Converting The Feminist Ch. 08

I couldn't believe my eyes. It's every girl's nightmare to be seen naked by her family. I just never imagined that nightmare including Tyler or the toys filling my orifices. Tyler was enjoying the view a lot more than my father. My father's focus was more on Blake. Was there something I was missing?

"You shouldn't have come here," Blake barked at my father.

"I don't really care. You shouldn't have kept her for yourself, boy," my father commented.

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask or care for what you have to say," Blake replied.

"Tyson, did though," Tyler interjected.

Both Blake and I shifted our views to Tyler dumbstruck. Blake had mentioned his former boss's name in passing but I'd never heard much about him. Tyler's hands were dug deep into his pockets. At first I don't know why I cared, until I saw the bulge of a pistol grip. They weren't here for Blake at all.

"Kid's got the right of it. You see Tyson is a businessman like me. So when I promised to pay five times the contract for my daughter, he couldn't turn on you quick enough," my father commented smugly.

"I don't care. I'm not letting you take her anywhere. Now get the fuck out of our home," Blake shouted.

"That's what I have this for." Tyler withdrew a pistol from his coat pocket. I didn't know anything about guns but that weapon in Tyler's hand looked real enough to terrify me. "The boys will be up shortly to package your wife for Mr. Steele. We just wanted to come in early to rub it in your face. Just like you rubbed it in mine, parading her around in front of me. Bet you regret showing off now, don't you Blake?"

Sounds of footsteps echoed from the hallway. I estimated maybe four strong men in total. Blake was frozen in place. Just when I thought Blake would do anything to keep me, the current situation had me second guessing that. I tried to keep up a brave face but when the four men entered the room I was anything but.

"Take that silly piece of glass out of my daughter's pussy. You can leave the gag in. Blustering bitch like my daughter can always use more cock sucking practice," my father said with his usual condescending tone.

Two of the four came towards the side of the bed, while a third approached me from the foot. The final man made his way over to Blake. Blake threw a punch but the other man was ready. Being faster than Blake, maybe even stronger too, the man managed to wrestle my husband into a pair of handcuffs. Pulling a gun on him, Blake calmed down and went back to being still.

The lone man coming at me from the foot of the bed, grabbed my ankles while I was watching Blake. I tried to throw a punch of my own but the pair at my side grabbed my wrists. They were quick to pin them above my head while the first man began roping together my ankles. I squirmed violently, trying to get free but all three of them had iron grips.

"Careful with her or I'll fucking kill you."

I was shocked at my father's interruption. I doubted he cared about my well being after I sent his ass to jail. Perhaps the man who bought the first round with me wanted me in pristine condition.

Continuing my resistance was still difficult but the tightness with which they held me down was loosened. Once the man finished coiling my ankles, he cinched off the rope and moved to tie down my knees. Ropes went just above my knees, quickly leading to the losing my fighting chance. When the man finished, I bucked and thrashed like a worm on the bed. I couldn't prevent the tears from flowing. Before they were from pain, now I was crying from betrayal.

The thugs holding me down flipped me over and pulled my hands to the small of my back. Their movements were quick but not rough. They were taking care not to use any more force than absolutely necessary.

One of the pair grabbed a pair of cuffs from their bags. Pushing one hand in, then the other, they secured me. Pacified entirely, all I could do was cry. I knew pleading was pointless. No matter what pathetic garbled mesh of words I muttered, my father wouldn't care. He wasn't the merciful type.

Not finished with me yet, the brutes bound my elbows together, then using the same rope tied several wraps under my chest. It was impossible to swing my arms around, thus preventing me from picking at the knots of rope on my legs. Finished with the task of securing me, the three backed off.

"I had such high hopes for you, Brittany. I hoped one day, you would come around from those aggravating feminist ideals you believed so heavily in." I glared at my father, a fury sparking in my gut. "You could have had the keys to an empire, money to live with whatever man you wanted. All you had to do was have this very thing done to others and you would have lived like a queen. Instead, you betrayed me."

My father walked over to my side. He took a fistful of my hair, forcing our eyes to lock. "Now, you and that little bitch of a sister will share the same fate."

Dad's words were like a knife to my heart. What I realized as this nightmare unfolded was that this had to have been his plan all along. Having me out of the way, left Emily exposed and susceptible to him. My father would have everything he needed to strong arm her into submission. Only after it would be too late, would he tell her how much of a fool she was.

"Nnn'ph mnn fnchnng nnrm phnnch mm phnphphmr ngnnn!" I screamed as loudly as I could. My father shrugged his shoulders but now his attention had gone over to Blake.

"And you... well, I don't know who's more of a disappointment to me. She may have been a naive foolish girl but you had all the information and still tried to turn against me. Don't think I know about your little heroics you made over at the FBI office."

Blake just chuckled, "They weren't heroics. If they were, maybe I'd have turned myself in instead of trying to keep your little bitch."

My heart sank. I wanted to believe it was all a lie, that it was a bold ploy to fool my father. The authenticity and lack of empathy in his words had managed to be too convincing. Dad said nothing, silence rested comfortably between them. Tyler made a coughing sound, gathering everyone's attention. He made a head nod towards me and my father repeated the same nod to the brutes who tied me up.

"Take her out to the car. Put her in the trunk and make sure no one sees," Tyler ordered.

"Mmph fnchnng gn nf mm mnn pnmcmph nf phhnph!" I shouted, wiggling hysterically like a worm as one of my kidnappers scooped me up his arms.

"Well this is the end of the road, Blake. Had you followed your orders, I might have let you keep Brittany after I extracted every ounce of resistance out of her. Now, you'll be taking my place in prison."

The last expression I saw on Blake's face, the face of my husband, the face of my betrayer, was a cocky grin. I tried convincing myself that it was all an act. Believing the alternative would have done more damage to my psyche than anything my father could have conjured. Just when there was a small amount of trust between us, moments away from getting the truth of it all, everything was snatched away by a vindictive father.

All of my plans, my pretending to be compliant, was all for naught. The trip out of Blake's home was a blur. My mind swirled contemplating how idiotic I'd been. The distraction was overwhelming enough that I hadn't realized when they stuffed me in the trunk, or when the car started to move. What was it all for? What did I do to deserve this?

Deserve this

The words echoed in my head, shocking the memories back to the forefront of my mind. The picture became clear as day; the day I said yes to Blake. I remembered the faint floral scents placed out by the restaurant manager. Blake had apparently pleaded with him, and paid a hefty price, to decorate the restaurant. The decorations were beyond girly and I remember telling him how much I hated them.

I recalled the dinner that night. The taste of the overcooked strip steak I ate flooded my taste buds. Flavours bursted around my mouth as the memory continued to stir. Every food I ate that night seemed to take control of my senses. Then came his speech, the speech that won me over.

"Brittany, I know it's been only a year but there's no one I'd rather spend my life with than you."

Blake got down on his knee, pulling forth a small black box. I knew what was in it, quickly formulating a response that wouldn't be too humiliating.

"Before you say no; I know your ideals are probably outraged I'm even doing this. Truth is, I don't care because I love you. So much so, that you have no idea."

"Blake, I'm not marrying you," I whispered.

"Brittany, you've always wanted to know why I loved you. You always wanted to know why I chose you over the thousands of girls I could have plucked from the crowd that day."

"That's a bit overconfident, even for you, Blake."

"I choose you Brittany, because you chose me a decade earlier."

"What are you saying? I don't understand."

"You've always repressed your memories. Some too painful or joyous to remember. We spent our childhood together. We did everything together. You were my best friend, Brittany. Every day we swung on the swings in that shitty park behind your house. I'd spend most of them thinking about how much you meant to me."

Blake clasped his hands over mine, leaving the ring box on the table. "I remember the days at school when you stood up to those bullies with me for your sister, Emily. I remember the day your mom got you Foxxi. You were so attached to that little thing that it managed to make me jealous."

He took in a deep breath, continuing his speech. "Freshman year, everyone thought you were a bitch, but I knew the real you. I grew up alongside you. You were nice to me back then. You were the one to me. I didn't act on it because I was scared I'd lose you. The tiniest of doubts kept my lips sealed."

"I met you just a year ago Blake, you're crazy."

"I knew you would say that, butterfly."

It snapped into place, everything became clear and I knew Blake wasn't his real name.

"Caleb..." I said almost unbelieving.

"I never thought I'd hear you call me by my old name ever again. I thought you were too scared from those years with your dad. You have no fucking idea how good it feels to hear you say it again. So, doubts aside, principals and ideals and all the other bullshit. Will you marry me, Butterfly?"

"Yes, a thousand times over, rockstar," I cried out, tears streaming down my cheek. Caleb, rose pressing his lips to mine, the first time I really felt connected to him. I remember the person I used to be and all it wanted was to be held by him all night. And when he slipped that beautiful ring on my finger, I knew I would be his forever.

The memory faded away and reality set back into my view. Caleb... all this time, I'd repressed the happiest day of my life because of the mention of my father. My childhood friend, my confidant, my husband. Tears flowed freely as I came to realize the betrayal we both committed to the other. I broke my promise, he broke his.

Caleb turned into a true monster, but was I just as monstrous for toying with his heart back then? When I reported my father, I abandoned Caleb. I never saw him the day after we fled to live hundred of miles away. I never even tried to stay in touch. Maybe, if I had kept my promise, would Caleb have turned out this way?

The ride was short, and I was thankful for it. I figured I'd not have many things to be thankful for in the near future. The trunk opened and I needed to blink a few times to adjust to the brightness. One of the men who tied me up, pulled me out of the trunk. Carrying me over his shoulder, we went down empty stone hallways until we reached, what I assumed, would be my new room.

The man threw me inside, not a single piece of future save for the disgustingly old mattress. My escort slammed the door closed, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Seeking comfort of some kind, I crawled and wiggled like a worm until I managed to get myself on the bed. It was soft, but I could feel a few of the springs pushing against my weight.

Beggars can't be choosers, I guess. Not that I want to be either.

I took the opportunity to get some shut eye but was quickly disturbed. Rolling over to see my visitor, I was horrified to find Tyler. He shed his jacket and several buttons of his dress shirt were undone. I glared at the asshole who kidnapped me. He chuckled at my defiance.

"Fix that disrespectful look and you'd be the perfect woman; bound, gagged and ready to be fucked into submission."

"Fnch mnn," I muttered.

"Still got a mouth, huh? I would have thought for sure Blake would have beaten that out of you by now."

Blake? Does he not know about what his real name is? Come to think of it, I don't remember Tyler from before. He would have met Caleb after I left.

"Oh well. Blake's not here to protect you now. I'm gonna break you in for your first customer, little girl. He's a real beast, loves to get super rough. If you're not covered in bruises and welts by the time he's done with you, I'll count it as a miracle."

I felt the color drain from my face. It was obvious the look of terror strewn across my face was more than enough to entice him closer. The heat of his minty breath reeked in my nostril. When I thought he was seconds from kissing me, he tugs on my hair forcing my head into an uncomfortable backward angle.

"Don't worry," Tyler whispered, "I won't be gentle."

Tyler released my hair only to flip me over on my belly. Before I could wiggle away, he pulled up my hips. The familiar position to which Blake had me in a multitude of times only heightened my embarrassment. I could hear Tyler removing his pants, the sound crisply ringing in my ears. In a panic, I try to squirm free but with each movement Tyler corrected my position then struck my ass.

Humiliated and powerless, I yield my resistance to save my energy for a time I might be able to escape. With one rough push, Tyler pushed his full length inside me. I screamed loudly into my gag from pain. Neither he nor I was lubricated enough and he's clearly larger than Caleb. Tears pushed themselves out of my eyes, as Tyler slammed into me over and over again. Before I knew it, I felt the warmth of his cum shooting into me.

"Nnnn! PHphnp!" I cry out.

Ignoring my cries, Tyler continued to fuck me. Even after his first orgasm, Tyler continued his assault. Getting more physical now, Tyler spanked my ass harder and harder. When he grew bored of that, he tugged at my hair, arching my back painfully.

"That's right bitch, cry for me. This is where you were meant to be. All women are property, objects, toys for men to use when they deem. You don't deserve rights or freedom. All you'll ever amount to is a fuck doll slave, Brittany."

The terror of his words don't immediately sink in. When they do, I realize that they wouldn't let Caleb come to my rescue. I was on my own. Everything Caleb had done to me was child's play compared to what was in store.

Continuing my plan to conserve strength was becoming difficult. Tyler was relentless, striking my ass, tugging my hair, twisting my nipples or pinching my clit. He was going out of his way to make me as miserable as possible. On top of that, his lust was an endless spree of orgasms. I'd lost count by the time he gave up, clearly spent. Despite how tired he looked, I felt a thousand times worse.

I passed out before Tyler left, but I was rudely awoken by the "client" when he arrived in my prison cell. My bindings were gone and replaced with leather cuffs. Finding myself in a new room, I quickly noticed I was bound spread eagle to a comfy bed. I tested the cuffs trying to get free. Oddly, the person who had purchased time with me was simply starring, watching in wait for me to stop.

Giving up, I inspect the man watching me. He's tall, heavily built with a beer belly of sorts. His hair was a dusty orange color, unkempt and wild. Slowly, he approached the foot of the bed. My body shook, clearly afraid of such a big man being atop me. He stood there a while, not saying a word, just staring at me, naked, bound and spread before him.

Something I found curiously out of place was that he still kept his pants on. There was an obvious tent in them but the door behind him was more than likely locked. Even if it wasn't, he purchased me with the intention of fucking and beating me. So what was the game here? What was I missing?

Then the unexpected happened. My mystery man, the client who purchased me, sat on the side of my bed. He leaned in close and began to whisper.

"I know who you are. It's why I bought you. You're Blake's wife." I tried my hardest to keep what little of my face was showing to be showing impassively. "He did me a solid in the past, I owe him. I intend to make us square today."

Confused by the man's words, I struggled to keep that impassive look. He pushed himself off the edge of my interim bed, and walked to the door. He gave the metal three knocks and the door swings open. Immediately, I find my father looking at his client with a clear expression of disappointment.

"What did you whisper into my daughter's ear, Clay?" My father ordered.

"Nothing that you won't soon know," Clay replied cryptically.

"What have you done?" my father says, a hint of worry cracking through his anger.

"A long time ago your new son in law saved my sister from death. Now I'm saving his family."

My father let out a long displeased sigh. He shook his head, another sign of displeasure. Walking forward, my father's mood didn't offset Clay's determination to go through with his plan. My father pulled out of his back pocket a pistol. I thought the chance of being saved was moments from being snatched away, but then a miracle.

A group of men, wearing body armor and carrying weapons burst through the door behind my father. Three white letters cover their chest and any idiot would know what they meant.

"FBI! Put your weapon down, now!"

There was a flurry of activity that my eyes were too worn out to follow. I remember the blanket they gave me, a gift for my dignity. My father was dragged away in cuffs, alongside a large slew of his associates. My savior was dragged off as well. It was a bit disconcerting to see a man who redeemed himself walk off in shackles.

My mind jumped to Caleb, fearing what became of him. I wasn't sure what my father did. Was Caleb left there cuffed? Was he turned over to the police? Did my father kill him? My mind abuzz with frightful scenarios, I tried putting one to bed by asking one of the agents who came to get my statement.

"Excuse me, I know I'm probably not allowed to ask a question, but do you know what happened to Caleb Kents?" I pleaded.

"We arrested a 'Blake Kents,'" the man answered, "Any relation?"

"Yeah," I choke up, "They're the same person... they're my husband."