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Held

By: KierHardy



Six thirty, Friday evening, she isn't home. He let's himself into the flat and flops down on the sofa. He kicks off his shoes without untying the laces. The end of another shitty week. He leans back and shuts his eyes, then Ping, new message received. It's from her.

"Leaving work now. I'll be home around 7:15."

He reads the message, lets the phone drop onto his chest, shuts his eyes and...Ping. He sighs a deep forlorn sigh. He knows it's from her again. He lifts the phone up to his face.

"Get ready now. We're meeting Amy and Duncan for dinner. I don't want to wait for you to finish in the shower."

He doesn't stir. He can't fucking stand Amy or her miserable twat husband. Ping.

"For fuck's sake," he thinks to himself. "What the hell is it now?"

"Have you fixed the light in the wardrobe yet? I'm sick of it being dark in there."

He hasn't replaced the light bulb in the wardrobe yet. It blew three days ago and she has been on at him to do it ever since. He would replace it, but he hasn't bought a new one. He wonders how people ever got on in life without illuminated wardrobes. How did she manage until they got this one six months ago? It doesn't even bear thinking about! Ping. 

"Just getting off the train. Did you buy cat food like I told you?"

No, he didn't buy cat food either. There's a tin of tuna in the cupboard, the cat can eat that for now. For a moment he wishes she'd phone instead of text. Why can't she speak to him like a human being? Then he remembers the sound of her nagging voice and is grateful for the texts. He closes his eyes again and waits for the sound of her key in the lock. He doesn't have to wait long. 

She starts immediately as she steps through the front door. She doesn't even look at him, just talks at him.

"Oh god. What a bloody day! The Arabs are trying it on again. They are complaining about the price after we settled on it weeks ago. Colin wants to come down a bit to keep them happy, but I told them no way. We've already undercut everyone else. They can walk if the like, they'll be back. There's no way they'll be able to find anyone who knows the regulations in the UAE like we do. If they try to go elsewhere, it's better for us. We'll be in a much stronger position when they come crawling back."

He doesn't bother listening to her. He gave up faking an interest in her work a couple of years ago. Business has always bored him to tears, but that doesn't stop her going on and on, usually with no context at all. He doesn't even know who Colin is.

She busies herself in the kitchen, then comes into the living room sipping a glass of wine.

"Did you get my texts? You didn't reply to any of them," she doesn't wait for a response. "Did you feed the cat? You didn't get cat food, did you? For god's sake. She can have tuna tonight, but you'll need to get some tomorrow morning."

He takes a deep breath in, holds it, then lets it out long and slow.

"You haven't showered. I told you to shower before I got home. You always take too long. Go in now or we'll be late. I don't want to keep Duncan and Amy waiting. I said we'll be there be by half eight."

He pulls himself off the couch, stretches his tired aching back and wanders out of the room. She goes back to talking about work.

"The Americans are idiots of course, but at least they pay up, unlike the Arabs. Once we've finalised this Emirates project, I want to move to the States for six months or so. The New York office has been pestering me to go over for a while and it would be a great opportunity. My contacts tell me it's all kicking off there. You can get leave from work, can't you? It doesn't matter if you can't. I'm sure you'll be able to find a job in America."

Just like that, she wants them to pack up and leave for half a year or more. She earns substantially more than him and doesn't consider what he does important. They could easily do without his salary. Her last bright idea was that she wanted a baby, but didn't want it to interfere with her career. He was to quit is job and stay at home with the kid. Luckily he managed to convince her to postpone that for a while.

He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge. A nice cold bottle of Becks. He cracks it open and she appears behind him.

"So, you're going to start drinking beer now? Don't you think it would be a better idea to get ready first? We're going to be late."

He takes a long, satisfying glug, nearly finishing the bottle in one. She leaves the kitchen in a huff and heads for the bedroom. He burps then follows her. He wants to have a lie down, maybe a nap. She opens the wardrobe door. 

"You didn't bother to do the light again. Typical. Why can't you ever do anything I ask? Is it so difficult? All I ask of you is a bit..."

Suddenly he is upon her. So quickly she didn't even have time to react to the flash of movement in her peripheral vision. He grabs her shoulders and spins her round to face him. With hardly any effort at all, he lifts her off her feet and throws her onto the bed. 

He comes at her again. This time she's ready. She kicks out wildly, but it doesn't bother him. He bats her feet away like he's shooing flies. He's on top of her. Mounted high on her torso, just under her bust. Straddling, his knees either side of her body. Trapping her, holding her in place.

She attacks him with her hands, trying to hammer him with closed fists. He takes a wrist in each hand and slams them down either side of her head, then stretches her arms out, crucifix fashion. 

She isn't going to just take it from him. She isn't going to allow him to manhandle her like that. She is determined to fight back. She strains against him with gritted teeth. She tries desperately to bring her hands together and push him away. He holds firm. She tries bucking her hips to throw him off. He is too heavy for that to be affective and when he puts his weight on her, it hurts and restricts her breathing. She tries to roll, but that gets her nowhere. Her arms are locked down and his legs squeeze her rib cage. 

Her anger rises rapidly as she tries in vain, with all her strength, to get free, to get the upper hand somehow. She thrashes about in a violent frenzy. Every time she makes the slightest gain, he smashes her back down on the mattress with authority. She tries to hook her fingers around his forearms and twist her wrists free. This only makes him tighten his grip.

She is beyond frustration. All the pulling and tugging and pushing and straining and fighting and kicking and heaving, the lack of breath and the pain are making her tired. She is exhausted and has achieved nothing. She is in exactly the same position as when they started. She has been giving it her all, working her damnedest to get free, while it took barely fifty percent of his force to keep her there. She is flushed red and panting, out of breath. Sweat has broken out on her forehead. Strands of wet hair are stuck to her temples. She hasn't physically got anything left. He isn't even breathing heavily.

Her energy might be spent, but she is still raging at him. Furious that he could do this to her. How dare he treat her like this? Who does he think he is? 

She gives up physical resistance and switches to verbal. She lets out a tirade of screamed abuse.

"Let go of me you bastard! Fuck off, you cunt! Get off me, now! Fuck you! You can't fucking do this to me! I'll fucking kill you for this! Fucking cunt bastard!" 

Still he holds her down. She cannot move. He remains silent. 

Eventually she has to rest. Her muscles ache. Her voice is horse. Her breathing is laboured. Her wrath is turning to fear. What if he never lets her up? She looks at his face for the first time since he's had her there. He stares down at her. 

She sees that his face has completely changed, it's unfamiliar to her. She knows it's him, but at the same time he's unrecognisable. What's happened to him?

It's his eyes. She looks straight into them, only they aren't his any more. They are not the eyes of the man she fell in love with. Usually so kind and bright, now they are cold and dead. Almost reptilian, more like a snake than a man. 

She sees no love, affection or tenderness in those eyes. No passion, no desire. Nothing. His face is blank, expressionless. His gaze isn't even one of hatred and loathing. It's much worse than that. He is looking at her with absolute indifference. No emotion whatsoever. 

Her anxiety becomes pure panic. It grips her from the inside and squeezes her wind pipe. Everything in her body wants to flee. She has to get away, now! But she can't budge. He is sitting on top of her, holding her down and glaring at her with stark, blank orbs. 

She doesn't know what he is capable of. She believes he could do anything. If his mind is as blank as his eyes, then he could end her right here and not even wince. He wouldn't feel a thing. She is completely at his mercy. She has no energy left to fight.

There is only one course of action open to her. Acceptance. To give in. Total capitulation to her fate. Utter surrender to him. She can only trust. Have faith that the man she loves is still there, even though she cannot see him. She has to hope that his love for her, the love she can usually see shining in his eyes, is still within him.

Once she finally submits, turns her body over to him, she is able to think clearly. The mist and fog of anger and fear is lifted. She sees now that she caused this. She drove him to it. If he doesn't love her any more, if he no longer feels at all, then it is because of her. She killed it. She extinguished the spark he once had.

She was so used to being the "Boss" all day. Surviving in a man's world. Living up to her reputation as a demon in the boardroom. Demanding respect. She forgot to leave that persona at the office. She brought it into the home. He hadn't been her partner, she treated him like an underling, like one of her staff.

He had wanted to make her happy, to make her life easier. He loved her, worshipped the ground beneath her feet. He had tried to be understanding. He wanted her to be confident and knew her work was important to her. So he took it. Day after day he had allowed her to throw her weight around. He ate it. He bit his tongue. 

Until today. Something in his head just snapped. She needed to be put in her place, which at this moment was beneath him. Literally under his body, under his hands.

She allows her entire body to go limp. Not one ounce of resistance remains in her. She lies, prostrate on her back. He holds fast. Their eyes locked together. 

Finally she speaks.

"Please baby, let me go, you're hurting me."

Her voice is soft and low. Her tone is sweet and passive. No orders, no demands. No rebukes or condemnation. Just a simple, polite request.

He closes his cold, staring eyes and holds them shut. A smile passes over his lips. When he raises his eyelids, she sees him again. The light she feared had gone out forever has returned. 

He loosens his grip, bends down and kisses her nose. She smiles at him, happy just to know he is there.

He lets go of her wrists and dismounts. He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches. She rubs the feeling back into her numb arms and gets her breathing back to normal. She is glad to have the weight off her chest. He gets up and leaves the room.

"I'm going for a shower," he tells her. "Call Amy, we're not meeting them for dinner tonight."

She finds her phone and dials the number.

Held



Chapter 1

She'd been awake for six hours now and for nearly all of that time, she'd either screamed or cried or looked into the various security cameras demanding to know why. The First One had done the same thing. She refused to accept her fate and wouldn't cooperate. After just five days, The Voice demanded she be removed.

Pete Coleman had to ensure the transition went quickly and smoothly this time. There was too much at stake to let the new girl fight so hard for so long. And yet he felt the need to warn her. As with The First One, he was mentally torn. But unlike the last time, he was going to risk everything to make sure she knew why compliance was so important.

He was keeping a careful eye on his watch and noted it was one minute to midnight. At exactly 12am, he jumped up from his chair, ran to the outer door and stood next to it. As quickly as he could, he entered the six-digit code of 757573, swung the door open, shut it, then moved to the inner door, and did the same thing using 384176. He needed to get to her, explain as much as he could, then get back through both doors in under three minutes. It was a huge risk, but one he had to take. The basement was essentially a replica of a large, three-bedroom ranch-style house with an attached storage room. He ran down the hall to the bedroom where she lay curled up in a ball. 

As he entered the room she sat up and started screaming. "Get away from me! Leave me alone! Who are you? Why am I here???" 

He put his finger to his mouth and hollered, "Be quiet! Please just listen to me! I have less than two minutes to say this so please—please be quiet and hear me out."

She'd backed up against the headboard and was still crying loudly but she had stopped screaming. "Tell me what?" she said as she recoiled in fear.

"You're being held here..."

"Held? Why?! WHY am I being held here?"

He moved to her end of the bed and pointed to the security camera. "The cameras reset at midnight each day. That's the only time he can't see us.

"He? Who is he? Why am I here? I just want..."

Coleman reached out and grabbed her. She fought but he got one hand behind her head and the other over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear as he shook and said, "LISTEN TO ME! You're being held here and so am I. He knows where our families are and if we don't cooperate, they get hurt. You and I, too, but especially THEM. And he'll make you watch when he hurts them. So do what you're told or the people you love will pay the price. That's all I can tell you because if he sees me here, someone I care about will suffer for it. Don't fight him." He let go of her and said, "Don't fight...this. If you cooperate, he will let you go one day. If not, he'll kill them and you." 

Coleman turned and ran out of the room. He could hear her screaming, "No! Wait! Tell me who HE is! Tell me why I'm here! Please! Come back Please!!" The last sounds he heard before he secured the inner door were her screams and cries for help.

He shut the outer door and checked his watch. He had less than ten seconds. He ran to the primary monitoring station, sat in the chair, and looked again at his watch. Three seconds left. He slouched down and put his feet up on the panel; the exact position he was in before he left. Maybe this time he could get the new girl to cooperate sooner. If not, the results could be as catastrophic as they were with The First One.

A minute later, he nonchalantly got up and went to the air lock as though he'd been at his post the entire time. The Voice allowed him to care for them—to a point. Were he to exceed the limit, the siren would sound; a painful reminder of who was in control. He put an Ambien and a Dixie cup with water in it inside the chute along with a handwritten note and hit the 'down' button. He heard the gentle ding of the alarm on the monitor and watched as Holly got up to investigate. She moved cautiously toward the kitchen. As she did the monitoring system tracked her movements and automatically switched cameras. 

When she peered around the corner of the hallway into the kitchen she noticed the soft green light illuminating the kitchen air lock. Slowly, she walked toward it then stopped to see what it was. She was able to see into it through a large, Plexiglass window. Inside, she saw the contents sitting there with a note that read, "Take this. It will help you sleep."

Pete watched her as she looked around to see who was watching her. The only thing she noticed was the security camera with a blinking red light mounted in the corner. Finally, she pressed the 'open' button and there was a soft 'whoosh' as the glass window opened. She reached inside and picked up the pill and the cup along with the yellow sticky note. 

"Take it. Be a good girl and take it," Coleman said out loud to himself. He couldn't help but root for her, as it were. She looked so much like her. How could he not feel protective? After all, she hadn't asked for this anymore than he had.

She stood there for several minutes just staring at the air lock before she turned around and looked at the security camera again. After another minute or so, she turned her upper body, picked up the pill and the water, and popped the tablet in her mouth and downed it with the water so that whoever was watching could see she'd taken the pill.

"There. I cooperated. I hope you're happy," she said. She crumpled the cup and threw it on the floor. Immediately, a very loud siren went off causing Holly to put her hands over her ears. When it shut off, she started crying and screaming at the camera. "I did what you said! What more do you want? What kind of sick game is this!?!" She took a step away from the air lock and the siren sounded again. This time, it went on twice as long. When it ended, Holly looked down and saw the Dixie cup on the floor. She glared at the camera then bent down and picked it up. "Is this what you want? Am I supposed to be your housekeeper, too? Okay, fine," she said as she tossed it in the trash. "Are you happy now?"

She returned to the bedroom where she'd been and lay on the bed. Her thoughts turned to her family members. Just that thought alone would have caused her to cry four months ago, but she was a lot tougher now. She was harder. Even so, when she thought of any of them being harmed, her blood ran cold. She pulled a blanket over herself and fought off the tears that used to come so easily, until she finally fell asleep. Some ten hours later, she awoke unsure what time it was, but she was reasonably sure it must be morning as there was light streaming into the room behind the drawn curtains.

Suddenly, she remembered where she was. Her first emotion was fear while her first thought was how desperately she needed to pee. She left the bedroom and headed the opposite direction down the hall. She saw two other bedrooms and went into the larger one and kept walking until she saw the door to the bathroom. "This must be the master suite," she thought. She unzipped the orange jumpsuit and pulled down the plain white panties then squatted over the toilet. It looked very clean and sanitary so she allowed herself to sit all the way down. Nearly 24 hours worth of urine poured out of her body. She peed for over a minute before the stream turned into a trickle and finally stopped. She grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dried herself off. 

As she stood up, the toilet flushed automatically. A moment later, she heard the water in the shower turn on. As much as she needed a hot shower, it could wait. She had to find out where she was first. So while holding the top of the jumpsuit with one hand, she reached in to shut off the water. The handles turned but they didn't do anything. "Fuck this," she said as she turned around and pulled up her panties. As she did so, the piercing sound of the siren went off again. It was louder than anything she'd ever heard and that included the fire alarms where she was a high school teacher. Or rather, where she'd once taught high school in another life. Before the arrest. For the last three years, Holly had taught social studies and served as the coach of the school's cheerleading team.

She dropped the material she was holding and covered her ears until it became quiet. "Okay, I get it," she said to the monitor in the corner of the bathroom. "You want me to take a shower. Fine."

She stepped out of the jumpsuit, pulled off her panties, then unhooked the plain, white bra, and stepped into the shower. She had to admit the hot water felt amazing. Holly couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a real, hot shower in privacy. How long had it been? At least four months. That's how long she'd been in custody since the judge denied her bail. Every shower since was taken on command and in the company of other female inmates as well as the female police officers who served in the King County correctional system. 

Holly looked around and saw she had a choice of several different soaps as well as various shampoos. She picked them up and smelled them and was pleased to see they each had a lovely, aromatic scent to them. Green apple, strawberry, vanilla, and several others. She chose a bar of Irish Spring soap and the strawberry-scented shampoo. When she was finished, she opened the glass shower door and grabbed a large, very luxurious bath towel and dried herself off. There were several others hanging there so she used one of them to twist up her hair. 

Once she was dry, she looked down for the things she'd been wearing, but they weren't on the floor where she'd left them. Instead, there was a very soft, very fluffy, white robe neatly folded in between the two sinks on the large granite countertop. It was then she noticed the blinking red light from yet another security camera. She looked up at it and said, "I suppose this means you want me to wear the robe?" She would have normally let her towel fall to the floor, but this time she carefully hung it on the brushed nickel bar from which she'd taken it. She put on the robe then tied it snugly around her waist. She looked back up at the security camera and said, "Now what? What do I do next?"

She wandered through the house until she got to what looked to be some sort of vault. There was a blinking green light over it. "Okay. Green light equals go. Got it. You want me to look inside," she said quietly out loud. She turned the heavy steel handle until it unlocked then pulled it open. A row of fluorescent lights came on automatically. Inside, there were foodstuffs of every kind. Boxes and cans full of cereal, macaroni, soups, spices, beans, and coffee. There was a cold storage area stocked with milk, juice, butter, eggs, and fresh fruits and vegetables. Lastly, there was a freezer stuffed with ice cream, frozen fish, steaks, and other foods. "Looks like I'm the cook here as well, so..."

Holly grabbed everything she needed to make herself a breakfast of bacon and eggs as well as two slices of buttered toast. As hungry as she was, the best part of the meal was the hot, steaming cup of coffee was allowed to make. She hadn't had coffee that was anything more than flavored water since her arrest. "My God that tastes good!" she said as she sipped the dark, full-bodied liquid from the large white mug.

As she ate, she tried to recall the last thing she remembered before waking up in this...place. The trial ended at around 6pm with a guilty verdict on all four counts coming back in less than two hours. Holly Marie Prescott had been convicted of inappropriate conduct with four different students over a two-year period. All of them had been seniors and in one of her classes either this year or last, and all of them were members of the football team.

One morning, right after Labor Day, two police officers, accompanied by her principal, had showed up without warning. The officers stood outside while the principal told her he would be taking over her class while she spoke to the men in uniform. She stepped out into the hall with them when the taller of the two asked if she was Holly Marie Prescott. "Yes, that's me," she said. "Why do you ask? Is something wrong?" She was arrested and read her rights while being handcuffed. At the station, she was fingerprinted, photographed, and sent to a holding cell. The next day, the judge who presided over her bond hearing, denied bail. She'd spent the last four months in jail awaiting trial which lasted just two days. Jury deliberations took less than two hours with all 12 jurors voting guilty on every count. She was to spend a final night in jail then be transported to The Washington Corrections Center for Women in Gig Harbor sometime the next day. She'd been herded through a short out-processing at the jail and loaded into the back of a prison van the following evening. It was winter and already dark and very cold. The trial concluded two days before Christmas making this the 25th of December. "Merry Christmas to me," Holly said to herself. 

Her hands were cuffed and her feet were shackled to the floor. She remembered the guard banging the back of the van twice once Preston was inside and the door had been shut. She felt the van surge and move forward followed by what seemed like maybe a 30-minute drive when, without warning, the van came to a very sudden stop and Preston heard some muffled sounds near the front and what sounded like a door opening then slamming shut before the van took off again. Just moments later, she remembered the smelling a strange odor and being unable to keep her eyes open. The next thing she remembered, she woke up here. In this...place.

Once she finished breakfast, Holly carefully put the dishes into the dishwasher then looked up and asked, "Okay? Now what?"

Holly wandered through the rest of the house until she ended up back in the bathroom where she'd been. She looked around and noticed there was a green blinking light above the electric toothbrush on the counter. She picked it up, put some toothpaste on it, then brushed her teeth. It was obvious from what the man had told her this wasn't prison and yet, if she was being held, what was the difference? She wasn't even sure she'd seen him. Had she only dreamed it? He told her she was being 'held' but offered no other information as to where or why. Somehow, she felt certain this had to be connected with her trial and conviction, but exactly how was as yet undetermined.

"I was a good girl," she said to the monitor in the corner of the bathroom. "I brushed my teeth. So what's next?"

Holly stepped into the bedroom and saw the unmistakable glow of a green light coming from just above the large walk-in closet. As she pulled open the French doors, she saw an amazingly large wardrobe of clothes, shoes, purses, and jewelry. She was looking through some of the dresses and noticed everything was a designer label. "Jesus," she said to herself. "These things are really expensive. I guess I'm supposed to wear this stuff." The only thing she wasn't sure of was what she was supposed to wear. There were no blinking lights so maybe she would be permitted to choose. 

All she wanted was a pair of jeans or even some sweats but everything in the closet was...beautiful. Formal gowns, cocktail dresses, silk blouses, skirts of every color and length, and an entire set of shelves filled with the most expensive cashmere sweaters she'd ever seen. There were no less than 50 pairs of shoes and all but two had heels ranging from 3 to 6 inches. There was one pair of flat sandals and one pair of comfortable tennis shoes. And gee, everything was in her size. All of the dresses were size 4. So was every skirt and every blouse. All of the sweaters were smalls and the shoes were all women's size 6 1/2. "Jesus Christ. This is fucking scary," she said to herself. Holly rarely cursed before her time in lockup, but it didn't take long to learn the way of the world in the jungle know as jail. In just four months, she gone from being a quiet, polite, high school social studies teacher to an often foul-mouthed woman who could stand up for herself. 

"No sweats. Okay. I'll play along," she said. A light above the drawer filled with sweaters was blinking. She chose a dark gray color then selected a black skirt. She instinctively knew the flats were out of the question,so she selected a pair with the shortest heel she could find in black and got ready to get dressed. That's when she noticed the green light above the dresser. It was filled with bras, panties, garter belts, and stockings of ever color and of course, all were in her size. Holly wore a 34C bra and guess what? Yep. Every one of them was that size. She chose one that was lacy and black along with black panties, a pair of barely-black stockings with a black garter belt and set about getting dressed. Just when she thought she was ready, she noticed yet another blinking light in the closet. It was just above a hanger with a beautiful, black matching cardigan sweater. As she slipped it on, she asked herself, "What the hell is this? Am I being turned into a Stepford Wife or something?"

Once she was finished, she was 'directed' back to the bathroom where the cosmetics were all neatly lined up. "Oh, my. What a surprise. The light's blinking. Okay. Time to get pretty." She was only half joking as Holly was a very attractive young woman, but like so many other things, that was hard to remember. She'd only seen herself in civilian clothes during the two days of trial and her attorney made sure she wore a very plain dress that fell to just above her knees. He advised her to wear very little makeup to make her appear as modest as possible. 

By the time she was finished, she was pleasantly surprised with the reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still wet so what wasn't a surprise was when the light next to the hair dryer came on. Once her chin-length hair was blown dry, Holly Preston looked like she was ready for a night on the town. But she clearly wasn't in town and it was also clear wouldn't be going anywhere. She had to figure out where the hell she was and more importantly, how to get out of this place.

She spent the next several hours examining what was, for all practical purposes, her new holding cell, albeit one with all the creature comforts a woman could want. She found the door with the keypad within the first few minutes but was afraid to touch it knowing it would set off the alarm. There were windows in every room, but they had some different kind of glass in them than Holly had ever seen. There were no bars so she was pretty sure they must be shatterproof. What was really interesting was that there was scenery of some kind outside of each window. But it obviously wasn't real. It was more like an image of the outdoors. A beautiful meadow, a view of Mount Rainier, and even a gorgeous waterfall appeared to be right outside. "What an elaborate ruse," she thought to herself. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure this prison was as comfortable as possible. Even so, that's all it was to her—a prison. That said, Holly was grateful not to have to watch her back or fear being beaten—or worse—for the smallest slight. "Merry Christmas to me," she said again bitterly.

Holly walked back to the keypad and stared at it. She remembered watching movies where something like oil from human fingers gave away the combination. She couldn't tell anything from just looking no matter the angle. In spite of knowing what would happen, Holly couldn't stand there and do nothing. She chose several numbers at random, punched them in, then hit 'Enter.' Even knowing what was coming, the sound still took her by surprise. She covered her ears but even then the noise was nearly unbearable. It went on for what seemed like an eternity before it suddenly (and mercifully) stopped.

"Note to self. Hands off the goddamned keypad," she said quietly. As the ringing in her ears subsided, Holly went to the living room and looked straight into one of the security cameras and said, "Okay. I give up. Just tell me what you want me to do. There's no way out. I get that. You've made your point. You win. I'll play along. Just please don't hurt anyone else. Okay? I'll do whatever you want, but I'm begging you, don't hurt my family."




Held



Coleman was both relieved and worried. He was worried because he knew The Voice would suspect something once Holly mentioned her family. Sure, it could be a natural concern anyone might have, but it could also mean she'd been in contact with the male being held. The relief came because he didn't want things to end like they had with The First One. This girl, this...Holly...seemed to be willing to accept her fate. Coleman hadn't even known the first woman's name. "The Voice" had forced him to dispose of her after less than one week. The woman, whoever she was, seemed to be unbreakable. This one was much more...compliant. He hoped she would stay that way although he still had no idea what that might mean for him. He only knew that he never wanted to have to do...that...to another body. 

It still made him sick all these weeks later. When she died, she'd pissed and shit all over herself. Her face was purple and black and her eyes were wide open. Coleman wasn't exactly sure how The Voice had killed her, but he knew with certainty she was dead the moment he saw her on the monitor. The only other dead bodies he'd ever seen were in funeral homes after a mortician had carefully prepared them for viewing. Coleman felt nauseous when he first saw her in person after being ordered to go downstairs. He later threw up when he saw the chainsaw and the black bags. He still had nightmares about the sounds and the spatter. He'd been forced to drag her body into a dark, cold, concrete room before dismembering her. He couldn't initially force himself to do it even after being made to watch a particularly gruesome episode of Dexter in which the title character had killed someone with a chainsaw then disposed of them in plastic bags. Only after seeing a live video feed of his beloved niece and nephew was he able to make himself follow through with this most hideous task. Coleman had a son, too, but for some reason, he was never in any of the images The Voice used to control his behavior.

Just before 6pm, Coleman heard The Voice. It was almost cold and metallic as though someone was speaking into a voice-altering machine. He'd tried resisting, too. Initially, he was dealt with by the shrill sound of the siren. But there had also been appeals from The Voice. The first was a reminder of a headline he'd been shown: "Local Teacher Arrested on Multiple Counts of Inappropriate Conduct." He couldn't remember when that was but it before The First One. Then more recently he'd been shown one that said: "Convicted Teacher Missing in Possible Jailbreak." That had to be connected with her being here. What didn't make any sense to him was a third headline. He couldn't recall it verbatim but it had something to do with a missing Microsoft executive. He was confused to the point of agitation and dismissed the third headline as something that must have pertained to the First One. Besides, none of that mattered. He'd been told what to do and refusing wasn't an option.

Coleman was dressed in an Armani suit and Gucci shoes, and it was time for him to go downstairs. He was still a very good looking man even at 45. He'd always found time to workout and nature had also been very kind to him. Like his own late father, he still had jet-black hair that was thick and full. He'd inherited those same blue eyes, the high cheekbones, and the dimple in his chin. Those features were what had allowed him to marry someone as beautiful as his wife, Bonnie. He met her when he was supervising the construction of a very large stage for the Miss Washington contest some 22 years ago. It was his first project as lead engineer and in a chance encounter, he'd had the opportunity to talk to Miss Seattle who would later become his wife. Coleman couldn't remember how long he'd been held here nor could he remember how much time had passed since her death. This place made it nearly impossible to think and trying to do so caused him incredible pain and frustration. "Just let it go," he reminded himself as he stepped away from the full-length mirror.

Pete punched in the correct codes and after ensuring the doors were secure, stepped inside. The doors were absolutely silent as were the very expensive shoes he wore. He slowly walked down the hallway toward the living room. He didn't believe in God but he was silently praying Holly wouldn't say anything about his previous unauthorized visit. If she did, there was no telling how severe the penalty might be.

As he stepped into the living room, she saw him. "Hello," he said. 

He could feel perspiration building up on his forehead as she stood up. He walked quickly toward her and just as she began saying, "It's you!" he threw his arms around her and said loudly enough to muffle her words, "Holly! You look so beautiful!" As quickly and as quietly as he dared he whispered, "Don't say a word about my being here before."

He stepped back and said cheerfully, "You look much nicer than you did in your prison orange."

Holly was visibly shaken but it was clear she'd heard him. She glanced at the video camera before saying, "Who are you?"

"I'm Pete Coleman. I know your first name is Holly, but that's all I know. If we could sit down, maybe we could get better acquainted."

Holly sat back down where she'd been and Coleman sat across from her. "My last name is Prescott," she told him. Her eyes darted back and forth from Coleman's to the monitor behind him.

"So tell me about yourself, Holly Prescott," Coleman said as though they'd just met at an art gallery or some other upscale place. Both of them wearing designer clothes and sitting in what could pass for a multi-million dollar home in the Seattle area.

"I'm sorry. I've played along all day. I'm wearing what they want, I've done everything they've asked, but I'm not gonna just sit here and pretend everything is okay and make small talk with a total stranger." She looked over at the monitor and hollered, "What in the HELL do you want?"

Coleman sat up straight and said, "No, don't do this..." Just then, both of them were subjected to a 10-second blast of unbearably loud noise. When the sound abated, Coleman's ears kept ringing. He hadn't been forced to endure that much noise since his hesitance to dispose of The First One.

"Are you okay?" Coleman asked Holly.

"Yeah. I'll be okay," she told him.

Coleman spoke. "So again, tell me about yourself, Ms. Prescott."

This time, Holly knew better than to fight a hopeless battle. "Well, I was born and raised in Yakima. I went to Central Washington State, got a degree in secondary education, moved to Seattle four years ago and started teaching high school. I'm 26, single, no kids, and...no pets."

Coleman laughed politely as she said, "So what about you, Mr. Coleman? From whence do you hail and what it is you do for a living?"

"I grew up in Sumner. Do you know where that is?" he asked.

"More or less. It's between Seattle and Olympia, right?" she replied.

"More or less," Coleman said back to her. For the first time, Holly smiled. "I graduated from Sumner High School then went to the University of Washington where I finished a BS and a master's in engineering, and I worked for the city of Seattle as a structural engineer ever since."

"I see you're wearing a wedding ring. Do you and your wife have children?" she inquired.

Coleman felt that old familiar feeling well up inside him the way it did every time he thought of Faith. "I'm a widower," he told her quietly. "And no, we never had children."

"I'm so sorry," she said sincerely. "Do you feel like telling me how you lost her?"

Coleman felt the fury building up inside of him rise from the pit of his stomach to the taste of bile in his throat. "She was murdered by some fucking monster who..."

The sound of the alarm cut him off in mid-sentence. Both of them instinctively covered their ears until it stopped. This was a short burst of less than five seconds. Just enough to convey the message, "Don't say another word."

"That's okay," she told him. "I don't need to know anything else. I'm just so sorry for your loss." She stood there for a moment then said, "So how long have you worked for the city, Mr. Coleman?"

"I'll tell you if you'll call me Pete," he said politely.

"Okay. Pete."

"Almost 20 years," he told her. His smile faded and he looked...perplexed. "At least I think it was that long. If you're doing the math, there's no need. I'm 45."

"Well, maybe it's the expensive suit, but you look very...distinguished for a man of your um...advanced years." Holly smiled and put her hand on his arm letting him know she wasn't being mean.

"Well, that's high praise coming from such a beautiful but very young school teacher," he said in return.

Holly's smile faded as she said, "Former school teacher. I was falsely accused and convicted of..."

The siren blared for another ten seconds.

When it ended, Holly turned toward the camera and growled, "What kind of sick fuck are you?"

Coleman reached out and gently grabbed her arms and said, "Hey, listen. Why don't we sit down and talk some more, okay?" 

The anger drained from Holly's face and she said, "Okay. Sure. Anything to keep the peace—and quiet—around here, right?"

As they turned to move away, they saw the now-familiar blinking green light over the storage area. "Ah! Dinner time," Coleman said. "Shall we?"

Five minutes later they returned with everything needed to make dinner. Salad, rolls, vegetables, and although Holly had been a vegan for years, two thick steaks. That was something else she'd given up in jail. The food was crap and she needed every decent calorie she could stand to put in her mouth and that had meant eating the meat served with every meal. 

Coleman did the preparation and Holly did the cooking. Just as the table was set, they turned at the sound of the airlock and noticed a bottle of actual champagne. It was Dom Perignon, not some cheap sparkling wine.

"Looks like compliance gets rewarded in the same way rebellion gets punished. Shall we?" he suggested.

"Please. I'm starving," she told him.

Half an hour later, they were finished eating and Coleman was pouring Holly a second glass. "I'm sorry for not saying much during dinner," she told him. "I'm just so afraid to say anything that might, you know..."

"I do," Coleman told her. "Maybe we can find some topics that are safe and get to know as much as we can about one other."

"I'd like that," she told him as they took a seat on the sofa in the living room.

"So do you have any hobbies, Pete Coleman?" Holly asked as she sipped her champagne.

"I have season tickets to the Mariners and Seahawks games. I try and get in the gym 3-4 times a week and when time permits I enjoy tennis and golf." He suddenly stopped talking again then said, "Well, I mean...those are things I used to do. There's a small exercise room upstairs but I haven't been to a game in..." He took a small sip then, as though he hadn't mentally stuttered added, "I'm a reasonably good tennis player, but when it comes to golf my last name should be Mulligan."

Holly raised an eyebrow and said, "Mulligan? Am I missing something?"

He smiled then explained the meaning of the word which caused her to laugh out loud for the first time in over four months. Coleman couldn't help but notice her smile was exceptionally beautiful. She really did look so much like her...

"What about you, Holly? What keeps you busy when you're not teaching..." Coleman stopped and said, "What do you enjoy doing for fun?"

"Well, I also happen to enjoy playing tennis and if I may say so, I'm pretty darned good at it. If we ever get the chance, I'd be happy to teach you a lesson in humility," she said teasingly.

"Oh, really? I hope you don't think I'm going to take it easy on you because you're a girl," he said.

"A girl? Really? A girl? I'll have you know I was all-state my senior year in high school and I had a an athletic scholarship for playing tennis. So this girl will be the one showing the boy a thing or two," she said with mock indignation. 

"Okay, so you play tennis. What else do you like doing?"

"I spend a lot of time helping out disadvantaged youth. Older teenage boys mostly," she said. She paused then added, "Well, I used to anyway before I was..." This time, she stopped herself in mid-sentence fearing that any further information would bring the piercing sound of the alarm.

As they finished off the bottle of Dom, Holly said, "I guess I shouldn't ask you how long you've been here, should I?"

Coleman sat down his glass in expectation of the noise. When it didn't come he said, "I believe that's a wise choice." He hesitated then added, "Besides, I'm not sure I can even answer that."

The silence was interrupted but not by a shrill siren. Rather, it was the sound of music. "Oh, my gosh! My mom used to listen to that song all the time!" Holly exclaimed. "I love this song!"

Coleman smiled and said, "Me, too. It was the theme for Homecoming my senior year."

"Jesus! You're older than dirt, Coleman!" she joked. "Do you think you can dance with me or should I go look for an oil can to loosen you up first?"

"Oh, I think I can manage a dance or two. I mean, it's only 8 o'clock so I've got another hour before my bedtime." He loved when Holly laughed. He was happy to see her happy and he had to admit, she was a very attractive woman. But because she looked so much like...her...how could he think anything different? Then, out of the blue, and for the briefest of moments, he saw himself standing over her with a running chainsaw as she reached out and grabbed his hand.

Coleman was startled as her touch brought him back to reality. "Come on," she said. "I can't be that unattractive to you."

Coleman shook off the image of her body in bloody parts and took her hand. Without warning, he took the lead and began waltzing to the music. "Oh, my God! You really can dance!" she said. 

"Courtesy of Arthur Miller and my late wife," he said. At the mention of his wife, both of them stopped and put their hands over their ears. When the melody continued, they both laughed and continued dancing. Coleman showed her every step he could remember to include some line dancing during a country song.

When it ended, Coleman found himself holding her hands and she found herself just inches from his face. Even in her 3" heels, she was still looking up at him. She couldn't help but notice he had the gentlest eyes she'd ever seen. Maybe it was the champagne but she had to admit he was a very nice-looking man. He would definitely still be considered handsome—for his age. Her principal was the only other older man she'd ever met who was really attractive to her. The thought of dating someone over 30 tended to repulse her but her principal was...hot. And this Pete guy was well...beyond luke warm.

Just as the lull became uncomfortable, Holly noticed a green light from the hallway. "Looks like we're being summoned," she said.

As they approached the source of the light, they noticed it was coming from the keypad. Holly stood next to him and said, "I suppose this means it's time for you to go." There was a kind of sadness in her voice as well as a sense of resignation.

Coleman said, "I believe you're right." He turned toward her and said, "I had a very nice time this evening, Holly."

"So did I, Pete. You really can dance. For an old guy, I mean." She tried to smile but there was sadness in her face as she realized this entire evening wasn't real. It was a setup. And she, and most likely Coleman, were props in this sick and twisted game.

Coleman held out his arms hoping Holly would embrace him. She hesitated then moved closer and put her arms around his neck. Coleman said a bit too loudly, "Sleep well, Holly," before whispering, "I can't risk it tonight, but I'll back tomorrow at midnight." He didn't know how sensitive the microphones were at any given place, but he felt this was something he had to risk. He might not only be heard but so might Holly if she was foolish enough to respond. She didn't and Coleman breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"I don't suppose you should be here when I enter the code," he told her as he released her petite frame.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea. So, well...good night then," she said sweetly.

"Good night, Holly," he said as she turned to leave. Once she was safely out of sight, Coleman punched in the code and headed back upstairs.

Chapter 2

Coleman was sound asleep when he was woken by The Voice. Distant at first then louder. "Deal with the woman. She's guilty and she's a whore. Repay her in kind!" Coleman sat bolt upright. 

He shook off cobwebs and listened carefully. Coleman was sweating. A cold sweat in spite of the warmth in the room. He was now fully awake. "Deal with her the way she dealt with them or your family pays the price!"

Coleman wrestled with the demand all day. In the end, he knew there was no sense in fighting. If he refused, The Voice would kill his beloved sister, Erin, and then kill him. Resistance was a death sentence. But how could he force himself on a woman he barely knew? How could he do that to anyone? And from somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew she wasn't guilty. But how could he know something like that?

Paralyzed with indecision, Coleman spent the rest of the evening curled up in the fetal position unable to move. As the red LED lights on his alarm clock got closer to midnight, he returned to the monitoring room. At exactly twelve o'clock, he repeated the same series of events that took him into the basement area. He found her sitting up still awake in the living room. This time she didn't speak. She up straight, remained silent and listened.

"Holly. There's no time to explain this so just listen to me and...trust me. He's making me...rape you...tomorrow. I don't know why. He keeps saying you're a whore and I have to punish you the way you hurt them. I don't know if that makes any sense to you, but you know what happens if I refuse. Fight me if you need to but I have no choice. I'm so sorry." 

Coleman turned to leave and Holly said without emotion, "I understand. Everyone thinks I'm guilty. Now it all makes sense. All of it. This is why I'm here."

There was no time for Coleman to ask what that meant. He ran to the first door, entered the code, and moved on.

He slept fitfully that night and spent the next day pacing and thinking. There had to be an alternative. There had to be! But short of killing Holly and/or himself, there was none. And even that wouldn't ensure the safety of Erin or Holly's family. "Goddamnit!" Coleman cursed out loud. "Fuck you! Fuck you and your fucked up games!" 

At some point, Coleman fell asleep until 6pm when he heard The Voice again. "It is time. Punish the whore!"

Coleman had slept so soundly he'd been nearly catatonic for hours. He forced himself to sit up then stand. He made his way to the shower then dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He put on some athletic socks and a pair of gym shoes. Out of habit, he grabbed his Rolex watch and strapped it on his arm.

"At least I can protect her," he told himself. He'd found condoms in a drawer in his bedroom. He opened it and picked up a few of them when the alarm went off. This time, it was so loud it nearly rendered him unconscious. "All right, for Christ's sake! I understand," he hollered as he tossed the condoms back into the drawer.

Coleman made his way through the security system and slowly walked down the hallway to where he found Holly in bed. She was wearing a very expensive white, silk robe with white stockings held in place by a white garter belt, 4" white heels, and a white bustier under the robe.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"I'm going to put on a show for him," she said matter of factly. "If he thinks he's going to get inside my head by making you fuck me, then I'm going to get inside his by enjoying it. So go ahead, fuck me. Rape me. I don't give a shit. I know you're a decent guy, Pete, and you're only doing what you have to do because of that SOB who brought who us here. So go ahead. Do it."




Held



Coleman stood there unable to move. He checked his watch and fumbled with it momentarily. Both of them saw the glow of a green light and followed it to the living room. As they walked in, a video began playing. "Oh, my God," Holly said hollowly.

"Who are they?" Coleman asked.

"My niece and nephew," she mumbled. Her eyes were fixed on the images in front of her. They appeared to either be live or very recent. They were playing in a park. Next to them, a man was sitting on a bench holding a newspaper. The front page headline read, "Convicted Teacher Escapes." Her photo was centered above the fold.

"That's you," Coleman said coldly. "So he's telling the truth? Did you really do those things?" he asked.

"No! I didn't do anything! All of them got together and made up a story. They rehearsed the details over and over and during the trial they all said..."

Unable to stop himself, Coleman again fumbled with the Rolex. The siren blared. It went on for what seemed like forever before the room fell silent.

Holly was sobbing. "I didn't do it. I didn't do any of that. I swear. None of it."

Coleman's face showed that dazed look again. He couldn't think. He wanted to believe her. But a jury had heard her case and convicted her. More importantly, he'd been told—no, ordered—to rape her. But he was also fighting an innate need to protect her. That feeling was very strong. He felt the room closing in on him. His field of vision was beginning to narrow. He knew that within minutes the pain would come. Pain so intense he'd vomit if he didn't get the medication in time.

"I can't do this!" Coleman screamed. 

"Do what?" Holly asked. "Pete? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Coleman turned and made it to the door then felt his way to the keypad and punched in the numbers by feel. "Pete? What's going on?" he heard her say. She was only a few feet away but it sounded muffled as though she was far, far away or talking into a tube.

He made it upstairs into his bathroom and found the medicine cabinet. His vision was down to a narrow point, but he turned his head sideways and was able to read the label. He ripped open the box and punched out a single tablet. He kept a diet Coke next to the medicine chest on the sink counter just in case. The caffeine helped relieve the symptoms. He drank as much of it as he could in one drink, then killed the bottle before stumbling into the bedroom. A few minutes later, his vision was gone. Moments after that, the pain came. Searing wave after searing wave. The nausea was so bad he couldn't move. Just turning over would cause him to vomit. After what seemed like hours, the medicine began to take effect. It never eliminated the symptoms, but it always helped. The relief was wonderful. It was just enough to let him fall asleep.

When he awoke, the pain was gone. Most of the time, it lingered. Sometimes for days. But occasionally, this happened. When it did, it was the sweetest relief. 

Coleman sat up and tried to think. The previous night was a blur. He remembered going to the basement and seeing her but he couldn't remember anything else.

Holly woke up still wearing the white silk robe. She'd been up for several hours, had coffee, made breakfast and in all that time, there'd been no blinking lights, no "direction from on high." While the autonomy was a welcome relief she couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Was something ominous brewing? Had this person, this...Voice...hurt Coleman for not raping her? What if he'd killed him? Would she die...alone...in this God-forsaken "paradise?"

In the absence of orders, she decided to do what she felt like doing and that included taking a shower and changing clothes. Except that the water wouldn't turn on. Holly felt the frustration boiling inside of her. It was right below the surface. And yet, on whom would she release it? There was no one around on whom she could vent. Exhausted, she lay down on the bed and waited. For Coleman. For a green light. For...The Voice. Even death began to seem like a better alternative than life in this place because this wasn't life.

At some point, Holly awoke to the sound of his voice. "Holly?" she heard him say. She opened one eye and there was Coleman standing next to her. She opened the other eye then realized she'd fallen asleep. He wasn't wearing the gym clothes nor the Armani suit, but he was dressed rather nicely. It was then Holly didn't care what he was wearing, she just needed someone to hold. Someone to hold her before she came apart at the seams. 

"Pete! Oh, my God. Are you okay?" she said as she sat up. "I was so worried about you. What happened last night?" 

"I don't remember," he told her. "I came down here to see you for some reason and then..."

She slid her legs off the bed and sat on the edge. "Here. Come sit down, okay?" she said patting the area next to her. Coleman sat next to her and Holly put her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You don't look well, Pete. I thought something was really, terribly wrong and then this morning...there were no lights, no sounds, and I thought...I thought maybe..." For the first time in several months, Holly began to tear up. She started to sniffle and then the tears came.

Coleman put his arm around her and said, "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

Holly couldn't stop the flow of tears. "I was so scared. I thought maybe he'd...hurt you."

"No, no. I'm okay. I get these headaches sometimes. They come on out of nowhere and I can't see and then there's the worst pain and..."

Holly managed to get control of herself as she said, "Those are migraines, Pete. My mom gets them. She has the same symptoms. Sometimes she's down for several days with them." She took his hand and squeezed it tight. "I was SO scared. I thought I'd lost you."

Coleman sensed she was trembling. He turned to look down at the top of her head when she looked up. It was...Bonnie. She was alive and she was here...with him. He was having trouble making sense of it the way he did with so many things lately, but it was her. He was sure of it. The eyes, the hair. Even the scent of her shampoo. It was Bonnie.

"Pete. If I'd lost you..." Holly couldn't stop the tears from starting again. "If you'd died..."

He turned to face and said, "I'll never leave you, honey. You know that, right? I made a vow before God and man."

Holly didn't understand why he called her 'honey' but it had been SO long since anyone had said a kind word to her. Since anyone had touched her or held her or...

"Pete?" she said softly. "Would you...hold me?"

Coleman was having trouble processing something. She looked like Bonnie but the voice wasn't the same. It was soft and feminine but it didn't sound like her. But it was her. It had to be. He'd never be alone with another beautiful woman.

"Of course, I will? You know you don't have to ask," he told her as he put his arms around her. Holly's eyes closed as he gently stroked her back and her hair. The sensation of another human being's touch was overwhelming. It was like water to someone who's been in a desert wandering around and literally dying from a lack of water. 

She held him close and ran her hands up and down his back, as well. She was drinking in his touch letting it fill the emptiness in her heart. Her heart. It was beating fast and other parts of her body were also responding to the warmth of this man. "Pete?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Would you..." she looked at him, her eyes darting back and forth between his. "Would you...kiss me?" Coleman stroked her cheek and smoothed her hair before leaning in and kissing her on the lips. When she moaned softly, Coleman knew it was her. He hadn't been with her in so long. He'd missed her so much. And now she was here with him again.

He pushed her back on the bed and rolled on top of her. He was so hungry for her and Holly had never wanted anyone more than she did this handsome, older man. She didn't give a damn about his age. He was kind and caring and she was desperate for his love and attention. It didn't matter whether or not it was just physical. She had to have him inside her. She needed him inside her. She needed him more than she'd ever needed anything. 

Holly took his hand and put it on her full breast and said, "My God, I want you!"

Coleman recognized Bonnie's large, C-cup breast in his hand as he gently squeezed it for the first time in...how long? When she moaned again, he was certain it was her. Moments later, both of them had shed their clothes and Holly had pushed him over on his back. She was on top kissing him passionately while her hand made its way to the place she most wanted on his body. She felt him growing in her hand. "Mmmm. You feel so good to me, Pete," she whispered to him.

She kissed his face, his neck, his chest, and his stomach all the way cupping him with her hand and stroking the length of his shaft. She ran her hand down its length and back underneath his balls as she took him into her warm mouth. "Oh, my God," he moaned. "Oh, honey. That feels so good! I can't remember the last time you did that for me."

Holly heard what he said, but it didn't fully register with her. She was lost in a sea of her own deepest needs and all she could think about was having the large, thick cock in her hand deep inside her pussy which was already drenched with her own juices. She sucked hard and deep. She played with the head using her lips and tongue in all the ways she'd learned to do. She was thrilled when Pete's strong hand pushed her down and held her there. She'd never thought of herself as being very submissive. She was a modern, progressive woman who was the equal of any man. But for whatever reason, she needed him to be in charge. To make her do what he wanted because that was what she wanted. She was a cauldron of emotions swirling around in a charged-particle field ready to explode.

"I need you inside me, Pete," she blurted out as he released his hold on her. Her saliva was thick and there were long, heavy strands from her lips to his cock.

He reached up and grabbed her under her arms and pulled her on top of him. She reached between her legs and found him. She raised him up slightly then slowly and wonderfully sank down taking him inside her. She hadn't had sex in well over six months and that was a hook up with a fellow teacher and nothing more. She was sure she'd need to go very slowly taking him in an inch at at time, but she slid all the way down without any pain. "Oh, my fucking God!" she called out. "Oh, shit!"

Holly rocked and lifted herself up then lowered her body down. In and out. Holding him all the way to the hilt and pushing until his fat cock hit her clit. Then she'd slowly raise up letting it run across her love button all the way to the head then back down. Holly repeated this until she couldn't wait another moment. She gasped, then screamed, "Jesus! I'm gonna fucking cum! Oh...my...God!!"

Pete couldn't remember the last time he'd been with his beautiful wife, but he knew it had been a very, very long time. As she shuddered, he let go and sent streams of warm, sticky cum inside his gorgeous wife until she stopped moving and lay on top of him, panting and kissing his face and lips.

Once he was finished, the confusion began to creep back in. He watched as Bonnie's face turned slowly back into Holly's. He wasn't afraid, but he also couldn't understand how he could have cheated on his wife no matter how attractive the other woman might be. What would make him do something like this? How could he betray the woman he loved?

He felt the room closing in on him. Holly saw the change in his face and said, "Pete? Is it happening again? Are you okay?"

Coleman didn't answer her. He just gently pushed her to the side and stood up. He fumbled for the wall and once again, made his way upstairs without the aid of his sight.

The next day he awoke unable to recall what had happened the night before. For the first time he could remember, Pete Coleman felt afraid. "What the hell is happening to me?" he thought as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He was startled from his pity party by the sound of The Voice. 

"I told you to rape her," it said in that staccato, metallic sound. "She's a whore. She hurt all of those boys and she deserves to feel the same pain they felt."

Coleman was shaking as he sat up. He was also sweating again. He threw off the covers and jumped in the shower. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten and he was starving. But he didn't want to be alone. 

Once he was dressed, he went back downstairs and found Holly who was still in the white robe. "Hey," he said once she saw him.

"Pete! Oh, my goodness. I've been so worried," she said. She cautiously approached him then put her arms around his neck.

He held her back but something was wrong. "Have you changed clothes?" he asked.

"No," she said. "The water's been off down here for two days. I can't shower or even, you know, clean up properly." She stepped back to look at him. He really was a very handsome man but he looked so...so confused again.

"The water. Yes, the water. I'll go upstairs and tell him...no, I'll ask him to turn it on for you."

"No, Pete. Please don't leave right now. Please. I don't want to be alone."

Holly made breakfast for them but Coleman was distant. He responded but his answers were...hollow. Holly used bottled water to make their coffee as she'd done earlier to at least brush her teeth.

Holly sat on his lap and said, "I'm worried about you, Pete."

"You are?" he said without really understanding. "Why are you worried about me?"

Holly held him close and said, "I'm not sure you want to hear the answer to that."

When she released him she stared into his eyes. He was looking back but she could tell he wasn't seeing her. "We need to get you some help," she said as she stroked his thick hair. "I don't know what's wrong but you need a doctor, Pete. I can't lose you because..."

Holly literally jumped when she heard voices. "Down here!" she heard one say. "Through this door!"

She stood behind Coleman as two men in suits entered the room. "He's here. So is Prescott!" the man hollered.

The second man said, "Mr. Coleman? Are you okay?" Pete stared at the police detective and mumbled, "Yes. I'm fine. But don't hurt my...wife."

The detectives looked at one another and said, "Mr. Coleman. I'm Detective Renner. Do you remember me?"

Coleman shook his head. "No, sorry. I don't."

The detective sat next to him as two other men entered the basement. "Sir, I was the one who told you your wife had been...abducted and...murdered. Do you remember that, sir? This isn't your wife. This is Holly Prescott, the woman you abducted several days ago."

"Abducted?" Coleman said. "No, she's Bonnie. That's my wife."

A third man followed by a fourth who'd entered the room along with two EMTs were standing next to him. "The EMTs asked Holly to sit down so they could check her out while the older of the two new men said, "Pete, it's Dr. Edson. Do you recognize me?"

Pete shook his head. "No. How do you know me?"

Dr. Edson turned to the fourth man who was Nate Montecci, his attorney for the last 20 years. "I'm guessing the tumor's gotten larger and it's affecting not only his cognitive abilities but his memory, as well. We need to get him into surgery as soon as possible."

"But the other woman. He killed her. I had to dispose of the body. You have to find her!"

Pete's physician put his hand on his shoulder and said, "There's no body, Pete. That was what they did to your wife. I'm so sorry to have to bring this up but you have to understand you didn't hurt anyone or do anything wrong."

Chapter 3

When Pete opened his eyes, he saw Holly standing next to him. "Pete? Can you hear me?"

He was groggy but his head was otherwise clear. "Ms. Prescott. Yes, I can hear you. Where are we?" he asked as he looked around. "How did I...we...get here?"

Pete saw a man stand up and move toward the bed. "How do you feel, Pete?"

"Nate. It's good to see you. Did I have another...episode?"

"I'm afraid so, my friend. This one was bad. No one's seen or heard from you in over four months. But your efforts paid off. Ms. Prescott has been cleared of all charges."

It was still foggy, but it was coming back to him now. His son, Michael, was one of the four boys she'd been accused of having had sex with. Initially, he'd believed his boy when he told him about this attractive teacher who accompanied them on a road game in her role as cheerleading coach. He claimed she'd given him and a friend drugs and alcohol then seduced them in her room. When she was arrested, he was relieved. Until, that is, he overhead his son talking to the other boy. Something he said didn't sound right and Coleman had hired a private investigator to look into the situation.

He'd gotten so caught up in the events he'd missed two days worth of the medication he depended on to ward off the side effects of the brain tumor he was scheduled to have removed. With the medication, he was able to stay grounded in reality. Without it, he began to drift into another world of voices and paranoia. 

Most of it was a blur, but he remembered moving to the safe house he'd had built after the abduction and murder of his wife, Bonnie. No one else knew it existed because he felt the only way he could protect himself and those he loved was to have a completely unknown location. When he disappeared without warning, those who knew him understood immediately what had almost certainly happened due to his mental state. What they couldn't know was where he'd gone.

They also knew he was extremely good at remaining hidden and had it not been for someone catching a detail of his abduction of the van Holly was riding in after reviewing it dozens of times, they may never have found him.

The private investigator Coleman had hired uncovered information confirming what Holly said. These two boys, plus two from the previous year, had all been close friends. One of the boys from the previous year had been failed by Ms. Prescott and when he'd approached her to see about getting her to pass him, she'd told him no. He then tried to get rough with her and she'd threatened to call the police. His father was a wealthy man and the embarrassment was too much for him to bear. So he essentially blackmailed the other three boys into joining him in accusing her of having had sex with each one of them before they turned 18 as well as having given them drugs and alcohol. The charges were false, but Holly was advised not to testify while everything each of the boys said in court matched flawlessly and the jury had believed them and voted unanimously to convict her on all counts.

While the investigator was busy getting Holly's conviction overturned, the rest of the Seattle Police force was trying to track down the man in the City of Seattle ball cap who'd staged the abduction of Ms. Prescott and the van she was in. The clue came the chairman of MicroSoft himself saw the still frame of the video. He'd seen one of his top executives, Pete Coleman, a former city engineer, wear it numerous times. His phone call to the police and an offer of any and all assistance allowed them to track down his safe house in a matter of days.

"I knew you were innocent," he told her. "I didn't know how, but I just knew."

She took his hand and said, "I can't thank you enough, Pete. I owe you my life. Literally."

"I'm sorry for the way I behaved, Ms. Prescott."

"Ms. Prescott? Pete, have you forgotten?"

Coleman's head and neck were immobilized so he couldn't shake his head. He just said quietly, "Of course not. That part was very real and very...wonderful. But now that you know the truth, all I can do is ask you to forgive me. My feelings were real but I honestly thought you were...her."




Held



"Forgive you? Of course I forgive you." She leaned down closer to him and said, "I don't know what our time together meant to you, Pete, but it meant something very special to me no matter what your exact mental state may have been."

"I honestly don't remember too much of it, Holly, but I do remember you...us...together and...well...I remember having feelings for you—or at least the person I thought you were. It's just all so confusing and muddled. But now you're free and you can get back to your life and find someone closer to your own age to love." Coleman blinked away a tear and said, "I'm already jealous of him, you know."

He raised his hand hoping she might take it. He wanted to feel her touch one last time.

She took his hand and moved closer to him. "You really have no idea what you mean to me, do you, Pete Coleman?"

He didn't speak. He just squeezed her hand. "I know the man I was being held with...not by...wasn't himself. But I saw enough of that man to know I...fell in love with him." She leaned down very close to his face and said, "Pete? I know you need time to get better but I want you to know that if you'll let me, I'll be by side every step of the way. And when you're recovered, well, I know it's not normally the girl's place to ask, but I was wondering if, well, when you do feel better if you might like to go out with me? You know, on a real date without any doors with locks on them." She smiled that smile he so vividly recalled.

Coleman smiled back and said, "I'd like that very much. But what guy my age wouldn't enjoy being seen in public with such a beautiful young woman like you? The real question is 'are you sure a beautiful young girl like yourself wants to be seen with a man my age in public'? I mean, we could go back to the safe house I had built and I could make dinner for us." 

Holly laughed. "I'll pass on the location, but I'd be proud to be seen in public with you. The bigger question is do you want to be seen in public with the most famous—or perhaps infamous—teacher in the state?"

Coleman pulled her close and said, "Nothing would make me happier."

Holly smiled and said, "Nothing?"

He raised up and kissed her and said, "Well, there may be something..."



Held Captive



I made a mistake ending up here. Here in this bedroom, in a flat belonging to two, young attractive women, chained to one of their beds. Handcuffed. I really shouldn't have taken that photo of those two's arses. I'm not a pervert. I'm just a typical young male, with a penchant for the rear end of the opposite sex. These two girls, Danielle and Amy, both had backsides that would have provided excellent wanking material, had I not been caught snapping them in the street on the way to the shop as I passed them. They've lived in the flat below me for a few months, and although I knew them as sort-of acquaintances, I barely spoke to them. Until today, when I found out plenty about them to tell a long story.

Danielle is fairly short, with long flowing blonde hair and a tight ghetto booty, whilst Amy, the one I've had my eye on more, is tall, light brown haired and curvy. She wouldn't be described as fat but that arse! It has a great size and her legs go right into it! And the way they both wear tight clothing as well just compliments them perfectly. They are both of twenty years of age.

Earlier today, I was walking back from the shop after I'd taken those photos, when Amy called me into their flat as I walked past. She was wearing a brown tank top with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of skin tight blue jeans, uneccessarily bound to her figure by a brown leather belt. "Could you help us out? Our TV's not working" I obliged and went in. Amy led me into the bedroom, my eye on that arse, which seemingly belongs to Danielle, where Danielle was waiting, also wearing skinny blue jeans and a stripey blue vest. Suddenly they both grabbed me and dragged me onto the bed. Obviously I struggled but they threw me onto the bed. They got me on my back. Amy pinned me down with surprising strength and held my arms up whilst Danielle pulled out a pair of handcuffs, pulled the chains around the bedpost and locked my two wrists in the cuffs. I was imprisoned by these two girls.

"We'll teach you to take photos of us, you fucking perv!" Amy said, not angrily, but almost sinister in a playfull way, with a smirk on her face. Shit! They must have seen me with my phone out somehow.

"Come on, Dani." Amy said, and she left the room, Danielle following her, before turning around and grinning.

"We're off to discuss your punishment" Danielle grinned. They both left, laughing. So here I was, unsure what these sexy but sinister girls would do to me.

I lay there for half an hour until Amy and Danielle both came in the room. They closed the door behind them and stood side by side, observing me, their prisoner, smiling, before Danielle turned to Amy and asked "so who's going first then?"

"I think I will." Amy replied. "I can feel one coming on..." she grinned.

Then Amy strutted over, shaking her hips as she walked to the bed. She walked onto it and stood over me, looking down at me, her legs apart and mine between hers. "We'll see how much you get turned on over my..." and then she turned around, bent over so I could see the clear shape of her arse, and slapped it with her hands twice "...big bum!" Then she thrust her arse onto my face and shuffled it round for a moment. Then suddenly...PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT! She let out a massive fart! She got off me and climbed off the bed laughing. My God, the stench! Despite it's poisonous odour, this was quite a turn on. Punishment by backside! Perfect! I felt an erection coming on.

"My God, Amy!" laughed Danielle wafting her nose with her hand. "You sure you haven't shat yourself?"

Amy then put her right hand down the back of her jeans and moved it around for a moment. "Hmm...no, I haven't followed through just yet. Although I was worried my thong isn't still intact, can't be arsed changing my knickers right now, when I'm having fun." Thy both laughed.

"Here, let me have a go!" demanded Danielle, and she walked over onto the bed. "This guy might still want to wank over my bum bum. I don't want that!" Then she turned round, slapped her bum once and sat down perfectly on my face. PPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRTTTTT! Not as huge as Amy's rip roaring fart, but Danielle still released a deadly torrent of toxic air onto my nose. The smell of shit in the air only got worse, and my boner became even larger. Danielle got off me and off the bed, and returned to Amy.

"I think I'm winning this contest!" teased Amy. 

"You would, with your fat arse!"

"Quiet you, or I'll sit on your face next!"

"Maybe we should ask him." Suggested Danielle. "Who's better at farting, me or Amy?" I didn't answer.

Amy looked concentrated, then said, almost with excitement, "Well whoever's better, he's fucking enjoying it!" She must have seen my hard-on! "Has the little man popped up?" she laughed, walking over. "Does this make you horny, baby?". She climbed on the bed and straddled my crotch. "Do our bum-bums make you want to do this to us?" And she started bouncing up and down, dry humping where my penis was behind my clothes. She made orgasm noises. "Oohhhhhh! Ooohhh yeah! Oh baby!" Danielle was trying not to laugh. "Yee-ha! Giddy up cowboy!" she yelled. Then she stopped, turned around and sat on my face again. PFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRTTTTTTT! Another huge fart. She moaned, almost with ecstacy. She got off the bed.

"Bit of a turn on?" asked Danielle. Watch this!" And then Danielle came over, onto the bed again. She got on her elbows and knees with her limbs either side of my body, her arse facing me. Then she started shifting back and forth, her backside rhythmically smothering my face. She started rubbing it with her left hand. "Mmmmm, you like this don't you? I can see your hard dick!" Every gyration was making me hornier. Then she rammed her ghetto booty into my face. PPPPPPPPPFFFFFFRRRRT! Bigger than the last one. She burst out laughing.

By now I was so turned on. I just wanted to release this strong sexual urge. I couldn't jack off because my hands were bound. I was even hoping that one of them would rape me. But no. They just kept on sitting on my face, in their skin tight jeans, with their perfectly shaped arses, and farting me, using these arses as tools of punishment. The actual farting wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but this sense of restriction was so painful.

Then Amy said to me. "I feel a bit sorry for you now. So I'm gonna be nice this time, and I'm gonna humiliate you as much as I'm gonna humiliate myself." I wasn't sure what she meant, until she turned to Danielle and said "I can feel the gas starting to go...but the drinks in my system have yet to leave me..."

Danielle instantly knew what her cryptic message meant, as she nervously laughed like a naughty schoolgirl and said "Amy! No way! You're not gonna? Don't tell me you're gonna?!"

Amy just smiled and she climbed back onto the bed and straddled me. She violently thrust her crotch in my face. "Have a sip of this!" she smirked. 

"Amy! Oh my god!" giggled Danielle in the background. The fabric of her jeans was pressed right against my nose. Suddenly this fabric started to dampen and dampen and...my God! She was pissing herself! She let out a little laugh as her pee seeped through her jeans and all over me. Danielle just giggled even more. "I can't believe you Amy!"

Whatever she drank, she drank a lot of, as it was coming out by the gallon! Her crotch still pressed against my nose, the strong musky odur of piss was strong. It gradually stopped. "Aaah...that's better. I've been needing that!" and she got off me. As she got off the bed I saw that her jeans were darker, stained with her piss. "See? We're both humiliated now." she said in an almost patronising way. "I piss myself, and I piss on you. We're even now!" I certainly felt more damp than I did before she straddled me! "Now, I'd better clean myself. Change my trousers and my, er, underwear." She sounded hesistant when she said 'underwear'. I wondered why...

Then from nowhere, Danielle's arse was pressed against my face. PPPPPPPPFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTT!!! "And I need a shit as you can tell" she giggled, "but I'll be using an actual toilet, not a person. Or my knickers." she ribbed at Amy. And they both left the room.

About ten minutes later, I heard hysterical laughter draw closer to the bedroom, until the door opened and Amy, who was now wearing a grey pair of skin tight jeans, and Danielle were back again. Danielle was carrying plastic bag with thing in which she placed on the floor. Amy had a black object in her hand. She held it out with both hands, and it turned out to be her piss sodden thong, even more black that it usually is due to the dampness. "I know you want to smell this. Smell my pissy knickers!" she laughed. And she came over and forced it under my nose, that strong stench of Amy's piss entering my nostrils again. But every time she moved, there was a strange crinkling noise.

She removed her soiled thong and stood back next to Danielle. "OK, as you know I don't always use the toilet when I need to". Both girls giggled mischievously before Amy continued. "So I feel that if I can't use the big girl's toilet, then I don't deserve to wear knickers like a big girl. So...". And then she began unbuttoning her jeans, and pulled the zipper down. She whipped the skinny trousers down, and she revealed herself to be wearing a nappy! An actual nappy, like what babies wear! This girl was actually insane! And that explains the crinkling noise. She pulled the jeans from her feet and stood up tall, her nappy strapped to her hips. "Now. The reason me and Dani have so much wind," she giggled "Is because when we were deciding your punishment, we decided it over lunch. And for lunch, we had curry. Explains our arses doesn't it?" and she sniffed, emphasising the copious amount of farts both Amy and Danielle did. "We're gonna be nice and un-handcuff you for a bit, because when you eat, what goes in must come out. And, well, when what comes out does come out, I'm gonna need someone to change me. You. Like now, for example."

And with that she took a deep breath before screwing her face wide shut. I didn't believe what was happening for a moment, but it was happening. She was using the nappy she was wearing! She was filling it, filling it with shit. She was filling the already putrid air with that unmistakable smell of human feces. "UNNNNNGGGG" she emited, getting this shit out of her shapely arse before that sigh that everyone does when they've just released a massive log.

On the other side of the bed, Danielle was freeing me from the handcuffs. "Oh my God Amy, oh my fucking God!" Danielle shouted, half amused, half horrified.

Amy stopped screwing her face up and a sudden smile appeared. "Oopsie! I did a poopsie!" she laughed. I got up. "Dani, I won't lay on your bed in case it gets messy!"

She lay down on the floor. Danielle came round the bed and stood next to us. "In the bag" she pointed, and I grabbed the bag. In it was a pack of Pampers, nappies which I was suprised fit round her large booty, and some baby wipes. I undid the straps on her nappy, holding my nose, then pulled the nappy from under her. I turned her over, pulled out some baby wipes and wiped her shitty arse, which took longer than it should have done. Danielle was fairly quiet, observing what was going on. Then I turned Amy on her back again, pulled out a fresh nappy from the already open packet and slid it under her. I pulled the front of it over her crotch and slowly put the straps on. Then she grabbed the used nappy and shoved it in my face. "Smear my shit!" she chortled. I was trying to hold my nose from her mess but was struggling. She used the nappy well, as there was a lot of shit in it. Danielle laughed. Well this is it, I thought! This is too much to handle.

I got up, and grabbed Danielle, whilst Amy was still on the floor. She was startled. "What are you doing?!" she yelped as I rugby tackled her onto her back, on the bed.

"Get the fuck off her!" Amy shouted as she got up. I grabbed the open cuffs off the floor, pulled the chain round the bedpost and as quick as I could, bound Danielle to the bedpost, just as Amy dived onto me, the nappy crinkling erratically as she moved.

"Fucking hell, let me go!" Danielle shouted. I fell off the bed and then grabbed Amy by her waist, and carried her.

She put up a struggle. I opened the door slowly and carried Amy out of the room and down the hall, through the second door on the right, which turned out to be Amy's bedroom. "Get off me! Fuck's sake, get off me!" I told her to shut up, and thrust my crotch into her arse, the nappy crinkling loudly, and I carried her across the room, the floor strewn with soiled clothing, including her thongs. I pushed her onto her back, onto the bed and I pinned her down as I grabbed a black leather belt. She still kept struggling but I managed to reach it. I grabbed both her arms and then tied them in a tight knot, looping around the back of the bedpost. I got up off her and left the room, and I could tell she was trying to break free because I could hear the bed violently creaking, and her nappy crinkling along with it.

I went back into Danielle's bedroom where she was almost patiently cuffed. "Sad bastard, let me go!" she insisted. I reached into the bag and pulled out a nappy, and then I jumped onto the bed and straddled her. I undid the button on her jeans and then the zipper, and pulled them off to reveal a red thong. I sniffed the gusset for a moment and then I literally ripped the thong off. "You're gonna pay for that, that thong cost money!" I simply continued to smell the ripped thong, then threw it across the room. I slid the nappy under her arse, pulled up the front and strapped her up. "So you're making me piss and shit myself? Big fucking deal!" she goaded, and I left the room, back to Amy, back to the one with that fine booty who I had masturbated over so many times.

Should I force myself onto her? After all, I was feeling very fucking horny, and she had humiliated me many times already. I didn't stop to make my decision as I entered the room, where she was still struggling to break lose. "Fucking untie me, I'm fucking warning you!" she commanded, clearly feeling degraded. Or else what, you're gonna sit on my face again, I goaded back. "You'll have to let me go at some point, and when you do - " But her sentence was cut by her yelping as I jumped onto the bed. I licked my finger and ran it up and down the gusset of her nappy, that crinkling noise ever present. She was stunned into silence, wondering what it was I was doing. I kept rubbing the nappy, and I asked her why she chose to wear one if she wanted to humiliate me and not herself. "Well, I've always had a fetish for wearing nappies." she reluctantly explained, clearly backed into a corner. "Ever since my mum's ex-boyfriend forced me into them when I was a teenager." Her mum's ex-boyfriend? Why? "He was hot, and one time I had this guy round and we ended up shagging. I must have been about fifteen. Anyway, my mum's ex heard it all, and the next day he accused me of being a slut, so he dragged me into my bedroom, laid me out on the bed, tore off my trousers and my knickers and put one on me. At first I was horrified but then I thought there was something sexual about the way some guy is down there, in your personal area. It's just so..." then she stretched out, making an orgasmic gasp.

She then went on to explain, "He actually threatened to rape me if I didn't wear nappies when he made me. Of course, because I was so sexually aroused by the nappies at this point, I didn't bother changing back into normal knickers. But then, I kind of wanted him to force himself onto me, so one time, I sneakily put my knickers back on and let myself get caught. He ended up dragging me into the garage, tying me up and he stuck his penis in me. I had to pretend that I was scared, but I just wanted sex with him and didn't want my mum to find out I had come onto him." Wow, this is one fucked up girl! No wonder she's so...weird. "When he let me wear knickers again, I started wearing thongs, started sleeping around a lot more. I would get sex off different guys three, maybe four times a week. I fucking love sex, and especially fetishes."

Then Amy's mood darkened. "He tied me up...just like you have. I know you want to rape me." I didn't know what to say. "Don't even lie." She looked down towards her crotch. "You want to stick that massive boner in there, don't you? You want to punish me. Punish me!" I was really resisting the urge. But then, she said something that made me break all restraint. She said, half seductive, half desperate, "It's about time you got your revenge on me. After all, I can't imagine what you must have been through, laid out there on that bed, nowhere to run as my big fat arse is firmly pressed against your face. Oh, how I get aroused and how wet my tight little thong in my tight trousers gets whenever the nose of someone has their nose right up my buttocks!"

That was it! I tore her nappy off and threw it across the room. She looked startled. I undid my trousers and pulled them down to reveal a hugely erect penis. Then without hesitation I rammed it into her pussy. In and out, back and forth, mercilessly pounding at that wet clit. I started grunting at her about how she's humiliated me, and how I'm enjoying this revenge. How she has to face my dick now. She moaned in delight, not even bothering to go along with this farce of me pretending to rape her, she was enjoying it. In and out. Back and forth. Violently thrusting into her pussy. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster. "Oh fuck! Fuck yes!" she squealed in delight. Harder. Faster. Harder. HARDER. HARDER...I felt the climax come. I quickly grabbed the nappy that she still hadn't used, pulled out and as I came I used the inside as a sort of tissue to ejaculate into. Then I slid it under her. She looked bemused and reluctant, but didn't put up much resistance. I strapped the nappy back on and patted the gusset. Then I undid the belt, freeing her. She stood up. She was now walking round with my cum in her nappy. "Wow, that was..." Her speech trailed off in amazement. I asked her if she liked it. "Fuck yeah!" Then I remembered about Danielle. I told Amy to wait.

I went back into Danielle's room and she was laid on the bed, seemingly given up on trying to escape, the nappy still bound to her. I told her she was going to be freed, as I had decided she was a big girl. I went into her draw and, wading through the amount of thongs in there, came across a pair of white bikini briefs she clearly hadn't worn in a while. I told her she could now wear big girl pants, but not thongs. So I took the nappy off, threw it across the room and slid the bikini briefs on her. She just rolled her eyes. Then I grabbed her discarded blue jeans, slid them up her legs and did up the button and zipper. Lastly, I pulled the key for the handcuffs from her jeans pocket and freed her. "Ah, I hate wearing these knickers." she moaned. "I don't feel sexy in them." I pointed out the VPL she now had and found it sexy, and slapped her arse. "Ooh, you cheeky fucker!" she teased.

Amy came in, the nappy crinkling. "Just come for my jeans." and she picked them up, pulled them on and did them up. "What a day it's been, eh, Dani?" she asked.

Danielle just laughed. "Nice curry, wasn't it?" the blonde girl joked.

Then Amy turned to me and said "one last punishment for me." Then she bent over. "Give this a spank." So I slapped her arse and she squealed in delight.

What a strange turn of events. But now I have a great fuck buddy in Amy. It's constant sex, and we adhere to each other's fetishes. It's great. She still likes to sit on my face and fart, and sometimes wear nappies, but there's no bondage involved this time! No doubt I'll have a couple more stories about her to tell you...