Chapter 5
"What on earth is wrong with you, Cindy? Trina, what's going on?"
Ellen stood at the table, her forehead wrinkled as she stared at the mess next to Cindy's chair. The blonde had accidentally dropped the potato salad when the phone rang, and was staring at the mess while her mother spoke to some salesman and politely told him she wasn't interested. Trina was doing little better, clutching the edge of the white lace tablecloth while staring at a hole in the salt shaker Both girls looked possessed, their faces alternately red and white as their mother now spoke to them.
"N-nothing, Mama. It's just that-we're tired," Trina said, glancing nervously up at her sister, then getting up from the table and starting to clean up the mess.
Cindy was still shaking, obviously too nervous to move one inch. It had been three days since their ordeal and the girl was still too shocked by what had happened to make herself think clearly about it. It was, she thought, only because she had been drunk and remembered little of what happened that Trina could function better. Cindy had told her about most of what had happened, although she couldn't bring herself to talk about eating her sister's cunt. Perhaps when they were older she would say something. But right now Trina remembered nothing about that, and that was the way Cindy wanted it.
"Tired? At your age? And school isn't even in session. Just what have you girls been doing?" Ellen asked, suspicion starting to claw at her heart. She had been told that they were studying for school early, wanting to make good grades.
"Well, we were talking all night too-you know, about guys and stuff."
Ellen smiled wryly. Of course. Girls did that at all ages. She wondered about her daughters not dating regularly, wondering if perhaps there were something wrong with them.
Ellen finished clearing the table, watching silently as her daughters filed from the room and suddenly climbed the stairs. She shook her head. They were acting far too somber for girls their age. Something had happened, something she guessed she should be privy to.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knocking at the kitchen door. Who, she wondered, could be calling at this hour? Ellen wiped her hands and peeped through the white lace curtains. It was a man holding what appeared to be an envelope. A delivery man at night? Curious. She opened the door and stepped back.
"Uh, Miss Ellen Fischer?"
"Mrs. Fischer," she said with a smile, tilting her head to one side and wondering what on earth this was about.
"You'll come with me," he said, gripping her right upper arm.
Ellen was shocked.
"What? Who are you?"
She kept her voice down low, fearing her daughters might hear her. She was certain in a flash this was Brad's doing. He had said he would come for her one night-he or someone else. Ellen pulled back, shaking off the man's grip for a moment.
"I'm not going with anyone until you explain just who and what you are!"
The man was tall and thickly built, not unlike the man who had seduced and beaten her. She was unsure of what she found in Brad, and uncertain as to whether she would enjoy having him abuse her again. But the delivery man was insistent, grabbing her again and pulling her roughly past the back porch to a small blue van parked in the service alley.
Ellen whimpered, her eyes rolling up and catching sight of her daughters' bedroom windows. The light looked warm, friendly. But Ellen didn't dare cry out. The shame of being found out made her remain silent.
All through the long ride, she hugged one side of the van, her body shivering and shaking with fear. This was far more formal, more threatening than anything Brad had done to her before.
The strange man kept an eye on her, barely negotiating some narrow curves as he drove the van through Glendale and up into the foothills nearby. They were going past Brad's house, she was sure, driving to an area far from her neighborhood.
When they stopped, Ellen's heart skipped a beat.
"Outside!"
The command was sharp. Ellen wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her slacks, slipping her legs from the carpeted van and walking unsteadily on the path leading to a small building. She was so nervous that she only caught glimpses of her surroundings. There was the smell of pine, accented by exhaust fumes. They couldn't be that far from L.A.
"Put your hands behind you!"
They had stopped in front of a cabin. The man produced a length of quarter-inch cord and with practiced fingers crossed Ellen's wrists and bound them firmly, one to the other. Ellen flinched, not enjoying the feeling of having her hands tied so roughly.
"Inside!"
The man pushed her forward, his hand between her shoulder blades while Ellen climbed the three wooden steps without difficulty. Once inside she found Brad sitting on an old stuffed chair. The cabin was much larger than it looked from the outside. The trees and growth outside obviously covered much of its size. Worse, there were frightening-looking instruments hanging from the walls, things like those she'd seen in Brad's playroom that awful night. Ellen turned, tugging at the rope holding her wrists. She started to open her mouth but was stopped by a sharp smack across her right cheek.
"I think that'll stop her from screaming too much, Jack."
"Who is he? What are you doing? Why have you brought me here?" Ellen asked, her face flushing with anger and fear.
Brad shrugged, opening his hands and staring at her with amusement.
"Because I think you liked what I did to you. Because I think you need a little direction and discipline in your life, and because I just decided I wanted to do it. That's reason enough, right?"
"No! I'm a person! I have rights! I-"
Jack smacked her again, and this time his hand came down swiftly against her chin. Ellen cried out, sinking to her knees and nearly toppling over as the force of the blow made her head spin.
"Let's get her up, then see what she has to complain about."
Jack pushed her past the small anteroom, through a low doorway and into a much larger, more spacious area that seemed cooler and more comfortable. He positioned her to one side of the room, untying the rope that had started to chafe her wrists. Ellen was about to thank him when she noticed that above her head a system of pulleys were screwed into the ceiling.
Jack moved slowly from cabinet to cabinet against the wall, pulling out things that undoubtedly would be used on her. She was frightened, but managed somehow to stay outwardly cool. She wouldn't give them the benefit of noticing her terror as they tried to manipulate her.
"Oh!"
Jack tightened a broad leather band around her right wrist, cinching two straps securely through small brass rings, then stretching her arm up until one ring on the cuff brushed against the overhead pulley. Ellen realized the two could be hooked up, and hooked up they were. Jack moved to the other wall and untied several ropes holding a winch in a steady position. He turned the crack, tightening the rope that threaded through the pulleys. Immediately Ellen could feel the resulting tension that pulled her arms up straight, stretching her body until she stood on tiptoe. Her arches strained and her heart beat wildly. It was happening all over again. And Jack was still turning the winch, twisting the handle more slowly as the rope groaned from the weight of her body.
Ellen let out a soft sigh, feeling something pop in her shoulder. They were hauling her up from the floor, her muscles pulling and stretching painfully as her toes finally swept over the wooden planks. She threw back her head, her lips pulled as her legs scissor-kicked back and forth.
Jack stopped, locking the winch, then moving up to her and tracing his fingers lightly over the soft curves of her thighs.
Ellen watched him, her eyes blurred with tears. She wanted to kick him, to strike back at the man causing her all this pain. But she knew surely he would retaliate ferociously. Ellen looked down. Her toes were at least eighteen inches from the floor.
Jack moved around, fastening an anklet on her right ankle and bending back Ellen's legs.
He fastened another cuff around Ellen's free arm, attaching her arm and leg together. The weeping woman struggled helplessly against her awful restraints, her left foot hanging without support, kicking wildly from side to side as the muscles in her arms bulged with the tension. Then she saw Jack pull a switchblade knife from his pocket, pushing a tiny black button on the top side and releasing an eight-inch blade. Her eyes grew wide. Jack smacked his lips.
"No, no! Brad! Oh God, he's going to kill me! God in heaven, somebody help me!"
She never thought she would ask Brad for help. But the thought of Jack stabbing her made Ellen call out.
Jack ignored her pleas, bringing the knife down to her ankle, then slitting up the sides of her slacks. He cut both legs, leaving the garment in shreds before pulling it down and bringing the blade up against the center of her panty crotch.
"Uh!"
He rubbed the flat of the cold blade against the nylon, staring at her with glittering, animal eyes.
Ellen felt him cutting her, pressing the sharp edge of the blade against her right thigh, then bringing it down in a slicing arc. She screamed, tugging wildly at the rope holding her left wrist to the pulley. He had sliced off her panties with that movement, leaving a long pink mark against her flesh where the blade had barely cut.
Ellen bawled hysterically, thrusting and jerking her body from side to side and screaming at him to stop. Jack refused to listen, reaching up and tearing her blouse off with one swift tug. She was naked now, stripped in front of him, her body jerking and her tits flopping against her heaving chest.
It was a terrible punishment. There was no position, nothing that the woman could find that would ease the torment in her shoulders. Her face grew pale and her voice shrilled higher and higher. Brad made a face, nodding in the direction of the bins once more.
"Jack is a friend of mine. I have many of them. We're something of a brotherhood, although that shouldn't surprise you by now, Ellen. I can call you by your first name, can't I? I feel I know you-you and your daughters, that is."
Trina? Cindy? No, he couldn't know them, even know of them! "Get the gag!"
Ellen watched helplessly as Jack pulled out what appeared to be a black rubber ball with two straps dangling from either side. He climbed onto an overturned crate and pushed the gag between her front teeth. Ellen choked back a scream, her teeth biting down onto the foul-tasting latex as Jack pulled the straps back and attached them behind her skull. The woman could taste her spit backing down her throat and coating her belly as she hung there like a side of beef.
"Mmmfmmffffff!"
Ellen tried to shake the thing from her mouth, feeling more and more helpless as the seconds ticked by. Her arms were hurting more and more as Brad backed down and grinned at his buddy.
"Come on and let's see how we can make this bitch dance!"
Ellen stopped twisting, realizing her movements hurt her as much as if they were beating a stick against her shoulders. Brad was back at the cabinet, pulling out a long double-pronged rod with a black leather handle. Flicking on a switch, the big man swung the weapon through the air, and a faint crackling sound made Ellen's flesh break out into goose pimples. It was a cattle prod! The woman bit down harder on her gag, moaning through the ball while trying to swing away from her tormentors.
Brad hesitated for only a moment, then brought the rod down on her right calf.
Ellen screamed, feeling as if someone had bit her leg through to the bone. She jerked like a puppet, her body bouncing against the groaning pulleys and her tits bobbing and slapping against one another. Brad moved around quickly, bringing the rod up to her ass and shoving it against her asshole.
"Eaghghhghghhhh!"
She swung out to the front, her spine arching. One burning sensation followed another, each one more powerful as her choked screams filled the room. Her eyes rolled, her throat tightening while spit frothed on her stretched lips. And there were no signs of them letting up.
Brad brought the rod around to the front, holding it inches from her eyes, then bringing the double prongs down to her nipples. Ellen watched with wide eyes, her head quivering and her pulse racing as the small blue sparks flew from one metal tip to the other. Just when she thought they would spare her more pain, he touched the tip of her right nipple.
"Yaghghhhh!"
She shrieked to the heavens, her tits flopping against one another. The woman could smell burning flesh and feared they had burned off her nipple.
"The other one, now man, the other one!" Jack whispered.
Ellen shook her head violently, her muscles spasming against her pulled flesh as she watched them drop the rod down to her left nipple. Again the sparks shot through her body, her nipple turning brown under the electrical attack and her body dancing and jerking against the hanging ropes. Her voice shrilled past the gag as the room seemed to spin dizzyingly around, making her sick. One last scream, and then the woman fell unconscious, her body pulling sickly against the overhead ropes.
How long she remained in a faint Ellen had no idea. When she awoke and blinked her eyes open, she saw the men standing there, staring up at her. She could still feel the stinging burn of the rod, even though neither man held it now. When she moved her mouth, Ellen discovered that the gag was still there, hurting her jaws as it pried her lips widely apart.
"Now you know I play a serious game, Ellen.
You thought you were going to come to a nice little bar and get a nice little lay," Brad said with a nasty laugh. "That's fine for some people, but not for me. I play with more serious toys."
It was only when they started lowering her to the floor that she realized her session was over.
No more, please God, no more, she thought to herself as Bob untied her arms and wrist, letting her stumble forward and finally collapse to the dirty floor. She lay there, too terrified to speak and too frightened to move. Brad walked to her, sliding one booted foot under her chest and rolling her over. She grunted, her arms flopping over her face as Brad wiped his sole over her chin, then brought the heel up against her mouth. Ellen didn't dare make a move that would trigger a terrible response.
"Good, very good!" he murmured, pressing down, then pulling his boot away! "Now suck!"
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he jerked her up against his groin. The gag popped from her mouth, falling to the floor with a spitty thud as his cockhead jabbed up against her nose and eyes.
Ellen swallowed what was left of her pride, opening her lips widely and letting the big man fuck his prick into her throat. She knew how to suck cock. Her ex-husband had taught her plenty about that.
Ellen did a good job as she wriggled her tongue around the thickly veined underside of Brad's prick, his balls slapping loudly against her chin. She could tell from the steady grunts he made that she was doing well-just like a trained circus animal. Brad liked that, and liked it especially when he jabbed in and dumped his hot load of spunk into her belly.
Ellen coughed and gagged, swallowing as much of the jizz as she could. When he finally pushed her away, she wiped her lips, fighting down the desire to gag. They were done with her. She could see that, even though Jack looked as if he wanted a turn at her.