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Rebecca Ch. 02

By: execuwriter



It was about two thirty on an afternoon in June when my life as a middle class young Jewish professional woman ended. The preceding month was one of transitions in my life. After mulling over the three acceptances I had received for law school, I decided to go to the local institution. Wanting to have a little fun before three years of hard work, I quit my job with the brokerage where I had served as a financial consultant and made preparations to backpack through Europe. 

The man with whom I was living could not accompany me to Europe and would not countenance his lover being footloose and fancy free over the summer. So we broke up and I returned to my apartment. Having decided to remain in the city for the next three years, I signed a new lease and paid three months rent in advance, as I was not going to be in town until law school started.

Being almost an orphan, I was the perfect victim for Garth. Born Rebecca Milstein in Ukraine, I immigrated to America with my parents and older brother at the age of four. I had few memories of the old country, and knew none of my relatives there. 

Although I was happy in suburban Western Pennsylvania, the rest of my family did not adapt well to their new surroundings. My mother became chronically depressed and died of cancer when I was sixteen. My father and brother did not like being cab drivers in America and moved to Israel after I graduated from high school. 

They were kind enough to turn over the fifty thousand dollars that my mother's insurance policy paid after her untimely death, and I used the funds to attend college. I wanted to be an attorney, but the money ran out after my four years of undergraduate school, forcing me to make a living as a stockbroker. At the age of thirty, I had finally saved enough to realize my dream of going to law school.

My circle of friends included only my boyfriend, with whom I had just had an acrimonious break up and the people at work. Therefore, given my travel plans, everyone I knew did not expect to see me this summer.

Thus I was quite isolated socially two days before I was scheduled to catch a plane for London. That afternoon I had gotten my hair cut in a little shop located among old houses in a quiet Jewish neighborhood in the city of Pittsburgh. 

Just a short distance away, situated on a main thoroughfare, was a bank. It was mid afternoon, just before such financial institutions closed. My car was parked a block away, out of sight from the hair salon. 

I was strolling down the side of the street opposite my car and had just opened the doors with my remote when I noticed a tall man walking toward my car on the other side of the street. On his head was a black stocking cap, but the sides of his scalp were shaven clean. His black leather jacket hung open and a gray wife beater covered his chest. He carried a brown paper bag in his right hand.

When the tail lights of my vehicle flickered on, he picked up his pace. If I had chosen to lock the doors of my car and run back to the beauty shop, I would not have been kidnapped. But such a course of action did not occur to me, and instead I raced the man to my car. 

I flung open the door and jumped into the driver's seat, but before I could lock the car, the man opened the passenger door and got inside. Before I could escape, he seized my right arm and pulled me back into the driver's seat.

My arm felt like it was in a vice. I bit his forearm, but the cold metal from the barrel of his pistol touching my forehead dissuaded me from further resistance. "Bitch, you're gonna drive me out of here," a gravelly voice commanded.

"Please. Let me go. Take the car." 

I trembled as I dangled the keys in front of him.

"You'll call the goddamn police the second I let you out of here. Just start the fucking car." 

The gun was pointed at my chest. Tears ran down my face. 

"I don't think I can drive like this," I sobbed.

"You have two choices. You can start the car, or you can ride in the trunk after I can put a round from this pistol into your head."

I started the car. 

"Where do you want me to go?"

"Where do you live?"

"In a high rise. On Forbes Street."

"Is there a doorman?"

"No."

"How about a back door?"

"Yes."

"We'll go there so I can chill. And if you play any tricks on me, you're dead."

"Are you trying to get away from someone?" I asked, hoping there was a somewhat more benign explanation for my predicament than being abducted by a psycho.

"Just be quiet. I'll do the talking." 

He held the gun at his waist, pointing it so that the bullet would traverse my liver before entering my heart.

"Can't you say something that will make me less afraid?" 

"You best be taking me to your place. If we're not there in another five minutes you're dead."

"We're going there."

I went through a stop sign.

"Jesus Christ. You're lucky a cop didn't see you. Oh, maybe that's what you're trying to do. Get stopped by a cop. You better not be. Because if a fucking cop stops us, that's the end of him. And you, too."

"My name is Rebecca." I thought if he knew my name, knew that I was a person, he might be less eager to pull the trigger.

"It's nice to meet you, Rebecca. Just call me, 'Fucking Maniac'. That's all you've got to know about me; that I'm a fucking maniac who's going to kill you if you don't get me someplace safe off the street."

We continued our journey in silence. I parked in the lot next to my building and we entered through the back. No one was on the freight elevator when it arrived, and we took it up to my apartment on the fourth floor. When we reached my door, he looked at the mezuzah.

"What's this?"

"Just an ornament for good luck," I replied as I opened the door.

My captor turned on the television after we entered my domicile. A local newsman was reporting on a bank robbery near my beauty shop. He said that two of the robbers were killed and one was at large. Miraculously, no one else was injured or killed.

"Well, it looks like I haven't committed any capital crimes yet. I might have to let you live."

The reporter went on about how the dead men had links to a neo-Nazi group. My pulse quickened as I prayed he would not find out that I was a Jew.

"Do you got anything to drink? Booze, I mean."

"I have beer and wine. What would you like?"

"What kind of beer do you got?"

"Miller Lite."

"That beer's for pussies. Don't you got anything else?"

"Just half a bottle of Chablis."

"That stuff's for pussies too. But I guess you are a pussy, so what should I have expected? Give me a brew."

I took a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator, took the cap off, and gave it to my guest. I looked around to see if there was anything that would betray my background. There was a Chagall print hanging on the wall and my Shabbas candles were out on the kitchen cabinet, and I prayed that the animal who had invaded my apartment was not learned enough to pick up these clues.

The story about the bank robbery was over and a commercial for an Adam Sandler movie was playing. "Do you think that guy's a kike?" he asked me.

"Who?" 

"Adam Sandler."

"I don't know."

"Hollywood is run by a bunch of kikes. I bet you he is one."

I spotted a copy of the Jewish Times on the coffee table in front of where the man whom I now surmised was a fugitive sat. I didn't dare move it. But it was only a matter of time before he noticed it if he kept sitting there.

"You can tie me up and gag me. I'm off from work and I'm not expecting anyone until the cleaning lady comes in two days. She has a key, so she'll let herself in and find me. And you'll have a big head start. The police will question me, but believe me; I don't want any more trouble from you. So I'll just give them the basics."

He looked down at the coffee table as he pondered my suggestion. His eyes caught the Jewish Times and his face became twisted with anger.

He grabbed the paper and shook it before my face. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's my boyfriend's; my ex-boyfriend's. He's Jewish."

"Are you a kike?"

I shook my head no. 

He looked at the front page. "Israel to get new fighter jets from U.S.A," he read. "Now when my people take over those goddamn hebes there ain't gonna get nothing! You're lucky you're not a fucking Jew. And I hoped you learned a lesson from dating a kike."

My spirits were lifted by his taking at face value my denial of my Judaism. I tried to take the paper from him. "Let's throw this goddamn thing away. The guy's a prick. I thought I had gotten rid of everything of his."

But he held onto the paper and his eyes roamed to the address label. His face again became twisted with anger. 

"Was you're goddamn boyfriend named Rebecca Milstein?"

I shook my head no.

"You're full of bullshit. You're a kike!"

I ran for the phone. He pulled the cord from the wall as I lifted the receiver.

I screamed, but he covered my mouth. I tried to break free of him, but his grip was like a vice. I felt the barrel of his gun against my ribs.

"If you make a sound when I take my hand off you're mouth, I'll kill you."

Tears were streaming down my face, but I stifled a sob when he took his hand away from my mouth.

He let go of me and an instant later I felt the back of his hand strike my cheek. The force of the blow caused me to land on the floor.

"Goddamn lying bitch!" he muttered.

I sobbed and expected him to fire bullets into me until I was dead. I closed my eyes and silently thought of the oneness of God as I awaited my doom.

Instead, he pulled me off the floor and threw me onto the sofa. "You thought I was going to kill you, didn't you? But you're not getting off that easily. Jewess, what do you do for a living? Now mind you, no lies. I can get pretty nasty, so you better tell me the truth."

"I work at Merrill Lynch. I mean, I worked at Merrill Lynch. I quit last week. I don't have any keys or cards to get in, so I can't get you any money there."

He patted the paper bag that had accompanied him into my car. Smiling, he said, "I don't need no fucking money, at least for the time being."

"I can show you a letter that my boss gave to me the last day I worked. And the pendant they gave me at the party they had for me."

"I don't care what your boss thought of you or about your jewelry."

"I just wanted you to know I wasn't lying."

"You better not goddamn lie to me again."

"I won't."

"Are you expecting anybody to come over here tonight?"

I shook my head no.

"You better be telling the truth. Because if there's a knock at that door, you're going to see whoever knocked get it, and then you're going to get it."

"You don't have to worry. I'm not expecting anyone."

"Don't you tell me not to worry. The whole Pittsburgh Police Department is looking for me. And I'm stuck here with a kike broad who knows I'm a fucking Nazi."

"Look. You said you haven't committed a capital crime. So if you don't kill me, the worst that can happen is that you spend some time in prison. And what I said about the cleaning lady was true. There's not going to be anyone to find me in here for two days. When you're ready, just leave. Take the car. Take my money. Take my credit cards. Just don't hurt me."

He dragged me to my feet. "I best start tying you up then."

I told him where I kept some clothesline, and he cut off a hank. He pulled my wrists behind my back and I did not resist as he tied my hands together. He took the scarf I was wearing and stuffed it into my mouth. He then took a handkerchief, rolled it up, forced it between my lips and teeth, and knotted it behind my head.

"That should keep you quiet while I have my way with you. You didn't think I'd just leave here with your car and money, did you?"

He dragged me over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room in my apartment. He threw me over it and my feet were in the air. I kicked him as he grabbed my pants, but stopped when I again felt the barrel of his gun against my rib cage.

"Don't you fucking try to hurt me again," he said as he cocked the pistol.

He then pulled down my pants, exposing the black thong I had chosen to wear that morning.

"Nice," he remarked. "You're not wearing that for some guy, are you?"

I shook my head no.

"You're not lying, are you?"

I shook my head no.

He then dragged my body off the counter and set me on my feet. "You know, it would be a bad idea to fuck you. That DNA stuff, they'd find it in your pussy after you're dead. So if I'm ever caught, they'd know I killed you, and they're much nastier to rapist killers than to bank robbers. I have a better idea."

He undid the gag and pulled the scarf out of my mouth.

"Now why are you wearing the thong?"

"I wanted to feel sexy. I really did just break up with my boyfriend, and I was going to go to a club after I got my hair done. I hoped that I could get some guy to come up here."

"Fucking slut!"

"Please don't make me feel ashamed for telling you the truth!"

"On your knees bitch!" 

He put his hands on my shoulders and shoved me to the floor. I knew what he had in mind. I knelt before him as he unbuckled his trousers.

"After I shoot my jism into your mouth, it will go into your stomach, and the acid will dissolve it, and they won't be able to prove that I did anything to you, only that I broke into your apartment and stole your car."

He pulled down his underwear and out flopped his tumescent uncircumcised cock. I had only been with Jewish men and the sight of his unclean organ made me want to wretch.

Sensing my disgust, he asked, "Haven't you ever been with a real man?"

I shook my head.

"Are you a virgin?"

I again shook my head.

"That's too bad. I wasn't going to do anything to you if you were a virgin. It could have made you into a head case or something. Not that you necessarily have long to live."

He cocked the pistol again and aimed it at my head. "Suck my dick, bitch!"

I looked up at him. 

"Now!" he exclaimed.

"I'll suck your cock. But please put the gun away. It would be bad for you to shoot me in here, anyway. The neighbors might hear the gun go off."

He released the hammer of the revolver and pointed the barrel away from my head. "Smart fucking bitch. You kikes sure do have something on the ball. Now suck my goddamn cock!"

My hands were tied behind my back and his foreskin still covered the head of his penis. "I can't move away the foreskin," I muttered.

He took his cock into his beefy hand and exposed the head of his penis. I opened my mouth and took his organ inside.

My lovers had all been driven to ecstasy by my skill at fellatio, and I aimed to please the animal that was holding me captive. My tongue danced and swirled over the sensitive area just below the head of his penis, and I was surprised when he gently ran his fingers through my hair. I heard him put the gun down on the counter against which he was leaning. Hoping that I could free my hands and beat him to the gun, I tested the ligature with which my wrists were bound, but the cord held secure.

My head was bouncing up and down as I pleasured him with my mouth and the taste of his pre-ejaculate became stronger as he neared his climax. His penis began to throb. My guess that he was about to ejaculate was correct, and my mouth was soon full of his hot, salty, viscous semen.

My tongue continued slathering over his penis as he ejaculated, and it seemed as if his orgasm would never come to an end. I wondered when he had last jacked off or been with a woman, and then it occurred to me that I might be his first. When he finished ejaculating, he lifted me to my feet and kissed me passionately, unconcerned that my mouth was still laden with his semen or that he was displaying affection to one of his mortal enemies.

He then led me to the sofa, to which I waddled with my pants straddling my ankles, and at his behest I sat down on the middle pillow. I could not help glancing at the pillows that rested at either end, wondering if he intended to forego pumping me full of bullets and instead settle for suffocating me. 

But he crouched before me and pulled my pants from around my ankles. Before I could consider what he had in mind, he took a piece of clothesline and tied my ankles together.

"You have quite a kick. Do you play soccer or something?" he asked me.

"I work out."

He retrieved my scarf, but instead of stuffing it into my mouth, he merely inserted it between my lips and teeth.

"That's just so you don't get any ideas about screaming if you hear someone walking down the hall."

He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bagel. "Kike food," he mused, adding with a smirk, "You don't have to try to answer that."

I watched him tear into the bagel, chewing with his mouth open. I began to grunt.

He came over and pulled the gag out of my mouth. "Do want some?" he asked.

"No, I'm not hungry."

He took a swill of beer, and then let out a large belch. "Well then what do you want?"

"People cut the bagel in two and toast it, and then put cream cheese, or jam, or lox on it."

"You don't mean people. You mean kikes like you."

"Lots of people who eat bagels aren't Jewish. And look. I figure I'm going to die tonight. And I even pleasured you. So why do you have to be so mean to me?"

"OK, thanks for the blowjob. It was great. And now I'm going to put that gag back into your mouth so these stupid mind games will end."

I did not resist as he gagged me again, and then watched as he tossed the mangled bagel onto the floor, took out another one, cut it in two, and placed it into the toaster oven.

He stood before me as he waited for the bagel to toast. He waved the pistol as if it were an extension of his right hand as he told me, "Just because I defiled myself with you, a kike, doesn't mean I've gone soft. But we're going on a trip. And I don't want any shit from you. I can guarantee you, if I you give me any shit, people are going to start getting killed. And number one is going to be you."

The alarm from the toaster oven rang and he returned to his meal. I watched as he searched my refrigerator and took out a tub of cream cheese, which he slathered onto the bagel.

I stared at him while he sat at my kitchen table and consumed my food, until he caught my gaze and chastised me. He finished his beer, took out another one, and turned on the television. He surfed the channels until he found NASCAR, and then idiotically gazed at the screen as souped-up cars circled an asphalt track.

My kidnapper found the stash of beer my boyfriend had left in my refrigerator and neglected to retrieve after our break up. My captor downed bottle after bottle until he fell asleep. 

After he began snoring, I made my move. I arose from the couch and began hopping to the phone in my bedroom, remembering how movie heroines would knock off the receiver and find an ingenious method to call the police.

But before getting to the bedroom I stumbled over the coffee table and went down to the floor. One of my captor's beer bottles fell onto the coffee table and he awakened with a start.

"What the hell are you doing?" he bellowed, seeing me on the floor.

Breaking my pledge not to lie, I mumbled, "I had to pee." Whether he heard me or not was irrelevant. He arose from the sofa and an instant later I felt a sharp pain in my right chest as his foot impacted my rib cage.

He then lifted me up by the hair and threw me onto the sofa. I landed on my stomach. "Kike bitch!" he cried out as he pounded my back with his fist. The blows suddenly stopped and he ran to the bathroom from which horrid noises emanated as my captor emptied his stomach of my food and alcohol.

"Bitch, this is your fucking fault!" he exclaimed as he stormed back into the living room, where I was cowering on the sofa. 


Rebecca Ch. 02



He again pulled me up by the hair, dragged me into the bathroom, and forced me to look at the mess he had made on the floor and all over the toilet. "I might need to piss or take a shit before we leave. Certainly, you would not allow a guest to perform his ablutions in a place this foul, now would you?"

I shook my head no.

"Then you gotta clean up this fucking mess!" 

He then pulled the gag out of my mouth.

"I'll clean the bathroom but you need to untie my hands."

"No dice."

"Well then how am I going to clean up this mess?"

"With your tongue!"

He pushed me down on my knees and forced my mouth to the rim of the commode. 

"Lick it up, sister!" 

I licked his vomit off the rim of the toilet, spitting it into the bowl. When the commode was clean he forced my head down onto the floor and made me lick up the mixture of food and gastric juices that he had deposited there. When no more remained, I rose up and emptied my stomach into the bowl. 

When I was through vomiting, he flushed the toilet. "Good job, kike bitch!" he complimented me as he replaced the gag in my mouth.

He seized me by the hair, dragged me back into the living room and threw me over the back of the sofa so that my ass was in the air. "You know, since I'm taking you with me and if they find your body where we're going it will be all decomposed, I don't think it will matter if I put a trace of me inside you tonight."

With that, he yanked down my thong. I tried to relax when I felt his rigid cock probing my pussy, but he couldn't get inside and stormed away. When he returned, I felt the neck of a beer bottle pressing against my private parts, and produced a muffled scream when he forced it inside.

I writhed and tried to push him away with my legs, but he was like a concrete pillar, and nothing I did stopped him from raping me with the beer bottle. When I finally went limp, he asked me, "Are you ready for my cock now?"

I nodded yes, and seconds later his cock was inside me. I lay limp as he pumped, his climax delayed from his intoxication and recent orgasm, extending my agony. 

When he was through, he finally undid my bonds. "Bitch, you got to get yourself cleaned up."

I ripped the gag out of my mouth. "I don't want to go with you. Just kill me now and get it over with!" I screamed.

He grabbed me and covered my mouth with his hand. "You ain't got a choice in the matter. Believe it or not, the bank was the first job I ever pulled. And my buddies getting killed has me kind of shaken up. I'm gonna need your Jew brain to help me through this."

He took his hand off my mouth. I screamed and he immediately replaced it. "You'd better get with the program. I'm the one in control here. I'm sure you know there are worse things than death." 

Once again he took his hand off my mouth.

"OK, but could you quit calling me a kike and shoving things in my pussy?"

"All right. But we have to leave soon and you ain't riding with me looking like that."

"Then may I bathe?"

"Sure."

I began running hot water in the bathtub and as I waited for the tub to fill up, I opened up a bottle of mouthwash and swirled the medicinal liquid around to purge my oral cavity of the foul taste of vomit. After I brushed my teeth, I saw that enough water had accumulated for me to sit in the tub. Then I removed my top and brassiere and stood naked before the man who had just raped me. 

"You don't look bad at all."

Ignoring his compliment, I sat in the tub, curling up so that my thighs were against my chest, hiding my nakedness. I wrapped my arms around my knees and began to sob, softly, hoping not to anger my captor.

A box of bubble bath was sitting on the rim of the tub. He took the box and poured some into my bathwater. I looked up at him, gratitude in my eyes for his tender gesture.

"You like bubble baths?"

I nodded yes. "My mother used to give me bubble baths when I was little. She's gone now. It makes me think of her."

"Is your father alive?"

"He and my brother live in Israel. I'm alone here. You picked a good victim. No one will know that I'm gone for quite some time."

"Why are you telling me all this? Is this some kind of mind game?"

"No, it's just you've decided we're going to be spending some time together. If you don't know anything about me, we won't have anything to talk about."

"So what did you do for a living?"

"They called me an account executive. Really, I was just a stockbroker. But I was going to start law school in the fall, and before the term began I was going to sightsee in Europe. The plane ticket is in my bedroom drawer. But I guess I'm not going."

"Money and law, real kike jobs-so how much money did you steal?"

"You promised not to use that awful name for Jews. I don't know what your problem with my people is, but I didn't choose to be born a Jew, and if I had a choice I probably wouldn't have been born one. But I'm stuck with being who I am. I swear I never cheated anyone or stole anything. 

"Being taken captive by you was a bad break. Shit like this happens. But please don't make it any worse by calling me that awful name."

"I'll call you whatever I goddamn well please. And call me Garth."

"Is that your real name?"

"It's what I want to be called."

"OK, Garth, was I your first just now?"

"You're getting pretty fucking personal."

"You hurt me and I'm sitting here, in a lot of pain. I'm grateful to be alive. You seem to think that I can somehow help you. Please don't make me wish that I was dead.

"You weren't the first."

"When I was giving you the blowjob, you started running your fingers through my hair. You were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

"Yeah, but she's none of your goddamn business. Just leave it at that."

"I'm sure she wouldn't be happy if she knew what you've done to me."

"I told you. Don't ask anymore about her."

"OK, she's off limits. But if you've ever loved someone, how could you have done what you did to me?"

"So I guess you think I'm not going to fuck you whenever I want because this person I'm in love with will somehow find out what a bad guy I am. Well it's not going to happen, because she's dead and it's your fucking people's fault."

"I'm sorry"

"Fucking sorry ain't gonna be good enough. I'm going to think about what happened to Jolinda every time I have to hit you or curse you out to get you back in line. Your suffering will be my revenge."

"Maybe a Jew did something to hurt your friend. But whatever it was, couldn't someone who wasn't Jewish have done the same thing?"

The tub was full and Garth turned off the water. "You need to get cleaned up. I've got to get going." 

He had completely ignored my question.

"I hope you think about what I just said."

"For your sake, you'd better hope that I don't."

I turned on the water again and put my head under the faucet and then shampooed my hair. When I took the washcloth and ran it between my legs, it was bloody when I pulled it out of the water.

"Are you on your fucking period?"

"No. You hurt me with the bottle."

"That bottle neck wasn't even as big as my cock."

"Pussies weren't made to have beer bottles shoved in them."

"Next time just let me stick my dick inside you; maybe you'll like it."

I wretched as I thought of him penetrating me again but I kept my cool to stay alive.

"Does that mean you'll allow me to live if I let you fuck me?"

"Where we're going all there is going to be to do is fuck, so you better learn to like it."

"Where are we going?"

"That's none of your fucking business. You'll find out when we get there."

I put soap on the washcloth and lathered my arms, noticing that I had Garth's attention as my naked torso twisted and turned.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Yeah, you look OK."

"I would like it if you thought I was pretty."

"The only thing you need to like is doing what you're told. You don't need to think or want or hope. And the faster you do as you're told the better and the longer you'll live."

I lifted my right leg out of the tub, extending it high over my head, showing off my excellent muscle tone. His eyes tracked my every movement. I could tell he was pleased by what he saw.

"Can't you say anything nice about me?"

"You people are the enemy of the white race. You don't deserve to live among decent people. As soon as your usefulness to me ends, I should kill you."

"Then you might as kill me now. One can't exist without a future."

"Believe me bitch; it wouldn't trouble me in the least."

I stood up in the tub and made no effort to hide my nakedness. My captor scanned my body. Having piqued his interest, I then hid my breasts and pudenda with a towel.

"I like the feeling of a man inside me."

"You just keep talking that way."

"But it's hard to feel pleasure when I'm hurting."

"Bitch, you better get used to liking it however I give it to you."

"You won't have to hurt me."

"Don't think I'm ever gonna be your friend. I'm gonna exploit you like the Jews suck the blood from anyone who comes into contact with them, just like leeches. And believe me, payback's gonna be a bitch for you."

I ignored his last diatribe and moved past him to inspect my face in the mirror and felt his eyes tracking me. Dropping the towel, I again exposed my body as I reached for the hair dryer and turned it on. He waited patiently as I dried my hair, puzzled that I didn't seem to fear him. There were impressions on my wrists from the rope with which he had bound me.

"Do you want me to put on makeup?"

"I don't give a shit."

I opened the medicine cabinet and took out a jar of powder and brushed it onto my face, desperately trying to cover up my fear as well as the few blemishes it was designed to hide. His eye was on my right hand as it trembled, betraying the superficiality of my bravado.

"You're right to be scared. I'm the real thing. I don't put up with nothing from rotten shit like you people."

I screwed the lid back onto the jar of powder and retrieved my blush from the medicine cabinet. I tried to imagine preparing for a date, but the stern countenance with which I would be soon more familiar was visible behind me in the mirror reminding me that I probably was nothing more than a dead woman walking.

The blush enlivened my cheeks, and I moved onto my eyes, which I surrounded with black eyeliner and then finished by applying gray shadow to my upper lids. As I coated my lips with dark purple lipstick, I studied Garth's face but could not glean whether or not he was pleased by my efforts.

I turned to face him. My tits brushed against his chest. He gave no ground. We were inches apart.

"I'll try to look pretty for you. I'll fuck you. Tell me. Do I have a chance?"

"Honestly, no."

I gathered up my makeup, hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and diaphragm. As I walked out of the bathroom my captor trailed me. 

"You don't do much to help a woman's confidence."

"Why don't you just cut out the bullshit? I don't got all night."

I found my purse in the living room and stuffed it with my cosmetics and the few other meager possessions I was allowing myself. Ignoring my captor who followed at my heels, I strode to the bedroom, opened my underwear drawer, found a black bra and matching bikini panties, and put them on. 

"What do I need to wear?"

"Just get dressed, goddamn it!"

"Well am I going to be inside or outside?"

"Just put on some fucking clothes!"

I found a pair of jeans that I wriggled into. They were very tight and delineated my ass quite well. I then threw on a black tank top.

"Is this all right?" 

"It doesn't fucking matter."

I walked over to the closet and slid on a pair of black sandals. On my dresser was a scrunchie with which I made my hair into a pony tail.

"I'm ready."

"We're going to your car. And for your information, I'm a real good shot so don't think you're going to be able to run away."

I looked around my apartment. Three generations after the Holocaust, again a Jew was being yanked away from her life to be enslaved by an evildoer with nary a protest. "Get moving!" my captor snarled, and I crossed the threshold of my home to a dark future.



Rebecca Ch. 03



I had given Garth the car keys and the lights on my vehicle flashed when he pressed the button on the keyless entry. He led me to the driver's side and opened the door for me.

"You drive. I got to think. Remember, you're just a treat, more or less like a fringe benefit. There are plenty of fucking females in the world that I'd be better off with who aren't kikes. So if anything fucked up happens, you'll be getting a round in your head."

I turned the key in the ignition and the motor purred. I was displeased to be reminded that the gas tank was almost full.

"Where to?"

"Your personal hell; one of the most god forsaken places in America, so when we get there, you'll wish you'd never asked. Just get on the Interstate and go west across the river and through the tunnels."

We journeyed silently as I adhered strictly to all the traffic laws, scrupulously following the speed limits and stopping completely at all stop signs though tempted to attract a cop's attention to my plight. But I knew my captor was serious about not wanting to encounter the law, so I tried not to extend the scope of my tragedy.

He smoked cigarette after cigarette as I drove us to what he had promised would be my doom. My last boyfriend had made me quit smoking and the habit had become abhorrent to me, but the stress of having been raped and kidnapped made me crave the relaxation I knew I could derive from nicotine.

"Can I have one?" I asked.

"So you smoke, bitch? I didn't think a high class Jewess like you would want to dirty the air."

"I used to smoke. Since I don't have long to live anyway, I guess it's not going to hurt me if I have one once in a while."

He put one of his Marlboros between my lips. I inhaled as he held a match to the tip and enjoyed the wave of relaxation that came over me as my body reacted to the jolt of nicotine.

We crossed the West Virginia border and drove south on the Interstate. Finally after an eternity during which my adrenaline had stifled any drowsiness, in the middle of nowhere appeared an exit sign. I had driven for so long that there was now a soft blue glow on the eastern horizon.

"Take the exit," he said gruffly. 

The only building at the end of the exit ramp was a closed fast food eatery. "Which way do you want me to go?" I asked when we reached the intersection.

"Wouldn't you like to know, bitch," he snarled.

"Look, I've helped you. Why don't you just let me go now? Believe me; I don't want to have anything more to do with you. I'll wait until that restaurant opens before I try to get help. That should give you a one or two hour head start.

"I won't even tell anyone that you have my car. It's a piece of shit anyway. I'll just get a new one when I get back home. I'll tell the folks at the restaurant that I had a fight with my boyfriend and I just wanted to get away from him, so he left me here."

"No dice, bitch. This is too good of an opportunity for me to pass up. That pussy of yours is gonna get a workout from my cock while I'm waiting for the heat on me to die down. Being my cum receptacle will probably be the first decent thing you've ever done in your life."

I began to sob. 

"Quit blubbering, bitch. It ain't gonna do you no good."

"So this is the way life is going to end for me? You're just going to rape me over and over until you get tired of me and then kill me?"

"You can try to enjoy it while it lasts."

"No thanks."

"You keep acting that way and you're going to get a round in your head."

"That would probably be the first decent thing you've ever done in your life."

My captor lifted his right arm and looked like he was going to back hand me across the face. His countenance was twisted by anger, but then his expression turned to puzzlement as he realized that by fueling his rage I was trying to manipulate him into killing me, thus ending his opportunity to gain pleasure from my body. He lowered his hand and shook his head.

"Just drive over there into the parking lot," he told me, pointing to the restaurant.

He turned the motor off, snatched the keys from the ignition, and got out of the car, keeping the gun trained on me as he walked around the front of the vehicle, evidently fearing that I would make a dash for freedom and disappear into the woods behind the restaurant. With no extra set of keys to restart the car and drive away and no desire to be hunted in the woods by a maniac, I was forced to submit to his will. He opened my door and grabbed my arm, dragging me out of my vehicle, and then popped open the trunk.

"You're going in there, bitch."

"OK."

"If I stop to buy shit or we get stopped by a cop, you best be quiet. I ain't gonna be no nigger's bitch in jail, so that means I ain't gonna be arrested by no fucking cop. 

"And since your pussy car ain't gonna outrun no cop car that means if you draw the fucking cops to me, they're going to get wasted. And if we're at a Seven Eleven and I see that some motherfucker is listening to you telling them to call the cops, they're going to get wasted even if they're an old lady or a kid. So if you care about the human race, you'll just be quiet while you're in there until we get where we're going."

In the back seat of the car he found one of my scarves, which he used to bind my wrists behind my back. I sat down on the lip of the trunk and let him tie my ankles together with my belt. He found one of my hair bands, which he fashioned into a gag, forced it between my teeth, and then knotted it behind my head. I then followed his instructions and lay down inside of the trunk of my car. He closed the lid, and at moment I began serving my sentence to expiate the imaginary sins of my people.

He pulled away, throwing my head against the rear fender of the Cavalier, the tires squealing as he hastened to his secret hideaway. Sleepiness caught up with me quickly and as I drifted off, I wondered if the carbon monoxide fumes from the exhaust might leak into the sealed compartment in which I lie and mercifully do me in. 

How long I slept, I did not know. Tears came to my eyes when I awakened, still confined to the trunk. It had not been a nightmare fueled by fragments of memories from a horror movie. 

My car was traversing a bumpy road that seemed endless. Bound hand and foot, I could not protect my head, which struck the floor of the trunk again and again as my vehicle went up and down over rocks and into ruts. My forehead became damp with sweat as the trunk trapped the heat of the late spring sun.

The car finally stopped. The driver opened his door and slammed it shut as he got out. Would he remember his passenger in the trunk? Or so ashamed of the abuse to which he had subjected me, that unable to face his victim, he would let me die from heat stroke in the trunk of my car? 

In no hurry to face my abuser, I did nothing to call attention to my plight. All was quiet about me except for birdsong and the footsteps of my captor as he trudged about. His footsteps stopped and I heard the dribble of liquid, which I deduced was the sound of urine hitting the ground.

The footsteps resumed and came closer. I heard the trunk lid pop and a second later I squinted in reaction to bright sunlight hitting my eyes as the lid cracked open. 

I dreaded seeing my captor's face again, but refusing to give him the satisfaction of showing fear, I looked him in the eyes when he raised the lid. A cigarette was dangling from his lips and he was wearing a shit-eating grin as he regarded his captive.

He grabbed my tank top and lifted my torso so that I was sitting erect in the trunk. It was then that I realized how much my head, my neck, my back, my shoulders, and my legs hurt from being thrown about in the trunk. Still gagged, I glared at my captor.

"I'm going to take the gag out of your mouth, and you can scream as much as you want bitch, because there ain't no one around for miles that will hear you."

He pulled my hair band from between my teeth and it fell to rest around my neck. To show my toughness, I continued to stare into his eyes, not uttering a word.

He undid the belt that held my legs together and effortlessly scooped me up into his arms, which were like steel girders. My survival was at his behest, for a man with his strength could wring my neck with his bare hands. 

But I was overcome by the awkward sensation that I felt safe cradled in his arms. Had he been a cave man and I a princess from another tribe whose fortune was to be kidnapped and made his mate, our offspring and I would be safe from predators and always have the carcass of a mammoth or caribou on which to dine. 

He placed my feet onto the ground and I stood and surveyed my new environs. Surrounded by forest in a clearing about twenty feet in front of me was a ramshackle log cabin. Across the front window ran several cracks, and visible inside the pane were thick cobwebs. The logs were gray with large cracks running lengthwise. The roof sagged in the middle. A few yards to the left was a large shed, the inside hidden by double doors that were secured in place by a padlock that held together links of a rusty chain.

"What do ya think?" my captor asked.

At that instant there was no malice in his eyes. It was as if he was bringing someone special home to roost. Thinking that he might be experiencing a moment of clarity, I made a final plea for my freedom.

"You must know by now that this was a mistake. But look. We can put this right. All you have to do is put me back into the trunk and drive back to the highway. 

"You leave me off there and I swear to God that I won't even tell anyone that you have my car. I won't even call the cops. I'll call my ex-boyfriend and have him pick me up. Once I start fucking him again he won/t ask any goddamn questions.'

The sullen expression on his face betrayed his lack of interest.

"Here's an even better idea. I saved about a hundred grand for law school. You drive me back to Pittsburgh. I'll sell the stocks and cash in the bonds, and then turn everything into cash and just give it to you. Just think-around a hundred grand in small bills. 

"That would last you for years! You wouldn't even need my car. You could buy yourself a brand new Mustang or Corvette. 

"But you've got to let me go. You don't want to kill anyone. I don't believe in capital punishment. But if I'm dead you don't want to be on trial with a jury made up of a dozen people who do."

He paused and thought for a moment.

"No fucking Jew is going to let a hundred grand go and not put out an APB. I reckon that it'd be about a day before the fucking cops caught up with me. And if I get pulled over in this fucking car, the cops are going to know something's not kosher. After they get a hold of you, that'd be the last time I'd get to see daylight for forty or fifty years.

"And as far as being fried by the law, when we crossed the border into goddamn West Virginia, I put myself on the hook for interstate kidnapping. That's a capital crime you know. 

"So even if I let you go now, I figure the fucking ZOG, that's by the way National Socialist lingo for the Zionist Occupation Government which runs the show in this country, would want to teach us a lesson by snuffing out my life if they caught up with me. There's just no way you're not going to let the cops know what happened to you if I let you go. So you're just going to have to stay here with me and face the consequences.

"You know, bitch, I was thinking while we were coming up here that when you first laid eyes on me you must have thought you wouldn't want to fuck me if I was the last guy left on earth."

He paused and scanned my face for a reaction. He was right but I tried to show no emotion.

"Well now, it's just you and me and the bears and the coyotes. So you're going to get to find out what that's like. 

"That pussy of yours is too nice and juicy to go to waste. Before I snuff you, you're going learn what it's like to get it from a real man. "

I watched as he unloaded supplies from the back seat of my car. While I was asleep, he must have stopped to buy food. The rear compartment of my car was full with bags of canned food, cereal, instant potatoes, rice, flour, corn meal, liquor, beer, and Gatorade.

"I could help you cook some of that."

"A Jewess like you in the kitchen cutting up vegetables-now that would be a site because a fine looking bitch like you probably can get some girly guy to buy dinner anytime you wanted. I'll bet you've never cooked a goddamn meal since Home Economics. 

"You'll get whatever's left when my stomach's full if I decide you're worth keeping around. And if I catch you stealing any of my fucking food, you'll wish you hadn't because I bought it for me, and I beat the shit out of anyone who steals my stuff."

He led me inside the rickety domicile. The door opened to a large common area. In one corner were a stove, sink, and refrigerator. The white paint on the appliances was being replaced by rust. An old coffee pot sat on the stove. Through the window behind the sink I could see a gas tank that supplied energy for the appliances. 

A fireplace was located catty-cornered from the kitchen area. In the middle of the common space was a kitchen table surrounded by four chairs. The table and chairs bore scratches and gouges and the finish had worn off, revealing rough gray wood. 

Adjacent to the kitchen was a bathroom that contained an empty toilet, a sink, and a tub, the white surfaces of which were covered by layers of filth. A short hallway led to two bedrooms, each with a metal bed frame on which lay bare mattresses.

As he saw me inspecting my surroundings, my captor informed me, "Don't think you're going to get to stay in here. You'll be inside that shed unless it's time for me to have my way with you."

"It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while."

"Who the fuck would want to come to a shit hole like this?"

"It could be nice."

"My dad and his dad used to come up here to hunt once in a while. But no one's used it in the last few years since my dad died."

"Is your mother alive?"

"Not that it's any of your fucking business, but no."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They hated each other. My dad drank himself to death and by the time he died my mother was a wreck from all the worrying she did about how we were going to pay the rent and have food on the table. She only lasted a couple of years longer than he did before she got lung cancer. They're better off wherever they're at."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"Fuck no."

"When did you start liking Nazism?"

"Enough of your fucking questions! Getting inside my head isn't going to do you any goddamn good! Now you stay in here while I unload."

"I can help."

"Bitch, how are you going to carry anything with your hands tied behind your back?"

"You could untie me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? As soon as your hands were free, you'd be hitting, kicking, biting, and scratching; anything to get these fucking car keys," which he dangled inches from my face.

"I just want the opportunity to show you I'm not out to hurt you, that I can be useful. I want to earn your trust."

"Earn my trust? We're goddamn enemies! I'm a Nazi and you're a Jew, you know. If you had carjacked me, I'd be figuring out how to fucking kill you right this minute."

"I'm completely dependent on you for survival. You could kill me with your bare hands. I just want to show you that it's worth keeping me alive."

"You're not worth shit! You and all your fucking people are poison to the world, which by the way would be a lot better place if all you goddamn Jews were dead or had never been born. When I get tired of fucking you, you can be assured that I will do my duty to humanity and kill you!"

"Why do you hate us so much?" I sobbed.

He did not reply as he strode through the door and walked to the car. He raised the hood and returned a few minutes later wearing a smirk. "There's no way you're gonna start that fucking car now," he told me as he threw my car keys onto the kitchen table. 

He stormed out of the cabin and returned with an armful of supplies. It required several trips to empty the car. 

When he finished he glared at me with beady eyes. I was standing next to the sink, not having dared to sit down; looking at the provisions that now took up every inch of the table top. 

"Bitch, you best be thinking how you want to die. You know, if you behave yourself, I might just give you a choice."

"I'll be good to you. I promise."

"Before I'm through with you, you're going to regret being born."

"I'm a human being just like you. Remember that. Someday you'll be sorry for what you've done to me."

"Fuck you," he muttered as he cleared a space on the table by putting some of the provisions on the floor. "Do you know what? You've just earned yourself a fuck," he snickered.

He grabbed my top and dragged me over to the table, the top of which was about the height of my waist. He then slammed me down onto the table. My forehead hit the wooden surface hard. "Ouch, goddamn it!" I screamed.

My back then exploded in pain as his fist slammed into my rib cage. "Stop it, please!" I pleaded when my breath returned.

"You best be quiet bitch!"

"I told you I'd fuck you. You don't have to be so rough with me."

He jerked my jeans and my panties down so that I was bare assed with my torso flat on the table, hands tied behind my back. He pressed my chest down against the table top with his meaty right hand and I could hardly breathe.

"You're going to suffocate me!" 

"You would be so lucky!" he snickered as I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. "Now you're in for the ride of your life!"

The muscles that protected my vagina from unwanted penetration went into spasm as his erect penis probed my labia. He pushed forward as he tried to enter me and I winced. As much as he tried, he could not get inside of my pussy.

"You promised me, bitch!" he whined.

"Please, give me a chance to relax."

I heard him release the trigger guard of his pistol and cock it. Seconds later I felt the cold metal of the barrel on the skin behind my right ear.

"That's not going to help me relax!"

"You've got five seconds bitch, or your brains are going to be splattered across this table!"

"Please don't kill me! I just can't right now!"

"One! Two! Three! Four!"

As he counted, he continued to probe me with his penis to no avail. But before he could utter the final number in the count, I screamed, "Please, I don't want to die! I'll give you another blowjob!"

He took the pistol away from my head and released the trigger. I winced as he lifted me by the hair. My knees buckled but he caught me before I fell to the floor and I regained my balance.

We were face to face. "It better be good," he snarled, and his smoky breath permeated my airways.

"It will be," I promised him. I then stood on my tiptoes and kissed him his lips.

"What was that for?"

"Because you let me live."

"Do you like me or something? Just to keep things straight between us, I don't like you."

"You might like me someday."

"Stop messing with my mind, bitch."

I looked at one of the bottles of Wild Turkey that was setting on the table. 

"If you gave me a shot of that stuff, it might help me relax. You know, I've been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours."

He reached for the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and held it to my mouth. I guzzled about two shots before he took it away.

"Hey, that stuff's expensive!"

"It could be my last drink. I had to make sure it was a good one."

"Now you're getting with the program, bitch."

"Don't you think Rebecca is a prettier name than 'bitch'?"

"Don't press your luck. You're lucky you ain't dead yet."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Letting me live; and, by the way, that shows you're not all bad."




Rebecca Ch. 03



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

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

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

"This shit's good," he remarked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're one crazy bitch."

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

"Do you want to eat my pussy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're fucking crazy!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No. I want you to like it!"

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

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

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

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

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

"It tickled! That's all."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can let yourself go," I whispered.

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

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

"It doesn't change who you are."

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

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

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

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

"I guess I'm just sentimental."

He stood up. 

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

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

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

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

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

"At least one in particular."

I frowned, as he obviously meant me.

"You liked what we just did."

"Yeah, it was good."

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

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

"He had a small dick."

"So you like a real man?"

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

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

"So you respect me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I have one?"

"Bitch, you're high maintenance."

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

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

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

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

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

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

I took another drag on my cigarette.

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

"Go ahead."

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

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

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

"So I'm not bad?'

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

"You're damn right."

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

I took another sip of whiskey.

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't give a flying fuck!"

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

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

"Hey, it's your booze!"

He stroked my thigh.

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

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

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

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

"You're into bondage?"

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

"Can I have another puff from my cigarette?"

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

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

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

"Damn straight."

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

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

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

"Garth, you're scaring me!"

He released the trigger and put the gun down.

"Or wring her neck with my bare hands."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you let go of my wrists then?"

"Sure."

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

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

I took another swig.

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

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

"I second that!"

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

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

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

"Sure thing."

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

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

"I am really getting smashed!"

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




Rebecca Ch. 03



The room spun as I watched him exit the dwelling.

"What are you going to do to me now?"

"Something I've wanted to do since I was a kid."

He went into the shed and returned with a rope. It looked to be about three quarters of an inch thick and its ancient weave had been darkened by imbedded filth. I watched as he weaved a noose.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed.

"I told you that you'd be glad to be so fucked up when you figured out what I had in store for you."

"You said you'd tell me before you killed me!"

"But notice I didn't say when I'd tell you. For instance, I could hold that gun to your head, say I was about to kill you, and then pull the trigger. If you had gone to law school for about a year, you probably would have known to ask me how much notice I was planning to give you."

"Oh god, you're gonna hang me, just like they used to lynch blacks."

"Look, I'm just playing with you now. Don't worry, I ain't gonna kill you yet. I promise. You're gonna be the actress in this scene I've been imagining since I started jacking off when I was a kid. I figured I might as well get it out of my system while I've got you around."

After he completed the seventh turn and pulled the end of the rope through the top eye, he placed the noose around my neck, resting the knot on my chest, and then pulled it tight. The fibers of the rope itched, but I was at the mercy of my captor and dared not anger him. 

"Please, if I must die, just put a round in my head. I don't want to choke to death."

"Bitch, I ain't even gotten started."

"I'm so scared. Please don't strangle me!"

"I'll cue you in on something. I ain't gonna have your corpse stinking up this goddamn place. And since you're a goddamn Jew who don't even deserve to be alive, I ain't gonna be the one to dig the hole to stuff your body into. 

"So when it's time, you're gonna get to dig your own goddamn grave. And since there ain't no hole been dug around here, I guess you ain't got nothing to worry about yet."

"Then why do I have a goddamn noose around my neck?"

He stroked my sides with his index fingers. His touch felt wonderful, even though I assumed that I was about to die a painful death. 

"I fucking told you. It's your chance to be a star. What I used to imagine when I jacked off, now I'm going to see goddamned live. And if I like it, I'm gonna wanna see it again. So if you quit bitchin' and put on a good show for me, you might get to live a little longer."

Tears streaked my face.

"I'm so scared!"

He threw the free end of the rope over one of the rafters above me, grabbed the end, and pulled the slack out of the rope so the knot moved off my chest, finally settling behind my left ear. I had to stand on my tiptoes as he increased the tension on the rope.

"We can see who gets tired first. Even if I don't pull any harder, you're legs will give way eventually and you'll have to hope I let go or you'll choke to death. Or I might get tired holding the rope and have to let you down."

"I'll do anything. Just stop torturing me!"

"But the whole point of you being here is so that I have someone to torture. And as far as pain goes, you ain't felt nothing yet."

He pulled harder on the rope and the noose tightened around my neck. I tried to push myself up higher, succeeding only for an instant in lifting my head less than an inch, and the ligature only became tighter after my muscles gave way. My chest heaved for air, and I rasped as I drew in a breath.

"It's enough!" I exclaimed hoarsely.

"Bitch, you don't understand. You don't got a choice here. It's only enough when I decide it is!"

He hoisted me into the air. My legs kicked wildly as my feet searched in vain for a solid surface. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, he relaxed his grip and I sank to the floor.

"Please, no more! I beg you!"

I was standing erect, struggling to free my hands, hyperventilating, waiting to see if my captor was sated. He pulled on the rope and the noose tightened around my neck, making me instinctively stand up on my tiptoes. 

I turned my head and saw one of the kitchen chairs and moved toward it to stand on the seat. But just as I raised my leg, he kicked the chair away.

"Oh no you don't!" 

He pulled on the free end of the rope, jerking me off balance. I sank to my knees, forcing my neck to bear the full weight of my body, thus tightening my noose even more. He pulled even harder, lifting me to my feet, and then allowed me some slack when I regained my balance. The noose remained uncomfortably tight around my neck and I felt faint as the circulation to my brain was cut off.

He let go of the rope. I staggered and my legs gave way. I sank into the chair, which he had managed to place behind me after letting go of the rope.

"I'm dizzy," I murmured.

"Goddamn you, bitch! Don't die on me yet!" he snarled while struggling to loosen the ligature that was still tight around my neck.

The knot finally loosened and I drew in a deep breath. I lifted my head and saw Garth towering over me. The furrows of his forehead had deepened and his pupils were dilated. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead and I saw that he was trembling.

As I tried to move my head, pain shot through my neck, making me grimace. I shrieked and tears streamed down my face.

"Can you move your hands and feet?" Garth demanded, betraying worry for his victim.

I was able to wiggle my fingers and toes.

"I think so," I replied through sobs.

"Goddamn it, are you fucking paralyzed or not?"

"No. I'm OK."

"Why did you have to fall? Were you trying to off yourself or something?"

"No, I just lost my balance."

I could not stop crying.

"Stop your blubbering!"

I could only hold back my tears for a few seconds. I then burst out with a shriek and began sobbing uncontrollably..

"God help me!" I screamed.

"Stop crying, goddamn it!"

"Are you going to torture me like this every goddamn day for the rest of my life?"

"I'll do whatever I damn well please with you!"

I wailed loudly.

"I can't live like this! No one would even do this to an animal! Kill me now! Please! I beg you!"

He held the whiskey bottle to my lips but I refused to open my mouth.

"Drink some more of this. It'll settle you down."

"I don't want any one of your damn whiskey!"

As I uttered those words, he managed to pour some whiskey into my mouth, which I spat onto the filthy floor. 

"Suit yourself."

I regarded the squalid dwelling and the environs in which I would be imprisoned, wincing as I moved my freshly stretched neck. The state of decay of the place was a reflection of the state of my captor's mind. His was a life wasted. My sadness and fear were replaced by anger that the gift his Creator had bestowed upon him was being used to spread disharmony in the world. 

The loathsome creature that held me captive was performing the antithesis of tikkun olam. The answer was not to allow him to end my life.

My life had a purpose again. As a Jew, it was my duty to help mend the world. What I had done before being kidnapped was irrelevant to any real purpose my life had. Once I realized my task on Earth was to prevent Garth from spreading misery in the name of his loathsome beliefs, my tears stopped.

"If you're not going to kill me now, could you untie my hands and take the rope off my neck?"

"Bitch, you think you can just order me around and then I have to do whatever you say? It ain't gonna be like that around here."

"Garth, please untie me."

"If you ask nice like that, you might just get me to do something for you once in a while."

He untied my hands. They were numb, but as I shook them, the feeling returned. I then tried to loosen the knot and remove the noose from my neck, but it was so tight that it would not budge.

"Please help me," I implored him.

"I told you I wasn't going to kill you. There was no call for you to start screaming like that."

After a few seconds he was able to loosen the rope, which he then removed from my neck.

"My neck hurts so fucking bad."

"Sorry. I ain't got no Percocet or anything like that up here. If you want, maybe I can go to town and score some off a hillbilly."

"Don't bother."

"Why? If someone had done that to me, I'm sure that my neck would fucking hurt."

"What if you get arrested? You certainly aren't going to tell the cops to come up here and get me. And I'm sure you'd have me tied up or locked up so I don't wander off. I don't find the prospect of starving to death up here very enticing."

"I see your point. I just thought you might need some kind of painkiller."

"It's not being in pain right now that's so bad; it's knowing you can inflict pain on me any time you want and that you're going to do it over and over again."

"Damn right."

"And you've promised to kill me. No one can live like that."

"OK, I won't hurt you every day. And when I'm through with you, you can have your handful of pills and a glass of whiskey to off yourself."

"Thank you."

"Do you want something to eat?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"You ain't eaten nothing since yesterday. You've got to be hungry."

"So you're going to let me stay alive for a while?"

"If you don't try anything smart, I guess so."

"I have a good pussy, don't I?"

"Yeah, I guess it's all right."

The tentativeness with which he approached me when we made love suggested he had little basis for comparison.

"It's yours anytime. Remember that."

"What are you-a cocksucking nymphomaniac?"

"I like doing it with a man; all the more if it helps me stay alive."

"You need to eat some goddamn food. You ain't one of them skinny bitches with anorexia, are you?"

"I'm afraid not. If I live long enough, I'm sure I'll be fat some day, just like my mother."

"Just tell me what you want to goddamn eat!"

"I see a can of tuna fish. I'll have a tuna fish sandwich."

He gave me a can opener and a plastic knife. I opened up the can, took two slices of white bread from a loaf he bought, and made myself a sandwich. 

My appetite returned as I savored the familiar taste of canned tuna fish. Perhaps my unconscious mind perceived a glimmer of hope after my captor offered me food, and saw to it that I nourished myself. I had to struggle not to wolf down my meager lunch.

"All we're gonna have is shit like this, at least until I can figure out if they're lookin' for me around here."

"It will be all right."

"You probably had guys taking you out to fancy restaurants all the time."

"No, my boyfriend was going to medical school on loans. I usually paid when we ate out."

"He was a stupid fuck for letting you go."

"I really liked him at first. He had this crappy computer that crashed all of the time, and I figured he had enough to worry about with studying for tests, so I bought him a real nice one. I paid for his plane ticket to Hawaii when we went there. I bought him a suit when his roommate got married. I paid his share of the rent for his apartment when we were living there together.

"And after a while, he just expected it. He would say, 'When I'm a doctor, you'll be driving a Porsche instead of that crappy little Cavalier.' But you know, he never got around to asking me to marry him."

"Did he cheat on you?"

"Not that I know of. But here's the straw that broke the camel's back. After all the shit I'd done for him, he said that if I really loved him, I wouldn't go to Europe so he wouldn't have to worry about me fucking all kind of guys, like after everything I did for him I'm just some kind of slut who screws guys just to have a good time."

Tears came to my eyes and my voice quivered.

"He said if I quit my job and went to Europe that I shouldn't bother calling him or e-mailing him or even send a post card to him. What chutzpah, I thought. That's Jewish for nerve. He was the one who was living off me, and he has the gall to tell me we're breaking up!"

I bowed my head and put my hand on my brow as I cried.

"Did you love him?"

"I don't know. I thought I did. It was good as long as he got what he wanted from me, but now I know the man I spent two years with is a selfish bastard."

I buried my face into Garth's chest as I wept, soaking his top with my tears.

"And now, this!" I added.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me getting jealous, because there ain't no other motherfuckers around here to be jealous of, are there!"

I broke into a smile as tears the tears continued to pour from my eyes.

"I know this is so fucking stupid, but it's comforting to know that I'm the only woman in your life."

"At least until its time to get out of this rat's nest."

"I just feel that as long as I'm good to you, nothing's going to happen to me."



Rebecca Ch. 04



CHAPTER FOUR-FIGHT AND FUCK

After eating our fill we drifted off to sleep, he on a threadbare sofa in the main room and me sitting on the floor, my back against the wall. Seeing that the sun was low in the west, I deduced that it was mid afternoon when I awoke to the sound of Garth retching.

My head throbbed and I felt like pulling my eyes out of their sockets. A victim of the hangover I predicted would result from drinking too much whiskey too fast in too short of a time; I was overcome by a wave of nausea. 

I stood up and instinctively placed my hand over my mouth to keep from having to wallow in my own filth in the squalid abode that was now my prison. I ran through the door, bypassing the pistol my captor had carelessly left on the table, and took my place next to Garth, who was kneeling on the ground next to the cabin, emptying the contents of his stomach onto a patch of grass.

I leaned over and puked on the grass, the bits of my tuna fish sandwich dwarfed by the amorphous puddle of partially digested food that my kidnapper had deposited a few inches away. The nausea and headache subsided momentarily and I was drenched with sweat as I righted my torso and took a few deep breaths.

Garth, startled by my presence, jumped up and felt around his waist before surveying me. Totally nude with my arms at my side, I had nothing to hide. With a sense of relief written on his countenance, he strode past me and went back into the cabin, soon emerging with the pistol in his right hand.

"Bitch, you probably just blew the best chance you'll ever get to kill me. You ain't ever gonna see me fuck up like this again," he snarled.

The reprieve from my hangover was over. The misery was back with a vengeance. And I was in no mood to be called a bitch. The prospect of death as a source of relief from my bi-yearly or so hangovers had in the past seemed an attractive option after a night of booze filled merriment, and was even more enticing that day.

I staggered over the rough ground to my enemy, unconcerned about the mode of my imminent demise. Looking him in the eye, I screamed, "Don't call me a bitch, you stupid motherfucker!"

I pounded on his muscular chest with my fists, the blows I landed ineffectual. It was as if I was striking a stone wall, but it felt good to be fighting back.

My captor didn't flinch. Instead, as I pounded on his chest, he broke out into evil laughter.

Tears streamed down my face. I could use all my strength and would accomplish nothing. He was right. I had blown perhaps the only chance I would ever have to end the nightmare I was living.

The futility of my attack now obvious, I stopped pummeling him and reached to the ground and grabbed a rock that was about the size of a baseball. Intending to use the stone to crush my tormentor's calvarium, with all my might I drove my right arm forward.

Before the rock got within a foot of his skull, Garth seized my right wrist. My hand involuntarily opened and the stone fell harmlessly to the ground as the flesh and tendons and bones of my wrist were crushed together in the vise that was his meaty hand. I then looked him in the eye again, managed a smile, and then expectorated a mixture of spittle and vomitus that splattered on his right cheek.

The right side of my face exploded in pain after the handle of the pistol landed on my cheek. He released my wrist and I stood motionless for an instant before falling in a heap to the ground.

I tried to muster the strength to get on my feet and run away, hoping I could conceal myself in the brush and avoid whatever awaited me at the hands of the beast who had imprisoned me here. But when I attempted to stand up, my legs would not support me and I again sank to the ground, striking the side of my head on a rock. Helpless, I let out a sob as another stream of tears ran down my cheeks. I pounded on the ground with my fists, my anger not only directed at the sadist who had brought me here but also at the One who had given me life.

Garth seized my right wrist and dragged me across the ground as my shrieks and sobs continued. The pebbles tore my skin and the rocks bruised my flesh.

When we stopped and he let go of my wrist, I sank my teeth in his leg. For this I was rewarded with a kick in the rib cage that muted my sobs for a moment. But as he dragged me to my feet I began screaming at the top of my voice.

He wrapped his right hand around my throat, stifling me. When he let go, he picked up a rusted tin can as I caught my breath. He placed the can on the top of my head and strode about ten paces back.

I felt like a bird mesmerized by the gaze of a snake as I watched him raise his pistol. It did not occur to me to run for my life as he squeezed the trigger.

The woods echoed with the blast from his gun and the can fell from my crown. I looked to the ground and saw the can had been pierced by the bullet.

Garth trod toward me, the pistol still raised and pointed at my forehead. I was frozen in fear, the bravado with which I had been overcome as I had pummeled him with my fists and spat in his face now a distant memory. The possibility that he would finish me off an instant after he had put an end to my acts of defiance had not occurred to me.

"Please, no, I'm sorry! Let me live!" I pleaded.

I watched his index finger flex as he pulled the trigger, the barrel of the gun inches away from my forehead. I did not duck or close my eyes. My illusion that I had a chance to survive now gone, I was ready for my life to end.

The roar from the pistol deafened me as the bullet whizzed above my head. I collapsed into my captors arms and barely heard him mutter, "The next round from this gun is going into your skull. You can call me a son of a bitch, a bastard, or even a cocksucker but don't ever fucking call me stupid again."

I sank to my knees, sobbing, still entrapped in my living hell but grateful to be alive. I heard Garth trudge away and hoped he would leave me alone to wallow in my misery, to cry in solitude. But after fading away, the sound of steps crushing the leaves and snapping the twigs on the ground resumed and grew louder. My tormentor was returning. I was too timid even to lift my head and regard his countenance.

Startled by crash of an object landing on the ground next to me, I turned my head to regard a spade lying next to me. I looked up at Garth. His face was lit up by a shit-eating grin.

"Find a spot where you'd like to be buried. It's time for you to dig your grave!"

"Dig the fucking hole yourself," I muttered, my eyes again downcast.

He squatted next to me and picked up my chin in his left hand, using his right hand to direct the barrel of his pistol to my forehead. He cocked the trigger.

"You have about five seconds more to live if you don't get on your feet and find a spot to dig that hole."

Part of me wanted it to end there, but certain after having been abandoned by whatever entity governed creation that the best for which I could hope was oblivion after the round in the chamber destroyed my frontal lobes, I played for time.

"OK, don't shoot." 

I raised my hands in the gesture of surrender and slowly assumed the erect position. I then reached down and grabbed the shovel and surveyed the area for my final resting place.

"You're gonna dig it nice and deep. I don't want no predators dining on your corpse. If it doesn't get its fill, it might try making me its next meal and I don't think you should be the cause of me having to kill some innocent bear or coyote."

"Promise me you won't kill me after I'm done digging. It won't be worth living a few more hours if I'm going to spend it digging a fucking hole in the heat."

He shoved me forward. I almost lost my balance and as I staggered, trying to keep from falling, all the bumps and bruises inflicted on me by my tormentor exploding in pain. I sobbed and sniffled as I strode toward a towering oak, in the shade of which I would have my eternal repose.

"Get to work, bitch! Oh I forgot you don't like to be called that. Sorry, bitch!"

"Rebecca would be a nice name to call me."

"You don't deserve a god damn name!"

I stood beneath the oak and regarded the cabin. It's ugliness was only a function of the blight put upon it by my captor. How nice it would look with a fresh stain and a new roof, I thought. 

I stuck the spade into the ground in a shady spot under a giant bough. I wondered how old the tree was. It certainly was older than me; maybe older than Garth and me combined.

"How's this?"

"I don't give a shit. Just dig the fucking hole!"

I pushed the spade into the ground and lifted a scoopful of earth, depositing it a few feet away. My head ached and I was overcome by another wave of nausea. I upchucked and my emesis splattered on the ground in front of me.

'Bitch can't hold her liquor!"

"Fuck you asshole!"

I stuck the spade into the ground, lifted another load of black soil, and tossed it aside. And then another and another. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and streamed down my face. I must have been a frightful site, my skin coated with a mixture of perspiration and earth.

After about an hour of digging, I had managed excavate enough soil so that my body would lie three feet below the surface after my captor chose to end my ordeal. My arm muscles ached. With every movement I winced in pain, raising the memory of each blow that Garth had dealt to me. 

"Please, please, I beg you, let me finish digging tomorrow! I can't go on!"

'I might just decide to off you tonight. And digging that hole looks like real fucking work. I'm sorry bitch, but I'm afraid you're gonna have to finish digging."

"Or what?" 

I threw the shovel onto the ground outside the hole and laid face down in my grave.

"Go ahead, shoot!" I demanded.

All was silent as I lie motionless. The birdsong that punctuated the still air would at least provide some solace as I faded into oblivion. I finally felt his beefy hand encircle my neck and he lifted me from the hole. I hung limply in his grip, too exhausted to even bear my own weight, hoping his grip would tighten and that I would lose consciousness forever as my brain was deprived of oxygen.

Instead without uttering a word, he scooped me up into his arms. After gasping for breath, my head fell limply back. The inverted vista of trees, hills, and the setting sun bobbed up and down as I was carried away to I did not know where.

He struggled to maintain his balance as the ground sloped downward. I cared not to where I was being taken, for it seemed most likely the destination was either oblivion or even worse, another level of hell. But thirsty as I was, my attention was piqued by the sound of rushing water.

The rushing turned to a roar. I finally mustered the effort to turn my head and saw that Garth was standing at the bottom of a waterfall. 

He laid me down gently at the bank of the river. I watched as he removed all of his clothing.

My gaze wandered to the torrent of water flow over a ledge fifty feet above our heads. The stream was at least twenty feet wide and the rock side was obscured from the vapors rising from the pool into which the torrent flowed.

"This is gonna be cold," my tormentor explained as he lifted me into his arms again.

"Please don't drown me. Put a round in my head if you have to," I pleaded.

"You should be so lucky either way. But I ain't done with you yet. Right now you're too disgusting for me to even think about fucking you. I got to get you cleaned up."

I heard splashing as he waded into the water. When my foot broke the surface of the frigid pool, I quickly lifted it up, gaining a brief reprieve from the icy bath I was about to endure. The water continued to deepen as Garth strode forward, and I screamed when my tuchus finally got wet. I then threw my arms around my tormentor's neck, gaining another reprieve from the chill, but he relentlessly waded deeper until we were immersed up to our shoulders. I scrunched up to my captor, craving the warmth from his body.

"I'm freezing," I whispered, my teeth chattering.

"The cold will take away your pain," he explained.

I broke out of his embrace and wrapped my legs around his hips. I planted my lips on his and we kissed passionately, the roar from the waterfall applauding the gesture of kindness the beast had bestowed on his captive.

He turned and waded toward the torrent of water flowing over the rocky ledge.

"No-o-o-o-o!" I screamed, knowing I was about to get a cold shower.

My plea went unheeded. A grin lit up Garth's face as a stream of mountain water flowed onto his bald pate. I winced as droplets splashed onto my face, and shut my eyes as he turned to give my scalp the same treatment.

"This is fucking awesome!" he exclaimed.

My body was numb below the shoulders, my host's prediction that the cold bath I was enduring would take away my pain having come true. We kissed again as the water beat down on us, and I broke away to float on my back in our private pool.

He tickled my feet and I righted myself, treading water as I splashed him in payback for the interruption of my bliss. I tried to escape as he paddled toward me, only to feel his meaty hand on my scalp before he dunked me, holding my head under water just long enough for me to know who was the boss.

He released his grip on my skull and, fearing that I had stoked his wrath, trepidation welled within me as I floated to the surface. Garth was nowhere in sight when I opened my eyes after my head broke the surface, but a second my shoulders were in his grasp. He spun me around like a toy and pressed his lips against mine. We kissed passionately as I wondered whether in his mind the lips he was kissing were mine or those of some lost or unrequited love.

He scooped me up into his arms and streams of water flowed off my mane and torso as he waded toward shore. I shivered in the breeze as he carried me to the hillside, and soon found myself on my feet, standing on a ledge, at eye level with my tormentor. The cold water having served as an anesthetic and now temporarily free of pain, I was invigorated by the fantasy that he had turned, that he saw me as a human being and not an enemy to be slaughtered.

I pressed my lips against his and he wrapped his arms around my torso. Hot to feel his cock inside me, I sandwiched his organ in my slit and grinded against him as our tongues battled each other's. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted my legs, straddling his hips.

His rigid member slid into my pussy and he effortlessly pleasured himself by sliding my pelvis up and down over his cock. As I my arousal built, I decided that I must have him in every one of my orifices before my climax.

"I want to suck your dick, and then I want you to cum up my ass, I whispered.

I sighed as he lifted me up and his cock slipped out of my wet pussy. Numb to the rough surface of the limestone ledge, I sank to my knees. With my right hand stroking his still rigid member, I looked into his eyes, smiling lasciviously, waiting for the beast who I was convinced that I had tamed to demand I take his cock into my mouth.

No words emanated from the creature who had me in his grasp, my life or death his whim. He clutched my throat with his meaty hand, exerting just enough force to close my airway. I tried to talk, but he squeezed my larynx even harder, forcing me to beg with my eyes for my life not to be extinguished before I could finish pleasuring him, not missing a stroke on his cock even as I became dizzy. I did not resist as he dragged my face to his crotch, and he released his hand from my throat as I opened up my mouth to engulf his tumescent cock.

My head bobbed up and down as my tongue slid over the shaft of the rod that I hoped would continue serving as the key to the chamber of ecstasy in which I would bask as I felt my captor's love. As I sucked his dick, I fantasized that an earthquake would sever our abode from the rest of the world and that the two of us would live off nature, free from the chaos of the world that had driven our two tribes to mutual enmity.

His fingers ran through my mane as his arousal built. My tongue lighted upon the spot beneath the meatus of his cock that when teased just right by a fellatrix's tongue sends the recipient into the rapture she alone can provide. 

Just before his orgasm became inevitable, I expelled him from my mouth. I pirouetted and bent over. My hands caught another limestone ledge on which I balanced, allowing me to thrust my butt at his crotch. He took the hint and I bit my lip as I absorbed his cock into my tender ass.

The pain turned into pleasure as he thrust into me over and over, gracious as I was to be alive and loved. I smiled as he spilled his juices inside me, convinced after receiving such exquisite pleasure, that my rapist would now forever be my lover and protector.

I felt the tumescence leave his member, both of us all fucked out. Kneeling before him, I licked my juices off his flaccid cock, and then stood up and embraced him, burying my head in his muscular chest.

We strode hand in hand back to the decrepit cabin, which I was intent on turning into a decent abode for us. The late afternoon sun shone into my eyes, and surprised my headache was gone, I decided someday to share the news with the world that lovemaking was an excellent cure for a hangover.

"Are you still going to throw my corpse into that hole tonight?" I asked as we passed the oak tree beneath which was my partially dug grave.

"It ain't deep enough yet," he answered, and I then knew, despite the respite, that my torment was far from over.