Dark Passions: Dark Romance Boxed Set, page 40
Rose had been holding her breath and she exhaled in relief when Fat Boy grabbed the remote for the television and turned it on. That was the last thing she’d been expecting. She’d thought he was going to start hurting her. Now it seemed all he wanted to do was watch television. It was weird.
But her instincts told her not to let her guard down. She hoped that Fat Boy was going to watch TV all night, but she knew enough not to let that hope get too high.
“What do you want to watch?” he said as he flicked through the channels from his seat in the corner.
“Anything,” she said.
“I like nature shows. You mind if we watch something like that.”
“Whatever you like.”
Fat Boy flicked to the nature channel. There was a documentary about grizzly bears and he sat back in his seat and lit another cigarette. “This is perfect,” he said. “This is my favorite show.”
Rose didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. What was going on? She watched as the grizzly bears wandered the forests, foraged for food, mated.
“Of course, we don’t get them like that up here. All we get is black bears,” Fat Boy said.
“No,” Rose said, keeping one eye on the television and one eye on Fat Boy.
“You’ve got to go out west to get a real bear like that. Those boys would eat our bears for breakfast.”
Rose nodded. He was looking at her as he talked.
“They don’t frighten me though. I’ve been out in British Colombia and Alaska. I’ve seen grizzlies.”
There was something strange about the way Fat Boy was talking. He wasn’t just making casual conversation. She knew that. He was edgy, tense, maybe even a little crazy. She was scared.
“Is that right?” she said.
“I’ve come this close to one,” Fat Boy continued, stretching out his arms to show her how close he’d come to a grizzly. “Face to face.”
“What did you do?”
“I just stared him down,” Fat Boy said. “He come up to me and stopped dead, not three feet from me. He saw something that only animals can see. He saw me for what I really was.”
There was something sinister about the way he was talking. It was almost as if he was reliving the memory.
“What’s that?” she said, already afraid of what the answer would be.
“He saw that I wasn’t a man at all, but a monster.”
Rose let out a little cry. She hadn’t meant to, but there was something deeply disturbing about the way he was talking. She was so vulnerable. He could do anything to her, even kill her if he wanted to. She didn’t want to hear him talking like this.
“I had a .375 Ruger and I raised it up and pointed it right in his face.”
“And pulled the trigger,” Rose said.
“That’s right, little lady,” Fat Boy said and nodded.
There was definitely something wrong with Fat Boy. He didn’t talk like a normal person. Everything about him was edgy and irrational. It seemed to Rose like anything could happen. She was so uneasy that she was shaking in fear in the bed as Fat Boy continued his rambling.
“That bear didn’t know what hit him,” Fat Boy said. “He just roared out.” With that, Fat Boy let out a roar of his own. He leaned forward in his chair and roared like a bear. He actually looked like a bear. He had thick, strong limbs covered in dark hair. She could see how hairy his chest was through the open buttons on his shirt. He had a beard. He was dirty. He was the type of man that people would describe as looking like a bear.
He stopped roaring and then burst out laughing.
“Minute later and he fell down dead.”
“That’s terrible,” Rose said.
She didn’t know what he wanted to hear but she knew he was expecting her to react to the story.
“Terrible for that bear,” Fat Boy said and continued laughing.
Rose didn’t see what was so funny but she let out a half-hearted laugh of her own. She wasn’t enjoying talking with Fat Boy but it was a lot better than the alternative. She’d talk to him all night if it would mean he wouldn’t lay his horrible, hairy hands on her.
He got up from the chair and went over to the grocery bag. He’d forgotten that he’d already drank the last of the beer.
“Damn,” he said. “I should have brought more over. Or maybe I shouldn’t have made you drink so much,” he said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Rose said.
“Oh well, I have my reasons, little miss,” he said and sat back down on the chair.
That worried Rose. What possible reasons could he have for getting her to drink a few beers?
XII
It wasn’t long till she found out. About two hours had passed since Fat Boy had forced Rose to drink those beers. He’d been sitting, watching the television and she was lying there, naked, tied to the bed. She tried to watch the television too, it was a way of getting her mind off the situation, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything. Fat Boy chain-smoked and flicked the channel so much that anytime she started to get lost in a story, he’d switch it.
And gradually she noticed that she needed to pee. At first she tried to ignore it but drinking all that beer had filled her bladder and there was no way she could ignore it forever. She didn’t want to say anything to Fat Boy, she didn’t know if he’d let her use the washroom or not, and things were going well, she felt. He seemed to be engrossed in the television and hadn’t been paying her much attention at all.
She felt it would be crazy to disrupt that situation, to remind Fat Boy that she was right there, naked, so she held her pee for as long as she could. After another thirty minutes or so it started to become unbearable.
Fat Boy had put on some mindless, low budget movie about a secret agent who had to blow up a Soviet army base. He was distracted. He wasn’t thinking about her. He wasn’t harming her. And she had to go and do the one thing that she didn’t want to do. She had to get his attention.
“Hey,” she said, squirming in discomfort on the bed. She really needed to go.
“What is it?”
“I really could use the washroom.”
And there it was, that same evil sneer she’d seen on his face earlier when he’d forced her to drink the beers.
“Of course you do, sweetheart. You drank all my beer. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Please untie me,” she said, “so I can use the washroom.”
Fat Boy looked at her. His eyes ran slowly from her face, down over her body, before coming to rest on her vagina. She was in pain, she had to go so bad. She was trying to cross her legs but it was impossible because of the way she was tied.
“Maybe you can pee after this movie,” he said, sneering at her. “I don’t want to miss it.”
Rose nodded. She knew she was in trouble. How was she going to make it to the end of the movie? It was only halfway through. And that awful look on Fat Boy’s face? What had that meant? And then she realized, he’d intended for this exact situation to arise. This was the reason he’d forced her to drink all that beer. He’d wanted her to suffer like this.
She vowed that she wouldn’t mention it again, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how well his plan was working, but as soon as there was a commercial break, she begged him again to let her use the toilet.
“Please don’t do this to me, just untie me for two minutes and then I’ll be back on the bed where you want me.”
“I said you could go after the movie,” Fat Boy said, smiling. He was enjoying the situation immensely.
Rose gritted her teeth but there was nothing she could do. Maybe that was the game. If she could make it to end of the movie he’d let her use the toilet. If not, he’d let her soil herself. He was a cruel man, a brute animal, and she hated him.
The commercials seemed to go on forever, and then, when the movie finally came back on, Rose thought she wasn’t going to make it. The movie seemed to go on and on and finally, when it seemed like it was drawing close to a conclusion, it broke again for another set of commercials.
By now her bladder was burning. She was in agony. She was dying to pee, or even just to release some of the urine in her bladder but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t wet herself in front of him. It was too demeaning. It was the ultimate humiliation. She even thought that if there was one thing more humiliating than what he’d done to her on that very first night, it was this.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she said when more commercials came on.
“Now, now,” Fat Boy said. “I said you could pee after the movie. Don’t make me get angry with you.”
Making him angry was the last thing she wanted to do. She was his captive, his prisoner. He could do anything to her. But she needed to empty her bladder and she just couldn’t wait any longer. She relaxed her bladder ever so slightly and felt the warm sensation of pee flowing through her, but immediately she stopped before releasing any urine. She just couldn’t do it, not with him sitting there looking at her like that.
The last part of the movie seemed to take forever. When Rose finally saw the credits roll in she almost cried. She’d never been so relieved to see the end of a movie in all her life.
“Now,” she said, “untie me, quickly.”
She felt ready to burst. Her bladder was burning. All of her muscles in that area were as taut and tense as possible. She wasn’t even sure if she’d make it to the washroom from the bed.
“Please, hurry,” she said.
Fat Boy got up from his seat and it seemed like he was moving excruciatingly slowly.
“Hurry, please,” she said again. She was desperate.
But when Fat Boy came over to her he didn’t untie her at all. Instead he opened the zipper of his jeans and took out his hard, swollen cock. He looked really horny, really aroused, and Rose lost all hope.
She started to sob.
“Please, you said I could use the washroom after your movie.”
“Ah, ah,” Fat Boy said, wagging a finger in front of her as of she was a child. “I said you could pee after the movie.”
“So untie me so I can pee.”
“I don’t need to untie you. Pee where you are.”
XIII
Rose looked up at Fat Boy. She couldn’t believe he was actually doing this to her. It was torture.
“Please don’t make me do this,” she said.
His face was firm and stern. He didn’t react. He just looked at her with a cold, unpitying gaze. He was slowly stroking his penis while he stood there, looking down at her.
“No,” she said. “I won’t do it.”
Fat Boy laughed. “You won’t? We’ll see.”
He got up onto the end of the bed and sat on it. He was by her feet, his eyes moving slowly over every part of her naked body. It made her skin crawl. His gaze made her feel as if horrible insects were running all over her. She tried to look away but she couldn’t. All she could do was look into his horrible face. It was a face she would always remember. Years later, when she would see Fat Boy, she would remember everything he’d done to her. Maybe one day she would even be able to make him pay for this.
He was sitting between her wide-open legs, looking at her pussy and stroking his cock. He put a finger in his mouth and then touched her clit. Rose almost cried when he did it.
“No,” she cried. “Please.”
But it was too late. The sensation of Fat Boy gently rubbing her clit with his wet finger was too much. She tried to hold her muscles as tightly shut as she could but she could feel them releasing.
“That’s it, bitch,” Fat Boy said.
Rose looked up at him and felt tears welling up in her eyes. How had her life brought her to this point? How was God letting this happen to her?
“Come on,” Fat Boy said and began stroking her clit more rapidly.
Slowly, very slowly, almost too slowly to even notice, Rose’s bladder began to leak. She couldn’t believe it was happening. It was a surreal moment, even more surreal than everything else that she’d been forced to go through during the past few days. It was that very moment that she realized that everything that was happening to her was real. This was her life now. It wasn’t some game someone was playing with her. It wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t going to go away. It was really the world she was in and it was never going to end. This was going to be her life forever and ever.
“That’s it,” Fat Boy said as a gentle stream of urine poured out of her. He had his finger on her clit still and he moved it down to her vagina and inserted it.
Rose was crying. She felt so utterly humiliated, so utterly worthless. Her pee was getting all over Fat Boy’s hand, making a mess of the bed, and getting on her thighs and butt too. She looked at Fat Boy and saw that he was leering at her with the hungriest, most lustful face she had ever seen. Once she’d started to pee she just couldn’t stop. The warm liquid flowed onto her butt and thighs and it was almost a comforting feeling. The warmth of it almost felt good.
When she finally finished peeing she began to sob. Fat Boy had such a calm expression on his face, almost as if he’d just orgasmed.
“That’s my good girl,” he said. “That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?”
Rose couldn’t speak. She just let the tears fall down her face silently. She felt disgusting. She was covered in urine. The bed was soaked in it. She looked over at the bathroom door. Why couldn’t he have let her go in there? It was such a small thing, being allowed to pee in a toilet, privately, and now that she’d been deprived of it she realized how important such a simple liberty was. It was impossible to have dignity and respect without it.
She pulled against the cords that bound her to the bed but there was no slack in them and she only succeeded in aggravating the cuts around her ankles and wrists.
“Calm down,” Fat Boy said. “You’re not going anywhere for a while.”
He still had his finger in her vagina and he started to slide it in and out of her.
“No,” she said, “please stop. Please stop. Please.”
But it was almost as if the more she protested, the more pleasure he got out of it. He slid his finger in and out, reaching as far in as he could. She didn’t know what was wrong with him? He was horrible. Why did he want to finger a girl who’d just peed all over herself? It was disgusting.
But from the look on his face it was clear he was getting pleasure from it. He was fingering her with one hand and stroking his own penis with the other. Rose felt horrible. She was covered in pee. It was a disgusting feeling. All dignity was lost, all respect. Everything about the situation was perfectly calculated to be as degrading and humiliating as possible.
Fat Boy was rubbing his cock, sliding his palm over the bulbous head of his penis, bringing himself close to orgasm. He was fingering Rose harder and harder and it was everything she could do just to stop herself from screaming. She tried to dissociate herself from the experience. She told herself that it would all be over soon. If she could just keep her mind away from what Fat Boy was doing to her, if she could just keep herself separate from the experience, it would come to an end by itself.
Fat Boy was breathing harder and harder and he got up on his knees and leaned over her. He stopped fingering her, which was a relief. He was right over her, on his knees, holding himself up with one hand while rubbing his cock with the other.
Then he gasped, right in her face, and at the same moment, she felt the squirt of his jizz shoot out of his cock and land on her leg. She wanted to shut her eyes but for some reason she couldn’t. She just stared into Fat Boy’s awful face, the throes of orgasm spread all over it. He squirted again and another string of jizz landed on her and began to slowly slide down the inside of her thigh. It felt slimy and sticky and disgusting.
“Fuck, yeah,” Fat Boy sighed as he finished his orgasm.
Rose lay there, utterly in shock. She was lying in her own urine, in a soaking wet bed, with Fat Boy’s slimy semen sliding down her thigh. She’d stopped crying at some point and was now just staring up at the ceiling, the fan blades continuing in their incessant circular paths above her like the stars of the night sky.
She wanted to scream but she felt as if her throat was blocked. Emotion and pain and sadness had a hold of her chest and throat and prevented her from making any sound. She just lay there in silence as Fat Boy dozed in his chair. She didn’t know if she slept or not but at some point in that endless night the light of the dawn began to rise up in the east and flood into the room through its single window.
XIV
When Fat Boy woke up in the morning he looked like a man who’d slept in a chair. He was disheveled and unwashed. His stubble looked even more scraggly and rough than it had the night before. Rose wouldn’t have thought he could have looked any messier than he had the night before but he did. He stretched in the chair and then stood.
He looked down at Rose. She was wide awake, still in shock because of what he’d done to her the night before, and she just stared at him. The smell of urine coming from the bed was overpowering and revolting.
For some reason, he looked away. Rose wasn’t sure if he was ashamed of what he’d done, or just disgusted at the sight of her. She’d been lying in her own urine for the entire night, completely tied up. His jizz had slowly dripped down off her leg during the night and added itself to the stains on the bedsheets.
Rose felt that she was so disgusting that not even Fat Boy could look at her. She wondered if she’d ever be able to recover from this feeling. Would she ever be able to feel clean and beautiful again? Would she ever be able to get the stink of urine and semen from her body? Would she ever again feel the way she had before she’d been taken?
She didn’t know.
“Untie me,” she said to Fat Boy.
She surprised herself. She hadn’t known she was able to speak. Fat Boy looked at her as if determining whether or not to do as she’d asked. Surely he couldn’t just leave her like this. He may be a fully patched member of the DRMC but he wasn’t the chapter president and he couldn’t do something like this to club property and expect to get away with it. She wasn’t his property, she was the club’s property. It was his job to guard her not cover her in semen and urine and leave her ruined so that no other man would want to touch her.
