Freeing Lana (12 page)

Be
careful what you ask for…ring a bell, sister?

Hell yea it did, but
she couldn’t see regretting this, not by a long shot. Bring the pain,
motherfucker, bring the pain. She was pulled from her thoughts abruptly as she
felt his hand tighten around her hair, lifting her to her feet.

“Anything I want?”

“God
yes, anything.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

Tom Tinkerton shifted
in his chair, the dream causing him to stir where he lay. He was back in the
house, Daniel’s house, just like before. He had snuck in without being detected
and was creeping toward the kitchen. Just as he started out of the safety of
the darkness, he caught a glimpse of Daniel, turning and walking toward the
bedroom. Tinkerton started to call out his name, but stopped, choosing instead
to follow him. As the man turned through the doorway out of sight, he caught a
shimmering of some sort in his hand. What the hell was this fool up to?

He eased his way
through the kitchen and slunk along the wall. He could hear Daniel saying
something, forced and not overly unstrained. Beneath his words, Tinkerton heard
something else. It was the woman, the fucking woman. She was crying, almost
talking; he couldn’t quite make it out. But as he stepped closer to the
doorway, he could make it out, she was pleading, her words mangled, gurgled
almost. Fuck’s sake, this was a shit storm. His hand went to the pistol on his
belt, instinctively unhooking the leather strap over the handle grip, as he
prepared to pull it out. He stepped out into the doorway. The man was leaning
over the woman, strangling her while he raped her.

“What the fuck are you
doing?!” he shouted.

Everything blurred. The
woman looked up at him, straight in his eyes as she yelled at him to help her,
her voice no longer strained. He pointed the gun at Daniel, only it wasn’t
Daniel anymore. It was him, somehow it was him, strangling the woman, raping
her, and all the while staring back at
himself
,
laughing.

“Help me!” she screamed
again.

“Yea, help me!” the
man, the other Tinkerton, the Daniel Tinkerton thing said, mocking him.

He squeezed the trigger…bang!

The woman screamed. The
Daniel, Tinkerton thing laughed.

Bang! Bang!

He jolted upright in
the recliner, spilling the beer he still held in his hand.

“Shit. Not again.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

The bed they shared
didn’t rest on a frame. Instead, the box springs and mattress lay flat on the
floor. There were several advantages to this, and while one less place to try
and get a vacuum cleaner under was one, the most important feature came to Lana
now. Sergio led her, still gripping her by her hair to the bed, and with her
still on her knees, pushed her up against the bed. Without the frame, it was
the perfect height to allow her to stand on her knees on the floor, while
resting her belly on the bed. It was in this position she now found herself, knees
on the floor and hips pinned to the side of the bed.

His fingers slid
effortlessly over the wet slit, sliding upwards before collapsing together
between her uplifted ass cheeks. Natural lubrication allowed two of his fingers
to slip into her ass with relative ease, the mere tightened muscles surrounding
its entry point being the only true resistance. With the fingers of both hands
spread to the side of each ‘cheek,’ his thumbs found themselves an inch apart,
on either side of the Cyclop-tic brown eye which now seemed destined to have
its vision violently, if not permanently obscured. Is he about to…

You
bet your tight ass he is.

Lana did her best to
relax, knowing the pain she would soon feel, the pressure of his swollen dick
being shoved up her ass would not be as torturous as the plastic bat, knowing
it represented the truest form of worship she had prayed for him to require.
Still, when his thumbs pressed hard into the muscles of her ass and
then pulled apart from each other to allow, if only a bit, easier access to her
darkened soul, a minute sense of anxiety reared its head.
Sure, she had
every intention of diving from this cliff, freefalling into the unknown depths
below, but still a concern for the water’s depth was present, if only in the
back of her mind.

His finger nails took
root in her skin, as he squeezed his fingers together, tightening the muscles
in her ass, while further separating the outer limits of the entry point he
now, beyond any doubt, intended to use. For brief moment, Lana thought he might
stop long enough to ask her if it was still ok, a – please don’t make me do
this –plea, and a question arose which surprised her. What would you say? Was
she certain she wanted him to do ‘whatever’ he wanted? It saddened her to some
degree, as her resolve remained iron clad. If he actually asked that, she
probably would tell him not to, and then she would get up, get dressed and walk
the fuck out.

Really?
Are you sure a part of you just
doesn’t want to go back to that place, that place where you first encountered
this?
Really?

No, that wasn’t it at
all, and she was certain of that. She just wanted him to…

Stop?

No, be
himself
, let her be herself. But there was no more time for
internal conflict, as Sergio applied the head of his dick to the stretched out
opening between his thumbs and without hesitating for even a fraction of a
second, shoved forward forcefully and fully, his dick, burying itself
completely inside her asshole. Lightning bolts shot through her, racing from
ripped skin to her brain, telling her to experience exquisite pain, before
sending the electric currents traveling back down her body in rapid floods of
pulsating twinges of erotic spasms.

Fully inserted, his
hands left her ass, repositioning just above her hips, pulling her back toward
him while pushing her downward, further into the softness of the bed. His knees
on the floor, inside her own, prevented any chance of her being able to
diminish the availability of access to her. She was truly vulnerable,
completely helpless, and maddeningly ecstatic. She had offered herself to him
and he was accepting her gift, by giving her what she craved most, acceptance.

Leaning forward and
applying more pressure to the tops of her hips and lower back as his weight
pinned her to the bed, threatened to shove her through the bed to the floor
below, Sergio’s thrusts became more forceful. Her muscles were unable to relax
under the strain of his weight, as they were being forced together at the exact
point he was forcing them apart. It teetered on the brink of impossibility, as
resistance heightened to a point of near impenetrability while being forcefully
shattered with brute force.

She rocked inside with
each thrust while the rest of her was unable to move. Again and again, he
thrust himself fully inside her, his balls slamming against her pussy
underneath, slapping so forcefully against her sopping wet opening, she felt
she might have been able to grab hold of them and hold them inside her as well.

He was taking her to a
level of pain and pleasure she hadn’t imagined he could. When he lowered his
weight back to his knees, and slowly pulled himself out of her, she found she
was both relieved and saddened at the same time. Dear God, she didn’t think she
could have survived much more of that, but oh how she wanted to know. His hands
returned to her ass, though his finger tips stopped just short of releasing her
hips, holding some semblance of their grip without the downward pressure. Now,
it was his palms rather than his thumbs, which dug into the thicker muscles,
again spreading her ass cheeks apart, while collapsing them in the grip of his
hands. He’s not done?

No, he was not done. He
pushed forward again, painfully forcing his dick completely inside her ass. A
slow deliberate retreat followed, the battered rim of her ass collapsing
against itself as the last of him exited, only to be assaulted again as another
thrust quickly spread them apart and she felt the full length of him inside her
again. The initial insertion was painful, but exhilarating, the prolonged
thrusts once he was inside crossed the line into pure pleasure, but this, this
was something new altogether, but somehow strangle familiar. It was…

Like
a baseball bat?

Yea, it was like that.
But the question remained, had he crossed over to the point she had hoped, to
express his own pleasure at her expense, her pain, or was his pleasure being
derived solely from her pain? The way Lana saw it, there was a huge difference.

Are
you allowed to draw lines in a world with no lines?

She didn’t care. The moment
was becoming lost, bickering with
herself
, trying to
decide if she was in fact getting what she asked for, or something entirely
different. His thrusts became more pronounced, as he focused most of his
strength on the actual entry, in and out, again and again, no longer fully
inserting inside her, but rather rushing back out in order to insert again.

So,
what of his ‘true’ self is something you don’t like at all?

Hell of a question,
unfortunately, she didn’t have the answer, not yet. She was shaken out of her
thoughts when his hand grabbed her hair and jerked her head back violently.
Before she knew it, he had looped his belt around her neck and was pulling it
tight against her throat. The constant entry-exit technique had pretty much
stopped now, however, and he had returned to full insertions, actually fucking
her again, as she saw it. But the belt was so tight, and he was pulling so
hard. Lana tried to concentrate on the ass fucking, knowing it was the better
of the two options, but her mind was quickly finding trouble focusing on
anything, even the fact she could no longer breathe. Faintly, she heard a voice
behind her, seemingly calling to her from the other side of some sort of
tunnel.

“Is this what you want,
you fucking whore? Is this what you want?”

For the first time, she
became scared. She tried to struggle, pulling at the belt with her hands, but
he quickly pulled her wrists together and held them behind her back with one
hand, his other still pulling on the belt. Her mind drifted to the other time,
the last night with that psych fucker, she had been scared that night too. But
she had managed to fight through it, convincing herself it wasn’t real, that
instead of getting fucked by that crazy fucker, she was getting fucked by…

This crazy fucker?

Fuck! Had she pushed
him too far? Was he punishing her for insisting he do this? She had no clue,
all she knew was that she was in trouble again, only this time, she didn’t
think Ol’ Tink was going to come crashing through the door, gun blazing.

“You like it like this,
whore! You want me to rape you, to kill you! Don’t you?!”

This was it. She knew
it was; she was going to die right here, like this. But the realization had a
much different effect than she thought. It didn’t cause her to panic, to fear
what came next. She settled into the realization that the moment was simply
what it was; she had asked him to be himself, to use her for whatever he
wanted, and this was what he wanted, to kill her while he fucked her. She had
begged him to be himself, and now he was. She stopped struggling; both
physically and in her head, surrendering
herself
to
the notion that in her death, she would become the ultimate sacrifice for his
pleasure, become what she truly was. She felt a sense of warming peace wash
over her, and then the blackness set in completely, and she felt nothing.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR

“So what was it then?”

Lana looked at the
floor, searching for the answer she couldn’t find within herself. She had no
idea. For the most part it was momentous, spiritual even, a delicate dance of
decadence, but something else had been present as well, something darker even
that the beast she had come to recognize within herself.

“I’m not sure,’ she
finally said, looking back at Tink. “I mean it was great. Shit, he got up early
and left for work this morning, I think so he wouldn’t have to look at me.
That’s what we strive for right, the kind of sex which we can’t even talk about
afterward?”

“Sometimes,” he said,
laughing slightly, but the look was back on his face, the one from before, the
one which kept asking if she was ok. She didn’t like that look; she appreciated
it but she didn’t like it. “But in my line of work, I’ve noticed some of the
real monsters, the really bad ones, had trouble even looking at pictures of
their victims.”

“So what are you
saying?”

“Nothing really, but
let’s be honest with each other here. Now, I’m not the one to go around
criticizing anyone’s kink, whether it is kinkier than mine or not, and while
everything you told me sounds feasible in world or another, there is one thing
which doesn’t.”

“The
anger?”

“Yea,
the anger.
The way you described it, it sounded
more like a gesture of belittling you, showing you that you weren’t thinking
clear…that you were, to use his own words, just a whore.”