Collecting Rayne

by Havok, Rayne

  “I’m glad, Bradley.”

  I put my hand between her legs and feel her warm pussy. She moans.

  “I need to be inside of you.”

  “I can see that.”

  Lifting her into my arms, my dick slides into her before I get us over to her vanity. Ecstasy overwhelms me and I almost drop her, but we make it in time to rest her on top of it. I try something I haven’t yet. I move inside of her and actually fuck her like I normally would, adding friction to the cocktail.

  I get three deep thrusts before I need to stop and pull out. She watches as I jack myself off onto her tits. I needed to know that I’d be able to do that, to pull out. Having that confirmed, I know she doesn’t own me and my plan has hope for success.

  She wipes up my come then sucks her fingers clean while I watch.

  Pulling my pants on, I say, “The case is getting closer to you.”

  “Is there anything you can do?” She appears uneasy, yet somehow hopeful that she can be safe with me.

  “Not without showing my hand, I’m only a cog in the machine, Tula. If I start going around messing with things I’ve never been involved in all of a sudden, then someone, or more likely, many someone’s, will know something is going on.”

  “I understand.”

  “I do want to help you.”

  “How would you be able to?”

  “Well, I could take you to my house to lay low. Make everyone believe that you had just run off. I could keep you off the grind, so you wouldn’t actually have to leave.”

  “And why shouldn’t I just go off-grid, actually take off and start over somewhere else? It’s not hard, I’ve done it before—many times… all the time.”

  “Do you want to do that again?” I can feel the real question showing itself.

  “Are you asking if I want to leave you behind?”

  “I think I am asking that.”

  “I absolutely do not want that.”

  “Good. I don’t want it either.”

  “What is the time frame?”

  “I think, honestly, the earlier, the better.”

  “So, like, now? Is that why you’re here tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I hear a run-down of what you’re thinking, what the plan you’ve formulated for me might be?”

  “Of course, here’s what I have so far.” I sit on the chair and call her over to me, resting her on top of my lap. “I am going to leave in my car, so I can be seen on the footage leaving. I’ll park on the east side of the building where I’ll help you load whatever it is you may need from here. And you, of course.” I kiss her forehead and then ask, “Would you need anything from your house?”

  “I have everything I’ll ever need secured.”

  “Ok. Then you’ll come to my house, they would never look for you there, and if by chance they do, I’ve got contingency plans.”

  “Ok.” She bites her bottom lip; making it seem like she’s apprehensive about it all, but the spark her eyes tell me of her trust in me.

  “Are you sure you’d want this? You have to be a hundred percent invested. You can’t show up again in a few weeks, they’ll think, for sure, you’d been up to no good.”

  “I’m sure. I don’t want to have to live apart from you, I’ve grown to like you very much. You’ve kept my secret and I trust you to do what’s best for me for now. And I appreciate your kindness.”

  “Then, let’s do this. How much time will you need in here?”

  “I can be ready in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll see you outside in eight, then.”

  She chuckles and I make my exit as loudly as I can, being sure to say goodbye to the remaining staff before heading out, even though I’d never done such a thing before.

  My hands are shaking by the time I make it to my car, but I’m able to do what needs to be done.

  “You ready?” I ask when she steps out the emergency exit door with a duffle over her shoulder. The hoodie does nothing to disguise her. Anyone would be able to tell it’s her. But I do appreciate the effort she’s made to be incognito.

  “You ready to see my house, your new home?”

  “Absolutely.” She climbs into the passenger seat, looking to me with eyes that see her knight in shining armor, and then we go.

  Chapter twelve

  The exterior of the house is dark as we arrive, which is what I wanted. Pulling into the garage, I close the door right away so Tula can remain unseen.

  As we make our way inside, the darkness follows. I keep the lights off. I take Tula by the hand and lead her down the hallway to the door at the end. I open it for her, wait for her to enter, and then swiftly close it behind her. The locking mechanisms engage, one after the other, echoing throughout the walls and up to the rafters before a silence heavy as death falls in the wake.

  I can’t hear anything from her through all the soundproofing.

  Willing my adrenaline-filled heart to slow down, I enter the room adjacent, pulling a large oil painting from the wall, revealing a two-way mirror that allows me to see her. Clicking on the small light, I can see she is standing in the center of the room, startled by the sudden flicker of the bulb. She spins and I see the hope drain from her face when she sees she has no exit.

  Its just her and the chair in there. The chair I took from the evidence room where it has been sitting for years. Having caught a serial creep a few years ago who built contraptions such as this for his hobbies—hobbies including the kidnapping and rape of women.

  The chair is thick wood, handcrafted to fit hidden metal cuffs at the wrist and ankle spots. They are triggered as a unit after all four sensors are set simultaneously. It won’t activate until the person, in this case, Tula, sits in a position where her ankles and wrists rest snuggly against the correct spots.

  Then, like an animal trap, it snaps quickly around the limbs, shackling the victim to the chair. Once that’s done, I will be able to bring chains in and hoist her into a more ideal position. One that leaves her tightly secure and immobile.

  I don’t know how long it will take her to activate the chair, I don’t know enough about her to know if she even gets tired and needs to sit. But I have time to wait and I know she can’t get out of this room whether she gets bolted down or not. The walls are reenforced, and no amount of otherworldly strength could break through, that is, if she were to possess any such thing. I can’t imagine a come-guzzler needs that kind of strength, but I don’t know anything in detail about her. I’m banking mostly on my comic book collection, and none of them are like Tula.

  ***

  I’m surprised when it takes almost a week before she even sits in the chair. Mostly, she stood, arms crossed, staring at the mirror as though she were trying to ignite it, sometimes not moving from the position for hours. But then it happens. I don’t know if its exhaustion or surrender that puts her ass in the seat, but whatever it was, thank fuck for it.

  Looking back on the feed, I see her slump into it and in less than twenty minutes she’s triggered the chair. A loud snap, as all four of the claws close tightly with her inside them, startles me.

  She yelps, tugging instinctively against them to no avail. As I stand and watch her now, she seems resigned to simply stare at the mirror again. I watch the rise and fall of her chest as the only thing she does now is breathe and blink.

  I leave her be for more days, she has told me that she can go without sustenance for longer than my entire life and not die. I need her at least weakened by lack of nourishment before I risk my neck in there with her. So, for now, patience is my friend.

  ***

  On the day that I feel brave enough to deal with her, stealing myself at the door before going inside, excitement is abundant.

  Her eyes land on me, and instead of looking away, I stare back into hers so she knows I’m not going to back down.

  “Bradley,” she starts, her voice scratchy and hoarse. She pauses briefly, clearing her throat before starting again. “You don’t have
to do this.” Her eyes bore into mine, pleading for her release since her words aren’t working.

  “Don’t I, Tula? I’m not a bad man. But sometimes good men do things like this because they need to. Because something in them drives them to it. In all my police years I’ve seen men be driven to do some of the most bizarre shit and all because of a woman. You can’t tell me I don’t need to do this. It’s in our nature to do exactly this. Go after, and take, what we want. Stop at nothing to get what we want. I have never wanted anything as much as you. There was nothing that could get in the way. Not even you.”

  “I would have been yours.”

  “For a time, I’m sure that’s true. But I couldn’t risk you not being here when I needed it. It’s not like I could go out and find another of you, or even the next best thing. What you have is the most mind-altering drug, and I couldn’t risk not having it.”

  A tear falls down her cheek then disappears into her skin. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say another word.

  I take her silence as permission to carry on with what I was doing. And that means dragging the chains in here to get her up and ready to fuck.

  ***

  Once she is secured in the shackles, arms above her head, elbows firmly pressed against her ears. Each of her legs double manacled tightly to the wall. It would take a locksmith, along with a good-sized army, to free her from this.

  I begin setting up the room for her long-term stay. There is a cage of rot iron in the closet that I wheel out and lock into place with anchors built into the floor. It’s just large enough to fit around her, making her look very much like a bird. It has several doors and removable sections so I can access any part of her safely whenever I want to.

  She has the look of pure hellfire in her eyes as I hoist and maneuver her into position with the chain pulley system. It makes me a little uneasy, only because I don’t know the scope of her abilities or strength. If she’s lived as long as the earth, she may have some evolutionary badassery in there I know nothing about.

  But at least I know that all this steel is here to counter any surprises—surely, she’s not stronger than good ol’ American steel.

  I can’t help but watch her, naked now and completely restrained. Something about her like this making it all the more erotic.

  There is a part of me that knows I should wait longer, she’s mine now, and I have all the time in the world to use her, but it’s been so long already and I’m sure it wouldn’t be catastrophic if I just get the head in.

  My fingers slide along her pussy, she’s dryer than normal and I assume it’s from dehydration. She’s still warm down there and that’s all I need right now anyway.

  I angle my cock into her, the sensations nearly do me in that instant. But I’m able to push it a little more, getting my entire head in and out before frantically scrambling away from her and exploding. I’m sure not to leave anything behind.

  Her tongue darts out and I know she’s hungry for it, but I know I can’t feed her.

  Without a word, I leave the room and hang the painting back up; I have no desire to stand and watch her like this.

  Knowing that she is mine now, and having just had a release, I’m finally able to relax. The weight of addiction lifted; I am once again in control.

  Making food and getting some phone calls into the station is a breeze when you’ve finally gotten things taken care of.

  ***

  That night, sleep was peaceful, I awoke only once to check on Tula. She was unmoving, I waited to see her chest rise and fall to be sure she wasn’t dead, then I went back to sleep.

  I worked my shift and returned home, checked on Tula, who was fuming again.

  I waited a painful two weeks, while sticking to this routine, before I initiated contact with her next. I needed her to be tired and hungry, but mostly I needed her to have given up hope.

  The door creeks a little when it’s opened, which alerts Tula’s to my arrival.

  She has her red-rimmed eyes on me when I flip on the light.

  “Bradley?” Confusion, along with betrayal, hint in her question.

  I feel a little tug of sadness for her. She seems so small in here. No remorse or regret, though. I did what I had to do.

  “What are you doing with me?”

  “Keeping you.”

  “Why like this?”

  “I suppose, this is how I wanted you.”

  “I liked you.”

  “I know that. But I couldn’t be the chief who’s always inside a strip club, the town would start to talk. I couldn’t be seen with you or my reputation would be ruined.”

  “You did this to save face?”

  “I suppose that sums it up.”

  “Your species really has no redeeming qualities.” Her expression turns to one of hatred, squinting at me with the anger she feels for all of mankind. It’s enough that I finally have to look away.

  She may be right.

  Opening the latch, I pull the cage away. Checking the locks on her extremities and collaring the last one around her neck, carefully so as not to choke her.

  When I set up this room, I had it fitted with a hose to clean the tiled floor of her bodily mess, it seems that she must use all of it for food because there is no sign of any waste, not even the hint of urine, she either doesn’t have that function, or is not creating waste for now, either way, it’s a win for me.

  “I wish you’d change your mind about all of this. It’s not necessary.”

  “I wish you’d stop begging. I do have a gag if I feel it might help with that.”

  “Fine, but when you’re done with me, can I go back to my life?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  She quiets her inquiry and I approach her again, tugging my pants off.

  My cock is more than ready to be inside of her. I jacked off a few hours ago so I wouldn’t be so eager that I make a mistake and accidently come inside of her—to death.

  Her hole is so warm. All the sensations I crave overtake me, sending a shiver of ecstasy down my spine. I hold off long enough to get a full minute inside of her before clumsily dragging myself away and coming into a container I can take with me as I go.

  “Could I have that?” she asks, hopeful.

  “Not yet. I’m sorry.”

  “So, you plan on leaving me in here to starve for an undetermined amount of time? Just so I’m clear.”

  “Yes.”

  “You are the worst of them.”

  “I might be.” I leave her with that, reinforcing her cage before I go.

  Chapter thirteen

  It’s a full two years before I decide introduce Keith to Tula. I thought I’d be nice and let him in on the little secret I have hidden in my house. Best friends, and all. So, one night I invite him over, knowing he’d be excited for Tula as much as I always am.

  “You want to see what I’ve been up to?” I say when he walks into the living room, freshly opened beer in his hand.

  “You’ve been up to something?”

  “Yea, fucker. You wanna see, or you wanna go fuck yourself?”

  “Those the only options? I guess I could fuck myself,” he jokes.

  “I’ve got something that could do that for you.”

  “If you’re hinting at some gay shit, I’m not interested—unless… nope I’m interested,” he says, laughing. “You got a woman?” he asks after some thought.

  Growing up together and having the same taste in women lent us to a lot of ‘wrong’ kind of threesomes.

  “There is a lady.”

  He looks almost like I’ve told him the most shocking thing ever.

  “You have a lady?”

  “I do.”

  “And she wants a piece of me?”

  “Well…”

  Reading my evasiveness, he says, “Ok, I take it this is going to be a more show than tell kind of thing since you are being super vague, for someone who is sharing something.”

  “It’s hard to explain. But you’re goin
g to love it.”

  “Lead the way, my friend, I’m always ready for one of your stunts.”

  I unlock the door to Tula instead of showing her off through the two-way mirror. I feel the impact is much better this way.

  I have him enter first, and then hit the light, his jaw drops the instant he sees her.

  She’s a little thinner then when I took her in. Discovering that if I give her only a drop or two of my come every other day or so, it leaves her looking her best, and also feeling her best, without all the pesky side effects of actual strength or mental fortitude. She’s as docile as euthanized cat.

  I also learned that starvation dries her up. So, if only for my own selfishness and lubrication, I give her food.

  He looks at me a full minute, mouth agape, before saying anything.

  “This is the stripper that went missing years ago. You’ve had her this whole time?”

  “I have.”

  “And you’ve kept her chained up in here, naked, like some fucking sex slave?”

  “Yes. I suppose if you want it all the way to the bare bones, I have done that.”

  “Holy fuck! You’re a genius.”

  “So, you want in?”

  “Fuck yes! I want in that.” He unbuttons his pants but I stop him before he can continue.

  “You can’t finish in her. You have to use the cup. She’ll suck you dry ‘til you die.”

  “No shit? Could be the way I’d welcome death,” he says, and then contemplates it momentarily, rubbing the scruff on his chin.

  “Seriously, she’s some sort of creature.”

  He mockingly winks at me. “Got it.”

  “Seriously. Put your dick in her, then when you feel it pulling and you’re on the verge of coming, you need to pull out.”

  “Fine.” Keith takes his dick out, and for the purpose of helping him survive, I stay to supervise.

  He reaches between her legs, she flinches, but doesn’t speak, she gave up talking to me over a year ago.

  I move the lower section of the cage away and let him get closer. “Go ahead.”

  He slips inside of her and I can see his face, the face I must have had when I was introduced to the best feeling in the world.