Freeing Lana Page 11

  He had heard the name Lana, and as he sat there glued to the broadcast, desperately hoping to hear the name again, the name he dared not mention himself, he held his breath, hoping it wasn’t unthinkable news. But he hadn’t heard Lana at all it seemed, and after the broadcast he quickly changed channels to see if he could catch more of what was happening. The crew at KJTL was running a bit slower than their competition today, and he was able to catch the breaking news in its entirety. There was no mention of the name whose mere mention that still weakened him, only a story about a shooting in Atlanta. His subconscious had somehow pulled Lana out of Atlanta. Get a grip, Sergio, he told himself. He found the remote and the television screen went black, as the welcomed silence again surrounded him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lana Martin lay across the table sobbing. Her pants were still at her ankles and her legs still felt light, distant aftershocks from the orgasm, but any joy from the experience had left her the moment she heard the front door close behind Tink. Oh God, what did I do! Her knees hit the carpet as she allowed herself to fall from the table, but they didn’t support her and she continued downward until she was lying on her side.

  The stickiness between her legs served only as reminder of her betrayal, and she hated herself for it. She knew Tink’s hands all too well, as well as any other part of his body she could mention. While the man fucking her as hard as she wanted only moments ago had been the right man, the one she had run to in her weakness, while it was happening, while her body was convulsing with the sweetest of lustful impulses, it had been someone else she was thinking about.

  Seconds before she had thanked Tink for his touch, she could have swore she heard another man tell her to say it, and he had been the voice of that one she had answered, though she hated him with a hate that came from deep within her. She couldn’t for the life of her – or even her sanity – figure out why his voice was so seductive in her head.

  Time passed torturously slow with her curled up on the floor, and for a time she thought she might never find the strength to get up again. But as anyone who has ever felt guilt can tell you, time has no meaning in moments such as these, and when she did finally manage to get up from the floor, she found it had been closer to an hour rather than the days it felt like. She kicked off her shoes and sent the pants to the couch with the kick of one leg. She would dress later, but for now, she needed a shower.

  Moments later, the hot water mercifully flowed over her body as she tried to make sense of the day. She had destroyed the letter with the prison’s return address on it the day it had come in the mail, though it had been later, after she had read it more times than she could remember. That one simple line had been laced with more poisonous undertones than if it had been as long as a Stephen King novel.

  She wanted to tell herself she didn’t know why she had gone to the prison, but it would have been a lie. She knew perfectly well why she had gone. She had been unable to look at him during the trial, but now she wanted to see his face, to see what that kind of monster would look like. Only he hadn’t looked like a monster, and even dressed in the orange jumpsuit, he had held her attention in a commanding manner before he had even spoken her name.

  She stood in the shower long after she had turned off the water, her hands supporting her weight as she leaned against the tile wall in front of her. It had been a mistake, a big fucking mistake to go see him today. And while the guilt begged her to tell Tink what she had done, she knew she wouldn’t. It would be better to forget it ever happened, and telling him would do nothing but hurt him, especially when he realized she had called him from the prison parking lot in desperate need of a good hard fucking.

  Lana didn’t want to hurt anyone else; the look in Sergio’s eyes the last time they had been together had crushed her. He had been brave and acted strong, but she saw the pain she had caused, and she didn’t want to see that look in Tink’s eyes too. No, her weakness was for her to endure, not to saddle anyone else with, and with that resolve she stepped out of the shower and went about the task of preparing Tink’s dinner. It would be ready when he walked through the door and it would be served by a naked, apologetic Lana, one willing to be reprimanded for interrupting his day. And if there was a just god to be found in all of this, then Tink would be harsher than normal, and would unknowingly punish her for the things he didn’t know about as well.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lori arrived promptly at the time she had been instructed to find Sergio waiting for her in the bedroom. As she walked through the open door, he saw she was wearing sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt, and if he was right there would be nothing underneath. That was as it should be since she was not here to chat or dance the night away; she was here for his pleasure only, and his pleasure demanded she be naked as soon as possible.

  She didn’t disappoint him in that and as soon as she had closed the bedroom door, she took off the only two articles of clothing she had been wearing. Before him now stood a voluptuous brunette, with remarkably ample breasts and a cleanly shaven pussy. She really was a remarkable looking woman, and the low light of the two candles highlighted her curves perfectly as the shadows caused by the flickering light caused her silhouette to dance on the walls around him.

  He hadn’t asked her to shave, but he had made an offhand comment, wondering out loud if she ever had taken a razor to that special place. Apparently she took that as a preference and had gone about the task willingly enough. If points were being rewarded, she would have gained some for that, but Sergio wasn’t handing out points this night or any other; he wasn’t handing out anything for that matter. His days of putting the need of others before his own were largely decisively over.

  None of the other women he had recently met had given him any hope of happiness, or at the least contentment, but Lori had been different. He had recognized it in her from the very beginning. While the others had boasted they did not need a safe word – this was their lifestyle, they claimed, they were there to serve, the nastier the better – Lori had insisted on the establishment of one before they had even taken their clothes off that first night. She had been trying him out just as he was doing to her. And while the others had begun screaming in a very short time, begging him to stop, she had remained quiet, the only exceptions being the occasional moans and perfectly timed words of appreciation. Yes, she had definitely shown some promise that first night.

  “I’m glad you came back,” he said as he crossed the room and took her hand.

  “It is my pleasure, believe me,” she said.

  “The same word as before, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it for me please.”

  “My safe word is revolution,” she said, confirming they were indeed talking about the same word.

  “Very well, then let’s not waste any more time; what do you say?”

  He led her to the center of the floor and motioned for her to get down on her knees. The mattress and box springs from his bed were leaning against the far wall, and the frame itself, as well as the headboard, was in the closet as it had been the last time they met. Adapted flat straps, generally used for towing vehicles, came toward the center of the room from where they had been screwed to the floor in the room’s corners. Smaller straps came from the center of the four walls as well, but none of these straps would be necessary for the time being however.

  He stepped in front of her and waited patiently with the black hood in his hands as she dutifully began the task of undressing him, revealing his already swelling manhood as an eager whimper escaped her lips. When she had gotten his pants to his feet, he handed her the hood, and while she fastened it over her head with the looped cables hanging loosely on her shoulders, he finished removing his jeans and left them folded neatly in the corner of the room. When he returned to her, her hands were crossed obediently behind her back.

  Sergio bound her hands together with the soft ropes comfortably but secure enough she could not get free. When that was completed
, he gently pulled the small cable through the loops at the bottom of her hood and clasped it behind her neck. It was loose enough it did not restrict her neck in any way, but tight enough it could not be raised over her head while it was still attached. After checking to see if she was still comfortable, he attached the stretchable bungee strap between her hands and the hood. It would allow enough movement that she would be able to keep the blood flowing through her arms, but do little more.

  He wrapped his fingers around the strap halfway between where it was connected on both ends and nudged her forward. Her own weight pulled her hands upward slightly as she neared the floor, but this process also allowed her to lower her forehead to the carpeted floor gently. Positioning himself on his knees just outside of her left leg, he touched the wooden paddle against her bare flesh, measuring the proper distance to allow a smooth, comfortable swing. Satisfied he was in the best possible position Sergio pulled the paddle away from her skin and then returned it to its place with a fluid, crisp swing, sending a sharp report echoing though the room as the skin on her ass immediately began to redden.

  Sergio saw her back loosen and swag downward as she relaxed her position, falling happily into the place she seemingly wanted to be for the foreseeable future. He steadied the paddle against her again, and then once more took a swing that resulted in that same echoing sharpness in the small room. He heard her whimper slightly and smiled knowing she was as intent upon more of the same as he was. His hand went further back and the paddle met her as with more force this time, forcing a cry to escape her lips that signified the pleasure had been equally matched with pain, so he repeated it again.

  “Would you like me to stop?”

  “No Sergio, please continue,” she pleaded.

  “Call me Ser,” he corrected her.

  “Yes, Ser of course, please pardon my infraction.”

  Ignoring the request for a pardon, he happily obliged her first request, repeatedly striking her bare flesh with the paddle, stopping only when his arm began to burn from the energy he had exerted. He placed the handle of the paddle into one of her bound hands and generously applied lotion to her swollen ass cheeks, gently massaging them as he rubbed it in deep enough to help soothe some of the pain he had caused.

  Sergio wiped the lotion from his hand and lightly ran his hand up between her legs, inciting a deep, guttural moan from Lori as he did. The paddle had never touched the bare lips of her opening, but they too were swollen, only it was from her growing anticipation rather than the sting of the paddle. He dipped two of his fingers into her slightly as he stroked upward, spreading her natural lubrication higher several times. When he stopped long enough to suck her sweet juices from his fingers, he made sure she heard it, and was rewarded by seeing her begin to shift her weight from one knee to the other, as she did the best she could to grind against her own movement.

  His first two fingers went easily inside her as she rocked back against his hand. In the same motion, just as his fingers reached the inner most depths of her they could, he rocked his hand forward and slid his thumb into her ass. She squealed with delight as he began rocking the hand back and forth, alternating the penetration for his fingers to his thumb. In a matter of moments, she was shaking under his hand, and he knew her orgasm was building.

  “Not yet,” he said, pulling his fingers out of her just before she could reach that point of no return. Sergio pulled his hand behind him and then with his fingers pointed toward the floor, delivered a swat between her legs, his cupped fingers colliding against her wetness with a loud smack. The sound that came from her mouth this time seemed to be laced with more pain than pleasure, but she accepted it without comment.

  Sergio had never slapped a woman between the legs like that before, and he found himself curious as to how much of it she would allow, as well as wanting to know where her true threshold of pain might be. He raised his hand again and delivered another punishing blow to her crotch, this one a tad more powerful. Again she remained silent save for the initial cry when his hand first made contact with her pussy. But as important as the knowledge of her limits was to him, he didn’t want the experience to transform into one of absolute brutality; it wasn’t about that to him, none of it was, not even close. He merely wanted to find that perfect point where the pleasure disappeared completely from the pain, that point he would never cross again once he found it. This was close enough for this session, he reasoned, and mercifully made his way behind her satisfied she had received ample pain for one night.

  His hands firmly on her hips, he entered in a deliberately forceful manner, hearing her breath escape her as he did. A steady rocking of his hips, ever increasing in tempo, quickly brought her back to that point she had been at before, that thin line between the blissful and the orgasmic, but again, he stopped just shy of crossing that line. He could hear the disappointment in her exasperated breath as he withdrew his cock from her.

  Knowing the extent the night would eventually reach, Sergio smiled to himself at her disappointment. She would be allowed to fall over that emotional cliff in time, but not right now. He unbound her hands and straightened her up on her knees. Taking one of her trembling hands in his, he led it to his dick and showed her he wanted her fingers around it. Lori understood and unquestioningly began to stroke him. When he was spent, he wiped the remainder of his wad in the palm of her hand and then led her blindly to the bathroom.

  He stopped her just shy of the shower, and after adjusting the water to the preferred heat, stepped inside. He lathered a washcloth with the Irish Spring body wash and placed it in her hands as he pulled downward lightly to indicate he wanted her on her knees again. Without further motivation, Lori went about the task of washing the stickiness from his cock, taking special care to wash his balls and underneath just as thoroughly as the shaft itself. When he was satisfied the job had been done properly, he took the washcloth from her and rinsed himself off in the shower, while she waited obediently beside him.

  Again back in the bedroom, her hands again bound behind her, Sergio stepped up in front of her, and pulling her head slightly forward, guided his dick through what Lana had once called the blowjob hole in her own mask. Lori would be allowed to reach her orgasm later, while flat on her back and with her arms and legs stretched to the four corners of the room, but before that could happen, she would suck his dick until it was hard again. If she did it well, he would give her the hard pounding she so desperately craved. If not, their next session would begin with the whip instead of the paddle. At the moment, Sergio Marsilis found he was oddly conflicted as to which outcome he would prefer.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lana never saw the brown Saab as it pulled from the curb a block from the house she and Tink shared, and she certainly never saw it pull into the prison parking lot of the Collins Unit, parking several rows away from the spot she herself had chosen. But even if she had seen it, she wouldn’t have recognized it since Sergio Marcilis had been driving something completely different the last time she had seen him. So her careful scan of the parking lot, while easing her own mind, did little to verify no one would know she was here again.

  She went through the same routine as she had before and in no time at all, she was again sitting at a chair facing a wall of glass. And just as before, in a matter of minutes the man who had abducted her and assaulted her over a period of several weeks was sitting within a couple feet from her. He gave her a puzzled smile as he picked up the phone and motioned for her to do the same.

  “You put me on your visitor’s list,” she demanded, “why?”

  “Why did you come?”

  “You first,” she said.

  “Ok, I put you on the list because I thought you might come and I would get to see you again,” he said flatly. “Now it’s your turn, why did you come?”

  “I don’t know,” she finally said after pausing momentarily.

  He frowned and shook his head, reaching to hang the phone back in its cradle on the wall. She watched
in disbelief as he began to rise from his seat. After a second, he hung the phone up and turned to go. Lana panicked, though she truly wouldn’t have been able to say why, and slapped on the glass with her palm. Daniel Morrow slowly sat back down and retrieved the phone without looking at her.

  “I am trying to figure some things out,” she said in a low, barely audible voice, “but I’m really not sure what it is.” He looked back at her now, studying her face for any reaction that might indicate she was lying. After a moment, he seemed satisfied enough and spoke again.

  “Then since you didn’t answer the question, it’s still my turn,” he said.

  “Ok,” she whispered, resigned to this absurd game of tit-for-tat she had somehow gotten herself caught up in with the man behind the glass.

  “What did you do when you left here yesterday?”

  Lana lowered her head, almost dropping the phone. When she did look back at the man, tears were in the corners of her eyes. She knew it didn’t matter how she chose to answer this one, because he already knew the truth somehow. She could see it in his eyes.

  “I went home,” she managed.

  “You know what I’m asking,” he teased. “Did you make it home before your hand was on that sweet pussy of yours?”

  She shook her still lowered head.

  “Where were you when you touched yourself then?”

  “In the parking lot,” she said, the tears now flowing fast and the sobs threatening to escape her throat. She wanted to hang up the phone and run as she had the time before, but she sat there unable to move.

  “I have to go,” she said, still not moving.

  “Ok, you go then,” he said, smiling broadly now, “but before you do, I want to tell you something. Is that ok?”