Archive for category sex
He mumbled words in his language under his breath. She believed that she was more afraid because he did not speak English, or appeared not to. If he didn’t understand her words, there was no way he could fully understand the pain he was causing her. Her face could express her feelings to an extent, but to Ala, words had a higher capability for haunting someone later on, when they were alone with their thoughts. Perhaps the man had agreed to this job because he didn’t have to listen to people beg for mercy. He couldn’t stand to make people suffer, so he felt relieved that he could not understand their words.
Ala felt a surge of strength spread through her veins when she realized that if he had the shallowest pool of compassion, she had a shot at negotiating with him. He removed one of her socks and she looked back to see that she had lost a shoe. She couldn’t remember when or how. It made sense to her now that she had been so cold during the night. He removed her remaining shoe and other sock.
All that she was left wearing was her white running bra and a pair of black panties. All of her skin prickled from the cold air and humiliation. She braced herself for him to touch her. He pulled her knotted hair that was piled on top of her head, toward him. She heard a snap of the scissors and watched as strands of her hair landed all around her.
He made more snips without any calculation and she heard her voice begin to scream inside the walls of her head.
“Please, stop,” she said.
The man laughed maniacally. Who was Emmanuel? He could be a cult leader or a spy or some boss of organized crime. He could be the devil, gaining her trust, testing her and punishing when she failed. She wondered if she really knew her parents or Gertrude, or even Jase. Danno was the one person she surely did not know, and still the only person she felt like herself with. She tried to focus on anything else, but the room’s wall and floor were white concrete and there was nothing to hear except the man breathing.
She looked back at the man, just as he lifted the wooden mask enough to expose his mouth. His purple tongue jutted out between rows of brown teeth. He was on his hands and knees. She turned back and stared at the wall. She felt the wet slime on the back of her thigh.
“Don’t do this,” she said, feeling the line trace down the back of her leg. She squirmed, but there was no way to shrink away, as her hands and feet were still bound. He lowered his head as his tongue reached her ankle. She heard the scissors snap again as he cut the rope around her feet. He pulled one foot away from the other, exposing her more.
He was not going to stop no matter what she said or how she cried. He lifted her leg slowly and placed her first two toes in his mouth. Her instinct was to laugh because she was so shamelessly ticklish, but she held it in. She brought her knee closer in to her body, not enough so that he would notice. She took a deep breath and kicked her foot deeper into his mouth. Her heel hit the wood and she heard a crack that she figured must have been his nose breaking.
The violence of the statement numbed her face. These people were serious. And there hadn’t been any mistake. She got the feeling that they had seen her before, and that she was not just a random pick up. Goosebumps sprang up all over her body. They could be from anywhere; they could be from the town she lived in. She clearly knew little about the neighborhood, since she wasn’t even aware that there was a group of swingers having their parties in her own house.
The van screeched and stopped. She pulled her ankles apart as hard as she could. The rope held tight and her outer thigh muscles burned with pressure. The back door opened and she shuffled to what she felt was the front of the van. A hand grabbed her ankles, pulling her back, forcing the sack against the skin on her face, leaving a trailing, searing rash. Another hand grabbed the rope that held her wrists together, and tugged her out of the vehicle.
Someone lifted her up and over a shoulder. She felt the bones digging into her ribcage and smelled perspiration. There were footsteps following behind her. Someone was making sure she didn’t get away. She heard another door or gate rattle open. She was then thrown so hard that her shoulder hit what felt like cement and she nearly lost consciousness. She struggled to keep her eyes open and take deep breaths to stay awake.
She heard a thud, a metal lock bolted, and footsteps on the gravel. An engine started and she heard the tires crunching the tiny rocks. Everyone had gone. She lay on her side, wrists and ankles still bound, with the sack over her face. All she could see was black and she could do was let herself finally cry.
She flexed and clenched her entire body, trying to wiggle out of the hands that were holding under her armpits and another set holding her feet. It did no good. The hands squeezed tighter, making her tired. She wanted so badly to rest but needed to keep fighting. No one was helping her. No one was out, most likely, because it was still so early in the morning. She thrashed her head back and forth, trying to see through the impenetrable cloth.
Both bodies that were carrying her halted. A fleeting moment allowed her to think that they had realized they had the wrong girl and that this was all a mistake. Sweat dripped into her eyes and the sack made her skin crawl with its itchy fibers. She heard metal sliding against metal, like a door was opening.
It was a vehicle door. She thought of the rules she was taught in the self-defense class she and Gertrude had taken at the library; never let them take you to a second location. She sprung with all her might and managed to kick one foot out of the fierce grip. Just then, a hard object smacked her across the face. She had never experienced such a dull pain that exploded into all of her senses. Her ears rung lowly and she wondered if her nose was misaligned, as she tasted blood running into the corners of her mouth. Whatever hit her was very heavy and she thought it might be a gun.
She felt rope wrapping around her ankles and hands at the same time. There were more than two people involved. The hands swung and heaved her body onto a hard metal floor. She landed on one knee and the agony made her fall face first. The door closed. Some strident notes rang out from what must have been the car radio. She couldn’t recognize the song but it sounded of Middle Eastern origin.
An engine started and rattled as they left the beach. She struggled to roll herself onto her back, but hand no success. The sharp turns made her slide face first into the corners under the seats. It took a lot of concentration not to scream. She knew it would waste her energy and worse, that no one would hear her. She wondered where they were going. They could have passed her parent’s house. Her parents, post coital from their block party, had no idea their daughter had been abducted.
She heard the familiar ringing of her phone. Her bag must have made it into the car. It must be Danno calling, saying that he had finished breakfast with Rainbow. It was time to talk about where they could run off to together. He would think that she was ignoring his phone call.
She flayed about the compartment, trying to get the sack off of her head again to be able to identify who was responsible. She felt the rope rub against the skin on her wrists, savagely scratching. She decided it was too soon to cry and, making that very decision meant that shock had set in. Still though, crying would make her more helpless.
“Please make the car stop,” she whispered. “Please let this be a mistake.”
“Shut up back there,” a low, crackling voice roared. She felt tiny hairs all over her body spring straight up. “I’ll cut off that pretty pink tongue and stuff it down your throat.”