Rebecca Ch. 03

He examined the bottle, surprised by the amount of whiskey I had consumed.

"I guess this stuff will kill any of your Jew germs."

He then took a big swig of Wild Turkey. When he was done about a quarter of the bottle was gone.

"This shit's good," he remarked.

"I'll understand if you get mad and hit me because I piss you off. But don't think you need to beat me up to get me to fuck you. I'll be a sure thing. It's my payment so you'll let me live for a while."

I sank to my knees and looked up at my captor with a lascivious grin and then regarded his boner.

"He's nice and big. I'm sorry I couldn't take him inside me, but it was pretty uncomfortable lying across the table."

"Are you going to talk or suck my dick?"

I looked into his eyes, smiled again, and opened my mouth wide. I slowly engulfed his penis and slid my lips up and down the shaft and let the tip of my tongue lightly dance on the corona and frenulum to send him to a new level of arousal. His fingers began caressing my scalp, and I knew that for the moment, he was hooked on me.

I expelled him from my mouth and looked up to meet the gaze of the monster who was destroying my life and at whose behest I lived or died. Knowing that my only hope for the former was to enjoy the violations I would suffer at his hands, I pleaded with my countenance to the brute who held me captive to be satisfied, to obtain the pleasure only a man can provide to a woman, telling him, "My pussy is getting wet. Why don't you try to fuck me again?"

He lifted me to my feet. Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him on the lips. His mouth opened and I stuck my tongue inside. As our tongues embraced each other, he wrapped his arms around me.

My heart pounded as he drew me close, and then I really did begin to lubricate as his pungent aroma permeated my nostrils while he pressed me against his iron pectorals. Our lips broke apart and I regarded him with an expression of sweet sadness, ready to enjoy being penetrated by a creature who was the embodiment of evil. His expression turned to incredulity as he realized that I was about to satisfy both him and myself.

"Bitch, no matter how much you enjoy this, you ain't getting off the hook."

"I know. And I realize you can't trust me. So why don't you pull off my pants, and tie my hands above my head to one of those chairs so I can lie on my back while we do it."

He untied my hands. Before he could do anything else, I threw my arms around him and embraced him with all my strength, burying my head into his muscular chest. I could hear his heart pound with his passion for me.

"I'm going to pray every night that you'll stop hating me; so that when you have to kill me you'll be at least a little sad."

"Tell me this ain't a goddamn act."

"I'm not acting, Garth. I'm hot for you, and I'll be hot for you every time we fuck."

"So you can just turn it on and off for just any guy?"

"No. And I don't know what it is. I still want you to turn me loose. But there's just something special about you and the way we're here together."

"You're one crazy bitch."

I released him from my embrace. He watched as I pulled my pants off and I then stood before him naked below the waist.

"Do you want to eat my pussy?"

"You're not going to pull any shit, are you?"

"You're not going to promise not to kill me, are you?"

He gave me the smile of grudging admiration that one gives an adversary on a tennis court after being aced on a serve. He threw me down on the table, albeit more gently this time, and I stretched my arms out above my head. Using my scarf, he retied my wrists together, intertwining them with the upright of one of the kitchen chair that was on the other side of the table. I winced as he tightened the ligature, but was grateful not to be bound as tightly as before.

Standing between my legs, he regarded me warily, his victim who was his now willing conquest, puzzled that I had invited him to pleasure me. I managed a weak smile and said, "It would be nice to be able to do this on a bed sometime."

He touched my left hip and ran his finger down my outer thigh.

"That feels nice," I said and closed my eyes, imagining that I was the concubine of a handsome dark lord who would use his supernatural powers to drive me to unimaginable pleasure.

His hand moved under my tank top and the clasp that held the cups of my brassiere together gave way at his behest. His fingers wandered over the soft skin of my right breast and found their way to my nipple, which quickly became erect.

"Now you know not to just jump in and go right for my pussy. A woman needs to be touched gently to get in the mood. By taking a little extra time, I'll be hot for you and then you'll get even more pleasure from satisfying me."

"That will be a nice memory for you while you're roasting in hell, 'cause that's where all you goddamn Jews are going to end up."

"You've promised to kill me. All I can do is live for the moment. Please don't spoil this one!"

As I uttered those words, he had come closer to me so that his pelvis was touching mine. Why he had not tried to penetrate me, I didn't know.

I had not freely chosen the odious character who had imprisoned me, but now I wanted his cock in my pussy. I thus puzzled over whether what was about to happen was rape. But before I could absorb myself in a Talmudic debate over the ethics of forced intercourse, I realized that I must pleasure him. It was the key to my survival. And the best way to assure that he was satisfied was to satisfy myself.

I thrust my pelvis up and down, sandwiching his rigid cock in the groove between my labia, forcing it to rub against he little nubbin of flesh that was a woman's tiny sibling to a man's mighty rod. My breathing became shallow as I pleasured myself, aware that this interlude of lust might be my last; certain if my tormentor not be pleased by my performance that oblivion awaited me.

I strained against the ligature holding my wrists together to free my arms so I could throw them around Garth. The chair to which they were tied moved and Garth drew away from me. I looked him in the eyes, frustration written on my face.

"You're a goddamn good actress if this is some kind of trick to get loose and try to escape. But you ain't going nowhere. You'll starve or freeze or get eaten up by a coyote or mountain lion or bear even if you do get away. There ain't no one else around for miles."

I thrust my pelvis up and down, inviting him to pleasure himself and me.

"This ain't no goddamn act. I need it right now. I just want to hold you in my arms. That's all. I'm not going to try to run away."

"What are you, some kind of nymphomaniac? You're in the clutches of your mortal enemy! I swear that I don't love you now and never will. When I think about what you are, it makes me sick. About all you got going for you are your looks."

"I may be naïve, but I don't believe you. There is some good in everyone. It just has to be brought out."

"You're fucking crazy!"

I thrust my pelvis up and down twice, shaking the table.

"Eat my pussy! Stick it in my ass if you'd like! Or just do it the regular way and stick it in my cunt. Just pleasure me!"

He knelt between my legs on the rough filthy floor. I craned my head to look at him as he regarded my pudenda with puzzlement. I wrapped my legs around his back and he tried to back away, but I held him in front of my pussy with all my strength.

"Isn't this where every guy would like to be?"

"You don't have no diseases, do you?"

"I've just been with one guy for the past three years, and he was a medical student. No, I don't think I have any diseases."

"There's just something not right about you wanting me to do you."

"You want me to scream and plead for you not to rape me?"

My legs were still wrapped around him and his face was just inches from my pussy. I could feel his breath on my labia.

"No. I want you to like it!"

"Then come on. Eat my pussy. It will be OK."

His face brightened. I smiled, and as his body relaxed, I flexed my knees and drew him forward.

He extended his tongue, lapped my pudenda, and then looked up at his captive for her approval. I smiled at him again, hoping to dissipate his anxiety, inwardly aghast that I was abetting my own rape.

He probed my labia with the tip of his tongue, and when he unexpectedly located my clitoris, I drew back and let out a guffaw. Startled, he backed away.

"What the hell was that?" He spat the words out, fearing the humiliation that might come with my reply.

"It tickled! That's all."

"You know, I never had money for fancy cars or expensive dinners or cool clothes, so I haven't gotten laid real often. I ain't no rich playboy, so don't expect any fancy tricks from me."

I suspected that the number of times he had gotten laid was somewhere between zero and one before I had the misfortune of being kidnapped, but I dared not humiliate him.

"You're fine, you're fine! It's not what a guy does, but how he does it, and what how sincere he is."

"Then you should be hating what I'm doing to you!"

"Garth, you tell me you hate me but at least you're honest about it. That makes you better than ninety percent of guys. Now just kiss me on the pussy. That would turn me on."

He began planting soft kisses on my labia. I wriggled my pelvis to stay in range of his lips. As my arousal built I moaned softly. Relaxed, I draped my legs over his shoulders and he buried his face between my legs.

His lips reached the top of my labia and his tongue emerged. My clitoris became engorged with blood as the tip of his tongue danced upon the sensitive flesh that surrounded it. My body stiffened and my legs again formed a cage that kept my tormentor from escaping, so I could force him to do what must be done for me to remain sane.

My breathing became shallow and irregular as I yielded to lust. My arousal ebbed and waned as I skirted orgasm. The chair shook against the floor as I tried in vain to free my wrists, but this time Garth did not divert his attention from the task of pleasuring his captive.

My moans turned to grunts and little screams. Making love had never been this intense. Sure that my life was soon to end, I was unencumbered by guilt or worry whether my partner loved me. I was using Garth as a vessel of pleasure, just as he was using me.

As his tongue delicately teased my clitoris, my partner desperately wanting to please the recipient of his first attempt at cunnilingus, I exploded into orgasm. My muscles relaxed as waves of pleasure emanating from my pudenda swept over my entire body. Overcome by an overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around the odious creature who I had allowed to pleasure me, I again tried to free my wrists to no avail.

My legs slid off his shoulders and he looked up. Eager for my approval, he regarded me with a nervous smile, as if waiting for a teacher to evaluate his performance on an examination.

"That was nice. I'm ready for you to fuck me now. But it would be nice if you kissed me first."

He planted his lips on mine. We kissed passionately, and I imagined the Yuletide truce during the First World War when the Germans and the British sang carols and crossed the trenches to exchange gifts. Had the soldiers then mutinied and embraced peace, it might have been a turning point in history, and as our tongues danced with each other, I fantasized that he might see the good in me just as those soldiers saw that their enemies were men just like them that one winter evening.

As we kissed, he finally penetrated me. My pussy was wet and my captor slid in without resistance. I rocked my pelvis in tandem to his thrusts. Our lips broke apart, and I saw him grimace as he tried to hold back his orgasm.

"You can let yourself go," I whispered.

His face relaxed as he spilled his seed into me. Seeing his pleasure aroused me, and I had another orgasm just as he made his final thrusts. When he finished ejaculating, he collapsed on my torso.

"Do you still hate me so much?" I whispered.

"It doesn't change who you are."

"I'll pleasure you any time you'd like. You don't have to worry about not getting laid anymore."

"No one must ever know that I am a race traitor. That still means there's only one way out for you."

"If I must die, just get a bottle of sleeping pills. I'll take a handful and chase it with a glass of whiskey, and then it will be over. I won't even leave a mess. And if the law catches up with you, just say that I came here of my own accord and then offed myself."

"I ain't finished with you yet. And what do you care what happens to me after I off you?"

"I guess I'm just sentimental."

He stood up.

"How much longer are you going to leave me here like this?"

He walked behind the table and untied my wrists. I sat up and let my legs dangle from the edge of the table.

"You have it pretty darn good now-no cops, a lot of money, and a girl to fuck anytime you want. You should just stay put here."

"When we take over, there's not gonna be any room for Jews. You might think I'm living some weird fantasy and that if you're not a mean bitch I'll come to my senses and let you go. But this ain't no fantasy. This is real, and things really are going to change in this country when we take over."

"So you're going to help kill us all when you come to power?"

"At least one in particular."

I frowned, as he obviously meant me.

"You liked what we just did."

"Yeah, it was good."

"You're the best I've ever had."

"Better than the guy you just broke up with?"

"He had a small dick."

"So you like a real man?"

"Uh-huh. But I'd prefer it if he didn't hate me."

"Don't feel bad. You can't help who you are. You told me that."

"So you respect me?"

"I didn't say that. You're still gonna get turned into toast someday. But you're not the worst of the lot.

"You ain't like one of those smart ass cocksucking Jew lawyers who's for abortion, rights for niggers, and fags getting married to each other. They're like one of them boa constrictors that wrap around a person and squeezes out their life before it swallows them up whole. You're more like a maggot that's eating some poor motherfucker's rotting flesh and has the misfortune to be picked off and smashed."

"I'm touched. And if I start being a bitch, make me stop."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"When I get down, I get short with people. Sometimes I say mean things."

"You start shooting off that mouth of yours, and you'll be in that shed for a couple of days with no food or water."

He took out a cigarette and blew the first puff high into the air.

"Can I have one?"

"Bitch, you're high maintenance."

But he took out a cigarette and placed it between my lips. I leaned over as he kindled a match and inhaled as he held it to the end of the cigarette. I took a deep drag and held it in my chest as the nicotine traveled through my bloodstream to my brain, activating my pleasure centers.

"These are better after you haven't had one for a long time."

I walked over to the kitchen cabinet and found a dirty glass. I flicked an ash into it as I walked back to the table, onto which I placed the glass to use as an ashtray.

"You thinking about trying to keep this place clean? It's a sty, and it's always gonna be that way."

"Please, let me try to make it a little nice!"

"I don't give a shit what you do, as long as you don't cause me no trouble."

I took another drag on my cigarette.

"Do you mind if I have a little more of that whiskey?"

"Go ahead."

I opened the bottle, took a swig, and then handed it to Garth. He took a gulp and set the bottle back onto the table.

"I know what those guys on death row feel like now."

"Bullshit. They're murderers and rapists. You just ran into some bad luck."

"So I'm not bad?'

"Not like them, but that don't mean I can let you live. You're more or less harmless now, I guess, but once we start taking out your aunts and uncles and cousins, I know which side you're gonna be on."

"You're damn right."

"That's why I gotta kill you someday."

I took another sip of whiskey.

"Hey, I didn't say you could have that!"

I took another drag on the cigarette and vigorously exhaled the smoke.

"I didn't see you try to stop me!"

The cigarette was dangling from my lips when he grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind my back.

"How am I supposed to smoke this with my hands tied behind my back?" I asked as he bound my wrists with my scarf.

"I don't give a flying fuck!"

"Shit!" I exclaimed as the cigarette fell out of my mouth and landed on my thigh briefly before falling to the floor.

"Drunken fucking bitch!" he exclaimed while retrieving my lit cigarette from the floor.

"Hey, it's your booze!"

He stroked my thigh.

"You got nice legs; not too fat and not too thin."

"I worked out to keep my ass from getting too big."

He placed his hand on my thigh. I felt my heart speed up.

"I didn't care about the fucking whiskey. You can have more if you want. And I ain't worried about you trying something now. Tying up girls is just my thing."

"You're into bondage?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what they call it."

"Can I have another puff from my cigarette?"

He held it to my lips and I took a drag.

"You don't look like someone who's given up smoking."

"I was thinking about the future. But it doesn't look like I have one now."

"Damn straight."

"So what do you do with these girls once you've tied them up? Fuck 'em?"

"Watch 'em try to get loose. Enjoy seeing them worry about what comes next. Maybe point a gun at their head."

He lifted his pistol to my temple and cocked the trigger.

"Garth, you're scaring me!"

He released the trigger and put the gun down.

"Or wring her neck with my bare hands."

His meaty right hand closed around my throat. I began wriggling out of the ligature he had placed around my wrists and this time I succeeded. I instinctively grabbed his hand and tried to pull it away from my throat, but his grip was like iron and he didn't budge.

I then reached between his legs to grab his testicles and he let go, and immediately seized each of my wrists. I sat before him, helpless again, pleading for mercy with my eyes.

"Think you can fight back? It won't work, I guarantee you."

It was as if both of my wrists were enclosed by vises. Remembering last night in my apartment, I was terrified I'd be beaten.

"Please, it was just instinct. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I was just fucking with you. And there's no way you can hurt me, at least without a gun or a knife."

"Can you let go of my wrists then?"

"Sure."

He released me. I grabbed my cigarette and took another drag.

"Have some more whiskey!" he said as he passed me the bottle.

I took another swig.

"We're gonna have a helluva hangover tomorrow!" I exclaimed.

"That's about all there is to do here-drink and screw."

"I second that!"

I took another gulp of whiskey, bigger than the last one, hoping that somehow my captivity would seem less loathsome as my inebriation deepened.

"Hey, let me tie your hands behind your back again. I like looking at you that way. But take the rest of your clothes off first."

"You'll let me know if you're going to kill me, right?"

"Sure thing."

I removed my tank top and slid the brassiere off my shoulders. I turned my back to my captor and offered him my wrists. He tied them together a bit tighter this time.

He held the whiskey bottle to my lips and poured more of the liquor down my throat. I wobbled with dizziness from my inebriation but he steadied me as my mouth filled with whiskey that I was forced to swallow.

"I am really getting smashed!"

"You'll be glad you're so fucked up when you see what's coming next. Excuse me!"