THE TORTURED (8 page)

As Ryan spoke, Dana closed her eyes and listened.

And she prayed.

CHAPTER NINE

THOUGHTS OF DYING.

NINE.
“So, what the fuck are we gonna do little miss know it all?” Elena said as she stood over Meghan, who was seated beside Shellie on the bench.

Meghan had spent the majority of the previous night comforting and preparing Dana for her
departure
. Describing it as a departure made it more reasonable, more realistic, and less permanent than calling it anything else. Meghan now dressed in sweats and a tank top like the other women, sat with Shellie, hoping that nothing bad had actually happened
to Dana.
Although she had no basis for this belief, her considering it made everything Ryan was doing seem plausible.

“I don’t fucking know. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t think he’d take Dana. I felt like it would never come down to that. I don’t know.
I just don’t fucking know
,” Meghan complained.

“Well, if we don’t have a plan, this is gonna get really shitty really quick,” Elena sat down on the bench beside Shellie and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“Like it’s not
already
shitty,” Meghan slowly stood from the bench and placed her hands on her hips.

“Dana’s gone. It’s bad already,” Shellie said as she rotated her hand and looked at what little was left of her fingernails.

“This crazy fuck. We have to try to kill him when he comes back. We
have
to. We don’t have an option,” Elena said as she stood from the bench and faced Meghan.

“How?” Meghan asked.

“Well, fuck. I don’t know. Let’s talk about it,” Elena paused.

“When he had me in the basement talking to me, he had a Tazer. He didn’t have a gun. He had it and handcuffs. He’s strong, but he can’t overpower three of us,” Elena said as she looked down at Shellie.

“Well, two. Two of us. She ain’t got much to offer,” Elena motioned toward Shellie who continued to nibble at her fingernails as the two women spoke.

“Ok, so when he opens the door, what do we do?” Meghan looked at the door as she spoke.

“The door pushes
into
the room. There’s a handle outside, in the basement, not an inside handle. We can’t grab it and pull it. We have to just try to overpower him, or we all rush the door? What are you thinking?” Meghan asked as she began walking toward the door.

“Well, when he opens it, when we hear it click, two of us could be right there, and be ready for his ass. And just take off running. Fuck I don’t know,” Elena said.

“If we do that, what could go wrong?” Meghan asked as she positioned herself by the side of the door that opened.

“I guess, if he pulls it open slowly, and sees us - he just pulls it shut and leaves us here forever to die. That’s what his crazy ass would do. So, we have to be on the side of the door that he can’t see,” Meghan reasoned as she stood beside the door.

“That doesn’t do us any good. Because then we gotta get to the opening, and he’ll just see us whenever we try and move over there,” Elena began to appear frustrated, walked over to the far side of the room, and stared at the door. As she crossed her arms and stared, she shook her head.

For Elena to allow herself to be taken into the other room, tortured, killed or even released, was going to be a chore for anyone, and Meghan could see and sense it. Elena had become far more tense since Dana had left, and she was outwardly showing it. When the time came for Ryan to come and take Elena from the room, he was certainly going to have his hands full. As Elena started cussing in Spanish and staring at the door, Meghan began to wonder what problems Elena’s demeanor could cause if she irritated Ryan.

Meghan believed that she had heard a car leave the garage thirty minutes after Ryan had taken Dana out of the room. That would be roughly the amount of time it would have taken Ryan to kill Dana, prepare the body for transportation, load it, and leave the premises from what Meghan could figure. The other women complained at Meghan’s request for confirmation of what she had heard, claiming that they heard nothing.

“What if
this.
What if, when he takes Shellie to the door, we’re back here,” Meghan pointed to the benches beside her, behind where the door swung when opened.

“Where we were before, when he got Dana,” she walked in the direction that she was pointing.

“We haven’t decided if
I
was next,” Shellie said softly without looking up from her fingernail gnawing.

“Well, when he comes to the door, he will ask her to turn around. She’s slow at everything she does, and she can turn
really
slow, taking a little extra time. He’ll become frustrated at her, but not at us. As he waits for her, we rush the door, and yank it open. Whoever gets to the door, the other one will, with Shellie’s help, overpower Ryan. How’s that sound?” Meghan asked as she faced Elena, who still stood along the far wall.

“It sounds like we’re trying to plan putting up a volley ball net for a fucking beer party. What if this thing goes to shit? We’re fucked.
El Mero Chingon
comes in, and we’re just fucked,” Elena shook her head and complained.

“You know. We can do all this planning we want, and this fuckers gonna make it impossible to do it just by one little change in how he opens the door or how he does something. Then, we’re sitting here stupid. And dead. Fuck this
puto.
I want to choke him or dig his eyes out when I’m in the other room. When he takes me to kill me, I’m gonna head butt that fucking
pendejo.
Maybe, when he takes me, I’ll kick him in his fucking
cajones,”
Elena was obviously becoming very frustrated as the time approached for Ryan to come pick up his next victim.

Meghan, as she began walking through the room and attempting to devise a plan of escape, began to consider seducing Ryan if the opportunity presented itself. She was convinced, from the moment she sat in the trunk and made eye contact with him, that he was attracted to her. Her discussions with the other women, although she had not outwardly spoken of her thoughts and feelings, had invited the other women to discuss their feelings. She had no information volunteered to lead her to believe that any of the other women had either an opportunity or an indication that Ryan was in the least bit attracted to them.

Meghan stood between the entrance door and where Elena was standing as she thought of Ryan, “Let me just think for a while,” Meghan said softly as she walked to the bench and sat down.

Generally speaking, Meghan believed she was a very good judge of a person, their thoughts, and what they were feeling. Ryan may be psychotic, or he may simply be very calculating, planning, and compulsive. She wasn’t able to know for sure. She believed, based on what she knew about people in general, that he was attracted to her. Ultimately, would that mean that she could convince him to act on his feelings? She couldn’t decide. She did know if she didn’t try, she’d never accomplish it. Exhausted from lack of sleep, she leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and thought of Ryan and his very handsome appearance when he opened the trunk of the car. As her eyes closed, and she began to relax, she slumped to the floor.

As Ryan opened the trunk lid, Meghan sat up in the large open trunk. Sore from the trip, she shrugged her shoulders and looked up into his steel blue eyes. Ryan looked down and smiled a slow smile. Meghan was surprised by his masculine features and soft boyish skin. His average height was overshadowed by his strong muscular appearance. Even though he wore slacks and a dress shirt, his muscular build was apparent through his shirt as it clung to his pectoral muscles.

Meghan wanted him to remove the tape from her mouth. As he reached into the trunk, she itched for his touch.

“I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth. Do you hear me you cute little bitch?” Ryan asked.

Uncomfortably aroused, she knew nothing more than to nod her head. She was already wet from her thoughts as they had driven, and now – looking at Ryan made it much worse. As she shifted the weight on her hips in the trunk, she felt the depth of her wetness between her legs. Embarrassed, she looked down and then immediately back up at Ryan.

She nodded eagerly.

He reached into to the trunk and pulled the tape from her mouth quickly. Eagerly, she began to speak.

“What are you going to do to me?” Meghan cooed.

“My name’s Ryan Capshaw, and I’ll do whatever I fucking want, Meghan. You know why?” Ryan asked as he rubbed the palms of his hands up and down the length of his thighs.

“No?” she breathed, wondering how he knew her name.

“Because you’re mine. I own your little ass from here on out. I took you from your meaningless life, and now you belong to me,” Ryan bragged.

“Sit up straight,” he demanded.

She sat up straight in the trunk, pushing her breasts toward him as he spoke. He appeared to notice her efforts, and glanced in the direction of her breasts as they heaved forward. As he focused on her chest, she raised her cuffed hands behind her back, straining her shoulders, and forcing her breasts even further toward him.

“Your boobs are bigger than the other girls,” he stated as he stepped closer toward the trunk, leaning down and in her direction.

She was so close that could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke. She wasn’t familiar of the scent that he wore, but she knew from this day forward, she would never forget it. He placed his right hand on her neck and squeezed lightly.

“I’m going to lift you out of this trunk, Meghan. I’m not going to have any trouble from you, am I?” he asked as he squeezed her neck with a little more force.

Her mouth opened, and an almost inaudible ‘no’ escaped as Ryan leaned forward, his waist now within inches of her face.

She felt his free hand reach to her breast. Naturally, she pulled away from his grasp.

“What the fuck are you doing, Meghan? Don’t resist me, do not ever resist me, do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered as he squeezed her breast through her shirt.

Meghan felt herself become even more aroused as Ryan fondled her breasts. He reached down with his right hand and lifted the front of her shirt, exposing her bra. As he tried to lift if further, he became frustrated that her handcuffs prevented the removal of the shirt from her torso. Aggravated, he growled under his breath and removed a knife from the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t move. I don’t want to cut you. Yet,” he said as he used the knife to slice the shirt that he had bunched into his grasp.

As he tossed the shirt in the trunk, he folded the knife and placed it back into his slacks pocket. His right hand now reached back to her throat, squeezing it firmly as he pulled her bra up, exposing her breasts.

“Hold still, Meghan,” he said as he unbuckled his belt and removed his slacks.

As his slacks fell to the floor of the garage, he removed his shoes and kicked his slacks a few feet beside where he stood. Now standing before her in stark white boxer briefs, the muscles in his legs flared as he repositioned where he stood. The bulge in his briefs provided reassurance that he was very well endowed.

Sitting upright in the trunk of the car, her shirt cut in two and on the floor of the trunk, Meghan yearned for Ryan to touch her. Five years without a husband, mate, or any form of sexual contact had left Meghan with a burning desire for what she believed that Ryan offered her. As Ryan pressed his briefs with his thumbs, pushing them past his now hard cock, she shifted in the trunk and leaned forward in anticipation.

“Open your mouth,” Ryan demanded as he dropped his briefs in the pile of clothes beside the car.

Without hesitation, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, waiting for his cock to be forced deep into her mouth.

“Open, Meghan. Your eyes will be open,” Ryan demanded.

“Yes sir,” Meghan responded as she opened her mouth in waiting.

Her hands cuffed behind her back and helpless, Meghan leaned forward with an open mouth. Ryan stood before her, naked from the waist down, stroking his cock slowly. As the anticipation mounted, she watched him stroke his cock to a full erection. As he leaned toward the edge of the trunk, she leaned toward his waist, hoping to feel his cock throbbing in her mouth. His hands reached for her breasts, pushed up by the bra beneath them, and began to squeeze.

As he squeezed her breasts in his strong hands, the tip of his cock was within a fraction of an inch of her lips. He leaned back and began to moan. As his moans became louder and more pronounced she licked her lips and leaned toward his cock, taking the thick shaft into her wet mouth.

“That’s a good little bitch. Now suck that cock like you’ll be killed if you don’t,” Ryan demanded.

She leaned forward, her hands still cuffed behind her back, and slid her mouth up and down the shaft of his swollen cock, feeling the tip against her throat as she tried to force more and more of it into her mouth. Ultimately, she wanted him to be pleased with her performance, and tell her so. If he chose not to speak, so be it.

As she sucked his cock, he moaned repeatedly as he arched his back, forcing even more of his cock into her mouth. Circling the head with her tongue, he growled lightly under his breath as he squeezed her breasts harder. She wanted him to cum - cum in her mouth, all over her tits, or even on her face, she thought. But, if he would cover her in his cum, he would certainly be pleased with her performance.