Freeing Lana (17 page)

Sergio
Marsilis
pulled into the Wholesale Warehouse just
before noon and sat there with the car idling for what must have seemed like an
eternity to anyone else. For the last two hours he had been driving around, not
really going anywhere in particular, or in accordance with a specific pattern.
He vaguely remembered an occasional red light, and he was fairly certain he had
stopped to let a dog cross the street, a black lab id he was remembering
correctly. Aside for that, he couldn’t have given any account of where he had
been or what he had seen.

As
he sat behind the wheel of the Saab, the radio just loud enough to know it was
on, but with no way of telling what was being sung by whom or what fantastic
product was being endorsed by the always helpful
Rockin
’
Ray, the unquestionably trustworthy morning DJ for KJAM,
the only station you’ll ever need, guaranteed!
He was staring at
his cell phone, at the four missed calls, all from the same number – 733-8475.

He
knew the number by heart in spite of the fact he had long ago deleted its owner
from his address book. He had ignored the first call, and when it had
immediately rung again, he had glanced at his phone long enough to see who was
calling. By the time it had stopped ringing on the fourth call, it had been an
angry Sergio who had pulled the car into the parking lot. What in the world
could she possibly have to say that he wanted to hear today of all days? Not a
damn thing, that’s what.

It
was no wonder he hadn’t been able to make her happy; he wasn’t the sick twisted
fuck that had kidnapped her, just a guy that actually loved her, but that wasn’t
what she wanted of course. She had made that point clearly enough, and what he
had seen this morning only proved that even further. He found himself wondering
why he even bothered, why he still gave a
shit
at
all. He was trying to understand, even making an attempt at becoming what she
wanted, but he knew he couldn’t go that far, not as far as that fucker had gone
even if it was what she wanted.

He
got out of his car and headed into the building, still holding the cell phone,
but thirty minutes later, he was back in his car. It had been ample time to go
to his office, call the corporate headquarters and resign. That had taken less
than a minute, since he had not been interested in
the speech
, hanging up before Todd Anderson could even get started
with it really. What took the most time was closing all his accounts with the
company, opting out of the retirement fund, cancelling the 401K, etc.

He
turned up the volume on the Pioneer in time to hear good Ol’ Ray explain that
The Lumber Library had anything he could possibly need to complete any project
he could possibly imagine. Good to know, he reasoned and pulled out of the
parking lot. By the time he turned onto MLK Boulevard, Ol’ Ray had finally shut
up and Alice Cooper was singing some maniacal lyrics about a bed of nails, just
another Way Back Lunch Hour classic, brought to you by the programming geniuses
at KJAM, the only ones who
“still give a
damn about you”
, or so they were fond of saying. That was good since no one
else did.

Sergio
made two stops on the way back to his apartment. The first had been to check
Rockin
’ Ray’s claim, and it had in fact been accurate as
they did have anything he could possibly need, well almost. If he had been able
to get everything he needed, he wouldn’t have had to make the second stop, the
one at Aaron Skinner’s house. He didn’t live in Colorado, or even Washington State,
so his second purchase of the day required a coded phone call about “flowers”
and then a trip to the lower income side of town that Aaron called home. He was
pretty sure he still had the pipe somewhere at the apartment, somewhere in the
back of the bedroom closet most likely.

The
delivery men from The Lumber Library showed up a little after three, and by
then he had already drawn out the schematics in a spiral notebook, and had
started on his second joint, and the desired ingredient – not the THC, but the
ingredient “fuck it” that
Katt
Williams was always
saying the weed had in it – had begun to take effect. He opened the door and
returned to his recliner, watching the men carry the lumber into the bedroom.
The “fuck it” was in full effect now and he continued to smoke the joint as the
men worked, simply nodding as the men smiled a seemingly jealous recognition
that it wasn’t a Marlboro between his fingers. Apparently the pipe had long ago
disappeared.

Sergio
tipped each of the men a fifty dollar bill as they left, and while they clearly
appreciated it, he was sure he saw a look in the eyes of one of them that said
he would gladly give it back if Sergio would only be so kind as to light up one
more time and share. Maybe another day perhaps, but he had a lot of work to do right
now. He locked the door behind them and headed into the bedroom.

2

Lori
was a bit taken back when he opened the door completely naked, his hair still
wet from the shower he had just stepped out of, but she gave him a pleased
smile just the same. She locked the door and followed him into the area that
served both as a kitchen and dining room. He again saw the amusingly puzzled
look on her face as her eyes fell on the items stacked on the table. The rope,
the restraints and aside from the longer straps, everything she knew from the
bedroom was here.

“In
here tonight then?” She was looking at the closed bedroom door.

Sergio
didn’t answer, only grinned, taking the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over
her head. She stepped out of the sandals, but when she reached for the
waistband of her shorts, he stopped her hands and lifted them above her head.
He took hold of the shorts himself and lowered them to her feet before stepping
back enough to let her step out of them as well. She let her head roll forward
and her long black hair fell over closed eyes when he softly touched the small
section of red silk that covered most of her pussy. She was wearing panties
tonight, and he was actually glad of it.

He
took her by the shoulders and turned her around, and she did what was expected
of her, placing her hands obediently behind her back. Sergio bound them
together, taking the time to place a kiss on the back of her neck as he worked.
He retrieved the hood from the table and placed it over head, only instead of
connecting it to her hands as he had always done before, he produced a small
padlock and tightened the cable enough so the hood couldn’t be removed before
locking it in place.

Sergio
was watching her as he pulled the strip of duct tape from the roll, and just as
he expected, her head tilted slightly in uncertainty at the sound. As he placed
the first strip over the blowjob hole in the mask, he saw her lips part as if
she was about to say something. Was it “revolution?” It really didn’t matter
now, he mused. After all, once your lips are sealed, no one really gives a shit
what your safe word was, now did they? He rounded her neck twice with the roll
of tape, securing the first piece in place over her mouth, but careful not to
wrap it so tight it restricted her breathing.

He
took a step back and watched as she wiggled under the restraints that bound her
hands. Mumbled protests – he assumed they were protests, though a part of him
wondered if she might be trying to thank him, but he couldn’t be certain –
escaped, barely audible from inside the hood. When she tried to walk backward
toward the door, he reached out with his left hand and caught hold of the thin
cable running just under her chin at the bottom of the hood.

“Relax,
little one,” he said coyly, “you’re going to just love this.”

Sergio
Marcilis
reached behind his back, and then twisting
at the hips and pivoting on his right toes, punched her in the mouth as hard as
he could. The bound and gagged Lori tumbled backward over the recliner, long
luscious legs pointing toward the ceiling, spreading in midair and revealing
the wetness that just seconds earlier had begun to appear on the red silk
material. The recliner toppled under her weight and she was sent sprawling on
the other side of it, feet still reaching up to the ceiling. He couldn’t
contain the laugh that found its way to his lips at the comical sight of her in
this position.

“I
told you that you were going to love this,” he teased as he grabbed her by one
of her wrists and began to drag her to the bedroom. Lori tried to get her feet
under her as he pulled her along, giving the impression of some awkward two
legged crab walk.
The elusive Red
Crotched Crab
makes its way to its secret mating place, he thought to
himself as he opened the bedroom door and pulled her inside.

He
had no doubts that if she could have seen it, Lori would have been impressed
with what he had created in anticipation of her arrival. The wooden structure
covered more than half of the bedroom floor and extended to within a foot of
the ceiling. From the side, it held a triangular shape, as its front and back
joined together at the top, both designed for restraining someone to its frame.
The front side, the side facing the door, had a crossed pattern that allowed
the lucky woman to be tied spread eagle, adjustable loops of rope in place for
each foot and hand. It was to this side that he led the bound Lori.

Her
grogginess from the recent events in the kitchen allowed him an easy time to
remove the restraints from her hands and secure them to the structure above her
head. Once he was satisfied she could not free herself, he walked to the back
of the structure. There a pulley system had been installed which enabled him to
pull the adjustable slats upward, lifting her completely off the floor. He then
returned to the front of the masterpiece and bound each of her suspended ankles
to opposite sides of the frame. She had kicked at him weakly with a free foot
as he bound the other, but there was no real force or conviction to it. He knew
she would like this.

With
Lori now affixed to her wooden bed, the void space between the slats allowed
him to walk between her legs. He tore the red panties from her body with little
effort and tossed them nonchalantly onto her stomach. Adjustable petals,
similar to those used on wheel chairs, were then raised and locked into place
under her feet to help support her weight, so she would not be hanging from her
wrists.
 

“Comfy?”

His
rhetorical question was met with incoherent mumbling. He took that as an
affirmative and crossed the room to retrieve a small black canvas bag. From it,
he took a small bottle of
Astroglide
lubricant. He squirted
a generous amount of the gel onto the tips of his fingers and then applied it
to her crotch. The dildo that was then inserted into her was purple, with
lifelike features contoured on its surface. Its base was black and doubled as
the control for the adjustable vibration features. He had affixed a metal loop
on this base and after he was satisfied it would stay in place for the moment,
again walked to the back of the structure.

Hanging
from the center beam, were four bungee straps. Two of these he tossed over her
shoulders and the other two he pulled underneath her as he walked back to the
place between her legs. After he adjusted the switch to a medium setting, the
hooked ends of all four straps were attached to the metal loop on the dildo.
The vibrator was now unable to come out of her on its own as it hummed inside
of her. He stood back and admired his creation. It was good. Hell, it was
brilliant.

“I’m
going to leave you for a while,” he told her, unable to hide the amusement in
his voice as he spoke. “Now, don’t you go anywhere while I’m
gone.
”

He
closed the bedroom door behind him, retrieved his keys from the counter in the
kitchen and left the apartment. There was a movie playing at the mall he had
been meaning to see. Lori would be just fine where he left her, so he couldn’t
think of a better time to go check out the movie. It was supposed to be real
funny.

Chapter Thirty-Three

1

Lana
sat quietly in the chair beside Tink’s bed, with her trembling hands folded
tightly on her lap. It had been more than an hour since the last time he had
opened his eyes, so she had been just watching him, allowing him to get the
rest the doctors had said he needed at this point. The other detective – Mel,
if she remembered right – had come by twice already, and while she had seen something
in his eyes that said he couldn’t believe she was really who she was, he had
been kind and never said anything about it, then or the next time he had
visited Tink.

She
was sure Tink would one day get some teasing from this man about her and the fact
she was living with him, but she felt fairly confident he wouldn’t say anything
to anyone else. He genuinely seemed to care a lot about the man in the bed with
tubes running out of his mouth and nose, almost as much as she did, arguably.

Lana
tried to reach Sergio, but his phone went straight to voicemail again, and the
only thing she could think of was the way he had described his frustration
about hers doing the same when she had been missing. He had said it had almost
driven him insane, and she now understood that a lot better than she had back
then. And while his refusal to answer his phone worried her more than ever, at
least she knew he wasn’t going through what she had been going through when the
roles were reversed. Hoping he was just having a well warranted
fuck Lana
day, and not dead on the side
of the road somewhere, she sent him a text instead of calling again. It was
brief and to the point.
I know I’m a
bitch, but I really need to talk to you, Serg. PLZ!
That was all it said
and she sat the phone on her leg and waited, hoping it would be enough to
convince him to call her.