Ink Pt. 01

"No clubs. What then?"

"Bookstores? I stay home a lot. I work. I don't go out much at all."

"I can see that. Yeah, my type usually runs to the fun type. Slinky dresses, hair and makeup done at home, not by professionals, but still looking great. No plastic, just round and beautiful and real. Wild. Drinks beer out of the bottle, not wine. Tatts."

"But no one serious? Aren't you a bit old to still be playing that game?"

"I will play the game until I can't play anymore," he laughed. "What about you? Lots of boy toys?"

"I've dated... never been serious. I like smart guys."

"And hot?"

"No. Hot is a bonus, but I like smart."

"Are smart guys good in bed?"

I blushed and was saved from having to say out loud that I wouldn't know when the waitress brought our food.

"At least you eat like a real girl and not some plastic bimbo," he joked as I dove into my omelett.

He finished before I did and sat back considering me. I finally put my fork down and sat up, looking at him questioningly. "You have something to say?"

"You really are adorable. Want to go back to my place?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I answered, hugging myself. I was supremely uncomfortable now.

He shrugged. "Worth a shot, right? You done? Let's get you home."

I wasn't 100% sure I wanted to ride home with him now. I felt like something had shifted in his demeanor. I swallowed hard as I looked at him after locking my seatbelt. Maybe I should call an Uber? I opened my mouth to tell him that that was what I was going to do when he started the truck.

"You'll have to give me directions when we get close," he said quickly, cutting me off before I had spoken.

"Umm, sure," I said, turning to look out the window as he pulled out.

"So you don't drink?" he asked.

"No. Never really liked the taste. Also not a fan of how it made me feel. I've tried it a few times, just didn't like it."

"Ever try pot?"

"No. Never wanted to try it."

"You seem a little uptight."

"I don't care if other people use it, I just don't care to try it myself. I like to be in control."

"So no fun at all?"

"I like to read?"

"Yikes. And sex of course. Everyone loves that."

I blushed again and looked out the window at the passing streets.

"Prudish? In this day and age? Don't worry, I won't tell. How many times have you swiped right for a quick night of fun?"

"I... I don't have that app. I've never done that."

"No? What app do you have?"

"I don't have those apps at all. I have facebook, but my only friends are my family. I use it to see my nephews and my cousins. Umm... How close are we? I feel like we should at least be in the city by now?"

"Close, I am going around. She doesn't do so good on the highways. So you never said, how old are you?"

"Twenty four."

"Are you even five feet?"

"Four ten."

"Tiny little thing. You like short guys? Tall guys? Medium guys?"

"Umm... height doesn't matter. I like..."

"Smart. Yeah."

"Where are we going?"

"My house is right here. I wanted to introduce you to Ricky and Lucy, show you they aren't vicious beasties."

"Ummm... I think we should..." I began as he killed the engine and smiled at me. He took the keys and got out, then came around and opened my door, offering me a hand. I could hear dogs barking in the old house. I looked around. It was an old neighborhood in the city, but not a bad one. I think it was one that was in the process of being gentrified.

He took my hand and pulled me down, then led me inside. As soon as he opened the door, I was attacked and knocked to the floor by a dozen huge and very wet tongues, slobbering my entire face. He flipped the light on and the dozen tongues resolved into two sturdy dogs who were wagging their whole bodies and licking every bit of my face as fast as they could.

I burst out laughing as Brock reached in and lifted me out of the dogs reach.

"Vicious, aren't they?" he asked. "Lucy! Down. Ricky, sit! Good dogs." He put me on the kitchen counter and I wiped my face as I giggled down at the dogs. They were still wagging and they actually looked like they were smiling at me. He handed me a paper towel, then knelt and the dogs both jumped up and started licking him and wagging their whole bodies again. I couldn't help giggling again as I watched.

"Ok, so they aren't awful," I admitted, sliding off the counter to get attacked again.

He grinned and took hold of my arm, pulling me into the living room. He sat on the couch and pulled me down next to him and I immediately went wary again. "I really need to get home and charge my phone so I can call Ben," I said nervously.

"Your step-brother. Ally's fiance."

"Yeah. Let him know he needs to check on her. She was pretty far gone."

"Yeah. They can sort it. So what's the story there? Your mom his dad or the other way around?"

"Neither actually, I was sort of adopted."

"Sort of?"

"My parents died too, but I don't know how. My Dad, he was my godparent, so when they died, he sort of adopted me. Became my caregiver and Ben and Danny became my big brothers."

"How old were you?"

"Young. Young enough I don't remember it and Ben barely does. I really need to be getting home..."

"Why don't you hang here with me for a while? I can show you my bedroom upstairs?"

"No thanks! Umm... listen, I am flattered and everything, I just..."

"I get it. I'm not smart enough, right?"

"Oh. Umm, that's not what I mean. I just..."

"You only fuck guys who make six figures?"

"What? No! No, I don't... I haven't... I have never done that. At all."

"No one night stands?"

"No... no any night stands. I've never done... it."

He snorted. "Yeah, never heard that one before."

I blushed and felt anger rise up again. "Not all girls are like that! Or WANT to be like that! If you have to know, I'm not really interested in sex at all! I just don't care! I don't understand the obsession! It's like drinking or pot or whatever else. I don't want to lose control! Not everyone is..."

"Stop," he said, rolling his eyes and standing. "Enough of the innocent girl act. Save it for someone who gives a shit." He grabbed my arm and pulled me up and when I tried to pull away, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me up his stairs while I kicked him and hit him and screamed bloody murder.

"Let me GO!" I raged, then bit his back.

He jerked me off of him hard enough that my teeth snapped, then tossed me on his giant bed. He yanked his shirt off and undid his pants as I rolled away and off the other side of the bed. He grabbed me up off the floor and yanked my flanned off, then ripped my t-shirt open from behind.

"STOP!" I screamed as he flipped me and shucked my jeans off after flipping my boots off.

"No! No, I know who you are! You are like all the whores parading around! Do you know who I am? I'm sure you do, you just don't fucking know it. Stop fucking fighting, whore. Don't worry, I will fuck you nice and hard before I strangle the life out of you!"

I froze, terrified.

It was him. The Purity Strangler.

He was on the news. In the papers. On the internet. So many girls found raped and strangled, laid out in public places, exposed and positioned in horrible ways.

He ripped my underwear off and I just lay there staring up at him in horror. When he shoved his own underwear off, I woke up.

I screamed and kicked and tried to turn over and get away, but he was too big. Too strong. He held me down and laid over the top of me, his mouth in my ear. "No, you aren't my normal type, but you will do. You are like the rest, spreading your legs and fucking anyone who wants a piece."

His fingers were rough as he shoved his hand between my legs. He forced my legs further apart with his knees and other hand.

"Stop! Please stop! Don't do this, please!" I begged hysterically as I felt his fingers digging into my slit. "STOOOOP!"

"Come on whore, get wet for me. Don't make me have to spit on you. You deserve it though, don't you? Tell me how many men you have spread your legs for?"

"Stop! Please! None! I haven't... NOOO" I wailed as he managed to shove a finger into me.

"Fuck, it's going to be nice fucking a nice tight little cunt for once. You need to get nice and wet..." He froze, his finger pressing into me, the pressure almost unbearable. His breathing was ragged in my ear. He pulled his finger out roughly and shoved off of me. He hit the wall and stood there, frozen in shock.

I started to scramble across the bed, but his words stopped me short.

"Don't you fucking move! Lucy, rip her throat out if she moves!"

I lay on the bed, huddled in on myself, panting and trying to watch him and the dog at the same time. He started pacing, his hands in his hair. I watched his cock swing and bounce off his thighs as he paced, still terrified.

Finally he stopped and moved to the bed, then grabbed my ankle and pulled me towards him. I squealed and tried to kick at him, but he caught my other foot and held it there as he looked down at me.

"You are a fucking virgin," he said, his voice flat.

"I told you I was, asshole!" I yelled, trying to pull my feet away from him.

He snorted another laugh, then shook his head. "Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" he asked, but he seemed to be talking to himself. He let go of my ankles and began pacing again.

I looked at the dog, then back at him. Should I take my chances and try to run? I had a chance escaping the dog, but he had already said he was going to kill me.

I took a breath and started to roll, but Brock was lightning fast as he tackled me down to the bed.

"Don't," he hissed. "Even if you made it past Lucy, Ricky would tear you to pieces at the bottom of the stairs. They'd never let you leave here alive. Just be fucking still. Take that bra off. I want to see those tits."

"NO!" I screamed and started kicking at him again. When he threw his arm across my shoulders, I bit into him again, as hard as I could.

"Fuck!" he yelled, yanking his arm out of my mouth. There was blood and I felt a tiny victory as I kicked again and flipped over, struggling for the edge of the bed. Lucy jumped up and I had time to scream as her mouth came at my face. She licked me, her tail wagging, licking eagerly and lovingly until he yanked me back and flipped me over by my leg. He yanked so hard he dislocated my knee and I screamed in pain as white lit up the edges of my vision.

"Fuck!" he yelled again, then popped my knee back into place. I realized I was screaming again, then my vision went dark. For a second, I thought I blacked out, but it was Lucy, up on the bed, licking my face and laying on my chest as if trying to comfort me. "Down Lucy!" he yelled, but it wasn't in anger.

She whined, but got down, still wagging.

"Liar," I managed, turning on my side to try and cradle my knee. I couldn't bend it and it was swelling up like a cantaloup.

His smile was grim as he leaned in and unfastened my bra roughly, then jerked it off. I hurt too badly to try and fight.

"Please stop," I whispered hoarsely, still rocking my knee.

He left the room and I tried to stand, but he came back in before I managed it. He handed me two pills and a bottle of ginger ale. "For the swelling. And the pain. Take them, now."

"Please take me home," I begged, hating myself for how helpless and whiny I sounded.

"Shut up and take them or I will shove them down your throat."

I took them with a grimace and he pushed me back to the bed, then put a foul smelling cloth over my face. I jerked my head back and tried to turn away, but he held me tight, his face resigned. I had no time to panic, just a fleeting thought that I would never wake up as my eyes shut.

The light was ridiculously bright as I peeked out, my head pounding. My bed shook violently and something wet and warm slapped me in the face. I peeked out and it was a dog. Two dogs as a second tongue joined the first. I remembered where I was and tried to sit up quickly.

Three things happened. I almost jerked my bound arms out of their sockets, I remembered quickly that my knee was hurt when I moved it and I accidentally headbutted a dog with a head much harder than my own. I heard myself whimpering.

"Bet that fucking hurt."

I gasped and peered out, turning my head to the door. Brock was standing against the doorframe, watching me. I realized then that I had woken up. I wasn't dead. Also, he hadn't raped me. Did that mean he was going to let me live, or he just hadn't gotten around to it yet?

"You fucked everything up," he said angrily. "Why did you have to come into Mikes and fuck everyuthing up? I had a system. A routine. Then you had to come along and tempt me. Make me want you. Look at you! You are nothing like I like. Nothing! And my fucking dogs. They were meant to scare the piss out of you, terrify you right into my arms. But they fucking love you. That is god damn ridiculous. You've ruined them. They even slept next to you! All fucking night. Who the hell are you? Who are you to fuck everything up for me?"

I stared at him wide eyed. Was I supposed to answer?

"I had a system! Every two weeks. Different club, different girl. Whores. Never cared who they were coming home with, always eager to fuck. Grasping bitches, saw a guy with a house, a job. Spread their legs right open for me. Every. Single. Time. They only fought when I told them I was going to kill them after I fucked them again. Lucy and Ricky would never let them leave. They wouldn't have stopped you though, no. They would have walked you right out the door and seen you home. What the fuck did you do to my dogs?!?"

"Dog's can sense good people," I whispered.

"And you are good people," he said, his own voice going soft. "Did you know... it was a whore that had my parents on a fucking vacation in fucking Branson. Mom caught him cheating after thirty five years. Her fucking hairdresser. My mom bragged about him, about what a great fuck he was. How big his dick was. So this fucking whore starts coming around dad at work. Gets him to cheat. But he feels bad, so he tells mom. She already knew. Her friends told her. So he takes her on a fucking vacation. They died because a fucking whore wanted what wasn't hers. Wanted to open her legs and get a good fucking. And that's all fucking women now, isn't it? Whores not caring whose life they fuck up. Whore's spreading their legs and trying to trap men, whores giving out sickness, not caring who they infect. Fucking up lives, all of you! No such thing as love anymore, just swiping fucking right and fucking and seeing who has the best life already set up for them. Who has a house, a job, a car, money. That's all any of you care about, isn't it? But not you. No, you want someone to play fucking chess with. Not fuck. What the fuck do you even do if you don't fuck?"

"Talk?"

"Talk. About what? And how long do you fucking talk before you want more? How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Two, almost three."

"Tell me about number one."

"Highschool sweetheart... youth pastor... smart... he wanted to get married but I wasn't in love with him."

"Number two."

"Friend introduced us... he was nice, smart... he smoked a lot of weed. He went backpacking across europe and met someone else."

"Number almost three."

"Professor... smart... we talked, but when I found out he was married. Walked away without ever speaking to him again. We never really dated, just talked."

"And you didn't try and get him to leave his wife?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"First, if he would cheat on her, he would cheat on me. Second, I want nothing to do with a guy like that, third, I am worth more than being someone's side piece. I had no interest in breaking them up, though I did consider letting her know he was a dog."

"Why didn't you?"

"Her age."

"Her age?"

"She was young. I think she knew who he was because she was me once. My arms hurt, could you untie me?"

He laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me? You think I am just going to let you up and let you walk out my door?"

"No... I just hoped you would untie me. Let me use the ladies room."

"You are really fucking calm for someone who is destined to die."

"I don't think you are going to kill me. I don't fit your profile. So we move on to the next plausible situation. You have to keep me here, a secret. Keep me quiet. So you have to lock me in a basement or something, or in a room. You aren't going to want to stop what you are doing and I will be a hindrance, so it has to be a room other than this one. Probably not the basement either since that is probably where you take the girls once you let them know their fate.

You also have another problem. Mike knows you took me home, so when my family comes looking for me, they will come right to you. You went fishing at home instead of in some anonymous place like you usually do. That is a huge fuck up. I can be traced right back to you and then your basement will be blown up as well and you will be caught out.

That means you have to find a way to convince my family I am here by choice and I am fine. I am close to my family, they will want to meet you, come to your place, get to know you. If you keep me here. If you let me go home, it will be a non-issue. You can stay with me, keep me in line, bring your dogs. I can work from home. My family will still meet you, but they won't know anything else about you. You can leave when you need to, come back here when you need to do your thing. Put me to sleep."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he asked incredulously.

"No, I am being serious. What are your other options? Kill me, get caught? Or bring me back and keep me in line."

"And I am supposed to believe you won't turn me in as soon as you see another human being?"

"Why? Why run the risk of being killed?"

"And you have no issue with me continuing to... do what I have been doing?"

"Of course I do, but if I am dead it will keep happening anyway. It is my hope I can convince you to stop. Not every woman is the same. A talk for another time though, I really do need the ladies room. And a shirt or something to wear."

He snorted again. "You are out of your fucking mind," he snapped, but he untied my hands and tossed me my flannel shirt before leading me down the hall to the bathroom.

"Privacy?"

"So you can look for a razor to try and kill me with? No. Take a piss, hurry up," he demanded, then opened the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of aspirin. He set two on the counter and stood back, watching me.

"I won't try anything, my word. I can't pee with an audience."

"I'm not leaving. Sit your ass down and piss or I am tying you back without it."

I took a deep, trembling breath, but sat down, trying to make sure I was covered. It took a full minute of trying to pretend he wasn't there before I could manage to go.

When I was washing my hands, he motioned to the aspirin. "Take them. For your head and knee."

"Thanks," I managed and bent to get a drink out of the faucet.

He led me back to his room, then hesitated. He turned and pulled me down the stairs to the kitchen, then pushed me towards the stove.

"Make something for lunch," he demanded.

I blinked at him as he sat at the table between me and the door. I turned and my eyes went to the knife block. It was a test, of course. He had a larger weapon, or a way to stop me with a knife.

Ricky and Lucy sat and wagged at me like they were both hoping for scraps. I opened the fridge to see what I had to work with, then the cupboards. I had to climb up on the counter to get in the upper cupboards, but he just sat back and watched me.

Finally, I found a case of water and moved it to stand on it so I could use the stove. In twenty minutes, I set two plates on the table and sat down to eat. He was still watching me, his look considering as I ate quietly.