Part 2
"Let's go already," Oswald growled, his voice growing more aggravated in the dark, "Daylight is coming and we won't have this opportunity for a good long while."
The cold night air stung my skin as I stumbled out of the car, the heels of my stilettos sinking into the soft dirt of the roadside. The leather cuffs around my ankles and knees had been unlocked, but the collar remained tight around my neck, the chain leash jerking me along like a dog. The forest loomed ahead, a wall of darkness that seemed to swallow the dim light from the car. The fear of the unknown was a living entity in my chest, beating in sync with my racing heart.
A close second was the humiliation that followed. Eight hours had passed since we left the city limits, the urban sprawl giving way to the eerie embrace of the countryside. The leather cuffs had chafed my skin raw, leaving behind a trail of pain and discomfort that I had learned to ignore. Oswald had finally pulled over on a deserted backroad, the headlights of the Benz piercing the veil of the surrounding forest.
"Mmm mmph," I moaned at Oswald who now stood next the treeline looking at me expectantly.
"Well?" He urged looking over his shoulder, his hand on the trunk of a tree.
Unable to gesture with my head due to the collar, I fidgeted awkwardly on the leaf-littered ground. My hands were still bound behind my back, so with a sense of embarrassment, I reached down with one hand to fiddle with the elastic band of my thong. The fabric was wedged uncomfortably into my butt crack and I knew without a doubt that I looked ridiculous. The gesture was clear enough though, and I hoped he'd understand.
"Ah, right." Oswald grunted, approaching me with an unpleasant grin. He reached down, his hands rough as he tugged at my thong, pulling it agonizingly slow until it was around my ankles. "Better?" he asked, the leer in his voice making me want to retch.
With as much dignity as I could muster, I nodded my head as best as the collar allowed and managed to shimmy my way out of the underwear. I stepped away, the cool night air kissing my bare skin as I crouched down, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible. The crunch of leaves and twigs beneath my knees seemed unbearably loud in the quiet of the night. The need to go was pressing and even knowing I was being watched, I couldn't hold it in any longer. The relief was immediate as I crouched and spread my legs wide so as not to soil myself further.
A tug on my leash brought my thoughts back to the present, the hard leather biting into my neck as Oswald yanked me to my feet. "Let's go," he grunted, his excitement palpable. I stepped back over to where my thong lay discarded and stepped into the legs holes. Looking up at him through tear-filled eyes, I silently pleaded for mercy, he rolled his eyes but stepped forward and bent down to help me pull the fabric back up my legs and over my butt.
I waited until Oswald's hands came to a resting position to strike. Eight long hours I'd bided my time, calculating my every move. I knew that the moment he least expected it, I had to make my escape. So as he ran his hands over the fabric of my after tucking it into place, I took the opportunity to knee him in the balls with all the strength I could muster. His face contorted in pain and his grip on the leash loosened just enough for me to twist free and sprint towards the road.
Unfortunately, I didn't make it more than a few steps before one of my heels sunk into the ground and I tripped landing face first in the dewey wet grass. I tried to tuck my knees under me as quickly as I could, but it was no use. Oswald was on me in an instant, his heavy weight pressing me into the earth. The smell of him was overwhelming, a mix of sweat, gasoline, and something else that made my stomach churn.
"You little bitch," he growled, his breath hot and foul on the back of my neck. He yanked the leash hard, pulling me up until I was on my knees. "You think you're clever, huh?" He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back so I was forced to look up at him. His eyes were dark with anger, the shadows from the car's headlights playing across his scarred face making him look like a creature from a horror movie.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of keys, the jingle echoing through the stillness of the night. "You're going to regret that," he spat, the leer in his voice sending a fresh wave of dread through me as he bent down and relocked the ankle and knee cuffs, tightening them even more, making me wince.
With a grunt, Oswald hoisted me over his shoulder, the leather of the cuffs cutting into my skin as he adjusted his grip. The chain attached to the collar rattled as it swung down, the cold metal links slapping against his chest with every step he took. Once I'd been tossed into the backseat of the Benz again, he took his sweet time buckling the seatbelt over me, the leather biting into my skin as he pulled it tight. I could feel his eyes on me, savoring the moment, enjoying my fear.
With my arms pinned uncomfortably between my back and the car seat, and my legs trapped by the cuffs, I was unable to move much. The car's engine roared to life, the vibration sending tremors through my already shaking body. Oswald's grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles white with rage. I knew I had to keep my head down, to play the submissive role until I could find another opening to escape.
We didn't make any more stops for the next four hours outside of a run down empty gas station, Oswald had stuck to the back roads so far, avoiding any main highways which meant no traffic cams or witnesses. When we finally did make a pit stop it was at some fast food restaurant in a small town. Oswald gave me a look that said "not a word" when we pulled up to the drive thru and pulled far enough ahead so that the attendant wouldn't see me.
I was about to take my chance anyway when the drive through window opened, only to stop short when I saw the silenced barrel of a gun pointed directly at me between the seats. My breath hitched in my throat as the smell of oil and metal filled the car, mixing with Oswald's foul breath. "You scream, and I'll blow your pretty little head off," he murmured as the attendant listed his order, the leer in his voice making me want to gag.
The drive-through attendant, blissfully unaware of the horror show happening in the car, took Oswald's money and handed him the bag of food with a cheery "have a nice day!"
My mind raced as the car pulled away from the window. The gun had been a shock, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he'd had it on him the entire trip. How close had I been to getting myself shot when I kneed him in the balls? My nerves were growing more frayed by the moment and the realization that my life might truly be out of my control was setting in.
My mind ran in circles, trying to piece together how my life had come to this and kept going over the events that had led to me being a bound, bruised and used object for David's amusement and now Oswald's transport. It was the car jerking to a stop in a deserted parking lot that broke my haze. The gravel crunched under the tires of the Benz, the sound echoing through the quiet morning like a gunshot in a library.
Oswald turned the engine off, and the silence was deafening. The smell of greasy breakfast filled the car, the scent of eggs and sausage making my stomach rumble in protest. He climbed out, the door slammed shut, and my heart raced. Would he leave me here? Would this be my chance?
My hopes were squashed when he opened the passenger door, folded the seat back and climbed in back to sit next to me, fast food bag in hand. I grew wary, as Oswald pulled the door shut and leaned back, his eyes never leaving my face. He reached into the bag and pulled out a greasy bagel, the smell of cheese and bacon wafting through the car. My stomach betrayed me, growling louder. It had been twelve agonizing hours since my last meal, and the smell was tantalizing torture.
I tensed as Oswald unbuckled my seatbelt, his calloused hands sliding across my bare skin as he pulled my legs onto his lap. His grip was firm, controlling, as he settled in for his meal. The smell of the greasy food was nauseating, but the growling in my stomach was torture. He took a bite of the bagel, the sound of his teeth tearing through the bread and the sizzle of bacon seemed to fill the small space of the car.
"You must be starving," he said, his voice low and mocking. He took another bite, his eyes never leaving mine. The smell of the food made my mouth water despite the fear that held me in its icy grip.
His hand began making long strokes up the outside of my thighs, the leather cuffs digging into my skin as I tensed at his touch. He took another bite of the bagel, chewing slowly, watching me with a sadistic amusement that made my stomach churn. The hunger that had been a distant ache was now a ravenous beast, demanding to be fed.
"Bet you're wishing you hadn't been so mean to me earlier," Oswald said with a sadistic grin, his eyes never leaving mine as he took the last bite of his bagel. The chewed food made his words slightly muffled, but the threat was clear. "Now, maybe when dinner time comes you'll be a little more cooperative, yeah?"
I couldn't hold back the sob that bubbled up in my throat, my eyes brimming with tears as I nodded solemnly.
"Glad to hear it, but just so you know I'm not a complete monster. I'm sure you're quite thirsty so if you promise not to scream I'll take your gag out so you can have a drink of water," Oswald said, his voice thick with smug satisfaction.
My eyes flew to his and I nodded vigorously, the hope of even a sip of water outweighing the fear of what might happen next. He leaned over, the smell of his stale breath assaulting my nose as he reached for the straps of my gag and yanked it down, the rubber ball sticking to my mouth briefly before releasing me with an audible pop.
Oswald chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine as he reached into the fast food bag and pulled out a small plastic bottle of water. Twisting the cap, he brought it to my mouth, the cool liquid spilling over my bottom lip and down my chin. I greedily opened my mouth, desperate to swallow, the feeling of water on my parched tongue like a sweet kiss of relief. His grip on the bottle was firm, controlling the flow, making me feel even more like a caged animal.
It wasn't long before I'd emptied the bottle, my throat burning with every swallow. Oswald took it away and set it aside, his eyes never leaving my face. "Good girl," he said, his voice a patronizing pat on the head. I felt a spark of anger flare within me, but I quickly stomped it down. Now was not the time for defiance.
"You know," Oswald began, his voice casual as if we were having a chat over coffee, "I've got to get some shut eye before we get going again."
Before I could even attempt to form words of protest, Oswald stuffed the rubber ball back into my mouth, securing the gag with a cruel twist of the leather straps. I whimpered around the gag, my eyes wide with fear. He ignored my muffled protests and spun me around, pulling my body flush against his, the leather of the collar digging into my neck. The heat from his body was stifling, and his scent washed over me in waves.
One of his hands lazily began to fondle my breast, his thumb brushing over the stiff peak of my nipple. I squirmed in his grasp, trying to pull away from his touch, but his hand was unyielding, his grip tightening as I struggled. The other hand slid down my side, his rough palm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. My heart was racing, my breath coming in panicked gasps around the gag as I realized what was happening.
"Settle down before you get me all excited," Oswald chuckled darkly, his hand still lazily fondling my breast. His other hand reached up to readjust my gag, the leather digging into my cheek as he made sure I was silenced. The fear had morphed into a cold anger that was quickly turning hot, my skin burning where he touched me. I eventually calmed, my breaths slow and deliberate, the gag making it difficult to draw in enough air.
I couldn't tell whether it had been an hour or an eternity before Oswald finally roused beneath me; what I was, however, was grateful, when he finally shuffled me off of his lap and got out of the car. The cramps in my legs had turned to a dull throb and the feeling of his hands on me had left a sticky, unwanted residue that clung to my skin like a second layer.
I watched as he stretched his arms above his head, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight against his muscles, revealing the tattoos that snaked across his skin. He was a large man, towering over me even when I wasn't bound and gagged. His movements were deliberate, almost graceful in their brutality, like a predator stretching before a hunt.
Oswald returned to the driver's seat, his eyes scanning the darkened parking lot with the ease of a creature that had made his living in the shadows. Looking over at me, he gave a sardonic smile that sent shivers down my spine. The leather creaked as he shifted his weight, the smell of his sweat and the greasy breakfast lingering in the air.
"Are you gonna behave or do I need to buckle you back in?" Oswald's voice was a low growl, the kind that sent shivers down my spine. I hunched my shoulders in submission, nodding my head as much as the collar allowed, silently begging him to leave me be. He studied me for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light of the car's dome lamp. Finally, with a grunt of what might have been satisfaction, he turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared back to life.
The journey ahead was long, and I knew I had to keep the blood flowing in my bound limbs to avoid the painful stiffness that threatened to set in. As Oswald pulled out of the parking lot and onto the deserted back roads, I began to subtly shift my weight, rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers. The leather cuffs dug into my skin, but the pain was a small price to pay for the precious mobility I was fighting to maintain. I focused on my breathing, deep and even, willing my body to relax despite the fear that coiled around me like a snake.
Flexing my toes was especially important given the extended amount of time my feet were encased in the high heels. The leather bit into the soft arch of my feet, and I could feel the beginnings of blisters forming. Every few minutes, I'd clench and unclench my fists, the leather cuffs chafing against my skin.
As the car ate away the miles, the tension in my jaw grew. The gag began irritating my jaw, the rubber ball pushing against my teeth and tongue, making it difficult to swallow. I knew if I didn't do something, I'd end up with lockjaw, a condition that would only make my situation worse. So, I began to flex my jaw muscles, opening and closing my mouth as wide as I could around the gag. The movement was slight, almost imperceptible to anyone watching, but it was enough to keep the muscles from seizing up.
The motion was painfully slow, but the stretches felt like a small victory against the restraints that held me captive. The leather of the gag stretched and creaked with every move, the sound seeming to echo in the quiet of the car. I could feel my jaw muscles protesting, tight and sore from the hours of clenching in fear and anger. But with every flex, the tension eased just a fraction, allowing me to keep a semblance of control over my own body.
Oswald drove on, his eyes never straying from the road ahead. The scenery outside the windows grew monotonous, the warm morning light giving way to the bright afternoon sun. I alternated between my silent exercises and brief moments of sleep, my body and mind desperately clinging to any semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. Each time I nodded off, it was a fight to jerk back to consciousness, the fear of missing an escape opportunity keeping me on edge.
Finally, around three in the afternoon, my exhaustion won out. My eyes grew heavy, and I couldn't fight the siren's call of sleep any longer. My head lolled back against the seat, and I allowed myself to drift away into a restless slumber filled with nightmares of David's cruel smile and the cold steel of the gun that had been pointed at me.
When I awoke, it was to the sudden silence of the car being put into park. The sun was halfway set, casting long shadows across the car's interior. Peering out through the window, I could see we were in front of a small, secluded cabin. The surrounding trees whispered in the cool evening breeze, their leaves painted in shades of orange and red by the setting sun.
"Enjoy your nap?" Came the gruff voice of Oswald as the car door opened and the cool evening air rushed in, sending a shiver down my spine.
I tried to sit up, my arms and legs protesting the sudden movement. The leather cuffs and collar had left their marks on my skin, but I was alive and that was all that mattered. The cabin looked like it hadn't been lived in for months, the paint peeling and the windows dusty, the surrounding woods seemed to have reclaimed it as their own.
Oswald leaned into the car, his hand folding the driver's seat down with a grunt, making room for him to pull me from the car. The leather of the collar was sticky against my neck from hours of sweating. With a jerk, he yanked on the leash, and I was forced to stand, wobbling on the stilettos that were now my only source of balance. The chill of the evening air hit me like a slap, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.
"Don't worry darlin, I've rented us a cozy little love nest," Oswald sneered as he pulled me out of the car, his grip on the leash tightening. The cabin looked far from cozy, more like a horror movie set with its peeling paint and eerie silence.
My legs wobbled in the stilettos as I took in the cabin, there was a sign with a number 28 barely visible through the overgrown foliage, confirming we were at a campground. But as I squinted into the distance, there was no sign of life, no other cabins, no campfires, no laughter. We had to be at the very edge of the property, as if purposely hidden from view. The isolation was suffocating, and the realization of my predicament crashed over me like a wave of cold dread.
In the car I didn't really have to worry about Oswald taking full advantage of me, but with the cabin in full view, my anxiety skyrocketed. What was going to happen to me here? Would he leave me bound and gagged all night? Would he spend the whole night ravishing me? Or would he just leave me in this state of constant fear and anticipation?
I was so caught up in my worries that I misjudged a hop and stumbled forward careening towards the ground. Just before impact, strong arms wrapped around my waist and hoisted me up. Oswald's chuckle was the only sound as he caught me, his grip unyielding, pulling me into a bridal carry. The leather of the posture collar dug into the back of my neck as he held me firmly against his chest, the smell of him mixing with the musty scent of the cabin.
He kicked the cabin door open with a boot, the wood groaning in protest. Inside was even more run down than outside, the floorboards creaking with each step he took. The light from the car's headlights spilled in, illuminating a small living area with a dusty couch and a TV that had seen better days. To the right was a kitchen that looked like it hadn't been touched since the '80s, and to the left was a hallway that led to what I assumed were the bedroom and bathroom.
"You know, I wondered why this cabin was so cheap. Now I know," Oswald said with a sneer, his eyes taking in the dilapidated state of the room as he carried me over the threshold. The dust motes danced in the beam of the headlights, and I could feel the grime coating everything, making me feel even more vulnerable and trapped.
He set me down with a thud onto the bed, the springs protesting the sudden weight. The mattress felt like a lumpy hammock of despair, and I had to fight the urge to retch as my stomach rolled. The smell of mildew and old bedbug spray filled my nose, and I had to concentrate on not letting my gag reflex take over. I watched with horror as he kicked the door shut with his boot, the sound echoing through the empty cabin.
He turned to me with a smug grin, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I think we're going to have some fun here," he said, his voice a gruff whisper, "First things first though, I need some sustenance." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a burner phone. "Pizza delivery, coming right up."
The mention of food was like a punch to the gut, the smell of the fast food from the morning a distant memory. I hadn't eaten since yesterday and my stomach was a ravenous beast that had been denied its meal. Normally, I'd never deign to eat something so low brow as pizza, but in my current state, I wouldn't hesitate if given the opportunity.
Oswald's smile grew wider at my reaction, the gleam in his eye telling me he knew exactly how desperate I was. He leaned in, his breath hot and foul on my face. "You want to eat, don't you?" He whispered, his hand tracing a line up my cheek and over the leather gag.
I nodded vigorously, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he had a shred of humanity left in him. But the way he looked at me, like a piece of meat he hadn't decided how to cook yet, told me that hope was a distant dream.
Oswald flipped his phone shut with a smug smile and turned to me. "Ready to earn your dinner?" He asked, his voice a low growl as he slid the zipper to his pants down. The reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks.
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded reluctantly, when I opened them again, Oswald's pants were around his ankles, his erection jutting out practically poking me in the eye. My stomach rolled at the sight of him, but hunger won over pride and I nodded again, silently begging for him to just get it over with.
With a triumphant grin, Oswald yanked the ball from my mouth, the sudden absence of the gag making me gasp for air. He wasted no time, pushing the head of his cock against my lips, the smell of his sweat and lust filling my nostrils. I knew what was expected of me and I complied, opening my mouth and taking him in, my teeth scraping the sensitive skin.
He groaned in pleasure, his hand tangling in my hair as he began to fuck my mouth. The salty taste of his precum coated my tongue, and I had to fight not to gag. It had been so long since I'd done this willingly, and the idea of doing it now, in this state, was almost too much to bear. But the thought of food, the sweet taste of victory, was all that kept me going.
My jaw began to ache, my eyes watering as he pushed deeper and deeper, his hand tightening painfully in my hair. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but I swallowed it down, focusing on the prize. Oswald's breath grew ragged, his grip on my hair tightening to the point of pain as he neared his climax. And just as I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled out, a string of saliva connecting us briefly before it snapped.
With a grunt, he pushed me back onto the bed, his weight coming down on top of me. I felt the leather cuffs dig into my arms and legs as he straddled me, his erection bobbing in the air. He grabbed my breasts with both hands, squeezing them together roughly.
"I'm going to love this," he murmured, his breath hot and heavy against my neck. I couldn't help but feel violated, my body trembling under his touch. The smell of his sweat mixed with the musty scent of the cabin, making me feel even more trapped and helpless.
Oswald's weight settled over me as he aligned his erection with my breasts. I could feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his cock pressing against me as he began to pump his hips, using my chest as a makeshift fuck toy. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the sight of him, the reality of the situation too much to bear.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a harsh whisper. I didn't dare disobey, my eyes flying open to meet his cold, calculating gaze. He smirked, enjoying the power he held over me. The smell of him was overwhelming, a mix of sweat, grease, and something else, something that made me want to retch. But I forced myself to keep my mouth closed, to keep from gagging, knowing that if I did, he'd only find another way to punish me.
With each pump of his hips, the leather of the cuffs grew tighter, cutting into my skin, reminding me of the pain that waited for me if I didn't perform to his satisfaction. He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear. "You're going to make me cum so hard," he breathed, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. I focused on the sound of his voice, the grunts and the wet slaps of his skin against my breasts, trying to block out the reality of what was happening. "Now, spit."
The sudden command had me confused for a moment before I realized he wanted me to lubricate his cock with my saliva. I complied, letting a trail of spit fall from my mouth, landing on the head of his cock. He groaned in appreciation, his grip on my breasts tightening even further. He slid his cock through the valley of my cleavage, the sensation making me want to gag, but I held back, knowing what was expected of me.
My eyes remained locked on his, searching for any hint of compassion or mercy, but all I found was a sadistic hunger that seemed to feed on my fear and discomfort. His eyes bore into me, his grin widening with each stroke. "That's it, you're doing so good," he murmured, his voice dripping with false praise.
And then, without warning, it was over. His body tensed, and with a grunt, he released his load, the sticky warmth of his cum spurting onto my face, a few drops landing in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, the taste of him coating my mouth and nose. It was a moment of pure, degrading humiliation, one that seemed to last an eternity.
"Fuck! I've been wanting to do that all day," Oswald panted, his weight still pressing down on me as he caught his breath. The sticky warmth of his cum trickled down my face. His eyes remained locked on mine, the hunger in them not sated. "Well congratulations, I'd say you earned your meal," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm as he climbed off me.
I rolled onto my side, the leather cuffs digging into my wrists and ankles as I buried my face in the comforter. The rough fabric was anything but comforting, but it was a small mercy to have something to wipe the sticky residue of Oswald's cum from my skin. I could feel it in my hair, on my cheeks, and the taste of it lingered in my mouth like a foul reminder of my newfound reality.
When I looked up again, Oswald was already sauntering towards the bathroom, leaving me a brief moment of respite. I took advantage of his absence, rolling onto my back and pushing myself into a sitting position, the leather cuffs straining against my skin. The room spun briefly as the blood rushed to my head, and I had to fight the urge to pass out. The cabin was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant howl of a lone coyote in the woods.
Taking in a deep breath, I forced my stiff muscles to cooperate as I went through the motions of my circulation exercises. My eyes darted around the cabin, trying to spot anything that could serve as a means of escape or a weapon. The living area was cluttered with old furniture that had seen better days, and the kitchen was a time capsule of ancient appliances. The floorboards creaked beneath me as I rested my heels on the floor.
From what I could see there was nothing that would allow me to slip the leather cuffs or overpower Oswald, at least not without alerting him to my intentions. So, I settled back onto the bed, the springs groaning beneath me, and resumed my subtle exercises. My eyes roved over the cabin's interior, noticing the dusty cobwebs in the corners and the faded wallpaper that peeled away from the plaster. The only light was from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a harsh glow that made the shadows dance.
Footsteps approached from the bathroom, and I quickly resumed my role as the obedient captive. Oswald emerged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and approached me with a damp towel. "Let's clean you up," he said, his tone mockingly tender. He wiped the residual cum from my face, the fabric cold and rough against my skin. I tried to keep my breathing even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
"There, much better," Oswald said as he shoved the rubber ball back into my mouth and tightened the leather strap, his movements quick and practiced. His eyes never left mine, a cruel glint in them as he enjoyed my humiliation. He tossed the towel aside and grabbed the leash, pulling me up from the bed and over to the ancient couch.
He sat down heavily, the cushions groaning beneath his weight as he yanked me onto his lap. The couch's springs poked into my side, adding a layer of discomfort to my already precarious situation. Oswald then grabbed the remote that lay abandoned on the coffee table, his thumbs moving over the buttons until the old TV flickered to life.
The fuzzy picture of a baseball game filled the screen, the crack of the bat and the murmur of the crowd providing a strange, mundane backdrop to our twisted game. His hand began to roam, starting at my thigh and moving up, his thumb grazing the hem of my push-up bra. Lucky for me Oswald's groping seemed to be more of a subconscious entertainment as he focused on the game, his eyes glued to the screen.
Before long, the distant sound of an engine grew louder, and the headlights of a car pierced through the cabin's dusty windows. A car door slammed, and a few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Oswald didn't even bother to hide me. He just left me sitting there, bound and gagged in my racy lingerie as he answered the door with a wad of cash in hand.
The pizza delivery guy's eyes widened when he saw me, his gaze lingering for a moment before snapping back to Oswald. They exchanged knowing smirks as if sharing a private joke at my expense. The guy handed over the pizza, and Oswald slapped a few crumpled bills into his hand. "Keep the change," he said, winking.
"You're a lucky bastard you know," the delivery guy said, his eyes ogling me as he handed over the pizza. Oswald chuckled, the crumpled bills still in his hand. "Oh, you have no idea," he replied, his voice thick with innuendo. The guy's leer sent a fresh wave of nausea through me, but I remained still, the gag in my mouth preventing any sound from escaping.
Oswald shut the door in his face, and I heard the crunch of gravel as the car drove away, leaving us in the quiet solitude of the cabin. He carried the pizza over to the couch, the cheese still bubbling and the crust crispy. The aroma of pepperoni and melted cheese filled the room, making my stomach rumble with hunger.
Oswald took a seat on the couch, the springs groaning under his weight. He picked up a slice, took a bite, and chewed with relish, watching me with a smug grin as he enjoyed the power play. After consuming a few more slices, his eyes flicked over to my bound body, his gaze lingering on my breasts that were pushed up by my bra. He leaned over me, the smell of grease and cheese heavy on his breath.
With a smirk, he unbuckled the leather strap holding the gag in place, the ball popping out with a wet sound. "Open wide," he said, his voice a gruff command as he held out a slice of pizza, the cheese stretching like a gluttonous smile between his thumb and forefinger. I did as I was told, my mouth opening obediently, the smell of the food making my stomach growl.
Oswald's eyes gleamed as he watched me, a sadistic pleasure in his gaze that made my skin crawl. He took his time, placing the pizza to my lips, the cheese was stringy and salty, the crust crunching in my ears as I took a bite, the taste of tomato sauce and grease exploding on my tongue. Low brow or not, it was the best thing I'd had in days, and my stomach practically purred in gratitude.
Two slices later, the pizza box sat empty on the coffee table, a greasy testament to our perverse dinner for two. Oswald tossed the last crust to the side and leaned back into the couch, his eyes never leaving me. I sat there, bound and exposed, feeling like a piece of meat waiting to be devoured.
"Well we've got a long day tomorrow, what do you say we get some shut-eye?" Oswald said, his hand sliding up my thigh, sending a shiver down my spine. "But first, let's get you ready for bed," he added with a malicious smile.
"Oswald, please I already sucked you ah-mmmph!" Once again, my protests were cut short by the rubber ball being shoved back into my mouth, the leather strap tightened around my head, forcing a whine from my throat. He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine as he stood up and pulled me to my wobbly feet.
I let out a strangled sob as I was dragged over to the bed, the leather cuffs cutting into my skin with each step. Oswald's grip was unyielding, his strength overwhelming as he tossed me onto the musty mattress. Then the bed dipped as he climbed onto the mattress behind me, it wasn't long before his clothes lay in a heap beside us, his warm, naked body pressing into my back.
The sound of foil ripping was a prelude to what I knew would come next. My stomach clenched in dread, the delicious taste of pizza suddenly turning sour in my mouth. I felt his hand on my hip, his erection pressing against my thigh, as he rolled a condom over his length. His other hand reached down, sliding my thong down my hips, the fabric settling on the cuffs attached to my knees.
I tried to squirm away, but his grip tightened, his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing gently but with a promise of pain if I didn't comply. "You know what happens if you struggle," he murmured, his breath hot in my ear, the threat sending a shiver down my spine. I nodded, tears welling in my eyes.
Oswald positioned himself at my entrance, his hand sliding between my legs to spread my cheeks apart. Despite the dryness and pain from the gag and my earlier ordeal, I felt wetness pooling between my legs, a traitorous response to the fear and anticipation. His cock nudged against my pussy, the latex a cold barrier that did nothing to reduce the feeling of invasion as he pushed inside me.
I bit down on the rubber ball in my mouth, trying to muffle my moan of protest as he filled me, his hand on my throat ensuring I couldn't scream. He didn't move at first, just held himself there, his cock buried deep, his breathing heavy and hot on the back of my neck. Then, with a sadistic chuckle, he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of my unwilling body.
"Oh yeah, you're so tight," Oswald groaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. His hand tightened around my neck, and I felt his cock swell inside me. Each thrust grew more forceful, the leather cuffs biting into my skin as I was pushed further into the mattress. The springs protested beneath us, adding a rhythmic squeak to the symphony of his grunts and the squelch of latex against skin.
I focused on the TV, the baseball game long forgotten, and stared at the flickering light, my mind racing with thoughts of escape and revenge. The fear was still there, but a spark of anger began to burn within me. This wasn't the end. This was just another twisted chapter in a story that I would rewrite. Two years with David hadn't broken me and neither would this monster.
So even as Oswald's thrust grew to a frenzy, and his breath hitched in his throat, I found myself plotting. The anger in me grew with every grunt he let out, with every time his body slapped into mine. The more he enjoyed his power over me, the more I hated him, the more I wanted to see him brought low.
And then, the unthinkable happened. He pulled out of me, the cold night air hitting my exposed pussy like a slap. I felt his hand between my legs, his fingers probing, and then the blunt head of his cock at my asshole. I froze, my eyes going wide with horror as I realized what he intended.
Oswald chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine as he lined himself up. "You're going to love this," he murmured, the promise in his voice anything but comforting. And with that, he pushed inside, the pain making me scream against the gag. It was a violation like no other, my body recoiling at the unnatural intrusion.
My eyes watered as he inched in, the pressure unbearable. He didn't stop, didn't even slow down, just kept pushing until he was fully seated in my ass, his hips flush with my cheeks. The pain was so intense that it overwhelmed all other sensation, leaving me unable to do anything but sob into the rubber ball.
Oswald's grunts grew louder, his thrusts growing more erratic as he fucked my ass with a brutal enthusiasm. Each push was a new wave of agony that had me seeing stars, each pull out a sweet release that was immediately followed by another punishing push. I could feel my body fighting against him, my muscles trying to clench and expel the intrusion, but his hand on my throat kept me pinned, my body open to his depraved whims.
My eyes squeezed shut, I sobbed into the gag, the rubber ball pressing against the back of my throat, muffling my screams. This was not passion, it was pure, unbridled power, and I was the powerless plaything at its mercy. The leather cuffs dug into my skin as I thrashed, trying to escape the relentless pounding.
And then, the horror grew. A strange sensation began to build within me, a heat that started in the pit of my stomach and radiated outwards, pooling in my core. It was as if my body was betraying me, responding to the very act that was being forced upon me. Oswald's grunts grew louder, his thrusts more erratic, and suddenly, he stiffened, his cum flooding the condom with a wet warmth that brought no satisfaction, only disgust and revulsion.
But it didn't end there. To my absolute horror, my own body began to respond, an orgasm building against my will. It was a twisted, perverse parody of pleasure, a mockery of the intimacy that I had once known. It washed over me like a tidal wave of agony and despair, my muscles clenching around his cock, my body shuddering with the effort to escape the reality of what was happening.
When it was over, I lay there, panting and shaking, the tears streaming down my face, mixing with the drool from the gag. The room spun around me, and the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Oswald's ragged breathing, the weight of his body on top of me, his cock still embedded in my ass. I didn't dare move, not wanting to acknowledge what had just transpired, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had elicited any response from me other than pain.
Sobs racked my body as the last tremor of the unwanted orgasm subsided. The sticky mess of Oswald's cum and my own juices made my skin crawl, a reminder of the betrayal my body had just committed. I lay there, my eyes squeezed shut, willing the reality of what had just happened to be a nightmare. But the ache in my throat from the gag and the sting in my ass were all too real.
Oswald's breathing evened out, his body going slack against mine. The hand that had been around my throat now curled around my shoulder, pulling me closer. It was a perverse display of affection that made bile rise in my throat. But I knew the drill. I had to survive. I had to keep him satisfied. So, I took a deep, shaky breath and willed my body to stillness.
My eyes remained squeezed shut as he whispered, "Good girl," in my ear, his breath hot and smelling faintly of the pizza we'd shared. The weight of his arm grew heavier, and I could feel his heartbeat slowing to a steady thump against my back. The cabin was quiet again, the only sound the drone of the TV.
Not wanting to risk another round of his twisted games, I focused on the rhythm of Oswald's breathing, willing myself to fall asleep. His arm remained wrapped around me, his hand idly stroking my skin in a way that was more possessive than comforting. The TV's flickering light cast shadows across the room, the muted sounds of the game lulling me into a state of semi-consciousness.
As the hours ticked by, the pain and humiliation grew duller, replaced by a numbing weariness that weighed on my eyelids. Despite my racing thoughts and the sting of tears that had long since dried on my face, my body succumbed to exhaustion. The mattress beneath me was unyielding and the leather cuffs dug into my skin, but I found myself slipping into a fitful doze, my mind desperate to escape the horrors of the present and whatever horror would come tomorrow.
***
"Schnuuuuuh"
"Schnuuuuuh"
"Schnuuuuuh ugh schnuuuuuh"
My eyes snap open to the darkness of early morning, the snapping of a particularly loud snore piercing the silence. It takes me a moment to realize that the snoring isn't just part of my nightmare but the all-too-real sound of Oswald. The pressure around my stomach is gone, and I feel the coolness of the night air kiss my bare skin. Cautiously, I turn my head and see him lying on his back, one arm flung over his face, his chest rising and falling with deep, untroubled breaths.
The leather cuffs around my legs and arms are still tight, but the weight of his arm is no longer holding me in place. With trembling muscles, I start to inch my way to the edge of the bed, each movement deliberate and painfully slow. This was my chance and the last thing I want is to wake him and have him realize what I'm about to attempt. The springs groan with each tiny shift of my weight, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to stir.
When he didn't move, I continued my painstaking escape, my muscles protesting against the uncomfortable leather restraints as I wormed my way closer to the edge of the bed. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drumline warning of my impending doom. Slowly I maneuvered my legs over the side, feeling the aged wooden floor beneath my heels.
Looking around in the dim light, I spotted Oswald's discarded clothes on the floor, a small beacon of hope in the sea of my despair. With trembling fingers, I lowered myself down from the bed, my bound hands making the task a precarious dance. My stomach muscles screamed in protest as I bent over, the leather cuffs digging into my skin. The cold wood floor sent a jolt through my body, jolting me out of my numbness.
I reached for his pants, feeling the coarse fabric of the pocket with my fingertips. Inside, a small metal object brushed against my knuckles, and my heart skipped a beat. A key. It had to be the key. With a silent prayer, I extracted it, feeling the cold metal between my fingers. It was smaller than I expected, but it was the size of the padlocks on my cuffs.
Choosing the path of least resistance I reached down to my ankles, my bound hands shaking with the anticipation of freedom. The cold metal of the key was slick with sweat, but I managed to align it with the first padlock, the sound of it unlocking was music to my ears. With trembling fingers, I worked the key into the second lock, feeling the tension in the room ease with every click.
The first two done, I began working on the cuffs around my knees. The key was slippery in my sweat-dampened hands, and the metal of the padlocks cold against my skin. My breaths were shallow and quick, fearful that Oswald would wake at any moment. But he remained a motionless mound in the bed, oblivious to my quiet rebellion. With trembling hands, I managed to fit the key into the lock and twist it, the satisfying click of the mechanism releasing its hold.
Once the fourth padlock was taken care of I carefully laid the key down on the floor and started undoing the buckles on my ankle cuffs. Slowly, I freed my left foot, then my right, feeling the sweet relief of freedom for the first time in what felt like an eternity. With a silent sigh, I brought my legs together, feeling the leather pull away from my skin as I did so. The cuffs had been tight, leaving red, angry marks where they had been, but I ignored the pain, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Setting the cuffs down next to the key and padlocks, I reached for the cuffs keeping my knees together. Each buckle felt like a victory as I unclipped them with shaking hands. Setting the last pair aside silently I stretched my legs out in front of me, feeling the coolness of the floorboards beneath my feet. The freedom was delicious after being forced to keep my legs together for so long.
Now wasn't the time for celebration, I reminded myself, as I reached down for the key with trembling fingers. I brought it up to the padlocks on the buckles of my wrist cuffs, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. I had to be careful. One wrong move could wake Oswald, and then all hope of escape would be lost.
Bending my wrist backwards, I tried to get a better angle, my breaths coming in short gasps. The padlocks were stubborn, refusing to move as I tried to position the key. My heart was racing, the sound of my own blood thundering in my ears as I worked in the near silence of the cabin. The snoring grew louder, and I paused, holding my breath, waiting for a sign that Oswald had woken. But he remained oblivious, a testament to his deep sleep or perhaps a cruel joke played by fate.
I kept at it, trying and trying and only growing more frantic with each failed attempt. Panic began to set in, my heart racing faster than ever. I knew I had to be quick, but the locks remained unyielding. Each failed attempt brought with it a fresh wave of despair, and the weight of my failure threatened to crush me.
Finally I stopped and with my free hand felt for the locks, it was then I realized that they were cross-linked, a cruel twist of design that had eluded me in the dark. A wave of panic washed over me as I realized no matter which way I tried to insert the key, it was useless. The padlocks sat snugly in place, unmovable and mocking me with their silence. My breaths grew shallower, and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest.
'Think, think, you may not be able to use your arms, but at least now you can move,' I told myself, trying to keep the panic at bay. With shaking hands, I took a deep breath and placed the key down on the floor. I needed a new plan.
The cabin was eerie in the early morning light, the shadows playing tricks on my eyes. I scanned the room, my eyes darting from corner to corner, looking at my options. The front door was out of the question, the deadbolt was too high for me to reach, even if I managed to get the door open, the noise would surely wake the monster in the bed.
I spotted the bathroom door a few feet away, and an idea began to form in my desperate mind. The window. It was small, but if I could somehow slide it open, it might offer me a way out. Carefully, I planted my heels flat on the floor and gripped the comforter of the bed to use as leverage. With a grunt, I pulled myself upright, the leather cuffs biting into my skin as I maneuvered my body into a standing position.
Step by agonizingly slow step, I made my way across the floor, testing the wood beneath me for any creaks or groans before putting my full weight on it. The last thing I needed was to alert Oswald to my escape attempt after getting so far. The open bathroom door loomed before me, a symbol of potential freedom.
Making my way inside the small, cramped bathroom, the smell of mildew and stale urine assaulted my nostrils. The room was bathed in a murky light that seeped through the grimy, cobwebbed window. The cold porcelain of the toilet tank felt like a lifeline as I leaned against it for support, my legs shaking with the effort of staying upright. I took a deep, shaky breath, steeling myself for the next part of my escape.
With a grimace, I positioned my back against the window, feeling the cold glass against my skin. I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out as I pushed up with my forearms. The window was old, the wood around it swollen and unyielding, but I had to get out. Slowly, with a protesting screech that seemed to echo through the cabin, it began to move, inch by painful inch.
I held my breath as I pushed against the window, the cold glass pressing into my skin. The ancient frame groaned in protest, but with each determined shove, it inched upward. The metal tracks felt sticky with dust and grime, resisting my efforts, but my desperation was stronger than any rust. The room grew brighter as the gap grew wider, the promise of escape taunting me through the crack.
Once the window was high enough, I paused, my ears straining to detect any sound from the bedroom. The only noises were the persistent snores of Oswald and the distant hoot of an owl. The quiet was reassuring, a balm to my frayed nerves. I knew I had to act quickly.
With a deep breath, I propped my hands on the windowsill, feeling the rough wood dig into my palms. The leather cuffs around my wrists dug into my skin as I pushed, the metal links of the handcuffs cold and unforgiving against my flesh. The window was wide enough for my hips, but tight. I paused for a moment, my heart racing with the thrill of potential escape and the fear of failure.
Taking a deep breath I heaved myself up onto the windowsill, the cold metal of the frame bit into my bottom as I balanced precariously. Careful not to bang my heels against the wood, I swung my legs out into the crisp morning air. The chill outside sent goosebumps racing over my skin, this was it, the moment of truth.
My stomach lurched as I looked down at the four-foot drop to the ground. In the dim light, the dirt looked like a distant memory of solidity, a promise of escape that was both terrifying and exhilarating. I knew I had to land just right or risk injury that could put an end to my bid for freedom before it even began.
I looked down at my shoes, it was a gamble not to try and remove them, but they might be my only protection from the unforgiving terrain outside. I took a deep breath and pushed off the windowsill, my stomach dropping as gravity took over. The cool leather of the cuffs bit into my skin as I braced for the impact.
The fall was shorter than I anticipated, and I landed with a thud, the spikes of my heels sinking into the soft earth by just an inch. I let out a sigh of relief, my legs wobbling slightly from the effort of balancing on the precarious stilettos. The ground was wet with dew, and I could feel the coldness seep through the leather, but the adrenaline pumping through my body kept the chill at bay.
Turning, I took in the view of the cabin from the outside. It was smaller than I had realized, looking more like a dilapidated shack than a place of refuge. The sun was just beginning to peek over the treeline, casting a golden hue over the dense forest that surrounded us. The light barely pierced the canopy above, leaving the underbrush in shadow. The quiet was eerie, only broken by the distant sound of an owl retreating to its daytime roost.
My heart racing I made my way from the back of the cabin, the dew-covered grass slick against my out of place footwear. The dense forest loomed on all sides save for a gravel path leading away from the cabin. The sound of my heels against the stone was like a gunshot in the quiet of the early morning, echoing through the trees, taunting me with every step.
Not wasting any time I took off down the gravel path, the rocks crunching under my heels as I quickened my pace. Each step sent a sharp pain through my ankles, but the fear of being caught spurred me on. I had to find help, had to get to civilization. The path was uneven, and with my hands bound behind my back, my balance was compromised, but I had to keep moving.
The path ended at a much neater well maintained gravel road. Looking down the road, I could see several different paths branching off, each most likely leading to another cabin. The sight of them brought a flicker of hope to my chest. Perhaps someone was around who could help me. But as I peered down the road, I couldn't spot a single soul or car, I'd have to go cabin to cabin and hope for the best.
Choosing the path to the left, I began to hobble along the road, each step sending a fresh wave of pain through my bruised and sore feet. Pushing through the pain, I focused on the horizon, willing myself to find salvation. The path grew more overgrown with each step, the trees closing in around me, casting eerie shadows across the ground.
The quiet was unnerving, and every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves sent my heart racing. Was it a wild animal? Or was Oswald already onto me? I knew I had to be fast, but the fear of what could be waiting for me out here was almost paralyzing. With each step, I told myself that I was one step closer to freedom, one step closer to leaving this hellish place behind me.
Finally, a cabin appeared through the trees. Its windows were dark, and the driveway was empty, my heart sank. Knowing there'd be no help here, I turned on my heel and began to hobble back towards the main gravel road. Each step back towards the cabin felt like a step deeper into hell, but I had to keep moving, had to find someone, anyone, who could help.
The next path was no better, nor was the one after that and I grew increasingly desperate with each cabin I found abandoned. The sun was rising higher, and the light grew brighter, but the warmth was lost in the dense foliage. The only comfort was the occasional breeze that whispered through the trees, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth.
Just as the first hints of despair began to take root, a miracle pierced the silence. The distant rumble of an engine grew louder, the sound of civilization approaching. Hope blossomed in my chest, sending a jolt of energy through my tired body. I had to get their attention. I stumbled back to the main road, ignoring the pain in my feet, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot replaced by the rhythmic chant in my mind, 'Please stop, please stop, please stop.'
I came to a skittering halt as I reached the main road and a wave of unbridled fear gripped me as I spotted my Mercedes come to a grinding halt twenty yards away. The driver's side door swung open with Oswald emerging from the vehicle, his eyes wild with rage. My heart hammered against my ribcage like a caged animal desperate to break free.
'No, no, no!' I screamed internally as I turned to run, my legs moving on instinct alone. The gravel road spun beneath me, my heels slipping and sliding as I desperately tried to find traction. Loud stomping footsteps grew closer and closer, the sound of Oswald's fury echoing through the trees.
My heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest as I sprinted, my barely-covered breasts bouncing with each step. The leather cuffs around my wrists and elbows slapped against my skin, the metal links clanking with every stride. My breaths were ragged and painful, but the fear of what would happen if he caught me kept me moving. I could hear his breaths growing closer, his grunts of exertion spurring me on.
In a moment of sheer terror, I felt a powerful hand wrap around my waist, jerking me backward and up. I let out a muffled scream, a sound that was cut off abruptly by a hand clamping over my mouth. Oswald's hot, rancid breath washed over my face, his eyes burning with a rage that sent a shiver down my spine. He held me tightly against his hip as I kicked fruitlessly into the morning air.
Despair filled me like never before as we reached the car. In one swift, brutal motion, Oswald's fist slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me gasping for breath. He tossed me into the air and I landed with a thud inside the cold, dark confines of the trunk, the same trunk where the leather cuffs that had bound me now lay discarded.
I moaned against the pain as the familiar feeling of leather slid around my ankles and knees.. His hands were rough, his grip unforgiving as he secured the cuffs tightly, pulling my legs together once again. Each click of the padlocks was a dagger to my soul, and my eyes squeezed shut, tears of frustration and fear leaking down my cheeks, mingling with the dirt and sweat.
"Ya know I thought I was being pretty nice given the circumstances, hot food, a good fuck, but after this stunt…" Oswald grumbled as he pulled my ankles back and locked them to my wrist, "Enjoy your day in the trunk!" With that, he slammed the lid shut, the finality of it echoing through my soul.
The sound of spinning tires and crunching gravel grew as the car began to move, sending vibrations through the metal cocoon of the trunk. The smell of gasoline and earth filled my nostrils as I lay there, bound tighter than ever, hogtied and helpless. The realization that that had probably been my last chance at escape was a knife twisting in my gut.
I spent the first couple hours sobbing uncontrollably as I bounced around in the cramped space. The pain from my bruised stomach and the tight leather digging into my skin was a constant, grim reminder of my failure. The darkness was suffocating, only broken by the brake lights that would briefly illuminate the trunk each time the car stopped, casting a crimson glow on the metal around me.
I'm unsure when it happened, but the world around me grew hazy, my thoughts a jumbled mess. The pain from my stomach and the relentless pounding of the leather against my skin grew distant. Time stretched out like a piece of warm taffy, each second feeling like an eternity as the car jolted and bumped along the road. And then, without warning we hit a pothole so big it felt like the world had opened up to swallow us whole.
The impact was like a hammer to the side of my head, and everything went dark. When I came to, my cheek was pressed against the cold, unforgiving metal of the trunk, my head swimming with stars. The world outside was a cacophony of sounds, muffled and distant. The car had stopped, and I was alone with my thoughts and fears. Worst of all was the heat, the trunk now felt like a sauna, the sun beating down on the metal turning it into a torture chamber.
My long blonde hair was plastered to my face, the sweat stinging my eyes and making it hard to see. My breaths were shallow and pained, my body begging for water. With my tongue still pinned underneath the rubber ball I was unable to lick my dry cracked lips. Each breath felt like I was inhaling shards of glass.
The heat in the trunk was unbearable, and the smell of metal, gasoline, and fear filled the air. It was like being buried alive in a metal tomb, the heat from the sun outside seeping through the metal and cooking me from the inside out. I could feel the sweat trickling down my spine, pooling in the small of my back, and soaking into the leather cuffs around my arms and legs.
With a herculean effort, I strained to lift my head, the muscles in my neck screaming in protest. The sound of crunching gravel under tires grew closer, and then stopped right beside the car. I held my breath, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Was this it? Had we arrived at our destination? Or was it just a pit stop?
A car door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the metal trunk like a gunshot. The engine was cut off, and silence fell like a shroud over me, the only sound my own labored breathing. And then, the sweetest sound I had ever heard. The trunk popped open, and light and fresh but dry heated air flooded in, dissipating the stale, suffocating heat that had been my prison for hours.
"Oh shit." Came Oswald's panicked voice as he took in the sweat-soaked and bruised mess that was me. His eyes grew wide with shock, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he had a shred of humanity left after all. But that hope was quickly dashed as his expression shifted from concern to frustration.
Dropping my head back down I watched from the corner of my eye as Oswald glanced around frantically, as if the very trees themselves might bear witness to his actions. With a grunt, he reached into the trunk, his hands grasping my arms, and pulled me out of my metal tomb. The sudden movement sent waves of pain shooting through my bruised body, and I couldn't help but whimper as he hoisted me over his shoulder.
As I came to a rest over Oswald's broad shoulder, my eyes blurred with the sudden influx of light. The scenery had changed dramatically, and my heart sank as I realized we weren't just in a different location but a completely different world. The dense forest had been replaced by a sea of sand and gravel, stretching out towards the horizon. The only oasis in this desolate landscape was the truck stop, a sad collection of gas pumps, a convenience store, and a motel surrounded by the towering behemoths of the road: semi-trucks. Their silent vigil cast long shadows over the desolate parking lot of which we were parked at the very back, hidden from prying eyes.
The evening sun had painted the sky a canvas of fiery reds and oranges, the last vestiges of daylight clinging to the horizon. Oswald's grunts of effort were the only sound that pierced the heavy silence as he carried me to the back of a sleek black sedan with windows so dark they swallowed the light. Wonderful sweet cool air greeted me as he opened the door and I felt the leather of the backseat against my bare skin as I was surprisingly gently laid down.
As the door slammed shut, the car's air conditioning hit me like a wave of heaven. I took in deep breaths, my face softening with relief, the cool air soothing my baked skin. The car's interior was sharply different from the metal hell I had just left, the leather seats cold and the air fresh with the faint scent of leather and new car. It was a blissful contrast to the stale, hot metal of the trunk.
My peaceful reprieve from the heat was shattered by the opening of the car door opposite me. Oswald's bulky frame filled the doorway for a moment, blocking the fading sunlight, before he slid into the seat. He threw a concerned glance in my direction, his expression a blend of regret and irritation. I kept my eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness, biding my time, and listening to the cues of his movements.
With surprising gentleness, he reached over and lifted my head, the leather collar digging into my neck as he removed the rubber ball gag. My mouth was dry as a desert, my tongue thick and uncooperative. A cold plastic straw was forced between my cracked lips, the sudden coolness of water greeting my parched throat like a lover's kiss. On instinct, I began to suck, the liquid heaven sending a jolt through my body as it hit my system.
Oswald's eyes never left mine, watching my every reaction as I greedily drank, "You know," he murmured as I gulped down the water, "a fancy car like yours should have had AC circulating through the trunk." His words hung in the air, a strange blend of apology and annoyance.
I flinched when I felt his fingers graze the bump on my head, his touch gentle despite the circumstances. The pain was a reminder of the blow I had taken, and my eyes fluttered shut as a moan of agony slipped past my parched lips. He paused, the water bottle hovering in the air, his expression morphing into one of genuine concern, "What's this?"
Ignoring the pain, I croaked out "Pothole," and leaned forward, my eyes never leaving his as I wrapped my lips around the straw once more, eagerly drinking down the life-giving liquid. He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before he turned his attention to the road.
"Well, it's your own darn fault for trying to escape," Oswald said gruffly, but his eyes remained soft with a hint of something else I couldn't quite place. Was it pity? Concern? It was hard to tell with the man who had so expertly helped turn my life into a waking nightmare.
"Do I need to put the gag back?" Oswald's question hung in the air like a storm cloud. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm, "No," I murmured, the cold water a soothing balm to my parched throat. "Good," he said, his tone returning to normal as he tucked the bottle into a plastic bag, "We're almost there."
As he stepped out of the car, I took stock of my condition. My body was a roadmap of tender flesh, the leather cuffs had left deep grooves in my skin, and my feet were a swollen mess of pain. Each breath was a battle against my sweaty lingerie, and I was acutely aware of the sticky warmth between my legs, a testament to the violation I had endured. The realization of my weakened state was like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling hollow and defeated.
I closed my eyes knowing the risks of falling back into the abyss of unconsciousness with a possible concussion, but the siren's call of oblivion was too strong. The world had become a haze of pain and fear, and for a brief moment, sleep offered a sweet reprieve from the horror that was my reality.
So as I felt the sedan shift into drive I let a lone tear slip from my eye, tracing a line down my cheek before dropping to the seat. The rhythmic lull of the tires against the road was a sadistic lullaby, and my eyes grew heavy with the weight of exhaustion and defeat. Despite my best efforts, the darkness claimed me once again, pulling me under into the sweet oblivion of sleep.