A Tied That Binds Pt. 01

"Get off me!" Callie yelled in his face. "I swear I'll scream!" He smirked as he doubled his right fist in her blouse and yanked, tearing the flimsy fabric halfway to her navel and baring the lacy bra that covered her breasts. Callie's eyes widened in horror and she opened her mouth to let out a scream, but his hand cracked across her face, stunning her. The metallic taste of blood filling her mouth was from her lower lip, which split open upon impact with her teeth.

"The only screaming you're gonna be doing is when I stick my cock in your tight little pussy and fuck you hard bitch," he said, smiling down at her. As if to emphasize his point, he ground his erect cock against her thigh.

This assault cleared Callie's head long enough for her to try another scream, but he was ready for that one too. This time, it wasn't a slap but a flat-out punch; his knuckles slamming hard into the side of her face threw her head back against the unyielding asphalt and sent her spinning back into disorientation.

Taking advantage of her fleeting stillness, the man started roughly squeezing her breast with one hand and unbuttoning her jeans with the other. The tight denim resisted his attack, leading to several loud curses as he fought with the tough fabric.

Eventually, he managed to slide his fingers into her panties, mauling her with rough dirty hands as he tried to push into her still-dry sheath. The force of his attack crushed painfully against her clitoris, bringing tears to Callie's eyes as she recovered her senses. He repositioned himself, pressing her into the ground with his weight even as he fought with her jeans and struggled to impale her pussy on his fingers.

"Yeah, you like that, bitch, don't you?" he said, removing his hand from her bruised and aching breast and reaching down to free his bulging erection.

Callie lay still, pretending she was knocked out, fighting the urge to move as she felt the man above her lewdly trying to shove his fingers into her. If she could move at just the right time, she might be able to knee him in the balls and run. She could feel him panting over her. When she made no move to fight him any further, he lifted himself off her, pulled his hand out from her crotch, and began the task of pulling her jeans off.

The cool misty rain dropped down, soothing her aching face as she barely opened her eyes to watch his progress. Cursing again, the inebriated man spread his legs while bracing himself, as he began tugging on her wet jeans.

'Right place, right time,' thought Callie as she rammed her good knee upward, connecting solidly with his crotch. The man howled with pain and rolled off her.

"YOU FUCKING CUNT!" he roared, grabbing himself and moaning. Callie didn't waste time. Rolling to her knees and then lurching to her feet, she pulled her pants up without bothering to button them, or close her ripped shirt, as she ran like the wind.

Relief swept over her as she ran around the corner and almost collided headlong into one of the startled valets.

"Please help me!" Callie said as calmly as she could under the circumstances. "There's a man back there and he just tried to rape me. Please, can you call the police?"

The valet took in her appearance from her open shirt and black bra, to her battered and bruised face. "Calm down lady," he said in a soothing voice. "Show me where this guy's at."

"What?" Callie said in disbelief. "Can't you just call the cops?"

"Please, ma'am, let's go back, and take care of this, okay?" he said. Without waiting for a response, he headed in the direction Callie had just come from. Callie stood stock-still in shock. The valet paused and looked back in exasperation.

"Come on lady, I can't leave you here alone. Let me help you, I'll deal with this guy."

Noting the size of the valet (did this guy double as bouncer?), and nodding, Callie followed. As they rounded the corner, she saw that the man she had just gotten away from was leaning against an old pick-up truck that she had overlooked earlier. He was still slightly bent over and the cigarette he was holding was trembling in his fingers. His cock, now flaccid, was still hanging out of his jeans.

This wasn't right, not right at all. A new wave of fear clenched at her. She had to get out of here.

Turning Callie started to run back the way she came, but she didn't get very far before being tackled for the second time that night, this time by the valet. The impact of the ground on her sore knee flooded her with scalding pain.

"Oh, no, you don't," he said, and the full weight of the situation hit Callie like a Mack truck. Whoever these guys were, they were working together, and now Callie was outnumbered and her chances of escaping just went down to zero.

"Fucking bitch, nearly de-balled me, where the fuck you been Mark?" the man said throwing his cigarette down and glaring at Callie.

"Got held up inside, there were some other...er...issues," Said the valet named Mark, grinning down at Callie. He laughed crudely, "Looks like you got you a fighter here Jimmy, you'll have fun breaking this one in."

"Knew it from the moment I saw her," said the man named Jimmy proudly.

Callie, keeping her head turned to the side so she didn't have to look at either man, felt like she was going to be sick. This couldn't be real! 'Please let this all be a nightmare' she thought desperately. 'I must have had too much to drink in the club, and now I'm just passed out and having a bad dream.' Callie willed herself to believe it, but she knew it wasn't true. One Long Island, even for a lightweight, doesn't cause this sort of alcoholic hallucination.

"Think I'll teach her a little lesson right now," said Jimmy maliciously.

"Hey Bitch!"

Callie ignored him and twisted her whole body away from him, struggling under the weight of Mark as he held her down and prevented her escape. She wasn't going to be a play object in these sick bastards' games. The struggle caused her knee to ache, but the pain was washed away in a sheet of white-hot agony as Jimmy kicked her hard in the back, landing the toe of his cowboy boot directly over her kidney. In pain, she rolled onto her back, trying to curl up and hug herself. Mark's weight prevented the instinctive coiling of her body.

"Hold her arms up above her head now Mark; I'm gonna fuck this little cunt real good." Her eyes tightly shut against the pain, Callie felt Mark move to kneel straddle-legged across her chest, freeing her legs. Her arms were pulled up above her head as Jimmy yanked her pants down again. She couldn't fight them anymore, this was too much. Maybe when they'd finished they'd kill her, so she wouldn't have to live with this night branded into her mind forever.

Jimmy proved that he could learn from earlier mistakes. Keeping himself well out of range of her knees and feet, he pulled off her long black leather Rockport La Prele Lane boots, and then tugged down her jeans and lace panties. Moving to one side, he grinned at her evilly, showing his engorged cock to the trapped girl. The defeat in her eyes as she turned her head away made his smile even bigger. Callie bit her lip as Jimmy moved back to her legs and spread them wide, and her body tensed up as she waited for the painful penetration that she knew was about to come.

Hovering over her, the tip of his cock made contact with her clitoris and began brushing across her sand-dry cleft.

Then a truly unexpected sound met her ears. It was the sound of a shotgun being cocked and it came from somewhere out of her line of sight.

"Get off her, Jimmy," said a voice she had no trouble distinguishing.

It was the good-looking guy from the bar, but Callie's heart sank. He knew these men; he was a part of this.

"The fuck Jake," said Jimmy. "Can't a guy get some pussy around here? This bitch has it coming," he said as she felt his cock now probing to get inside her. Due to the lack of lubrication, her channel stayed firmly closed against the invading cock.

Chapter 4 -- Don't Hurt Me --

A shadow of solid bulk from the guy called Jake was leaning over the top of her, moving with the same silent speed that he had employed upstairs. A violent movement resulted in Mark's weight abruptly lifting off Callie; this was accompanied by a squeal of pain and the release of her legs as Jake did something to her would-be rapist.

Out of her peripheral vision, Callie could see the huge shadow of him standing over her. She could feel the green eyes staring down at her exposed body, tracing the story of her attack for an insurmountable amount of time. Callie kept her head turned away, fighting back the tears that were now stinging her eyes.

Finally, from above her, the handsome guy named Jake spoke. "Which one of you did that to her face?"

"Oh, come on, Jake, why you being a dick about this, man? You want first dibs go ahead and fuck her already. It'll get her ready for me."

The sound of the shotgun exploded into the still night air making Callie's whole body jump off the ground as she tensed for the tearing pain of buckshot. It did not come, and the echoes of the blast seemed to roll away into the light hiss of the rain.

"There going to be a problem here with you too, Mark?" Jake asked.

"No, there's no problem Jake."

"Then go back inside. There are plenty of others for you." Callie opened her eyes in time to see the valet scramble up off the pavement and head back for the side of the club. Just as he got to the edge of her vision, Jake spoke again.

"Mark?"

The valet turned. "Yeah Jake?"

Jake's voice was as cold as the ocean in January. "If I ever see you around her again, I'll kill you too."

Callie heard feet running away and she listened until they disappeared into the distance. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she gazed up into them for several moments. The misty rain mingled with her tears added blurriness to her vision, but not enough to see that Jake's eyes once again looked haunted. Seconds continued to tick by in silence.

Finally, he said, "Callie, are you okay?"

Callie didn't know how Jake knew her name; she had never introduced herself, but she wasn't surprised. Not after everything that had just happened. Callie kept her eyes glued on him, but didn't answer. Very slowly, as if to avoid frightening her, he got down on one knee.

"Callie?" His voice was unnaturally gentle. "I'm so sorry this happened. I had hoped you had left, but it's too late now." As he said this, he lowered the hand not holding the shotgun as though intending to touch the bruises on her face.

"Don't!" Callie said, turning her head away from his touch, but refusing to try to squirm away or run. Two rounds of being tackled were enough; she didn't need to add a third one. "Don't you dare touch me, you son of a bitch. Why not just shoot me and be done with it, because there is no way in Hell I'm going to go to bed with you or any of these men who are with you. So if my leaving isn't an option, then just pull the trigger."

"No," he said firmly, his voice rough. "Callie, I can only imagine what's going through your head right now, and you have every right to hate my guts, but I want you to know that this wasn't my choice. You can do or say whatever you want, but I'm not going to leave you here exposed. Or kill you," he added for clarity. More time passed in silence as Callie refrained from speaking.

"Please," Jake said. "Let me help you. To protect you, I need your cooperation right now so I can get you out of here. I promise I won't let any of them hurt you, or touch you. I won't either, I promise, but I need to get your pants on okay?"

Callie turned her head to look at him, but didn't respond.

Instead she watched Jake pass over her torn panties, grab her jeans, and hesitantly began to pull them back up her long legs. When he reached a point where her jeans would no longer go up while she laid flat, Callie slowly lifted her hips off the ground to allow him to continue pulling them up. Unmistakable lust blazed in his eyes as Callie watched him look down at her. Swallowing hard, Callie saw him turn his head away from the erotic sight and finish pulling her jeans the rest of the way up.

"You zip them," he said roughly. He didn't trust himself enough to do it without stripping the pants back down and burying himself in her. Jake saw her blink at the harsh tone in his voice. He did not intend to admit that the roughness in his voice wasn't from anger or annoyance, but from lust.

Callie did as instructed while Jake gathered her boots and slid them on her feet.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes," Callie replied, avoiding his outstretched hand and pulling herself up. The knee she had cracked twice on the pavement, however, proved her undoing. During her most recent stay on the ground, it had stiffened, and now she stumbled into Jake. Jake caught her easily, and helped her hobble over to the hood of the truck Jimmy had been leaning on earlier, pushing her back against it so it could support her weight.

"I need assistance," Jake said, as though talking into the night.

From her new vantage point, Callie could see Jimmy, whereas before Jake's body blocked him from view. Jimmy lay on the ground about ten feet behind where she had been laying, curled up into some sort of strange defensive position. It took a moment for Callie to realize what she was seeing: part of his head was now completely missing, as was most of his left hand, and the light rain was slowly washing the blood away across the payment toward the storm drain. The grisly sight almost looked fake, like something out of a horror movie.

Startled Callie lifted her gaze as she heard footsteps approaching. To her surprise, she recognized the newcomer as the well-muscled bouncer from the entrance of the club, the one that had admitted Callie and Bridgett about a thousand years ago. As he approached, Jake moved to stand in front of Callie, shielding most of her from view. Callie noticed a small earpiece that she hadn't seen before in Jake's ear.

"What happened, sir?" the bouncer asked. His voice was rather high pitched, and Callie wondered vaguely if he used steroids.

"Jimmy had an accident," said Jake, his tone indicated that the matter was not subject to discussion. The bouncer nodded his head as though he found nothing unusual with the whole situation.

"Shall I tidy this away, sir?"

Jake nodded. "Everything ok in the club?"

"Yes," the bouncer said. "Everything's winding down now, they should start coming out with their selections soon sir."

"Good, I trust this mess can be removed before they get out here?" Jake asked.

"Of course, sir," the bouncer replied.

"There will, of course, be no need to discuss this with anyone," Jake said calmly, extending a small roll of bills. In the dim light and the rain, Callie could not see what denomination was on any of them, but the bouncer seemed satisfied.

"Not a word, sir," the bouncer nodded his head again peering curiously at what he could see of Callie. He stuffed the roll of bills into a pocket, turned toward the back of the club, and opened a bin set into the wall, pulling out a hose.

"Got a syringe on you?" Jake asked him.

The bouncer pulled a box out of his pocket and handed it to Jake without a word. Walking swiftly, and still without speaking, Callie watched the bouncer retreat.

Jake turned around to face Callie. She watched with excessive calmness, her system overflowing with the aftereffects of adrenaline, as he laid the gun on the hood of the truck in a position that would allow him to grab it, and swing it around quickly to fire if need be. The box went next to it, followed by a small vial of clear liquid out which came out of his pocket along with an alcohol wipe.

"This won't hurt you," he said quietly, pulling the needle out and filling it with what looked like long practice. It's just a sedative that will knock you out for a few hours. By the time I get you somewhere safe, it will have almost worn off." He slipped the bottle back into his pocket and dabbed at her arm with the alcohol wipe.

"Why me?" Callie said, before he stuck the needle into her arm.

Jake looked into her eyes, "This is standard; all the girls are sedated like this." By now, too many shocks had hit Callie to cause her to be affected any further. The fact that sedation and kidnap was a standard for the club didn't even register.

"No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis. "I meant, why are you helping me? By the sound of it, a lot of girls are in this same situation, so why are you helping me?"

Jake dropped his gaze from her eyes, and stuck her with the needle. Turing so he could more easily ignore her questions, Jake threw the used needle in a nearby dumpster just as the bouncer reappeared.

In one hand, the bouncer had what clearly looked like a body bag, in his other hand, he had a bucket with a soap bottle rattling around in it. The hose still snaked out along the ground. Jake took the shotgun off the hood of the truck, and kept his eyes trained on the bouncer setting out his tools as he said, "Let's go before the sedative kicks in."

"Evening, Doug," Jake called over his shoulder to the bouncer as he and Callie walked towards the parking lot on the other side.

"Good night, sir," the bouncer called back nodding as he put gloves on his hands and started shifting Jimmy's corpse towards the body bag.

Callie wanted to ask Jake something, but she couldn't remember what it was. Her brain seemed to be disengaging as she tried to clear it, then her eyes began to close and her feet seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. The swift action of the drug slid through her veins, drew clouds of softness around her brain, and sent her soaring into weightlessness as her muscles relaxed and she slid once more toward the pavement. 'Third time tonight,' she thought ruefully.

No impact of pavement came though, and Callie wondered dimly if she had completely blacked out before she hit the asphalt.

Then she felt her feet lifted off the ground and warmth all around her. Callie forced her eyes back open. She hadn't fallen after all; Jake had caught her and was now carrying her in his arms as though she weighed as much as a sack of potatoes.

"Jake," Callie said thickly with her face in his neck to avoid the rain.

"Yes?"

"Remember what you promised. Please don't hurt me okay?" Callie said, having trouble coherently articulating her words now. However, she never heard an answer, for at that moment she slipped into complete darkness and knew no more.

Chapter 5 -- Caught --

Jake felt it the moment Callie fell asleep. He had trouble discerning what she had said, but the words 'don't hurt me' stood out clear as a bell, and were now echoing around in his brain. Lost in thought, Jake was keenly aware of the heat from Callie's body; her even breathing on his neck, and the soft rise and fall of her rain soaked chest.

His steps took him onward, guided by some unconscious impulse, even as he explored the feel of the woman in his arms. So lost in wonder was he, that Jake didn't realize he was already at his car until a voice shook him from his stupor.

"Poor Jimmy. Although I must say he did look the best I've ever seen him with half his head missing," said a loud and haughty voice from a sports car right next to Jake's.

Jake turned, startled, and saw Kade sitting there, smiling menacingly up at him. The glasses and nerdy clothing that he often wore as a disguise had been discarded, and he was now fashionably dressed and looking as handsome as ever.

"Open the door for me, would you?" Jake asked ignoring Kade's comment.

"Oh, Jake, Jake, Jake, Daddy is going to be sooooo pissed at all the trouble you caused here tonight," Kade said, smirking and not getting up to help. "Don't you wanna know how I know little bro?"