Rebecca Ch. 01

My body writhes as I desperately try to free my limbs, but my restraints are too tight. Despite knowing that the more I fight, the more now irreplaceable oxygen I consume, thereby reducing the already short time that comprises my future; my instincts make me strain at my bonds, titillating the author of this scene.

The pain is still there but I no longer care as my brain and body shut down from lack of oxygen. I have to urinate, and I can no longer control my sphincter. I feel my panties become warm as liquid flows from my urethra and the urge to pee goes away. My body goes limp as my consciousness continues to ebb. I then feel Garth's hands on my hips.

I awaken lying on my back on the cold floor boards of the cabin. I am being shaken, but I only see black as the blindfold is still covering my eyes. I try to move my hands, but they are still restrained.

"Breathe, goddamn it!" I hear someone exclaim.

It does not occur to me that I am the subject of this entreaty. I am shaken violently by my shoulders. I realize that I am hungry for air and draw in a deep breath.

My neck hurts as my chest expands. My windpipe burns. I cough violently, take another breath, and then cough even more. The noose is no longer around my neck. I realize that Garth has let me live.

I begin to cry. I want to look at him, but my eyes are still covered. Strong hands grab my shoulders and lift me up. "Garth?" I sob.

I am scooped up by a pair of muscular arms. There has been no reply to my missive. I wonder if I am a ghost and my body is being carried to its grave. Or will I be buried alive, I wonder.

I move my arms and legs. The grip tightens around my body. Who is rescuing me? Is it Garth, or did the law catch up with him while I was hanging and dispense the justice he deserved? I realize that despite what he has done to me that I d0 not want him dead. I hope that it is his arms that are carrying me.

I am laid gently on a bed. "Garth, please let me know if it's you!" I cry out hoarsely.

The blindfold is jerked away from my eyes. I look up and see my captor. The deep furrows in his forehead indicate worry.

"You were out for a while," I hear him say as he turns me on my side and unties my hands.

I rub my wrists as he removes the bonds from my ankles. When he finishes, I realize that my bottom is wet and I sit up to take off my panties. Garth gently pushes me down onto the bed.

"I need to get out of this wet thing," I explain.

"You better lie down for a while."

"My butt's getting cold."

"You shook all over when I was cutting you down, and then you didn't breathe after I got the rope off your neck. I thought you were dead."

"What did you do?"

"I gave you mouth to mouth, and pounded on your chest like they do on television. You started breathing a little, and then I shook you real hard, and you finally woke up."

The first time a Nazi has ever brought a Jew back to life, I think. But pointing out such an irony will not be of any benefit to me.

"Garth, thank you for saving me."

"You're not pissed?"

"I'm just happy to be alive. I want you inside me, but I've soiled myself. Can you wait until I bathe?"

He takes my hand and helps me from the bed. I see myself in the mirror. My lipstick is smeared all around my mouth from Garth's efforts to assist my respirations. My tears have made my mascara has run, producing blacks streaks running down my cheeks. I look like the undead. I laugh. "Garth, how can you even stand to look at me?" I run into the bathroom to wash my face.

He trails me into the bathroom as I splash water on my visage for the second time since he awakened me from my nap. "You're pretty cool for a Jewish chick."

After scouring my face to remove my makeup, I pat it dry and look at Garth. He is now meek, fearing that I will be angry. The Nazi monster has departed. "A bubble bath and a glass of wine would be nice right now," I suggest.

He departs the bathroom and I turn on the water. I remove my bra and soiled panties, tossing the latter into the sink. Fortunately the generator has been on and I have some hot water. Garth returns with two wine glasses, a bottle of Cabernet, and the box of bubble bath. "Don't use up all the water," he admonishes me.

"You're not the one who was just hanged," I remind him.

"And I'm the one who didn't put a round in your head after I brought you here."

I pour some crystals into my bath water and sit in the tub. Garth takes out the cork of the half empty bottle of wine and pours us each a glass. The air is cold and my naked torso shivers as I wait for the hot bath water to warm me up as I remember the day I was brought here.