He slapped the area with his hand,
then
prepped the dildo and her anus with lube. Buzz shoved the toy up her ass.
The hairs danced in the breeze coming through the open windows and
tickled her thighs.
Pins were placed on her nipples. She did her best to not react to
the shooting pains zinging through her breasts. A blindfold covered her eyes.
Metal clanking and scraping sounded nearby. He didn’t leave the
area as he normally would? Not liking the change in routine, the fact he stood
somewhere close to her sent her nerves and heart racing. Seconds
later, a
cold structure pressed against her abdomen. She recognized the cool metal to be
the step ladder which usually sat in the corner. The apparatus pushed against
her. When she heard the whiz of his zipper, she opened her mouth and granted
him access. There was no use trying to fight him considering the position she
was in.
He fucked her mouth.
It took all her concentration to continue breathing through her
nose and not gag on his dick. Luckily, she didn’t have to endure his onslaught
for too long. Before she knew it, he pulled out and came on her abdomen. The
clack of the ladder and click of the door let her know he’d left her to hang.
Alone.
Frustrated, she shimmied in her restraints. She needed relief yet
couldn’t bring her legs together or reach down with her hands to get herself
off. Hope believed that was the
worst
part of his punishments—never
being allowed any sexual contentment.
She hung her head and let tears roll down her cheeks.
****
From
what Hope could gather in her haze-belabored mind, a handful of days had passed,
and Buzz had yet to make her a true wife in the biblical sense. Not that
not
being made love to by him troubled her. She continued to count it as a blessing
he hadn’t abused her in that regard. She’d only spoken up a few times more
after the one cold night she’d spent on the porch. Those lapses had occurred
after he had been out for hours upon hours at a time. For those indiscretions,
sometimes he put her on the porch. Sometimes he locked her in the attic.
Strange
enough, she liked the attic punishment. She didn’t enjoy being locked away in a
hot and dusty
room, but at least she was able to
relax without his
gaze
assessing her every
move. Plus, she was able to pleasure herself without getting caught.
Up
in the large garret, she also absorbed the novels Buzz continued to bring home.
Though he called them trashy, she found the works of romance enlightening and
of great reference. The women were strong and independent. The men respected
them for it. The couples, though they had their differences, worked together, loved
and held each other in high esteem. The characters’ lives were nothing like how
the two of them related to each other, and nowhere near how he treated her.
Hope
eyed the jug of cider, which sat near the door as an example of his power over
her, with disdain.
Taking
a pen and book from a hiding spot under a floor board, she flipped through the
pages scanning the notes she’d made to herself in the margins during moments of
clarity.
Men shouldn’t be so domineering. Women are allowed to be the
aggressor, to be pleasured. Love is not being tied up and flogged until you can
no longer sit. Love is not being made to prance around like a horse attached to
a tether and with a bit in your mouth. Love is not being poked and prodded with
an assortment of toys in various body areas.
Love is none of these things if one is not deriving enjoyment out
of the acts
.
To
ward
the end of the book, the pages held instructions to
herself
.
If you get a chance, escape.
Escape is the only way you’ll save yourself. Retain the person you
are. Make it back to Alden a somewhat sane and whole person
.
E
scape.
Escape
.
Footsteps
pounded on the steps outside the room. She hurried to hide the book, putting
the floorboard back in place as a key clicked in the lock.
“My dear, Hope.”
Buzz looked down at the jug,
then her. “I see you haven’t been keeping hydrated.” He shook his head. “We’ll
remedy that before our guests come.”
We
never have company
.
Knowing better than to say anything out loud, she raised an eyebrow in
question.
“Good.
I see you’ve finally learned to keep your mouth closed. I hope you can keep
that up because the guys have been bugging me about having a poker night here
at the house. They’ll be coming over later. I figure I’ll host the party and
get them off my back. So, my dear, what I want you to do tonight is act like a
piece of art work, a figurine. You’ll lounge in the back room on the couch,
naked of course, in a pose of my choosing. You’ll not move or make a sound when
my friends view you.”
“Yes,
my love.”
And while I do that for you
I’ll plot my
escape
.
Chapter
Ten
Her
arm, which Buzz had directed to drape over her head, had fallen asleep. She
wanted to move and stretch like there was no tomorrow, relieve herself of the
painful dead weight, but the voices carrying through the house from the kitchen
had quieted. The men were on another break.
During
the last intermission from the game, no one had come down the hall.
Perhaps
this is another form of his torture
.
He means to heighten my
apprehension and anticipation by prolonging the inevitable
.
Heavy
footfalls thumped on the wood floor of the hall.
A
staccato beat drummed in her chest. The steps paused outside the door, then
resumed into the room. She closed her eyes not caring to see her first visitor.
Her nose wrinkled at the fetidness of cigar smoke blown into her face. The
cushions moved.
“My,
my, my, Buzz was right,” the guy crooned with a hint of a British accent. “You
are lovely. I don’t think he’d like it though if he knew your eyes were
closed.” He slapped at her face. “And I’d be the one to tell him, too. I am his
closest apprentice.”
Slowly,
she opened her lids. The man perched on the edge of the couch reeked of beer
and bad tobacco, his eyes were bloodshot. Her blood ran cold when he traced a
yellowed fingertip and nail along the outside of her breast.
“You
are so lovely.” He rested his hand on her thigh. “I feel the power within you
and can understand why Buzz wants to tap it. But I also sense you’re not the
strongest of your clan.” He stroked his palm down the top of her leg to her
knee.
“No matter.
Your blood is just as good as
theirs. It all comes from the same ancestral lines.”
Clan?
Blood?
Ancestral line
?
The room had suddenly grown
chilly and too small. She did her damnedest to prevent any surprise or dread showing
on her face. Not that the drunken slob would have noticed, but she didn’t want
to take that chance.