The Rapture Wraith (Closed)

[RotheAllure]

This story is closed for The Apparition and Myself.

This beginning was written by both of us... and I credit TA for the wonderful idea... ​

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She could never forgive Him for what He did. She had once been innocent, virginal, a sweet face amidst the common glances of the crowd. A high school cheerleader, popular, pretty, her prom voted her queen, a moment she never forgot, even after graduating. That night had been so special, Aaron had told her he loved her. She had told him she wanted to wait until they were married before they consumated. That had been so very important to her.

He took that away from her.

He ripped that from her, as she lay beneath Him, bound, gagged, trying desperately to scream, the only sound coming forth was a muffled moan, a strangled cry for help, for mercy, that no one would hear.

Stalked, Captured, Mutiliated, Humiliated, Raped. Fourteen days, fourteen long, agonizing days, imprisoned by the sick son of a bitch, until on the fifteenth night, she managed somehow to break free. He had gotten lazy, the cuff on the handcuffs He had bound her with did not click into place, she realized it immediately, even thru the haze of her most recent beating and rape. As soon as He left the room, more than likely to get a beer, she was free.

Naked, scars practically covering her otherwise beautiful body, rope burns on her wrists and ankles from where she was bound, on the bed, where He tortured her, raped her, over and over.

She stood before him. He immediately laughed, a disgusting sound, she snapped, and using all the strength she had left, she swung her body around as the machete cleaved into His side.

Yes, He had been quite careless.

She grabbed the shotgun on the wall, as he staggered backward, bloodletting everywhere, some even spurting out in her direction. Defiantly, she leveled the weapon at His face and pulled the trigger. Blood painted her body. She collasped to the floor, crying.

Some twenty odd minutes later, she found herself in an ambulance, her only covering a towel the paramedics provided her as they treated some of her existing wounds on scene before they'd take her to the hospital, they had never seen anything like this.

She was never found guilty. In fact, some had even heralded her a champion for her resilience. It wasn't until after the abortion that the people had realized just what a sick man he had been, and just what the poor girl had been thru.

That was more than a year ago now. Aaron was gone, he unable to deal with the horror she herself had to face alone every damn day now, the horror of her memories, the marks upon her body.

The story was finally dying down, that is until the movie is made. She had just made a good amount of money to tell her horrific story yet again. To relive what the Bastard had done to her.

She never knew why He picked her.

Was it her red hair that had attracted His attention? She often thought of dying the color to something darker, afraid another would find her.. attractive. But her Aunt, the only family she had left, convinced her not to. "You know your mother and father loved your hair"

Yes, she knew.

She found a new place to live, try to pick up the pieces of a life that had been tragically interrupted, and very nearly ended. She had few scars, those marks of His, but they were there, marking her belly, the curve of a hip, along her inner thigh.

The worse, He had.... branded her, burned into the flesh of her upper, inner thigh, close to her most intimate of places. To remove that mark would take surgery. That would be soon, she vowed, very soon. She refused to even look at that symbol, the symbol of a monster.

Saralynn had not even turned 20 yet, that would be this coming September. Yet she had lived thru an ordeal, a nightmare, that others could barely comprehend.

She was the only one who managed to survive, the others had died at His hand. She, she had been different, stronger, she had killed her attacker.

Saralynn was a hero.

Saralynn only saw herself as the prey, the prey of a evil Predator. Thank God He was dead.

Saralynn

 

[The Apparition]

He grinned as he looked at her picture album on her personal website, one or two of the pictures of the young woman in revealing attire and even in a bikini. She was unaware of him, who he really was.. all she knew was a name and age.

"Eric Voss
M/22"

It's what read on "his" website. Little did she know that the guy a few years older than her was a terrible man. Little did she know that every minute detail she shared with him was just what he aspired for, to get closer to her - for her to let her guard down. He reread the last message she had sent him:

"Subject: Summer vacation!
Message:
Finally! School is done... I can now focus on what I want to actually do instead of what people expect of me. But first, what would a high school grad be without a party, right? So I'll be in and out a lot during the summer, with friends before I never see them again..
Coulie is such a nice town, it's generally quiet and nobody to bother you..."

His dark green eyes turned away momentarily from the monitor, that's when the plan came to his mind... 'quiet, nobody to bother you'...
Hm.. imagine if I could get a place there, and lure her there, or something, somehow.
Clicking on the 'back' button of his browser, he viewed more of her webpage, the fancy colors she had added as a customization to express herself - she was evidently proficient in that aspect, he surmised.
Intelligence, excellent.

Navigating his mouse to a message screen, he clicked on her name that instantly filled in her contact information, then he began tapping away on the keyboard.

"Subject: Re: Summer vacation!
Message: Hey Sara! Congrats, that's awesome to hear! I actually live near Coulie! I dunno if I ever mentioned that to you.. So if you ever want to meet, you should let me know. Talk to ya later."

The next day, he slumped into his office chair in front of the computer, unloosening the tie around his neck before rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He sighed quietly before turning to the monitor, touching the mouse as it exited out of the screensaver before accessing her website, again. To his enjoyment, he noticed she had responded rather quickly after he had messaged her last night.

"Subject: Re: Re Summer vacation!
Message: Thanks.. That'd be cool to be able to meet you, but I dunno if my boyfriend would be too happy, lol. I'm sure we could figure out something, sometime, though. Later!"

He blinked at the message.
So, she has a boyfriend... Eh, she seems like the prude. There's probably a way to sweep her away.
Almost instantly, he received a notification that she had updated her website with a message, and clicked back to read:

"Well everybody, I'm going to be out for a couple days. The girl friends and I have organized a girl-only party for the weekend, because almost all of them have suddenly decided that they want to set off for college sooner than everybody else!! Talk to you all later! Caio!"

It was that message that seemed to make it clear to him. She would be with girl friends, who would more than likely want to have some kind of fun with anonymous guys that their boyfriends would never know about. His first bet was to check out the shopping malls and restaurants that were downtown, which he set off for first thing in the evening.

He grew frustrated after the first few restaurants and he found no Saralynn. Groups of college girls, or recent high school grads who were doing just as Saralynn was: partying, celebrating their accomplishment in life. It was supposed to be a celebatory time, after all.
It was almost as if by chance that he walked right by her, actually bumping right into her shoulder in the crowded shopping mall. She seemingly ignored him, just offering a quiet "Sorry" before continuing on with the gossip she was sharing with her friends.

He stopped dead in his tracks and peered over his shoulder, the goosebumps forming on his arms, even underneath the light coat he was wearing. It was her. Turning around, he took a couple steps closer before calling out her name:
"Saralynn? Saralynn!"

She was wary of him, as she naturally asked him if he knew her.
"Eric! Eric Voss! I talk to you on your website!"
It took her a brief moment to familiarize herself with the name before the expression on her face turned to excitement.
"OH! Hey! What're the chances of us meeting here?"

Chances, indeed.
It wasn't completely by chance, only chance that they actually bumped right into each other when he was least expecting it.
The rest of the evening, they chatted, mostly about her and what she planned on doing - seemingly ignoring her friends as they talked amongst themselves mostly before leaving her alone. A couple of them had even giggled about the two of them getting a room, or about how jealous her boyfriend would be - but she seemed to ignore the talk.

"Say, I know this place in Coulie. Real quiet, nobody to really bother you. Would you or your friends be interested in checking it out?"
Her friends more or less ignored the notion, though they seemed to encourage Saralynn to go.
"Go on, Sara, it could be fun!"
He grinned before idly scratching the back of his neck.
"Besides, we won't be there that long. Maybe an hour or so."
"Oh, you guys go on ahead! He can drop you off at Jamie's, I bet."
With a gentle shrug and then a nod, he continued:
"I've got no problem with that."
"Catch you later, Sara!"

It was almost too easy... Her friends seemed eager for her to be left alone, as if they were in collusion with him. The truth was, he assumed, that they wanted their friend to lose her cherry to somebody she had gotten to "know" without worrying about repercussions. It would be a mistake they would never forgive themselves for...

As he drove down the dark road, coming along the house in a field he looked over to her who seemed excited by the isolation of the place.
"It's so quiet," she said as they got out of the car.
"Yeah, let's go inside.."

His heart was racing, it was inevitable that it would happen, now. The front door opened for her, as he held it open before gently closing it shut after himself. She looked about as he excitedly pointed down the hallway.
"Go down this hallway, I wanna show you something!"
He followed behind, putting a hand on her shoulder as he indicated for her where to go as they entered a large bedroom.

The bedroom looked normal, but once he flicked the lights on, there were all sorts of sex toys - chains, rope, lotions - sitting on a table next to the bed. He quietly closed the door behind her as she giggled nervously while looking around before she found herself in a quick panic as he placed a cloth over her mouth dosed in chloroform. She quickly subdued.

When she awoke, she found herself on the bed - stripped naked, her arms and legs tied to the bedposts as he approached the bed, himself naked.
"Saralynn. I don't want you to be afraid. There's no reason for you to be, as you wanted all of this, right? The solitude, the pleasure of knowing no one around us.."
He then crawled atop of her, straddling her as he groped her. Then, without hesitation, he pierced her virginal pussy with his rock-hard member before he began a wild assault.

That first night, without a doubt, had to be her most difficult. He continually pounded her until she was literally too sore, and his sperm would no longer stay inside of her, but would continually ooze out until he grew tired and stretched in front of her.
"I don't know about you, but I'd better get some shut eye.. Sleep tight," he said rather nonchalantly before shutting the lights before he closed the door after himself - leaving her tied on the bed.

 

[RotheAllure]

Thrashing, sheets bunched up around her, body bathed in sweat, she trying to scream, so desperate to scream, to beg, plead, but the only sound she could make was a strangled cry, muffled, muted, as if she were gagged, or a hand were over her mouth. Back arching, gasping, panting, begging...

Eyes snapping open, unseeing, still lost in the grasp of the nightmare, more like a night terror, that she was having. Over and over she relived that first night, that first night of fourteen. Fourteen days and nights of a living nightmare. Over and over she felt Him, raping her, choking her, laughing as she struggled to breath, to live, and actually succeeded, at least this time. Sara thought for sure she would die that first night.

But she was too strong for that.

She sat up, her bed torn apart in her desperate fight for life. Body dripping, she was shaking almost violently. Wrapping her arms about herself she tried, tried so hard, to calm herself, but calm would not come to her. Not this night, nor did it any other night she had the horrifying nightmares.

In the months since her attack, she had grown accustomed to not sleeping. The simple fact was, she was becoming even more afraid of sleep and the dreams that it brought than she did when reliving the horror in person, telling her story yet again, and again, and again.

"get a grip Sara" .... "He's dead... Eric Voss is dead"... it was a mantra that she repeated over and over again, as she rocked back in forth in her own bed..

She would not sleep again this night.

Climbing out of bed, a robe slipped on over her shoulders. Bare feet carrying her to her kitchen, a teapot set to heat. She sat down at the table, looking at the clock. 3am... again... she was sooooo tired of seeing 2am... 3am... 4am... soooo tired.

Sara levelled her eyes at the phone. A sad shake of her head. There was no one to call, no one she could talk to, with the exception of her Aunt and she would not wake her up this time of night. Aaron, her boyfriend, distraught over the 14 days she had been missing, had been unable to handle what had happened to the only girl he would ever love. The marks on her body, the truth of her rapes. The abortion.

He tried, Sara had to give him credit for that, but he lasted only a couple of months after her escape, then he just stopped calling her, seeing her.

Not even a goodbye. So much for love.

Never mind her friends, the friends who had encouraged her to "Go on, Sara, it could be fun!"

Guilt drove them away. They had no idea what to say to her, or how to say it. Sara struggled to understand, but what hurt, what tore her apart was the fact that she was left alone to deal, deal with the memories, the images, the blood that soaked her when she killed him. Left her alone to deal with the question of why her? Why had she been so stupid to trust a stranger on the internet. To this day she had never turned on a PC again. She never would...

Eric Voss had taken so much from her. Sometimes she wished He were still alive, for the mere fact that she could torture Him the way He tortured her.

"Don't even go there Sara" she warned herself. There were things that He had done to her that she could not even entertain the thought of remembering, even tho the images, the sensations, the knowledge, the memory, was right there behind the wall she herself had created. She was afraid that to relive some of His, the Monster's, actions, tortures... would drive her into the shadows of madness.

The high pitched whistle of the tea kettle drew her back, thankfully, to reality. A few minutes later and Sara was sitting, alone, in front of her fireplace, the warmth of a fire burning, the glow illuminating the room with that flickering, almost haunting glow. Alone, she was so very alone.

No one cared for her, not anymore.

It was during these nights, as she stared into the crimson flame of the dying fire, that the most haunting thought creeped into her mind, a thought that made her very blood go cold, that made her heart and her breath pause.....

What if Eric Voss had been the only one who DID care...

Some called it Stockholm syndrome

 

[The Apparition]

That next morning, he walked in, opening the door to find her still laying on the bed with her arms and legs tied to the bed. He watched with those eyes of his, the green hue that glimmered in fascination of his specimen as she began to squirm and writhe in the bed as he approached. He held a cup in one hand, as the other scratched at a light patch of fur on his flat abdomen before crudely grabbing at his crotch underneath a pair of black sweatpants.

He grinned as she struggled and squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to will his image out of her mind - without success. Slowly, he eased himself next to her on the bed as he set the cup on her stomach, which turned to be extremely hot as he watched her reaction.
"Don't move so much, and maybe you won't get burned," he warned, however, she continued to thrash which caused some of the liquid inside the cup to splash out and onto her skin. She yelped in pain from the scalding hot liquid that landed on her belly and some on her breasts.

Then, moving the cup to a side table, he leaned down and began lapping up the liquid that pooled on her abdomen. She hadn't spoken a single word after he had put the cloth of chloroform over her mouth and bound her to the bed, but as he enjoyed lapping up what was assumed to be a beverage, she spoke then:

"You're sick! You're sick!"

Immediately, he stopped, glaring up at her that caused her to seize any further speech as he then crawled over her - straddling her once again. However, he kept his sweatpants on before digging a hand into one of the pockets, and produced a strange looking knife. He held the curvature of the blade to her face before running the dull side down her cheek and the rest of her body before stopping just above her navel region.

"Saralynn, Saralynn.." he started with a quiet tsking, idly tracing around her body with the blade. "You're going to have to come to realize that your defiance is futile. Nobody knows where we are... just as you wanted, am I right?" He watched, a smile growing on his features as he noticed tears beginning to well in her eyes, she was evidently realizing just what it was he was saying.

"Now... to make a mark..."

He craned his head slightly before moving just slightly down from her body, resting slightly on her knees before leaning forward. Twisting the knife in his hand he lowered it at the point of the bottom of her abdomen before he pressed down, her body trembling as she began to feel the pain. Blood began to trickle out as she now began sobbing, while he cruelly dragged the tip of the blade downward before making a quick upward slash - the cut almost resembling a checkmark.

Sitting upright, he admired the mark for a moment before leaning in to create a small 'diamond' mark just above the blunt area of the first mark. The blood trickled down the sides of her belly, and some even trickling down just above her pubic hair.

"When you behave yourself, I may let you bath yourself with me. How about that, hm? Or maybe even some food.."

He watched her expression before a smile again formed before he got onto his knees, and began pulling the pants down from his waist to reveal a semi-rock hard erection underneath. Then he scooted himself close, practically sitting on her fresh wound as he began stroking himself into a harder erection and placing his prick just in front of her face. He closed his eyes as he stroked himself further, just before ejaculating, and opened his eyes to look down to her as she writhed again.

His mouth began gaping open as he was nearing ejaculation before he looked to her and spoke:
"In the meantime, you'll have to enjoy this.."
And having said that, he released an explosion of cum on her face and around her mouth as he coaxed every bit out of himself before crawling off of her and pulling the waistband up.

Turning around, he left, leaving the door open this time.. evidenced that he intended on returning.

 

[RotheAllure]

The first mark, it hurt, it hurt alot. Worse than most of the others He had carved into her flesh, because indeed it was the first. The only thing that hurt more than that was the brand. But that did not come til later, days later.

He had left her, bound to the bed, naked, virginal blood still bleeding from her raped sex. How long had she lain there, in the all consuming darkness, unable to see, unable to really move, and knowing that as loud as she could scream, none would hear her.

She wondered if her friends, her Aunt, were worried. Would they find her PC? Would they think to look on it? Find the emails and IMs with Eric, find her MySpace account? Would they think she had been asking for this? Given the pictures of herself she posted, and the dark fantasies she spoke about. Were they even now thinking she was enjoying herself?

So many twisting, frightened thoughts racing around her head, there in the dark.

It felt like He had just left when He returned, strolling in. The look on His face was as normal as the next guy. As if having a raped, naked girl tied to one's bed was as normal and expected as His morning coffee, or His pet dog wagging it's tail at His feet.

The closer He got, the more she desperately pulled at the ropes that held her, writhing, squirming.

It did her no good.

She already knew it would not.

It got her burned, the scalding liquid splashing onto bare, vunerable skin, He eagerly lapping the cooling spill up, His tongue felt sooooo obscene.

"You're sick! You're SICK!"

The words sounded weak, tumbling unbidden from her lips. It was as if her words were nothing more than an irritated buzzing in His ear.

"Saralynn, Saralynn.." he started with a quiet tsking, idly tracing around her body with the blade. "You're going to have to come to realize that your defiance is futile. Nobody knows where we are... just as you wanted, am I right?" He watched, a smile growing on his features as he noticed tears beginning to well in her eyes, she was evidently realizing just what it was he was saying.

"Now... to make a mark..."

Blade to flesh, blood spilling, she screaming, sobbing, crying, begging.

"Eric... Eric please.. don't do this anymore. Let me go. I.... I won't tell anyone. Just let me go. PPPlease Eric" she whispered as she bit at her lower lip, trying to keep those tears of pain at bay. "ppplease"

But it was as if He did not hear her, at least at first.

She could feel the warm lacings of her blood on her skin, the burning pain, sliced flesh. A mark... the first of many.

When He was done, leaving her with His seed all over her face, He left the room, but did not close the door. Sara was not quite sure if that small fact scared her or encouraged her. Lifting her head slightly, she could see out and down the hall, a window at the end told her it was daylight out, was that the sun?? What time was it? How long had she been there? Maybe.... maybe He was through with her. Maybe.

But, she could hear Him, somewhere in one of the other rooms. He was whistling, as if He were sooooo perfectly content at what was happening, at what He was doing. That sound send a cold shiver thru her.

He wasn't done with her, not by a long shot....

~​

Sara snapped awake, her body jerking so fast that she almost fell out of the chair she was sitting in. She did succeed in spilling the hot tea she had made. But wait, it wasn't even hot anymore. How long had she been sitting at the table. When did she fall asleep? Groggy, still shaking from the vestiges of the nightmare she had been in the middle of, she squints at the clock.

11:15..

11:15 am??? Her eyes went to the window, yes, it was morning, and a bright one at that. She had fallen asleep at the table and even there the nightmares had come to her, invaded her mind, her sleep, her life. She sat there for many long minutes, staring at that window, the image of the window at the end of the hall of that place, that place that was still there, rolling around in the forefront of her mind.

Why were these nightmares becoming so bad? She was well past the incident. One would thing these intense of nightmares would have come in the first few weeks after her escape. But it was nearly a year later.

Was it the movie?

She had only just recently seen a trailer for the movie *Fourteen Days* starring Lindsey Lohan as Saralynn and Ashton Kutcher as Eric Voss. Sara had thought immediately that Ashton was too much of a pretty boy to portray the monster that was Eric, but the decision was not hers, and already people were talking about the movie, saying it was a *real life horror story, with only one very real monster*

Well, at least they were right about that.

Sara finally got to her feet and stretched.

Maybe she should go back to her therapist? Dr. Locke had been helping her. But she was tired of having to go over and over what happened. The Doctor had explained that it was a process to draw out the memories. To become numb to them, so that the nightmares would not come. But Sara honestly believed that she would never become numb to what Eric had done to her.

These memories, these nightmares were her ghosts, her wraiths, to carry for the rest of her life.

 

[The Apparition]

Water could be heard running through one of the walls in the room he held her in. Once it stopped, he momentarily re-entered to set a pair of towels next to the bed while he continued to whistle a familiar tune. When he came back, this time he had two buckets in hand, a large one and a smaller one - both filled with water. He set the both of them at the foot of the bed before watching her, and then admiring her body.

"You're giving yourself rope burns there, my dear. Just look at your wrists and ankles!"

He continued to whistle again as he picked up the large bucket, and promptly tossed its contents onto her. The water felt almost ice cold, a complete world of difference from the beverage he had set on her abdomen moments ago that practically burned her. He laughed as she went into a panicked frenzy, her body reacting to the radical change of temperature as the bed was completely soaked now, her body growing goosebumps all over - her nipples, becoming stiff and darkening.

He moaned almost quietly to himself, as if turned on by the display before he tossed the bucket aside and reached for the smaller pail. Walking around the side, he seated himself before quickly standing up.

"Oh my that is cold, and now my pants are wet," he said before setting the bucket on the floor, next to him. It was almost as if he was giving himself an excuse to be naked along with her, as he promptly pulled the sweatpants from his waist again, and this time, simply discarded them across the room before moving himself closer to her, as their skin made contact. She naturally attempted to retract in revulsion as he began to lean over her, simply making a hushing sound before reaching down toward the pail.

Producing a small sponge, he then placed it just to the side of her abdomen before he began gently rubbing her body. He looked up to her face, a smile growing on his face.

"Too much for you, hm?"

He indicated to the mess of cum still streaked on her face, then reached over with the sponge and began wiping it up before tossing it into the bucket. Admiring her beauty he began to crawl over her again, propping himself on his knees as he allowed for his testicles to drag on her ribcage.

"You know, Saralynn... I've always known you secretly wished your boyfriend would have done something similar to you. You always hid behind the facade that you were "pure", that you wanted to wait until marriage. You just wish he had the balls as I do, to just take you whenever you would throw yourself on him."

Grinning, he watched as her reaction was a twist of confusion, disgust and possibly even understanding. She had to of known right then, just how long he had to of been monitoring her - even on her dates with her boyfriend. He knew, just as she did, that whenever Aaron would attempt to go further with her - she would retract, and wish for them to wait... but when she would attempt to go further, Aaron didn't know what to do, confused.

"You confused your boyfriend pretty good, didn't you? Well, I'm here to let you know it'll all be worth it..."

Placing his cock in between her breasts, he then took his hands, and began to squeeze the firmness of her mammaries closer until they practically encompassed his thickness. Slowly, he began swaying himself back and forth as the tip of his cock popped out just above her breasts.

"If you just embrace the fact that you really are a whore, it'll make it all the better.."

He could tell she didn't quite understand what he meant, until he continued:

"Open your mouth, Sara. Just do it, taste my cum.."

Still swaying himself, squeezing her tits together he watched as she seemed to half-oblige as she lifted her head slightly, only to see the head of his cock continually poke out from in between her breasts - causing her to quickly rest her head back down, squeezing her eyes shut. That caused him to stop, and release one of her breasts as he reached down and grabbed her by the face.

"Don't do this, Sara! Don't shut me out! Just taste it unless you want me to force you to!"

He did so, regardless, as he then ignored titty-fucking her and moved himself closer to her and with one hand, he began masturbating himself again as the other began to pry her mouth open. She refused, but with a few slaps to the face, she seemed to wisen up, her resistance weakening. Instead of manually stimulating himself any further, he then crawled toward the head of the bed, and jabbed his cock into her mouth.
With quick jabbing motions of his hips, he simply began to throat-fuck her now. He could hear as Saralynn gagged and even began to vomit slightly until he held himself in her throat and began to cum.

"That's right, Sara... just taste it. You'll love it.."

Slowly, he began to slide out until as he coaxed more into her mouth before completely withdrawing. She began to cough violently, as he looked down to her, with a saliva/cum mix running down her chin, and began to laugh cruelly.

"That's a good girl."

He leaned down, grabbing the sponge from the pail as he wiped up her face again before climbing off of her body.

"If you're a good girl again, you might even get real food for lunch or dinner," he said excitedly, as if speaking to a pet rather than a person, while he reached for a towel and began drying her off.
"..Maybe even a real shower or bath!

Then, taking the towels with him, he walked out as he wiped off any cum or wetness from the water that was on him.

 

[RotheAllure]

It was several nights later, but, the problem was, was this within her ever increasing, and ever more chilling nightmares? Or within the real world where Sara tried to exist, tried to deal with, tried to live with, what was done to her.

This particular night, she was crying in bed, something she had not done in such a very long time. Sara was alone, in the dark, sobbing.

But was this in the here and now? Or was this in the horror of her captivity? In the realm of her nightmares?

Her head turned aside, her body shaking, hearing His incessant whistling in the other room, again as if this were a perfectly normal night, or day, she had lost track of time, in a perfectly normal life.

Normal for one as twisted as Eric was.

Sara had desperately tried not to cry, even as the fear gripped her, shook her. Sometimes it felt as if the fear were raping her, over and over again, and laughing in her face as it did so.

She wanted to die.

But she had no control over life and death, not any more. Eric, Eric Voss had complete control.

This night He had made her taste Him. His seed was foul and viscous, tainted and spoiled. She had gagged, choked, and swallowed. He was not only raping her outside, but her inside as well. He was fouling her with the same poison that ran within His veins. It took every ounce of strenght she had not to vomit it all up and in turn choke herself to death.

As much as her conscious mind wanted to die, her unconscious wanted to live, was desperate to live, fighting to live.

Quieting herself, the tears finally fading, Sara let her eyes open to that all consuming darkness once more. How long had it been? How long had she been crying? Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks?

When would He return? She shook at the mere thought. She was hungry, hurting, terrified, and so very alone. To lay there, in that consuming darkness and wonder, was He watching her even now? Staring at her? Smiling at her pain, at her fear, at her humiliation? Would He rape her again? Carve into her skin again? Choke her? or.... worse?

This was just another kind of torture, making her think, in the dark. Think that she hears Him breathing, think that she sees the dark, almost hellish gleam to His eyes, think that she can feel the touch of His fingertips, the scrape of a blade.

"no... NO!!!"

Sara shot up in bed, wildly looking around. Another night. Another nightmare. The TV flickered in the background. She had tried to sleep with the TV on to distract her tortured mind. That had backfired, as even now, upon the screen, was yet another story about her, and the upcoming *Fourteen Days* movie.

As she blinked into the darkness, feeling a cold touch, a presence, looming, lurking, slithering like an evil snake in the darkness, then it was gone.

Sighing, Sara spent another night wide awake.

"I hate You Eric Voss" she whispered.

"I HATE YOU" she screamed into the blackness of her own personal hell, hoping He would hear her, no matter where He was in the house. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!"

 

[The Apparition]

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!"

His hand came down upon her, striking her across the face as she cried at him, her face already streaked with tears.

"Now that's no way to talk to me, Saralynn. You know better."

The belt immediately came off as he was already straddled upon her.

It was day three, and all that he had provided for her so far was the occasional splash of ice cold water on her body for her to "bathe" in. Her only "food" being the splash of his cum on her face, in her mouth.

He began to wrap the leather around his hand, turning it into a fist while raising it up. As he stared down at her, her face attempting to hide as she cried further - though, still defiant and through sobs, she still continued to whimper: "I hate you..."
Perhaps simply infatuated with her face, or perhaps amazed at her resilience, he paused as he held his fist above him as he reconsidered and lowered his hand.

"I know what will do you good..."

He tossed the belt aside and leaned forward, and over her - reaching for something on the bedside table. As he leaned back, into her view came that familiar blade; instantly, she recoiled and began to squirm. Aside from the mark he had left on her abdomen, there were several smaller ones on her arms and legs - though none other were as deep as the one on her abdomen. He laughed as she cowered in any way she saw fit.

"No, my dear, it's not time for a mark just yet..."

Quickly, he slashed just above her head as she yelped out in horror, though it quickly died off. She was shivering, her eyes closed shut before eventually opening to find that her hands were freed from their binds, albeit raw.

He then climbed off of her, and removed the binds at her ankles - that were equally as raw - before sliding the knife into a sheath hooked at his belt. His lip curled as he admired her beauty before reaching at her, and literally throwing her over his shoulder. He slapped at her naked rear, before crudely groping at her as he led her out of the room and down the hall.

As he expected, she squirmed about wanting out of his grasp as he turned into a room and flicked on the light: a bathroom. He closed the door after himself, and put her on her feet - something that seemed almost alien to her at this point, as she stumbled to the floor.

"Oh, come on, Saralynn. Get back up on your feet, unless you want to suck my dick?"

With another evil laughter, he then began to remove his own clothing as he walked toward her - though reached over her head and into the shower. The water from the showerhead then began to stream out as he stuck a hand under the water, and adjusted the dial as he saw fit.
He looked down to her as he pulled his shirt off, and then his pants. He stood naked in front of her, while she was sitting on the floor. Taking his flaccid cock in hand, he then smacked it on her face, for his own enjoyment.

"Well? What're you waiting for? You have two options, either start sucking or get in the shower!"

She hesitated for a brief moment before she climbed into the shower, the warm water taking her by surprise, compared to the ice cold water and the shivering that followed.
He followed after her, drawing the shower curtain closed, blocking the water from her as it splashed against his back. Watching her with intent, he licked at his lips before indicating her up.

"Stand."

Before she could even attempt to, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up to her feet. His hands held her firmly, while he leaned his hips close to her, his cock rubbing against her clitoris as he gradually began to grow erect.

"Mm.. yeah... Now Sara, I'm gonna fuck you. And you're gonna enjoy it.. Understand?"

She didn't respond, or at least, he wasn't paying attention to anything she might have been saying at that point as he twirled her around and against the shower wall. He took one leg into hand, lifting it up slightly as he set her on a small rest that jutted out from the wall and quickly, slid his rock hard member into her pussy.

He began thrusting in and out to the beat of his own drum, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. He seemed to have some kind of enjoyment of when he would thrust in quickly, as his balls would smack against her - their wet skin loudly clapping in the relatively small shower. As his mouth gaped open, he looked her in the eye.

He needn't say a word to her, as she knew: He was again going to cum inside of her. Whether for the sick pleasure of knowing she could possibly become pregnant, or whatever else. He watched as her eyes seemed to roll back, her hands reaching to his chest and pushing - just wanting to push him away from her. His strength and positioning wouldn't allow for him to move as he continually pounded away at her.

Quietly, he then began to growl, precum dribbling inside before slowing down to take a breather. Without any further consideration, but for himself, he then quickly thrusted inside and even further inside of her. His body began to shake, and then the heat of his cum splashed inside of her, though he did not relent - as he continued to pound at her.

His voice in her ear was almost a droning noise of pleasure as he leaned against her, wanting to stop - though he did not. It wasn't until he could feel a stinging on his chest, and looked down to see that her nails had dug into his skin. Panting wildly, he then stopped his fucking and slowly withdrew from her, chills running down his spine as he did.

"Now... wash us clean."

 

[RotheAllure]

He may have known how many days it had been. She, did not. For Saralynn, it felt like a lifetime.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!"

The words, the scream, had been somewhat of a catharsis for her. She actually felt, better, at least a little. Even tho her little outburst had gotten her brutally smacked by His hand, her cheek exploding in searing pain, her head snapping violently aside, tears flooding her eyes.
It had almost gotten her badly beaten.

What stopped Him?

For a moment there was a look in His eyes as He stared down at her. A look she wanted to try and indentify. It had stopped Him from viciously beating her. Was that a look of, compassion? Recognition? Something?

But the next moment His eyes were clouded and dull once more.

"I know what will do you good..."

Just the sound of the shower, the water splashing against the tub floor, sounded so wonderful to her. And, the water was warm, which was an added bonus. Her enjoyment was shortlived, however.

"Mm.. yeah... Now Sara, I'm gonna fuck you. And you're gonna enjoy it.. Understand?"

He had her trapped against the shower wall, between His wet body and the slick surface.

"Please Eric, please, no more. Let me.... let me go, I'm begging You"

It was as if He never heard her. His mind completely entangled in His own world, His own pleasure, His own perversions.

He lifted her leg, and pushed into her, His body pressing to hers, wet and slick, skin upon skin. Sara screamed out, as
He filled her, her pussy opening to Him, embracing, wrapping around as if welcoming His invasion into her body. A flood of her own wetness, hotter than the water of the shower that flowed down over His back, spilling over His thrusting cock.

Sara stared upwards, at the plain white of the ceiling while Eric raped her. Tears spilling from her eyes, leaving salty trails along her dampened cheeks. Her body slid against that wall, up slightly and back down in the rhythm of His rocking hips. He slowed down, letting her feel every agonizing inch of His cock pulling from her, only to delve within once more, slowly and deliberatly, until He could take it no more and pounded into her, grunting obscenely as He fucked her.

She tried to push Him back and away from her, in a vain attempt to stop Him. But He would not be stopped and she was too weak to really fight. She sunk her nails into the skin of His chest as she continued to try, thin rivulets of blood lacing down His chest, yet still He did not stop. She was moaning, her breath being driven from her as He fucked her, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"Noooo, NOOOO, please" She screamed, breathless as she clamped her eyes shut, feeling Him climax inside her, His cock buried to the hilt, so deep inside her, His body so tight against hers that she thought she could feel His balls twitching as He emptied His seed within the warmth of her sex. He was panting, she was whimpering, her head falling to His shoulder. She was took weakened to lift it up again. One would think they were lovers clinging to each other, lost in the throes of lust, and passion.

He stepped back, letting her sink to the tub floor at His feet. She gasping, shaking, trying her best not to cry.

"Now... wash us clean."

She shot a disgusted, filthy look upwards at Him, but did not protest. She was too afraid to.

Slowly, painfully, Sara got to her feet. Her pussy hurt, hell her insides hurt. She was so hungry, and terrified. She did not know what else to do but to obey Him and do what He told her. Maybe, maybe He would, would let her go if she did.

She lathered her hands with the soap, the suds sticking to her slender fingers, and very slowly, and quite carefully, she washed Him clean, beginning with His hair and ending at His feet. When she had washed His cock, balls, and ass, she tried to be as careful as humanly possible. The last thing she wanted to do was arouse the Monster yet again.

She then washed herself. Using the same careful techniques, especially when cleansing her own pussy. She wanted to wash away as much of HIM as she possibly could. He watched every move she made, just Him staring at her made her feel dirty all over again.

"Eric" she whispered, "please Eric, I'm hungry. Can we, can we go and get something to eat?" Hoping that He would agree to take her somewhere for food. If He were that gulliable that is.

Saralynn jumped out of the shower. "NO.. NOOOOOOO STOP PLEASE" she cried out as she fell to the floor, crawling away as if someone were chasing her. Anything to get away from the shower. What had she been thinking.

The shower ran for another 2 hours before she could even go back in there and shut the water off, vowing to never shower again. Good thing she had a bath tub she could bathe in. Just the idea of showering, which of course brought back the numerous times over those 14 days He had raped her in the shower, made her shudder.

What had she been thinking.

She knew, tho. She had been taking showers for months since her escape. The movie. That damn fucking movie, was bringing back all the nightmares, the terror, the shame, everything she had fought so hard to forget.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU ERIC VOSS!!!"

She yelled it into her bathroom, the words seeming to bounce off the walls of the small room.

What was really chilling was she thought, for that brief moment, that she had heard.... laughing.

 

[RotheAllure]

See the story that has captured the attention of millions.

The story of a true hero.

The story of a true victim.

The story of the hell she endured, and her final act of desperation.

Fourteen Days tells the story of Sara. SaraLynn. Caught in the web of a madman. Only death could free her.

Starring Lindsey Lohan and Ashton Kutcher

Opening Friday

The posters, the ads, the commercials, the movie was everywhere now. No matter where Saralynn looked, she was reminded, of Eric, of her nightmare, of her torture.

Even the brand upon her upper thigh started to throb.

It did not help that it was the brand, The letter E overlaying a letter V was the picture they showed on the posters, in the commercials. That brand had come to stand for the movie, and her horrifying ordeal. The brand that still marred her flesh.

 

[The Apparition]

He was laughing, laughing as she recoiled in terror, stumbling out of the shower.
"I like how you touch me, Sara..."
Reaching behind him, he turned the water off and then grabbed for a towel off the rack, just over the porcelain throne. He slowly followed her as she crawled backward, wanting to get away from him in any way that she could until the door stopped her from proceeding any further.

Smiling, he began to towel himself dry; first wiping at his face before then drying off his crotch. Then he tossed the towel at her.
"Dry yourself," he commanded.
He reached for another towel and wrapped it around his waist as he watched her momentarily hold the towel before she began to slowly dry herself off.

"If you don't hurry up, Saralynn... you won't get breakfast.."

He could tell the look on her face was of confusion, unsure whether to believe him - hell, why should she? That was quite possibly one of many things that made him so drawn to this perverse fantasy. He then began to nod,
"Yes... food. Real food."
She lacked the eagerness to expedite her current task, but she did eventually get to her feet to dry her backside before wrapping the towel around herself - which he promptly removed from around her shoulders.

Reaching with one hand, he grabbed at her arm; with his other he grabbed the doorknob and opened the bathroom door. Without further hesitation, he pulled her along with him back to the first room he held her in for those first two nights - she almost instinctively began to resist, fearing that he would tie her up to that bed again for him to have his way with her.

He tossed her to the floor, next to the bed and produced a small blade from the nightstand - he evidently had a fixation for blades - in many of the rooms and even in the hallways, there were all types of blades displayed. Mostly, they appeared to serve as a decorative purpose, though they appeared lethal.
The knife in his hand, he directed toward her as he reached back into the nightstand with his available hand.

"I have something for you.."

Producing a small collar, he grinned as he approached her, gently pressing the tip of the knife to her jugular.

"Don't even think about moving."

Then, he held the knife in his teeth as he worked the collar around her neck; it was a tight fit, evidently intended to be as he could be seen grinning, even with the blade in his mouth. The small loops on the front were intended for a leash of some sort, though for the moment being, he simply hooked his finger underneath the collar as he began pulling while standing.
She struggled, her hands reaching to the collar and to his own hand as she finally got to her feet.

He led her out of the room, his finger still wrapped under the collar, and down the hallway and into the open of the rest of the house. It didn't appear "abandoned" or even unused as he had initially suggested to her those couple nights ago. The lights were on, revealing a rather elegant looking interior, though he did not stop there - he led her into the kitchen. Practically throwing her to the floor, he then kneeled down, though he didn't point the knife at her this time.

"If you want food, you're going to eat what I give you, and enjoy it - understand?"

She didn't nod or even make any indication that she understood or even heard him, that is, until his backhand slapped her across the face.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

He could hear a whimper as she held her face, and quietly held back her sobbing as she nodded. With a scoff, he then stood up and reached into the nearby pantry and produced two items: a plastic bowl and an unlabled can.
First tossing the bowl in front of her, he then crouched in front of her again, holding the unlabled can in front of her.

"No, you have no idea what is in here. I don't have a clue, either. But you're going to eat it, if you really are hungry, right? RIGHT?!"

Quickly, she nodded to which he pulled on the tab on top of the can and opened its contents. He looked in the can and smirked before turning it upside down over the bowl, and watched as its contents dumped into the bowl: ravioli.
"Well, looks like you get to eat something good. Enjoy it."
Reaching over her head, he pulled a length of rope that was dangling on a hook. He then grabbed at her collar and began to thread the rope through the loops before tying her to a wall hook.

"Don't make too much of a mess, either. We just got done showering."

He then stood up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her be on the cold kitchen tile floor.

 

[RotheAllure]

Cold, canned ravioli. That would be her first real meal while in captivity. Cold, canned ravioli. Sara stared at it for what felt like hours. She wanted to tear into it and eat. But she was terrified of making a mess. She had to calm her stomach and her fear before she could.

She didn't even like ravioli, let alone this stuff.

She turned, craning her head back to look at the chain that snaked from the too tight collar that now claimed her throat, to the steel hook in the wall that she was now attached to. Reaching up, Sara tested it, pulling back, seeing if there were any give at all. Setting the food bowl down, she got to her feet. The chain would not allow to take more than a step or two, and nothing was within reach, not a drawer, not a window, not a pan, nothing.

But at least she could see out the window. It was daylight out. Sunny. It looked warm and pretty outside. Grabbing the chain, Sara pulled with all the strength she had, which, given what she had been through, was not all that much. The chain would not give, neither would the hook. She had known that already, but she had to try.

With a sad sigh, she sunk back to the floor. Taking the bowl in hand, Sara carefully ate the ravioli, one peice at a time, until it was gone. She was hungrier than she had thought.

Licking her fingers, she looked around, but even the sink, was out of reach. She would have to beg Him for a drink of water. The thought sickened her. Leaving the bowl in the mid of the floor, she crawled back against the wall, drawing her legs up to her chest, this allowing the chain to hang slack. Her eyes darted back and forth, but there was nothing she could use as a weapon. But then again, what if she did find something and kill Him. She would be chained up here, alone. She would surely die then. She had no options. She was totally in His control.

The house was unusally quiet as she sat there, staring out the window across the kitchen. Were her friends and her Aunt looking for her? Were they frantic? And where was this house? Was it His? She began dwelling on that thought when His words suddenly ran across her mind..

"No, you have no idea what is in here. I don't have a clue, either. But you're going to eat it, if you really are hungry, right? RIGHT?!"

If, If this were His place, His home, would He not know what food He had? In fact, as she thought about those brief moments while He fished around for a bowl and the can, FISHED AROUND, looking as if He were unsure where the food was.

This was NOT His house.

The thought hit her like a bold of lightnening. Who owned this house? And where were they?

That had been an unspoken part of her story. The elderly owners of the house had yet to be found. It was assumed they were indeed dead, thanks to Eric Voss. But bodies had not been found. Neither had any evidence of a murder in the house. Only Sara and Eric's blood had been found when the house had been searched.

But of course she did not know that at this moment. But the thought that He had killed, someone, only made her go pale. What kind of Monster was He? What kind of evil flowed thru His veins?


"The owners" she whispered to herself as she stared out her own kitchen window. "Mr. and Mrs. Vickerson" she again said outloud "I am so sorry for what Eric did to you" She hoped that they could hear her little prayer. She hoped that her killing Eric had brought some peace to the couple, where ever they rested. And she wondered if they suffered, praying that they had not.

Sara ran her fingers along her throat, where the collar once was, the collar that had to be cut off once she was out, and in the hospital. It was funny, she still kept it, a reminder of the horror she went thru, a horror that at least she managed to survive.

Turning from her kitchen window, the sunlight basking her in it's warmth as it shone thru the glass, she thought to go for a ride. She needed some fresh air, desperatly.

 

[The Apparition]

"All right, Saralynn, time to go."

He started as he reentered the kitchen, his fingers making adjustments to the clean clothes he now wore. His eyes looked at her as she was seated, her knees pulled up to her chest; a grin came across his face as he oggled her peeking sex before stepping toward her.

Reaching for the leash, he untied it and began wrapping it around his hand before giving it an aggressive tug and called out to her, "Get up!" Audibly, she gasped for air as he pulled, the collar tightening slightly until she finally climbed to her feet.
He began pulling her along with him, and proceeded toward the back of the house - where he led her, she had no idea.

His free hand reached outward, and pushed on a door that swung open to reveal the outside. There was a crisp coolness that loomed in the air, as his hot breath could be seen while he dragged her outside, offering no covering for her. A barn was just a few yards away, where he was leading her to.

"You're a spoiled brat, aren't you, Saralynn? Mommy and daddy always bought you what you wanted, never made you work for things - especially daddy."

The door swung open as he tugged again on the leash, and pulled her inside - it was empty. He reached toward her collar, as she attempted to lean away - then removed the leash before grabbing her arm, tossing her to the hay-covered ground. She yelped out after landing with a thud, as she probably landed awkwardly, though he cared not as he swung the leash around and cracked it at her.

The loose ends of the leash he made to double as a whip, as he stepped closer to her and cracked the whip once more - this time, the leather of the whip licking her feet.

"I want you to start cleaning this place. Don't even think about asking for a break," though he did motion to a trough, "The only water you'll get is the water left in there."

One had to wonder how even he could actually stomach idea of his torture.

"And remember, Saralynn... I own you. You do what I want, when I want. If I want you to stop and start sucking me off - you'll do it. If you do begin to slow down in your work or do not satisfy me, you will be whipped or marked."

He watched with crazed eyes as she could only stare back, still laying on her back. His eyes wandered over body, licking his lips - she could tell he wanted to let his cock out, have her please him - though he surprisingly refrained from doing so. Instead, he swung the whip around and lashed at her - the ends licking at her thigh this time.

"Do you understand?! Now get to work!"

Almost immediately, she scrambled to her feet and seemed to wander aimlessly, attempting to mask her sobbing - unsure of what to do so as not to displease him. Crack. The whip licked at her ass this time, as she yelped out in pain.

"The rake, you dumb bitch! Get the rake! It's a wonder you made it as far as you did!"

He began stepping around, watching as she fumbled for the rake that lay on the ground before she began raking up the hay. Craning his head slightly, he admired every facet of her body - including the fresh wounds from the whip on her posterior, thigh and feet. Then, he seated himself on top of a bale of hay by a post and watched further.

Cracking the whip every so often when she slowed down, he derived some sort of pleasure out of this form of control. Sometimes, he would lash at her, causing a few more cuts to form; sometimes, he would just crack the whip at the air to get her attention. In about fifteen minutes time, she had nearly every stall removed of straw that formed into a large mound nearest the door. He grinned as sweat was glistening on her body, though goosebumps were also covering her from the coolness that circulated. He hopped off the bale of hay, and set the whip down.

"Sit down," he commanded, indicating toward the pile she was creating. "Better yet, lay down."

His hand began to idly trace the top of his belt, nearing the front of his fly, as if indicating he was going to proceed to have his way with her again. Instead, he glanced about the barn and nodded in approval then walked toward the exit. He did not leave, but rather, reached for something that dangled high with other barnyard utilities.

"This, is a brand." He admired it for a brief moment, staring at the branding mark and smiled before pointing it at her. Although it was mirrored, its marking appeared as "EV".

"Now, I don't know what 'EV' meant to whomever formerly owned this barn.. but it's... appropriate, is it not?"

He thrust it toward her, pressing it on her shoulder - she screamed outloud, expecting a piercing heat to touch her skin. Fortunately for her, the brand was ice cold. He bellowed out in laughter before pulling the brand back and pressing his palm into the mark, idly watching her.

"I've taken 'Eric Voss' as my moniker. As you no doubt know - since you are a smart girl - EV would be my initials, then. And you are in my possession. What do cattlemen do to their cattle when they let them roam free in the fields? Brand them. To let everyone know that cattle is theirs, should it roam free."

Crouching down, he leaned against the metal of the iron brand to balance himself.

"Your brand will come, in due time... Now, get up."

He turned around, reaching for the leash/whip, only to turn around and notice she was missing. A grin formed upon his lips as he noticed the opposing exit door was unlocked and cracked open. She made a daring escape, though had no idea what the repercussions would be if he were to recapture her...

Taking his own time, he walked toward the exit she utilized, and noticed that she was probably no further than a couple hundred yards away, and slowing.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET ANYWHERE, SARA!"

Calmly, he began walking in an opposite direction - toward the front of the house, where he car was parked yet. He got inside, and engaged the ignition before backing out and pointing himself in the direction in which she was running - and quickly shifted the vehicle into gear and peeled out.

Dirt and debris flew every which way until the tires maintained traction and began speeding toward her, he could see her looking back over her shoulder to see the headlights fast approaching. He then pulled alongside her, slowing the vehicle to match her running speed as he rolled the passenger window down.

"Stop this nonsense, Sara! You're going to get yourself hurt!"

He inched the vehicle toward her until she began slowing down more, and finally, slowed to a walk as she attempted to catch her breath. He simply put the car in park and got out, to which she began to run again - he then sped after her, easily catching up to her - and tackling her to the ground.

"I told you, young lady, you're not getting anywhere! You're miles from help!"

He forcibly tied the leash back onto her and pulled her up, and began dragging her back to his car.

"If you'd just listen to me, and realize that you're mine, you'll be alright. But nooo, you've got to cling to the hope that somebody can help you."

Finally getting to his car, he opened the trunk and glanced back, realizing that she had passed out from the pressure of the collar around her neck and his pulling upon it.

"Pathetic," he muttered as he gathered her and closed the trunk, and opened the back passenger door, setting her there, instead.
__________________________________________________

The next time she regained consciousness, she found herself handcuffed to another bed this time. The bed was larger, in a different bedroom that appeared slightly more "homely", quite possibly, the previous tenants room. Her wounds were actually cleaned and bandaged, her body also cleaned and refreshed, a thin sheet covering her. She glanced up, noticing him leaning against the doorway.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Saralynn, you may very well wind up being dead. I don't want it to come to that, but if I have to, I will."

 

[RotheAllure]

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Saralynn, you may very well wind up being dead. I don't want it to come to that, but if I have to, I will."

What, what was He talking about? Her confused mind wondered. She tried to sit up, it not quite registering with her that her wrists, both of them, were cuffed to the headboard of the bed she was laying upon. Her legs, surprisingly, were free, at least at the moment. A quick glance around the room, she trying to place herself, but only confusion clouded her mind.

Where was she now? Was this a different place? A different room? And, again, what was He talking about?

Wait....

The memory flooded her mind, washing over her like an ocean wave. The barn, cleaning the barn, being struck with the leather whip/leash, her attempt to run.

Run...

Escape...

But she had not thought it out. She had run on impluse, and had followed the dirt driveway that lead up to the house. She should have fled into the woods. The darkness, the trees, would have hidden her. She had to plan, meticuously plan, her next escape attempt. He had caught her this time, and allowed her to live. She was sure she would not be so lucky next time.


Sara was driving, slowly, along an unfamiliar road. Her eyes, glazed over, stared forward. It was as if she were not seeing the road before her and indeed that was the case, for a moment later she ran off that road, rolling into a ditch. Sara was pitched forward as the car hit a stand of trees, her widening eyes closing before her head smacked into the windshield, effectively knocking her out.


He was walking toward her.

"no... NO... PPPPlease" the frightened girl begged. "What do You want with me, please" but her cries, her beggings, her pleadings, did not deter Him. He came closer to her.

Before her eyes flashed the horrific memories of Him raping her, marking her, the blade sinking into flesh, choking her until she almost passed out, only to allow her to breathe again, breathe and feel, whipping her with the leather leash, chasing her as she tried to escape.

Sara, for the moment, was trapped in her tortured memories, where Eric could torment her yet again.

She tried to cower back on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her mind was desperately trying to think of what to do, what to do to stop Him from hurting her again.

"ppplease don't hurt me again, please, I.... I'll do whatever You want Eric, please"

 

[The Apparition]

Slowly he crept closer to the bed where he had her handcuffed, the thin white sheet covering her naked body.

"Ppplease don't hurt me again, please, I.... I'll do whatever You want Eric, please"

His hand reached up to his lips as he gently wiped away at the saliva forming as his mouth seemed to literally water at the thought of her. Then he reached down, his hand grabbing a handful of the sheet before pulling it away, revealing her naked body. Even he was beginning to lose track of the days... was it day five? Or day seven?

Then that evil smile formed upon his lips as he looked her body up and down before meeting her tear-welled eyes.

"Yes. That's right, you will do whatever I want."

He leaned close to her sex and then slowly his nose crept along her body as he inhaled her scent. His hand then began brushing through her fiery mane as he reached with his free hand into the back of his pants pocket.

"...And you know what you're gonna do?"

Revealing the small key to the handcuffs in his hand, he began to remove the steel that bit at her wrists.

"I'm gonna strip. And I'm gonna get in that bed with you. You're gonna get on top of me and ride me. Ride me until I tell you to stop. If you stop before I tell you to, you won't make me very happy."

He could feel his cock beginning to twitch under his pants, just at the thought of her impaling herself upon his stiffness. A though that prompted him, in fact, to begin stripping down - first, his shirt revealing his hard chest. He kept one half of the handcuffs on her, so that she couldn't simply attempt to run out of the bedroom as he stripped.

Next, his pants came off, along with his boxer shorts to reveal that he was sporting a half hard-on already as he began to climb onto the bed. She began to move to the end of the bed, wanting to steer herself away from him in any way that she could, but the look in his eye was wild. He snapped his fingers, indicating for her to find her place, as he found himself lying comfortably on the bed.

"Get on, Saralynn."

He reached over and grabbed her arm and pulled her over him, though her arm was twisted slightly as she was still handcuffed as though she were lying on her back. Reaching above himself with her arm in hand, he completely removed the handcuff and then repositioned her hands relatively comfortable over his head.

Click. Click.

The handcuffs were back on her wrists, as he even squeezed upon them so that the steel was biting into her skin again. He looked up to her with a grin, a full-blown hard-on now rubbing against her smooth ass.

"Get on it, Sara. Start fucking me, if you don't want to get hurt."

 

[RotheAllure]

Oh God....

Oh God... He wanted her to, to.....

He wanted her to rape herself on Him !

Rape herself... and He wanted her to enjoy it !

She wasn't sure she could do this. She had never ridden a man before. In all honesty, she had never even thought about it, not yet at least. Oh she had thought about sex, but her imagination had yet to blossom, riding a man had not yet found it's way in there.

Before He had even released her handcuffs, she felt the tears burning in her eyes. But she fought the urge to cry, she would not cry, NO!!

Sara cowered at the corner of the bed, as far away from Him as the remaining cuff would let her. She did not watch while He stripped, tho He was hard to miss, He was right in front of her and the room itself was sparse. She was too scared to fully look away, she did not want to anger Him by letting Him see she was trying to ignore His nakedness.

"Get on, Saralynn."

She wanted to scream out NO, beg Him to leave her alone, to kill her or let her go. But she could only whimper as He grabbed her one free arm and yanked her over to Him, she nearly falling across His prone body. Her shoulder and arm were twisting painfully, and she ended up straddling Him, just as He wished, to take the pressure off.

A moment later and He had free'd and recuffed her, her wrists pressed close together over His head, the metal biting into the skin. She already was bruised there, this only made it hurt worse.

"Get on it, Sara. Start fucking me, if you don't want to get hurt."

She could not stop the tears then, wet and hot, falling down her cheeks, even tho she managed to stay silent.

Shimmying down just a little, her sex poised over His cock. She was bone dry, and scared to even try to settle upon the rock hard length that He now sported, it standing up from His body.

"please Eric, I, I need to be, slick, can You, can You touch me first?"

GOD she hated begging for that, begging for the Monster who was raping her, holding her captive, begging Him to touch her and arouse her, only so she could rape herself, without as much pain, upon His cock.

His smile was nothing short of sinister.

His hand snaking down between her legs, those fingers finding her pussy. Saralynn did not want to feel pleasure at His touch, she did not want her body to react, but she knew it would, and she knew in the end this would make her impaling herself easier. Her entire form moved as He stroked her, hips rolling to His hand, the fluids beginning to flow, warm, wet, slippery.

She hated herself at that moment. Hated herself and hated Him.

 

[The Apparition]

"Please Eric, I, I need to be, slick, can You, can You touch me first?"

That Cheshire-like smile forming upon his face as tears streaked down her cheeks, some even dripping onto his chest. His eyes narrowed, focusing up at her.

"I should tell you "no", and have you fuck me anyway..."

Slowly then, his hand reached down.

"But it gives me great satisfaction that you're begging me for this."

He watched as she rolled her hips with his touch, gently touching her clitoris and even rubbing inside of her pussy. He let out with a laugh,

"You are a dirty whore!"

With his other hand, he reached down and grabbed a hold of his cock, rubbing the head between the lips of her pussy - teasing, watching as the head of his cock began to glisten with her juices. He groaned in pleasure as he dug his fingers inward again, and pulled them out, now covered in her juices.
His hand slowly reached up to her mouth.

"Taste yourself, Sara."

Practically forcing his fingers into her mouth, he laughed at her intial reaction, all the while rubbing the belly of his cock against her pussy still.

"You're ready," he said matter-of-factly as his hands groped her breasts.

 

[RotheAllure]

"I should tell you "no", and have you fuck me anyway..."
Slowly then, his hand reached down.

"But it gives me great satisfaction that you're begging me for this."

He made her sick, everything about Him made her sick, but what was worse was she made herself sick. She was begging Him, and what was worse, at least in her own mind was that her body did become aroused as He touched her. She rolled along His hand, her wetness dripping from her within only a few moments.

"You are a dirty whore!"

That made her hiss in her breath, desperate to stop the anguished cry that threatened to erupt forth. He pushing His fingers inside of her, brought that cry from her, she gasping, going still for a moment as He violated her, His fingers soaked with her own arousal. She was a dirty whore, she was !!!

"Taste yourself, Sara."

His fingers slipped from her pussy, only to rape her mouth, the sweetness forced along her tongue. She wanted to gag, but could not, instead suckling on His fingers as He declared that she was "ready" for Him.

Ready

Ready to rape herself.

Ready to humiliate herself.

Ready to impale herself.

All for Him.

He was rubbing His cock now, along her dripping slit, her own body responding by rocking slowly. Already her arms hurt, being chained before her, she could not straighten, instead she was bent over Him. His hands came to rest upon her swinging breasts. She couldn't stop the tears that came, at just that small act. Sara felt dirty, slimey, all over as He groped her, fondled her, pinching her swelling nipples, rolling them between His fingers.

She tried to pull back from His touch, tried to pull up just a little, and in doing that, her hips lowered. She felt the head of Him pushing against the folds of her sex, then He *popped* inside her as His smooth head alined with the entrance to her pussy. Sara gasped, biting at her lower lip, and slid down His length. She was vice tight, the muscles opening only enough to let Him within before closing around Him. Every beat of her heart could be felt in that heated, wet embrace. She hung her head and cried as she fully impaled herself upon her Tormentor, her Captor. Her own fluides coating Him, slick and warm, thick droplets sliding down to tickle His balls.

For a moment she did not move, was almost afraid to move. But His words echoed in her mind. "You're gonna get on top of me and ride me. Ride me until I tell you to stop. If you stop before I tell you to, you won't make me very happy."

Swallowing, not looking at His face, but instead just staring downwards, not seeing anything in her misery, she began to move upon Him. Slowly, at first. It was obvious she was not familiar with what she was doing, what she had to do, but the tightness massaged Him as she tried to do what she had been told.

What made her feel the most disgusting was the fact that deep within her body, this was beginning to feel... good.

 

[The Apparition]

His eyes lit up with excitement as his cock slid in, slowly her body lowering upon his length.

"Ooh.. you feel so tight, Sara! It's a completely different satisfaction from me simply fucking you.."

A quiet groan left his voice as he leaned forward, his hands emcompassing one breast while allowing his tongue to flicker upon the sensitive nub before he crudely began suckling on it. He allowed for his hands to slowly glide down her body, resting upon her hips as she slowly began to raise herself off him - and then slowly lowering herself.

He could have swore he popped her the first time, but perhaps he hadn't pressed himself completely. She grimaced in uncomfortable pain - her awkward position, the cuffs, his cock bulging inside of her. He reached his hand downward again, crudely rubbing upon her clitoris to coax more of her arousal, which he was successful in doing so.

She arched her back as he massaged at her clit, the metal of the handcuffs clanging against the metal of the headboard. He slowly withdrew his hand as she sighed, slowly impaling herself once more upon him - a small trace of blood on his fingers. He began to laugh sadistically.

"My God, Saralynn... did I just pop your cherry?"

His green eyes, filled with lust and derangement watched her as she glanced at his finger covered in the light amount of blood and began to sob. Her movements began to slow, to which he reached up with that same hand and pulled on her fiery red hair.

"Do not stop, Saralynn!"

His hips even began to buck slightly against her, the bed squeaking slightly. As if unable to bear it any longer, his hands gripped her hips as he elevated her slightly, and slowly began to thrust himself inside of her. It only prompted further sobbing as he gaped his mouth open in the anticipation, the clapping of their skins becoming music to his ears. Within mere moments, he was pistoning inside of her with vigorous force, his hands grabbing a handful of her ass.

"This is how it should be done, Sara! Now finish it!"

The pistoning action promptly ended as he relaxed himself into the mattress.

"Ride me until I cum inside of you!"

She eventually continued as he ordered.

"Yes... keep going, my whore. Faster. You want me to cum inside of you."

It seemed when he was sexually gratifying himself with her, she became his "whore". When he would abuse her, she became his "pet" or a "posession" of sorts. This lunatic of a man could care less what kind of life she had before encountering him, all he cared about at this point and time was fucking her. To fill her with his vile seed...

 

[RotheAllure]

"Ooh.. you feel so tight, Sara! It's a completely different satisfaction from me simply fucking you.."

His words were sickening to her. She could feel her stomach churn for a moment as the words left His lips. She said nothing in return, but her misery and shame was certainly written all over her pretty face, even her long red hair, tendrils hanging down before her eyes, could not hide her utter humiliation, or her hatred for the Man beneath her.

He suckling her breasts, her nipples swollen, tender. The sensation was a crude mingling of pleasure, for the warmth of His mouth and the pressure of His suckling did illicit a pleasing sensation, and revulsion, which sent a chilled shiver thru her. Never mind the fact that she was again lowering down upon His cock, He filling her with His length, even tho she was not coming down entirely, desperate to hold back, not let Him that deep.

She was trembling, trying to keep from moaning or crying, and she again hesitated upon Him. His hand slipped down between her parted legs, starting that obscene stroking again. She shook her head no, wanting Him to stop, yet her back arched, she crying out to the caress, His fingers manipulating her clit, she hissing in her breath as her body tried to rock to His hand once more. Her clit was so swollen and sensative that she bit her lower lip painfully to keep from begging Him to continue. His other hand rested on her hip and He thrust upwards.

Deep inside Saralynn, she felt something tearing, opening. A pink lacing of blood flowed as He pushed deeper into her quivering sex, realizing that when He fucked her on the bed, and in the shower, in His rush for pleasure, He may have torn her hymen, but had not broken thru completely, not til now.

"My God, Saralynn... did I just pop your cherry?"

She began to cry, warm tears flowing down her cheeks. Her dreams of making love for the very first time, with her husband, the man she loved, whoever that may have been, on her wedding night, of giving her virginity as a gift, a precious gift, once again were ripped away from her. Just as He had torn them from her on the bed, and in the shower. All while He laughed under her, the sound was foul and wicked, and she could only groan and cry in response.

"no..nooooo oh God, noooo"

He wrapping His hand into her long hair.. "Do not stop, Saralynn!"

He grabbed her, taking control for the moment, holding her over His cock, her shoulders strained, the metal of the handcuffs biting deeper into her wrists. She was soaking wet, and He used the slickness of her now fully opened cunt to begin His rape of her anew. He thrust up and into her, ramming, His hips bucking violently as He used her pussy. Those silken walls grasping at Him, massaging, spasming, embracing Him in response, the whole of her form shuddering upon Him, she leaning forward, head down, almost on His shoulder. If it weren't for the fact that she were handcuffed and crying, one would think they were 2 lovers in the intense grip of lovemaking.

But this was not lovemaking.

This was rape, pure and simple.

"This is how it should be done, Sara! Now finish it!"
The pistoning action promptly ended as he relaxed himself into the mattress.
"Ride me until I cum inside of you!"

Oh God, He wanted to fill her again, fill her with His foul, vile, tainted seed. She shook at that thought, and another, more sinister thought crept into her mind in that moment. What if, what if she got...................................................pregnant???!!!

He had already spilled His seed inside her when in the shower.

"no No.. please Eric.. DON'T... Don't cum inside me again" she pleaded, but, as she began to move upon Him, her body swaying, her hips rolling forward and up and back down again, not nearly at the hard speed He had been taking her, but surely the pressure, the sensations of her pussy rolling upon Him like this was..enticing.. He seemed not to hear her begging cry.

She pulled on the cuffs, desperate to straighten and unable to. His cock felt so swollen and big inside her, every time she bucked atop Him it felt as if He were impaling her deeper, shocks of pain and pleasure were racing thru her as His deeply imbedded cock hit her cervix, the head nudging that tight muscle.

"Yes... keep going, my whore. Faster. You want me to cum inside of you."

She violently shook her head NO as she rode Him, unable to stop, to afraid to stop, her body flooding her sex with heated slick fluid, coating Him, dripping down to His balls. Her skin was flush, her face flush, her eyes closed. She just wanted it to be over. Just let it be over.

She did not see Him reach His hand down once more to caress her clit, she did not realize what He was doing until she felt it, a lightening strike of pleasure that made her arch back as far as she could and scream out, gasping.

"no, NO, OH GOD NO" she fought it, struggled against it, with every fiber of her being, shaking her head, biting her lip as she groaned in abject pleasure at the sensations that were now racing uncontrolled thru her.

She tightened, her body went nearly rigid, as she screamed out in anguish, anguish and pleasure as she came.... He had made her climax, her orgasm shaking thru her, her pussy spasming, clenching, tightening around His length. Tears freely flowed as Sara orgasmed upon the cock of her rapist.

"Nooooo" Her voice filled with disgust and shame.

 

[The Apparition]

Her cries only excited him further, his cock engorging further blood as it seemed to swell further, his length even beginning to twitch as he could feel the arousal between them both - even if forced. What seemed to make it all the more pleasurable was the way her pussy seemed to have a vise-like grip upon him, creating new sensations.

His hands roamed her body, caressing and violating her where they eventually came to press up against her breasts, forcing her to continue her 'ride'. Watching, his eyes closing shut as he seemed to take in that visual - her tear streaked face, combined with the wretch and pleasure that seemed to encompass her.

"That's it, Sara! That's it! Keep going, baby!"

Then sliding his hands down her sides, he came to grab at her ass, his fingers digging into the skin. Occasionally, he would slide himself in further as she would lower herself upon him. She wanted to stop, so much he could tell, but he wouldn't allow her to. His eyes opened again, looking down to where their sexes were joined, watching as traces of precum mixed with her juices to form a white substance upon the base of his cock.

"You're almost there, baby. You know you want me to cum inside of you!"

His words echoed continuously as he slightly lifted his hips into the air, allowing for himself to occasionally buck his hips into her. He wanted to confuse her, to make her believe that she wanted this - that she was destined to be his. For whatever it was in his preverse nature, he had chosen her as his prey. To be his for as long as he would have her - only to leave in her mind what would happen to her once he was finished with her.

Groaning now, the heat eminating and the sweat forming upon their bodies, he began to pant loudly as she seemed to grow tired. No doubt in his mind, he pondered that her sex was beginning to feel raw, her legs tired from constantly having to elevate herself off of him. Hell, his own cock was beginning to feel almost as if it were chafing, as he would torture her by leaking precum and then stopping just before he would feel the urge to want to cum.
When he would stop, he would look up to her, though her gaze seemed as if it were staring right back at him - she was staring right past him, wanting to forget his image with all her mind. It was perhaps his words that seemed to cause the most pain:

"Yeah, this load's gonna be hot and big... you're gonna love it, whore.."

Without hesitation, his hands again grabbed into ass as he began pistoning himself furiously. His balls slapped widly against the bottom of her rear, his moaning now becoming loud groans as he tensed - and then, with an impassioned yell...

"FUCK YES, SARA! KEEP FUCKING ME!"

He sunk into the bed, as he commanded her to take over, which she seemed hesitant to do through her sobbing. A sort of 'squishing' noise was created as she impaled herself every once in a while, his massive load leaking out from her pussy. His body even literally began to twitch as she would bounce atop of him, every once in a while a small spurt of his seed would spit out until he felt that he could no longer bear it.

Both hands slowly reached up to her shouldes as she forced herself to continue, until he uttered a quiet, "Stop... you've... done well."

He slowly withdrew, some of his seed even slopping out of her raw sex and onto his body until he crawled from underneath her. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he looked back to her as he sat upon the edge of the bed, her body still leaning uncomfortably. With a grin, he swatted at her ass before standing from the bed and starting for the door.

"Very well, indeed, Saralynn.. Now think about what you've done."

He left her in the room alone. With their sweat and false passion, still handcuffed to the bed and with his seed spread on the sheets, inside of her. He wanted to leave her in the moment to realize that she was alone, and that he wanted to impregnate her - to make her think it was her doing.

 

[RotheAllure]

Sara felt the heat flood into her, that warm splash of His seed, coating her insides, her sex, her cervix, and God help her, her womb. She screamed into the dark room "Noooooo GOD Nooooo" over and over again, but to Him, those were nothing more than words of encouragement, words of passion, lust. In His warped mind, she was begging for more, pleading for Him to fill her again, and again, and again.

"Stop... you've... done well."

He slowly withdrew, some of his seed even slopping out of her raw sex and onto his body until he crawled from underneath her. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he looked back to her as he sat upon the edge of the bed, her body still leaning uncomfortably. With a grin, he swatted at her ass before standing from the bed and starting for the door.

"Very well, indeed, Saralynn.. Now think about what you've done."

He left her in the room alone. With their sweat and false passion, still handcuffed to the bed and with his seed spread on the sheets, inside of her. He wanted to leave her in the moment to realize that she was alone, and that he wanted to impregnate her - to make her think it was her doing.

She was still handcuffed to the headboard of the bed. She fell forward, unable to stay upon her knees any longer. She was exhausted, but the position hurt her shoulders and arms, she struggling to her knees once more, finally finding some comfort by moving closer to the headboard and leaning her body against it. She was sobbing, no, not just sobbing, she was crying. Crying and praying, praying that His seed would not take hold, that she was not fertile, that He would not do the unthinkable and impregnate her.

And she had let Him. She had cum for Him, her body responding, her body wanting Him, wanting His seed, to fertilize her egg. Ohhhh God... what if .... what.... if....

She cried yet again, alone, cuffed to His bed. Knowing her prayers would not be answered.



Sara startled awake, blinking into the harsh light that glared down at her. Where was she?? She tried to sit up, but was restrained, and she completely panicked.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, her anguished cries brought the nurse and the Doctor.

"Calm down Sara, Calm down" his voice was reassuring, but Sara did not hear the Doctor's voice, she heard Eric's. All she knew was that she was restrained, again. "PPPPLEASE... LET ME GO" she cried, her body writhing and jerking, she desperate to break the hold the restraints had on her.

"SARALYNN"

She stopped, staring upwards, her eyes unfocused, non-blinking. "Saralynn!!!" The Doctor trying to get thru whatever mental barrier was buried deep inside her mind.

The Doctor shook his head as her eyes rolled back and she slipped back into unconsciousness. He was worried. The car accident had been minor, but she had been slipping in and out of this dreamlike state for 2 days now. At times screaming at the very top of her lungs, at other times crying and begging. He knew who she was, knew her story, everyone did. He had even seen the commercial for the movie based on what had happened to her.



"Saralynn, I am so sorry, but you are indeed pregnant." She was now sitting before another Doctor, in his small office. His medical awards and the like blanketing the walls around her. "you are indeed pregnant" the words flooded her mind. This was only 3 months after her escape. After the death of Eric Voss.

Her period, her period had never come, not the month after her escape, or the month after that, or the 3rd month. Terrified, she had managed to drag herself, alone, to the Doctor.

Now she was sitting and getting the worse news she ever could get.

She was pregnant, with the bastard child of Eric Voss, her rapist, her torturer.

Saralynn fainted.

Of course this part was also included in the movie. The movie, as a matter of fact, ended with her abortion, which she had within days of finding out her condition.

The child was an abomination, the embodiment of a monster.

Why then did she feel..................... guilty.




When she awoke again, she blinking into those harsh lights once more, this time she did not panic. She was still restrained. Apparently in her unconsciousness, she had railed and thrashed, screaming and begging, crying and moaning. She must have been quite the spectacle, she thought to herself. How long, how long had she been there??

4 days, the Doctor, once summoned, answered. He was glad that she was finally lucid.

But Sara wished she had sunk into the oblivioin of madness.

 

[The Apparition]

CRACK.

The sounds of the whip licking against her skin. She must have done something to upset him.

CRACK.

"You enjoy the pain, don't you, Saralynn? I can tell you're getting off on it!"

It was day nine, and he had her restrained to a large hallway passage. Her legs dangled inches off the ground, her wrists bound by rope that burned into her skin. He stepped close to her, and reached his hand to her rear and wiped away a streak of blood. He, himself, was actually naked as well - almost as if he figured clothing at this point was pointless.

Her breathing was heavy, sobbing from the pain of the whipping. He smiled as he reached in between her legs and groped her before pressing his fingers inside of her. After a brief struggle, he pulled his hand from her and stepped back to whip her once more - she immediately froze in the pain so that he could approach her once more. He stuck the hand that he had placed in between her legs in front of her face, it was wet.

"See? You're getting off on it, whore!"

With an evil laughter he bit at her shoulder before stepping back, dropping the whip to the ground. He began whistling as he walked away. There was only one other instance where he had done so... Suddenly, the sound of a blade being removed from its sheath could be heard as he walked around and stepped in front of her. He had that knife in hand again, with that crazed look in his eye.

He could see as she began to struggle, wanting to be removed of her binds. Her feet kicked around as she predicted what it was he was up to - he was going to leave a mark. Craning his head slightly he seemed to take notice of an area that drew special attention to him, for whatever reason.

"Yes, that'll do nicely.." he said quietly to himself.

Stepping closer now, he swatted at her feet as she attempted to ward him off. The one hand held the knife as the other reached at her until he simply brought her close to his body. His cock seemed to stiffen slightly as he pressed against her elevated sex, his eyes staring directly into her own. The knife lowered out of sight...

"Saralynn... Saralynn... if you struggle, you'll only make it worse! Remember what happened with the barn?"

As she seemed to reflect on the matter, he suddenly dug the blade into her flesh, at the curve of her hip. His green eyes continued to look into her own, watching as the pain took her - the tears welling in her eyes. He slowly pulled it downward before making a quick upstroke, leaving another "check" on her body. Pulling the blade away, he then brought it up for her to see the blood that stained the tip of the blade. Worse yet, he then began grinding his hips against her, as if attempting to arouse himself.

He laughed before releasing her and stepping back.

"No, Sara. No cock right now. You'll get it later."

He mocked her, as if she were the one wanting all of this upon her.

And then, he turned the lights off. It was dark, and quiet. The ninth day was over...
______________________________________________________________

His voice seemed like a whisper: "Saralynn... why did you kill our child?"

 

[RotheAllure]

CRACK

Another kiss of pain seared into her skin

CRACK

The leather whip danced over her flesh, slicing, drawing rivulets of blood that criss crossed her skin as the trails laced downwards

CRACK

She shuddered, her voice nearly gone from screaming, begging, crying, her breathing ragged as she panted, head hanging down, long red hair, dulled, limp, shrouding her tear stained face.

Her arms and shoulders ached, she suspended by a hook in the ceiling, the rope about her tightly bound wrists hungrily biting into the already raw and bruised skin. She could get no relief for her shoulders, arms, wrists with her feet, both dangled just above the floor.

She was tense and shaking, waiting for the next strike. That horrible sound, and worse, the burning pain when the lash kissed her body.

"You enjoy the pain, don't you, Saralynn? I can tell you're getting off on it!"

Violently, Sara shook her head, unable to gain enough breath to even whisper the word no.

But her voice indeed came back when He crudely thrust His fingers up and inside her. Her back arching, the cry slipping from her lips.

"See? You're getting off on it, whore!"

God help her, she was wet. Her pussy, her sex, was wet, warm. But it was not from arousal more than it was from conditioning. Just like Pavlov's dogs, who were conditioned to salivate even when no food was present, just the sound of the buzzer, bell, whatever it was, would start the dogs drooling. Sara was becoming conditioned. Her body was becoming used to being raped, over and over, her body was preparing, and responding to what would eventually happen.

He saw it as her, getting off, on what was currently happening.

Yet, she felt like the whore He was calling her. She didn't want her body to respond, to become wet, aroused,
heated.

"God help me" she managed to whisper, just as He turned away, whistling....

Whistling...

Oh God, He was whistling...

Sara went still, trying to calm herself, desperate to calm herself. She heard that soft, chilling sound, as the blade slid free of the sheathe.

Saralynn kicked, screamed, both in terror and in pain, but to no avail. He again sliced into her flesh, upon her hip this time, marking her, marking her as His property, the blade slicing, the pain radiating thru her, the warm flow of blood trickling down the curve of her hip, Him standing before her, pressing against her, one hand holding her steady in her binding, the blade, now stained with her blood, held before her face.

Obscenely He ground against her, rocking His naked body along her own, she shaking in response, tears once more, she wondered how she had anymore, racing down her cheeks.

"No, Sara. No cock right now. You'll get it later."

Sara shot Him a look, a look that if it were any way possible to kill someone with a look, this one would have struck Him dead.

She was left in the darkness, still suspended by her wrists, over her head, in that hallway. The sound of His footsteps faded, until she surmised He had sat, or laid down. She thought she heard the whine of a TV as it was turned on, and the very faint mumble of voices.

Sara closed her eyes as her 9th day with Eric Voss ended, altho she had no idea at this point, how long she had been there, how long she had been missing, she wasn't even sure what time of day it was.

The darkness was welcomed, no matter her pain, her despair, her shame.


The darkness was welcomed


The darkness was welcomed



"Saralynn... why did you kill our child?"

She sat bolt upright, a nearly savage scream knotted in her throat, wanting to rip free, to escape, to echo in the darkness that surrounded her. She managed, by slapping her own hand over her mouth, to stay blessedly silent, the scream nearly choking her.

There were no harsh, bright lights this time, no bindings on her wrists, no concerned nurses milling about the room.
Only the darkness, the welcomed darkness..
Or was it. The darkness brought on the dreams, the memories, and now.....

now...

The whispers...

"Saralynn... why did you kill our child?"

"Sssstop it" she groaned, her hands covering her ears as she rocked in the hospital bed "SSSStop IT. LEAVE ME ALONE"

Her cry brought the opening of the door, that harsh light was outside, wanting in, and streamed in when the Doctor entered.

"Saralynn... why did you kill our child?"

The Doctor approached her. Funny, He did not turn the light on, and the room was again bathed in darkness when the door swung shut. But that was not what made Sara scream. No, that was not it.

It was the nametag on His jacket that she had gotten a fleeting glance at in the light, just before the door thudded closed.

Dr. E.Voss

Her scream was so loud that it brought several Doctors and nurses running. She was screaming almost continuously, and trying to attack the Doctor, or was it trying to reel back from Him. All any could see was her arms flailing, she kicking, and... she certainly was screaming.

She was given the shot to silence her, that is after several nurses and orderlies had to hold her down, her cries finally fading into nothing more than soft whimpers...

Soft begging whimpers..



Soft begging...


"Eric" her voice was weak, trembling, barely audible.

"Eric, please, please, don't leave me up here like this, please" quietly Sara pleaded into the darkness.

She had awakened, still hanging in that hallway, naked, dried blood lacing her body, pain, dull, insistant, coursing thru her.

"Please Eric, let me down, pppplease" She did not even have enough strength to lift her head when she heard what she thought, was Him, approaching.

"Eric"

 

[The Apparition]

He watched, with a thump as she fell to the floor before he sheathed the large knife he had used to cut her down. She didn't even seem to immediately react to the fall, just merely laying there on the ground as she seemingly stared up at the ceiling. Stuffing the knife into the pocket of a pair of sweat pants he had put on, he crouched next to her, leaning his head just over her face as he broke her gaze.

"It seems mommy or daddy or somebody has yet to give up on you, which is quite surprising."

She didn't respond or react, which seemed to prompt a scowl from him, then brought the back of his hand across her face. Before she could bring her hand to her face in that natural reaction, he reached to her face and grabbed her by the mouth.

"You're not going anywhere, and I'll kill you before anybody has a chance to figure out where you are - so don't go getting any ideas or getting your hopes up."

Forcibly, he released his grasp before standing upright.

"Get up."

He was visibly tired, lines forming just below reddened eyes. Had he even been sleeping at all? Clearly irritated by her lack of haste, he walked over to the nearby fireplace - where a collection of assorted swords hanged - and reached for the katana. He lunged at her with the blade, attempting to stab her in the abdomen, though in her movement, he instead caught the inside of her thigh.

She let out with a panicked yelp, placing her hand over the wound. With a laugh he slowly approached her as she attempted to squirm away.

"That will leave a nice one.. NOW GET UP!"

He extended the katana at her again as she struggled to her feet, still wanting to protect the fresh wound. Lowering the blade ever slightly, he motioned for her to move down the hall - with the flat of the blade, he lightly swatted at her behind.

"Move."

Resting the sword on his shoulder, he followed behind her until they came to the previous room where he had her force herself upon him. The handcuffs hung freely on the bar headboard of the bed, though they wouldn't be for long as he indicated her on the bed. Setting katana aside, he grabbed her wrists and began to handcuff her to the bed again. Without a word, he grabbed the katana and made his exit. In his haste (and possibly his weariness), he had forgotten to completely latch one of the cuffs.

When he came back into the bedroom, medical supplies in hand - presumably to "tend" to the wounds he had given her - he noticed she was sitting upright. One hand was free as she pulled on the other cuff, though each time she did, she winced in pain at the tenderness of her wrists.

"And just what in the hell do you think you're doing, Saralynn?"