tagRomanceThe Entity Pt. 09

The Entity Pt. 09


This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment.


Chapter 24

Fox News – Some people are asking why an election is even being considered. The democratic hopeful, Arthur Wright, no longer appears to be a hopeful. Some republican's have already ceded the upcoming election and feel campaign funds and energy could be better spent preparing for the next election.

Teddy rolled on her back and stretched luxuriantly. She reveled in the feel of her new body. The smooth skin, her beautiful red hair, and how it all made her feel.

Slipping from between the sheets, she left Michael sleeping and wobbled to the bathroom. She felt stronger than the previous day. Probably from all the exercise, she thought with a crooked smile. But she knew that once her day got started, she'd need her walker, or at least a cane.

Sitting on the edge of her bath, she drew some hot water and slid in to soak.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Michael's probe startled her. "Michael! Come join me."

"In a minute. I wanted to see what you'd like for breakfast. The nurse is here and said we actually get to order today. Anything we want." His lopsided grin told Teddy how great the prospect of real food was.

"Two poached, three strips of bacon and juice. And, Michael."


"Put a robe on." They both laughed.


Tammy woke when her chain pulled tight causing her to choke. She could feel Allessandra's arm lying over her stomach and noted the woman was sound asleep.

They'd laid awake, whispering, trying to come up with a plan and exchanging information. Tammy knew Allessandra was the woman from the hotel that detective Bronson was looking for.

Giving Bob time to fall asleep they'd tested the chain and found it was looped several times around the bed frame, leaving each barely enough chain to lie back without choking. Shoulder to shoulder, they'd finally fallen asleep.

She could hear kitchen noises and knew that Bob was awake, in the kitchen, probably having breakfast. Glancing around the room in the soft light that filtered around the heavy curtains, she found no phone.

Sliding the drawer on the nightstand on her side of the bed open, she couldn't see inside, but her hand played around and she knew it was empty. Allessandra's too, she thought.

The door she suspected was a walk-in closet; was closed. Suddenly she had an urge to pee and wished Bob would show up. She thought about yelling but decided that might set him off.

Nudging Allessandra, she waited until her eyes opened and whispered, "Just do whatever he wants. I will too. Linda will come soon."

Before she could explain who Linda was, the door burst open and Bob strode in carrying Allessandra's dog dish and a plate.

"And how's my little doggie this morning?"

Bob seemed cheery again, speaking his happy doggy speak for Allessandra.

Setting the bowl on the floor beside the bed, Bob threw the set of keys between them and reached in his pocked to pull the gun out. "Now be a good little doggie and come to, papa."

Allessandra pulled an arm out from under the covers and fumbled with the keys until she found the one that opened her chain. Rubbing her neck, she looked at Bob before throwing the keys back. Pushing the covers back, she got on her hands and knees and crawled off the bed. "What a good doggie! Isn't she a good doggie, dear?"

Tammy's voice croaked as she answered, "Y yes, dear. She's a good doggie."

"Here's your food. Come on and eat." Bob slapped his thigh and pointed down at the bowl. Allessandra crawled over and found scrambled eggs. Lowering her head she started to eat.

"And you, dear. Look! I've brought you breakfast in bed."

Bob set a plate with scrambled eggs and a slice of toast on the bedspread beside Tammy. "Eat up, dear. We have a lot to do today."

Tammy pushed up against the headboard, the covers falling away and reached for the plate, scraping the food off silently with her fingers. Taking the piece of toast, she tore it in half and called to Allessandra, "Here, pooch, do you want a piece of toast? Come on." She hated doing it but knew it was her only hope of sharing the bread with the woman. Allessandra crawled back on the bed and sat back on her haunches as Tammy tore the bread into pieces and placed them in the woman's mouth.

"What a good girl!" Bob was absolutely ecstatic.

Tammy took the moment to ask if they could have a bathroom break. "Why sure, dear." Looking down at Allessandra he held up his forefinger and put on a stern face, the pistol hung loosely in his other hand. "Stay. Stay, you bitch!"

Throwing the keys on the bed he watched as Tammy fumbled with her lock, the chain finally falling on the pillows. Realizing his vulnerability, Bob cocked the gun and stepped back to the doorway.

"You know where it is, dear. Go ahead."

Finishing, Tammy walked back into the bedroom to find Allessandra with a chain around her neck, Bob holding the other end.

"Come on, dear, we need to take the dog out."

When realization hit, Tammy tried to figure out how to stop it from happening. "But, dear, isn't our doggie house broke?"

"But you know how much doggie likes to go outside, dear."

Resigned, Tammy looked around for something to put on when Bob said, "You're fine, dear. Come on. Doggie needs to pee."

Tammy's blood boiled but she saw the handgun, cocked and ready, in Bob's hand and stepped past him into the hallway.

"Oh, and, dear. Be sure to stay close. You know how much trouble I have with doggie sometimes. I wouldn't want to have to shoot the bitch."

When Bob opened the sliding glass door off the dining room, Allessandra crawled out on the rough planking of the deck ahead of them. At the edge of the deck she stopped. Tammy stepped up and saw her predicament. Finally, fed up, she turned to Bob, cocked her hip, planted a hand and pointed a finger, "Look, Bob, this is getting ridiculous. The stairs are too steep. She can't get down them. Just let her go back in the house and use the bathroom inside. There's a perfectly good bathroom in there!"

She almost gagged when Bob shoved the barrel of the gun into the soft part of her cheek, "Shut the fuck up!" Bob's face was red, his cheek pressed against the handgun as he kept pressing it harder into her cheek. "I want our doggie to go outside," Bob started yelling, spittle landing on her face, "So this fucking bitch is going in the yard were all dogs go!"

Bob stopped yelling, his breathing ragged.

Tammy finally nodded, the gun bobbing up and down with her head.

The gun was back down and Bob was back to his happy doggie talk, Allessandra, bottom up, trying to negotiate the stairs.

"See, dear. You just don't understand doggies like I do. You're so silly sometimes."

Tammy nodded in agreement, a silly grin on her face.


Linda had slept little. Sitting on the edge of her bed she tried to find a plan of action. Something she could do that would help Tammy.

After Pete left she'd driven to the office. After two hours of moping around, repeatedly asking where the hell the Entity was, the Captain had ordered her home.

"You're not helping anyone, Woo. You're certainly not helping, Tammy. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order!"

She could have protested but she knew he was right. Sleep had finally come, sometime in the gray hours of early morning.

Now, wandering into the kitchen, she picked up her cell phone to see if any messages had arrived. Nothing. Searching the refrigerator she grabbed half a grapefruit and a yogurt.

Calling the office, she found Tom was still there.

"Nothing, Linda. Pete checked in twice during the night. They really have nothing to go on. Why don't you get your laptop out and maybe Michael will find you. I'm not sure what he can do, but there might be something.

Wandering back to her bedroom, Linda threw herself on her unmade bed and curled around a pillow. They'd found no entry point, no jimmy marks or broken windows. The neighbors had not seen or heard anything.

How the hell did you get in, thought Linda, as she took the handgun Pete had given her from her nightstand and shoved it under her pillow, closing her eyes to the nightmare that her life had become.


"Now, what I need, dear, is a shot of you with your doggie."

Bob had given Tammy, the golden evening dress again, and the gold and ruby broach to go with it. She was thankful just to have some clothes to wear.

Now he stood with Sara's digital camera in one hand, the gun in the other and was talking to Allessandra.

"Come on! Up on the bed with, Mommy! That's a good girl."

Bob walked around the bed taking in the sight and finally decided he was safe. Sliding the handgun into his pants pocked, he stood at the foot of the bed giving direction.

"Okay, Tammy. Lean against the head of the bed and fold your legs in front of you."

"Why, Bob," Tammy's voice was dead and unemotional.

Bob paid no attention. "Okay, girl, when mommy finally remembers that if she doesn't do what I want, I'll shoot you, I want you to curl in front of her, your head on her lap." The happy doggie speak sounded out of place when wrapped around the threat.

Tammy stared, boring holes through, Bob, while repositioning herself as instructed. Allessandra complied immediately.

Bob snapped a few pictures and had Allessandra move some, her bare breasts obviously the focus of the picture.

"Okay, dear, now put your hand on doggies head and pet her."

Tammy did as told. "You have to smile, honey, like you're happy with your doggie."

Tammy thought about protesting again but abandoned the idea recalling the consequences it could carry for Allessandra.

"That's just great!" Bob was very happy with himself.

"Okay, doggie, off the bed. You know mommy doesn't like dog hair on the bedspread."

Allessandra pulled herself up on hands and knees again and crawled off the bed.

Bob threw the keys on the bed and waved with the gun indicating Tammy should free herself again. "Give me the dress, I don't want you getting it dirty."

Resigned, Tammy undid the clasp and stepped out of the evening gown, leaving it on the floor.

Bob waved Tammy toward Allessandra and said, "Undo our doggie, dear."

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock. Could this be it? Is that all he wanted? Was he going to shoot them both and leave their bodies to be discovered months from now?

"Very good. Now put this on," Bob threw another length of chain, the one used to bring Allessandra upstairs, on the bed and waved at it with the gun.

Tammy picked it up and locked one end on Allessandra's collar as it had been before.

"You too, dear. Just lock it to your collar."

Finished, she stood and looked at Bob, the weight of the chain pulling on her neck. It only heightened her need to throw up.

"Come on, bitch, you know where you belong!"

Bob was back to happy doggie talk again and Tammy followed Allessandra down the steep basement stairs, afraid she might tumble head first any second, killing them both.

She saw a wine rack with a few dusty bottles, a furnace and water heater. Bob nudged her to the left and she saw a wooden workbench. Nudging again she saw another door. Beyond that was darkness.

"What are you doing, Bob?" Tammy's voice trembled and her step faltered as Allessandra continued crawling toward the door, pulling the chain tight between them.

Bob just pressed the cold steel of the gun into her bare back and shoved.

Once in the dirt floor fruit cellar, Bob undid Allessandra's end of the chain and Tammy watched as he ran it behind an exposed pipe in the corner of the room. Walking back to Allessandra, he reconnected the chain, walked to the door and turned off the light.

Tammy watched as Bob closed the door without comment leaving them in total darkness.

Allessandra was already crying.


Linda jerked awake. She'd been dreaming, falling, almost hitting bottom, when some part of her decided she needed to get up. She moaned when she saw how late it was. Almost six in the evening. I've lost the entire day.

Wide awake, she listened. Sliding the gun out, she padded through the apartment looking in every room, checking the floor for broken glass below each window.

Finally deciding she was safe, she put the gun on the vanity in the bathroom and took a shower. Going over Tammy's disappearance, she decided she and Pete must have missed something. Toweling off, she got dressed and resolved to search for his entry point again.

Finally stopping in Tammy's room, she stood in front of the empty closet and stared at nothing in particular. Stepping in to pull the door shut, she noticed a very faint footprint of black soot. Looking up she saw it.

The small square of painted plywood in the ceiling of the closet that gave access to a small service area for the plumbing was shoved to one side just enough that it looked out of place. Getting a stool from the kitchen, she climbed up and stuck her head through the dark hole.

To the left she could see a drop off and pulled herself up further. Looking over the edge she saw pipes that ran off in the darkness. Plumbing for the two bathrooms. She slowly spun onto her back in the tight access and saw how Fred Johnston, actually, Bob Nunn had gained access.

She could see a faint glow, fading daylight, shining through a dingy skylight on the roof. A workers access for getting to the plumbing without getting in through the apartments.


Sliding backwards through the ceiling access in her closet, a photograph laying in the dust and soot of the small crawl space caught her eye. Too clean to have been there long, she grabbed it and slid down into the closet. Inspecting the photo she saw a modern log cabin set in a wooded area. A large front yard, attached garage and a gravel driveway. Turning the photo over she found an address and directions explaining how to get there.

This must be it, she thought. Sarah was a realtor and this is where Bob took Tammy.

She slipped the small handgun into the top of her jeans in the small of her back, grabbed the keys to her apartment and ran down the stairs.

Heading out in her car across the bay, a light fog was rolling in and she was forced to moderate her speed. Still weaving around traffic, trying to read the directions as she rolled off the other side of the Golden Gate bridge, she failed to notice the SUV that was keeping pace, a quarter of a mile back.

Taking the indicated exit she sat at the top of the off ramp, engine idling, as she made sure she had the right road. Turning left, she pushed the Jag as hard as she dared on the narrow, county road.

Fifteen minutes and ten miles later she came to the sharp turn to the right indicated by the handwriting on the back of the photograph. She could smell the ocean and see a ship's lights reflected off the dark murky mat of water, off in the distance.

Negotiating the turn, she pushed ahead. The SUV was lost in the dark, headlights off, still keeping pace.

Finding a road to the left, she finally identified the 'old tractor' in a field, weeds high around the heavy iron wheels, and turned left. Turning her headlights off, she knew she was getting close.

Rolling slowly, she missed the lane and drove past before she could stop. Backing up she cursed the red glow of her brake lights as she stopped again and turned right.

The photo said two miles. Watching her odometer, she rolled to a stop at the one mile mark. Shutting off the engine, she eased out of her car and gently clicked the door shut. Walking along the lane, she found a path going into the woods that appeared to branch off to the other side of the house.

Taking the path, she finally came to an open grassy space, the log house about seventy feet away. Stooping behind a rotting log she hunkered down and reached for her cell phone. "Damn!"

Having left without it in her haste to find Tammy, she turned back to the house and watched. What now, she thought.

A snapping branch somewhere in the woods behind drew her attention away from the house. Trying to pierce the dark shadows she decided it was some wild animal and continued to study the layout.

The blow was hard and to the base of her skull. Linda fell in a heap and the big guy said, "You get the car and meet me at the road. The, Doctor, said to make it look like an accident. We can use that cliff back at the big turn."

Picking up Linda's prone form, he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and trudged off through the woods.


Beth grunted as she shoved back against the Doctor.

"Tell me," she panted. "Tell me what a good little girl I am!"

The doctor ran his hands across the smooth skin of her hips and pulled her hard, impaling her again, "Yes, you're daddy's good little girl," he cooed.

Thirty minutes later, exhausted and covered in sweat, Beth rolled off the bed and padded to her bathroom. Passing her laptop on her way back to bed, she noted the Doctor's snores and decided it was time TIM came back to life.

Booting up her machine, she clicked the icon twice and watched as the complex system went through a self test and memory allocation process.

A sleeping face on her screen finally opened its eyes and came to life.

Loading a set of instructions, Beth pushed away from the table and crawled back between the sheets with the Doctor, curling up behind him.


Tammy's bright red hair turned to flames and played across a black background. Her emerald eyes were smiling and her lips moved. Linda tried to understand but could only hear a pulsing rush in her ears.

Tammy's hand came up and pulled on her shoulder. Suddenly, the delicate touch was replaced by a rough pull as a meaty paw came into view.

"Let's see what you have in your pockets, sweetie."

She felt her body rolled over, someone digging in her pockets. Opening her eyes she saw a red faced man with no neck. His short brown hair looked greasy, sticking out at odd points from a bad haircut. His face was round and fat, his cheeks puffing and a flush radiated from his ears.

The probing became personal and Linda kicked, finding only air. "Get off me you asshole!"

"Oh. A feisty one. And cute too."

Pulling on her hands they didn't come up, bound by a length of cord behind her back. Wiggling she tried to move out from under the man. Her head rocked when the back of his hand came down across her face.

"Keep still! We still got things to do!"

Another form came into view at her feet. Short and skinny, a black shape in his hand was trained on her stomach. A gun, she thought. Her gun, she finally realized.

She saw the photograph of the log house float above her as the first man flipped it in his fingers and finally tucked it from view in his pocket.

She closed her eyes when his hands roamed her body. Ostensibly a search. In reality a chance to grope.

"Give me the gun and get that thing."

Taking the gun, the fat man stood over Linda, an evil smile played across his face, the gun lax but pointed.

"Put this on her head."

Linda tried struggling again and was rewarded with a kick to her side, "I said hold still!"

Something that looked like a fancy pair of headphones was slipped over her head. "Okay. You got a connection?"

"Give me a minute. We're out in the middle of nowhere."

Glancing along her body, Linda could see the other man bent over a shiny metal briefcase, adjusting something and typing on a keyboard.

"There! Now keep her still."

"You're gonna like this, sweetie," the gun still pointed.

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