Rebecca Ch. 03byexecuwriter©
I had given Garth the car keys and the lights on my vehicle flashed when he pressed the button on the keyless entry. He led me to the driver's side and opened the door for me.
"You drive. I got to think. Remember, you're just a treat, more or less like a fringe benefit. There are plenty of fucking females in the world that I'd be better off with who aren't kikes. So if anything fucked up happens, you'll be getting a round in your head."
I turned the key in the ignition and the motor purred. I was displeased to be reminded that the gas tank was almost full.
"Your personal hell; one of the most god forsaken places in America, so when we get there, you'll wish you'd never asked. Just get on the Interstate and go west across the river and through the tunnels."
We journeyed silently as I adhered strictly to all the traffic laws, scrupulously following the speed limits and stopping completely at all stop signs though tempted to attract a cop's attention to my plight. But I knew my captor was serious about not wanting to encounter the law, so I tried not to extend the scope of my tragedy.
He smoked cigarette after cigarette as I drove us to what he had promised would be my doom. My last boyfriend had made me quit smoking and the habit had become abhorrent to me, but the stress of having been raped and kidnapped made me crave the relaxation I knew I could derive from nicotine.
"Can I have one?" I asked.
"So you smoke, bitch? I didn't think a high class Jewess like you would want to dirty the air."
"I used to smoke. Since I don't have long to live anyway, I guess it's not going to hurt me if I have one once in a while."
He put one of his Marlboros between my lips. I inhaled as he held a match to the tip and enjoyed the wave of relaxation that came over me as my body reacted to the jolt of nicotine.
We crossed the West Virginia border and drove south on the Interstate. Finally after an eternity during which my adrenaline had stifled any drowsiness, in the middle of nowhere appeared an exit sign. I had driven for so long that there was now a soft blue glow on the eastern horizon.
"Take the exit," he said gruffly.
The only building at the end of the exit ramp was a closed fast food eatery. "Which way do you want me to go?" I asked when we reached the intersection.
"Wouldn't you like to know, bitch," he snarled.
"Look, I've helped you. Why don't you just let me go now? Believe me; I don't want to have anything more to do with you. I'll wait until that restaurant opens before I try to get help. That should give you a one or two hour head start.
"I won't even tell anyone that you have my car. It's a piece of shit anyway. I'll just get a new one when I get back home. I'll tell the folks at the restaurant that I had a fight with my boyfriend and I just wanted to get away from him, so he left me here."
"No dice, bitch. This is too good of an opportunity for me to pass up. That pussy of yours is gonna get a workout from my cock while I'm waiting for the heat on me to die down. Being my cum receptacle will probably be the first decent thing you've ever done in your life."
I began to sob.
"Quit blubbering, bitch. It ain't gonna do you no good."
"So this is the way life is going to end for me? You're just going to rape me over and over until you get tired of me and then kill me?"
"You can try to enjoy it while it lasts."
"You keep acting that way and you're going to get a round in your head."
"That would probably be the first decent thing you've ever done in your life."
My captor lifted his right arm and looked like he was going to back hand me across the face. His countenance was twisted by anger, but then his expression turned to puzzlement as he realized that by fueling his rage I was trying to manipulate him into killing me, thus ending his opportunity to gain pleasure from my body. He lowered his hand and shook his head.
"Just drive over there into the parking lot," he told me, pointing to the restaurant.
He turned the motor off, snatched the keys from the ignition, and got out of the car, keeping the gun trained on me as he walked around the front of the vehicle, evidently fearing that I would make a dash for freedom and disappear into the woods behind the restaurant. With no extra set of keys to restart the car and drive away and no desire to be hunted in the woods by a maniac, I was forced to submit to his will. He opened my door and grabbed my arm, dragging me out of my vehicle, and then popped open the trunk.
"You're going in there, bitch."
"If I stop to buy shit or we get stopped by a cop, you best be quiet. I ain't gonna be no nigger's bitch in jail, so that means I ain't gonna be arrested by no fucking cop.
"And since your pussy car ain't gonna outrun no cop car that means if you draw the fucking cops to me, they're going to get wasted. And if we're at a Seven Eleven and I see that some motherfucker is listening to you telling them to call the cops, they're going to get wasted even if they're an old lady or a kid. So if you care about the human race, you'll just be quiet while you're in there until we get where we're going."
In the back seat of the car he found one of my scarves, which he used to bind my wrists behind my back. I sat down on the lip of the trunk and let him tie my ankles together with my belt. He found one of my hair bands, which he fashioned into a gag, forced it between my teeth, and then knotted it behind my head. I then followed his instructions and lay down inside of the trunk of my car. He closed the lid, and at moment I began serving my sentence to expiate the imaginary sins of my people.
He pulled away, throwing my head against the rear fender of the Cavalier, the tires squealing as he hastened to his secret hideaway. Sleepiness caught up with me quickly and as I drifted off, I wondered if the carbon monoxide fumes from the exhaust might leak into the sealed compartment in which I lie and mercifully do me in.
How long I slept, I did not know. Tears came to my eyes when I awakened, still confined to the trunk. It had not been a nightmare fueled by fragments of memories from a horror movie.
My car was traversing a bumpy road that seemed endless. Bound hand and foot, I could not protect my head, which struck the floor of the trunk again and again as my vehicle went up and down over rocks and into ruts. My forehead became damp with sweat as the trunk trapped the heat of the late spring sun.
The car finally stopped. The driver opened his door and slammed it shut as he got out. Would he remember his passenger in the trunk? Or so ashamed of the abuse to which he had subjected me, that unable to face his victim, he would let me die from heat stroke in the trunk of my car?
In no hurry to face my abuser, I did nothing to call attention to my plight. All was quiet about me except for birdsong and the footsteps of my captor as he trudged about. His footsteps stopped and I heard the dribble of liquid, which I deduced was the sound of urine hitting the ground.
The footsteps resumed and came closer. I heard the trunk lid pop and a second later I squinted in reaction to bright sunlight hitting my eyes as the lid cracked open.
I dreaded seeing my captor's face again, but refusing to give him the satisfaction of showing fear, I looked him in the eyes when he raised the lid. A cigarette was dangling from his lips and he was wearing a shit-eating grin as he regarded his captive.
He grabbed my tank top and lifted my torso so that I was sitting erect in the trunk. It was then that I realized how much my head, my neck, my back, my shoulders, and my legs hurt from being thrown about in the trunk. Still gagged, I glared at my captor.
"I'm going to take the gag out of your mouth, and you can scream as much as you want bitch, because there ain't no one around for miles that will hear you."
He pulled my hair band from between my teeth and it fell to rest around my neck. To show my toughness, I continued to stare into his eyes, not uttering a word.
He undid the belt that held my legs together and effortlessly scooped me up into his arms, which were like steel girders. My survival was at his behest, for a man with his strength could wring my neck with his bare hands.
But I was overcome by the awkward sensation that I felt safe cradled in his arms. Had he been a cave man and I a princess from another tribe whose fortune was to be kidnapped and made his mate, our offspring and I would be safe from predators and always have the carcass of a mammoth or caribou on which to dine.
He placed my feet onto the ground and I stood and surveyed my new environs. Surrounded by forest in a clearing about twenty feet in front of me was a ramshackle log cabin. Across the front window ran several cracks, and visible inside the pane were thick cobwebs. The logs were gray with large cracks running lengthwise. The roof sagged in the middle. A few yards to the left was a large shed, the inside hidden by double doors that were secured in place by a padlock that held together links of a rusty chain.
"What do ya think?" my captor asked.
At that instant there was no malice in his eyes. It was as if he was bringing someone special home to roost. Thinking that he might be experiencing a moment of clarity, I made a final plea for my freedom.
"You must know by now that this was a mistake. But look. We can put this right. All you have to do is put me back into the trunk and drive back to the highway.
"You leave me off there and I swear to God that I won't even tell anyone that you have my car. I won't even call the cops. I'll call my ex-boyfriend and have him pick me up. Once I start fucking him again he won/t ask any goddamn questions.'
The sullen expression on his face betrayed his lack of interest.
"Here's an even better idea. I saved about a hundred grand for law school. You drive me back to Pittsburgh. I'll sell the stocks and cash in the bonds, and then turn everything into cash and just give it to you. Just think-around a hundred grand in small bills.
"That would last you for years! You wouldn't even need my car. You could buy yourself a brand new Mustang or Corvette.
"But you've got to let me go. You don't want to kill anyone. I don't believe in capital punishment. But if I'm dead you don't want to be on trial with a jury made up of a dozen people who do."
He paused and thought for a moment.
"No fucking Jew is going to let a hundred grand go and not put out an APB. I reckon that it'd be about a day before the fucking cops caught up with me. And if I get pulled over in this fucking car, the cops are going to know something's not kosher. After they get a hold of you, that'd be the last time I'd get to see daylight for forty or fifty years.
"And as far as being fried by the law, when we crossed the border into goddamn West Virginia, I put myself on the hook for interstate kidnapping. That's a capital crime you know.
"So even if I let you go now, I figure the fucking ZOG, that's by the way National Socialist lingo for the Zionist Occupation Government which runs the show in this country, would want to teach us a lesson by snuffing out my life if they caught up with me. There's just no way you're not going to let the cops know what happened to you if I let you go. So you're just going to have to stay here with me and face the consequences.
"You know, bitch, I was thinking while we were coming up here that when you first laid eyes on me you must have thought you wouldn't want to fuck me if I was the last guy left on earth."
He paused and scanned my face for a reaction. He was right but I tried to show no emotion.
"Well now, it's just you and me and the bears and the coyotes. So you're going to get to find out what that's like.
"That pussy of yours is too nice and juicy to go to waste. Before I snuff you, you're going learn what it's like to get it from a real man. "
I watched as he unloaded supplies from the back seat of my car. While I was asleep, he must have stopped to buy food. The rear compartment of my car was full with bags of canned food, cereal, instant potatoes, rice, flour, corn meal, liquor, beer, and Gatorade.
"I could help you cook some of that."
"A Jewess like you in the kitchen cutting up vegetables-now that would be a site because a fine looking bitch like you probably can get some girly guy to buy dinner anytime you wanted. I'll bet you've never cooked a goddamn meal since Home Economics.
"You'll get whatever's left when my stomach's full if I decide you're worth keeping around. And if I catch you stealing any of my fucking food, you'll wish you hadn't because I bought it for me, and I beat the shit out of anyone who steals my stuff."
He led me inside the rickety domicile. The door opened to a large common area. In one corner were a stove, sink, and refrigerator. The white paint on the appliances was being replaced by rust. An old coffee pot sat on the stove. Through the window behind the sink I could see a gas tank that supplied energy for the appliances.
A fireplace was located catty-cornered from the kitchen area. In the middle of the common space was a kitchen table surrounded by four chairs. The table and chairs bore scratches and gouges and the finish had worn off, revealing rough gray wood.
Adjacent to the kitchen was a bathroom that contained an empty toilet, a sink, and a tub, the white surfaces of which were covered by layers of filth. A short hallway led to two bedrooms, each with a metal bed frame on which lay bare mattresses.
As he saw me inspecting my surroundings, my captor informed me, "Don't think you're going to get to stay in here. You'll be inside that shed unless it's time for me to have my way with you."
"It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while."
"Who the fuck would want to come to a shit hole like this?"
"It could be nice."
"My dad and his dad used to come up here to hunt once in a while. But no one's used it in the last few years since my dad died."
"Is your mother alive?"
"Not that it's any of your fucking business, but no."
"Don't be. They hated each other. My dad drank himself to death and by the time he died my mother was a wreck from all the worrying she did about how we were going to pay the rent and have food on the table. She only lasted a couple of years longer than he did before she got lung cancer. They're better off wherever they're at."
"Any brothers or sisters?"
"When did you start liking Nazism?"
"Enough of your fucking questions! Getting inside my head isn't going to do you any goddamn good! Now you stay in here while I unload."
"I can help."
"Bitch, how are you going to carry anything with your hands tied behind your back?"
"You could untie me."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? As soon as your hands were free, you'd be hitting, kicking, biting, and scratching; anything to get these fucking car keys," which he dangled inches from my face.
"I just want the opportunity to show you I'm not out to hurt you, that I can be useful. I want to earn your trust."
"Earn my trust? We're goddamn enemies! I'm a Nazi and you're a Jew, you know. If you had carjacked me, I'd be figuring out how to fucking kill you right this minute."
"I'm completely dependent on you for survival. You could kill me with your bare hands. I just want to show you that it's worth keeping me alive."
"You're not worth shit! You and all your fucking people are poison to the world, which by the way would be a lot better place if all you goddamn Jews were dead or had never been born. When I get tired of fucking you, you can be assured that I will do my duty to humanity and kill you!"
"Why do you hate us so much?" I sobbed.
He did not reply as he strode through the door and walked to the car. He raised the hood and returned a few minutes later wearing a smirk. "There's no way you're gonna start that fucking car now," he told me as he threw my car keys onto the kitchen table.
He stormed out of the cabin and returned with an armful of supplies. It required several trips to empty the car.
When he finished he glared at me with beady eyes. I was standing next to the sink, not having dared to sit down; looking at the provisions that now took up every inch of the table top.
"Bitch, you best be thinking how you want to die. You know, if you behave yourself, I might just give you a choice."
"I'll be good to you. I promise."
"Before I'm through with you, you're going to regret being born."
"I'm a human being just like you. Remember that. Someday you'll be sorry for what you've done to me."
"Fuck you," he muttered as he cleared a space on the table by putting some of the provisions on the floor. "Do you know what? You've just earned yourself a fuck," he snickered.
He grabbed my top and dragged me over to the table, the top of which was about the height of my waist. He then slammed me down onto the table. My forehead hit the wooden surface hard. "Ouch, goddamn it!" I screamed.
My back then exploded in pain as his fist slammed into my rib cage. "Stop it, please!" I pleaded when my breath returned.
"You best be quiet bitch!"
"I told you I'd fuck you. You don't have to be so rough with me."
He jerked my jeans and my panties down so that I was bare assed with my torso flat on the table, hands tied behind my back. He pressed my chest down against the table top with his meaty right hand and I could hardly breathe.
"You're going to suffocate me!"
"You would be so lucky!" he snickered as I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. "Now you're in for the ride of your life!"
The muscles that protected my vagina from unwanted penetration went into spasm as his erect penis probed my labia. He pushed forward as he tried to enter me and I winced. As much as he tried, he could not get inside of my pussy.
"You promised me, bitch!" he whined.
"Please, give me a chance to relax."
I heard him release the trigger guard of his pistol and cock it. Seconds later I felt the cold metal of the barrel on the skin behind my right ear.
"That's not going to help me relax!"
"You've got five seconds bitch, or your brains are going to be splattered across this table!"
"Please don't kill me! I just can't right now!"
"One! Two! Three! Four!"
As he counted, he continued to probe me with his penis to no avail. But before he could utter the final number in the count, I screamed, "Please, I don't want to die! I'll give you another blowjob!"
He took the pistol away from my head and released the trigger. I winced as he lifted me by the hair. My knees buckled but he caught me before I fell to the floor and I regained my balance.
We were face to face. "It better be good," he snarled, and his smoky breath permeated my airways.
"It will be," I promised him. I then stood on my tiptoes and kissed him his lips.
"What was that for?"
"Because you let me live."
"Do you like me or something? Just to keep things straight between us, I don't like you."
"You might like me someday."
"Stop messing with my mind, bitch."
I looked at one of the bottles of Wild Turkey that was setting on the table.
"If you gave me a shot of that stuff, it might help me relax. You know, I've been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours."
He reached for the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and held it to my mouth. I guzzled about two shots before he took it away.
"Hey, that stuff's expensive!"
"It could be my last drink. I had to make sure it was a good one."
"Now you're getting with the program, bitch."
"Don't you think Rebecca is a prettier name than 'bitch'?"
"Don't press your luck. You're lucky you ain't dead yet."
"Letting me live; and, by the way, that shows you're not all bad."