Jimmy

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Jimmy Page 5

by Malmborg, William


  “Nine minutes to go,” Jimmy said.

  The ropes felt like razor teeth chewing on her torn flesh, and her hands, squeezed into tight fists, felt lifeless.

  Jimmy’s hand suddenly reached up between her legs from behind. Samantha jerked, but her body wasn’t going anywhere. His fingers began rubbing up and down against her groin. Samantha wanted to protest but kept silent.

  Embarrassing warmth began to develop.

  The fingers continued to caress her pubic region for several seconds and then stopped.

  Samantha felt both relief and disappointment. For a few seconds his fingers had taken her mind off the rope. Now it was back full force. At the same time she was disgusted at how her body had reacted.

  “Seven minutes to go.”

  * * *

  Despite having ejaculated twice the day before, Jimmy had once again grown excited that night when thinking about all the scenes he had watched where women were hanging from the wrists and had developed a craving to see Samantha actually hanging for a good chunk of time, her feet unable to touch the ground. The craving had gotten so intense that he nearly rode his bike back to the fallout shelter again to see her and produce the scene, but then realized how dangerous that would be in the middle of the night, especially if someone saw him and then reported it to the police. Being out at night wasn’t against the law, especially since he was eighteen, but once word of Samantha’s disappearance spread, people would remember the little oddities in everyone around them and might grow suspicious of him. Once that happened he had a feeling people would learn about his interests, which in turn could eventually lead them to Samantha. Or lead to her death if he wasn’t able to get to her for a long period of time due to the scrutiny put upon him, and she died from dehydration.

  So, rather than going out to see Samantha Jimmy had opened up his computer and watched a short scene he had downloaded from a bondage site in 2008, one which he legally shouldn’t have been on at the time given his age, yet had no trouble seeing thanks to the simple click of the Yes, I’m Over Eighteen button. The scene had been from a site called Into The Attic which featured amateur girls on the west coast who wanted to try out bondage. Most of the videos didn’t interest him, yet he checked the site regularly just incase something would appear that he craved (same thing with the Kink.com and, more recently, Clips4sale sites). In August of 2008 just such a scene appeared with a girl that called herself Syn that he couldn’t resist. In the video Syn stood on a chair while the owner of the site tied her wrists to a bolt in the ceiling and then removed the chair. She then hung there until she used a safe word to get down, which took quite a while, her toughness and determination making her last longer than most would be able to. BDSM fans probably thought the scene was boring due to a lack of nudity, sexual penetration, or painful implements being put upon her, but Jimmy had loved it and never regretted the thirty dollar membership he had paid just to be able to see that one scene. In fact, Jimmy would have paid hundreds of dollars for hundreds of scene like it, his eyes not caring if there wasn’t any nudity in them because he loved seeing the girls tied up in everyday clothes anyway. It seemed more real that way.

  Watching the muted scene and then masturbating to it had stifled the craving that night, and then, after a long hot shower, he had been able to sleep. The craving had returned that morning, however, and now, seeing Samantha hang from her wrists, her feet trying to touch the ground, her breathing shallow due to the pressure the position put on her lungs, was amazing. It was so hot he wanted to masturbate while she hung there, but didn’t for fear that he would spend so much time in the shelter with her that he wouldn’t have time to shower before school and that people would smell the semen once he got to class.

  Instead he just watched her, his mind savoring the intense position as her body slowly swayed back and forth, the single strand of rope making it impossible for the weight to find the proper balance to stay still. It was incredible.

  * * *

  Samantha felt the ground beneath her feet and almost cried out with thankfulness. But then Jimmy’s hand was upon her right breast and she once again felt anger and disgust. Adding to this was the terrible pain that raced into her wrists now that the blood flow was no longer cut off. Her hands screamed in agony.

  At the same time there was a strange numbness to certain parts of her left hand, which had seemed to take most of her weight while hanging. Pins and needles covered most of her flesh, with the exception of a small area near her thumb and another right below her pinky. Due to the painful tingle, however, her mind wasn’t too concerned with the lifelessness that distorted her left hand. She gritted her teeth, waiting for it all to pass.

  It wasn’t just her hands that were suffering. Her elbows felt as if she had gone through a strenuous workout and wanted to stay straight. She bent them a little and felt her muscles throughout her arms gasp.

  Jimmy’s hand continued to work her right breast, his fingers sending shivers of humiliation through her.

  Pretend it isn’t him.

  Her mind was unable to accomplish this.

  The pins and needles in her hands grew worse, almost as if someone were heating up the imaginary torment, which caused her to grind her teeth back and forth.

  Jimmy stopped touching her and went over to tie off the rope. Rather than pulling her up to the tips of her toes he gave her a considerable amount of slack. It was almost enough for her to be able to reach down and touch her face, just a few inches short.

  Samantha took several deep breaths while he did this.

  Jimmy returned to her side.

  Samantha stared at him.

  The pins and needles were fading and her breathing was returning to normal. Her fear, however, wasn’t dissipating. What was he planning to do now?

  Without warning, he reached out and began to unbutton her jeans.

  “No,” she gasped. “Please don’t!”

  Jimmy ignored her plea and struggled with the button. His fingers were not experienced at undressing another person and it took him several seconds to break the connection. He then pulled down her zipper exposing her panties.

  She hopelessly struggled, her mind unable to come to terms with the moment she had been dreading since the abduction. She did not want him to rape her. She did not want him to be the one who would take her virginity.

  “Stop,” he said.

  She didn’t.

  “Stop.” He grabbed her legs while staying this and forced her to stay still. Her struggles were no match for his strength, but this didn’t mean she was going to give up. She continued to fight against his hands until he said, “I’ll hang you again and then whip you hard.”

  Her struggles ceased.

  In the end he would have won anyway. Nothing she could do would stop him from raping her.

  “Lift your legs,” he ordered while pushing her pants down to her ankles. Her panties were now completely exposed.

  The ropes tightened on her wrists as she lifted one leg. He pulled her jeans from that one and then from the other.

  Samantha felt completely vulnerable, even with her underwear still in place. It was humiliating.

  Jimmy carefully folded the jeans and set them next to the stack of blankets. He then returned and reached for her panties.

  A chill raced through her as his fingers went beneath the fabric and brushed up against her pubic region. No guy had ever touched her there before. There was no pleasure. His hand felt dirty.

  Her panties came off quicker than her pants had.

  The vulnerability she had felt before multiplied itself several times.

  Why me? she pleaded. Why did he take me?

  Tears began to well in her eyes again. She didn’t want him to have her. Not like this. Not ever. Panic erupted.

  Jimmy didn’t rape her.

  Instead, after looking at her nakedness for a few seconds, he went over and grabbed the bucket, which he then set next to her bare legs.

  “If you had listened to me
earlier I wouldn’t have to leave you like this.” He shook his head. “You’ll have to go eventually and I don’t want to clean your clothes.”

  Samantha looked down at the bucket. Disgust at having to use it should have filled her, but it didn’t. Instead she was relieved that he wasn’t planning on raping her. Unfortunately the thought that he probably would eventually didn’t go away. There would come a point when he would want her and then there would be nothing she could do about it.

  “I’ll be back tonight,” Jimmy said.

  * * *

  Alan was eating a bowl of cereal when Jimmy came back from his bike ride. A second later the shower downstairs was on and Jimmy in it.

  Fifteen minutes went by before Jimmy was finished and came upstairs to eat something before school.

  “How was your ride?” Alan asked.

  “Pretty good. You know, I never realized how nice it is in the morning like when it’s still dark out. Everything is so peaceful and the air smells nice.”

  “Oh,” Alan said. Jimmy was speaking quickly, which made Alan wonder if everything was okay. Something didn’t seem right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He had never before seen his older brother like this. Could it all really be because of the prom or was something else worrying him?

  After a quick search of the kitchen Jimmy settled on a bowl of cereal just as Alan had. He ate fast. It was almost seven twenty, which meant the two had to leave soon.

  “I wish I could just go out and ride all morning, from like three to seven, without anyone else out there,” Jimmy said while finishing his cereal. “It’s just so peaceful. I love it.”

  “You just ride around, nothing else?” Alan couldn’t understand why this was something so great. It seemed boring. Though, he would admit, a nice stroll through the woods was cool every now and then, but every morning. Nah, that would get old quick.

  “Yep. I go down the trails through the woods and out onto the edge of the soybean fields. Watching the sun come up over those fields is one of the most beautiful things you could ever imagine. I wish I could go back in time to when the country was all woods and prairie and just walk for miles. Ever wonder what that would be like?”

  “I guess,” Alan said. In his mind he thought, Jimmy, you’re getting weird.

  * * *

  Actually, Jimmy thought to himself while talking with Alan, I wish I could go back in time and build a house way out in the woods far away from any civilization that anyone knew about with a secret dungeon in the basement that no one could find and bring dozens of girls that I kidnapped from farms there.

  It was a fantasy he had had for a long time, one which would never become a reality even if he was able to find such a place in this day and age because in his fantasy he left girls tied up in the woods hanging from their wrists, their bodies subject to whatever nature forced upon them. In his fantasy no one would ever be able to find them, but in real life there was a chance someone would stumble upon them, even if he was hundreds of miles from civilization. It was just too risky.

  Chapter Five

  Megan went to school with the need to find out what people knew about Samantha’s disappearance and almost immediately began asking classmates if Samantha had said anything to anyone about running away or going out of town for a while. Every answer was no and by noon several students of the school were speculating about the Samantha King disappearance. Unfortunately, due to the small town mentality that nothing terrible could happen, only a few people were actually worried. Megan was one of them.

  “But she wouldn’t just leave,” Megan said to Alison Ellis.

  “You don’t know that,” Alison replied. “Maybe she got in a fight with her parents?”

  “No. I could hear it on the phone. Nothing happened. Samantha just disappeared.”

  “Megan, come on, she wasn’t kidnapped. This is Ashland. Okay. That just wouldn’t happen here.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I gotta go.” The bell signaling the start of class was about to ring and Alison wanted to get to the bathroom before going to Biology.

  Grrrr, Megan moaned to herself. It was so frustrating. No one was taking this seriously. They were acting as if people just left all the time.

  Her next class was World Literature; a class she had regretted signing up for the moment she stepped foot into the room last winter when second semester began. It wasn’t that she disliked reading, but the teacher was an old bitch and for some strange reasons didn’t like guys, or any girl who participated in sports - especially cheerleading. She was also vocal in her support of the Republican party and hated Obama because she felt he was a socialist Muslim who wanted to ruin the nation, one who was even responsible for the terrible oil spill in the gulf even though there was nothing he could really do about it.

  Megan knew that her teacher was not alone in her opinions and wouldn’t care about them if she kept them to herself. The teacher didn’t, though, and seemed to find ways of comparing every negative aspect of Obama and the Democratic party - both real and fabricated - to the literature they were reading and then would go on a rant. Making the situation worse was that most people in town felt the same way, including her father and the school board, so no one cared when she complained. Plus the teacher had been working there since her parent’s were students and no one had the guts to get rid of her. Still, it made Megan sick every time she went on a rant, especially when it was fueled by something like a passage within the novel One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, which she would use to show what life would be like once Obama turned the nation into a socialist country.

  Most students brushed that away and wouldn’t have despised her if that were her only flaw. The one that pissed off her fellow students was her thought that kids their age couldn’t help but get in trouble and be destructive during their free time and needed to be shackled down by the burden of homework and reading assignments in order to prevent such unacceptable behavior. It was really bad.

  Even Jimmy Hawthorn, the guy who sat behind her and never really said a word to anyone unless spoken to, had voiced his opinion of her on several different occasions. She was awful, yet there was nothing Megan, or any other student in class, could do about it.

  “Hey Jimmy,” Megan said a minute before the bell was going to ring. She twisted in her seat so she could see him.

  “Yeah?” Jimmy asked, his eyes drifting away from hers.

  “Did you hear about Samantha King?”

  “What about her?” he asked quickly, his eyes back and staring into hers.

  “She disappeared yesterday after school.” It surprised her that he hadn’t heard about it, even if he rarely ever talked to anyone. By now it was common news.

  “Oh yeah, I think I did hear something about that. She ran away or something, didn’t she?”

  “No,” Megan snapped. “Samantha wouldn’t run away. Something happened to her.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like she was kidnapped by someone. My dad doesn’t think so but - ”

  “Whoa,” Jimmy interrupted. “Your dad doesn’t think she was kidnapped?”

  “No, but I know she was. Samantha had no reason to run away. Something happened to her.”

  Ms. Gliek walked in just as the bell rang. Anyone who wasn’t in their seats, even if they were just standing next to them, was marked tardy. It made Megan so angry. Teachers, even ones she liked, focused too much on stupid disciplinary rules, tardiness being one of them. If a student walked in twenty minutes late that was one thing. Marking them tardy because they weren’t sitting in their seat properly when the bell rang, that was something else.

  * * *

  Jimmy had expected there to be a huge uproar over the fact that Samantha King had never returned home the night before, but aside from a few speculative comments, no one was really saying that much, and apparently the police weren’t even involved yet, which was amazing. He had thought for sure every single police offi
cer would have been at the school asking questions, similar to the scene in the movie Scream after the two kids were murdered in the beginning, and that the FBI and news media would have all descended upon the town. Instead the only one who even seemed remotely concerned was Megan Reed, the daughter of the town sheriff, and a good friend Samantha’s. It was amazing and a huge relief.

  At the same time he knew that things still had the potential to turn hectic and that his visions of the town being swamped with reporters and FBI agents and other law enforcement agencies could still happen, especially if Samantha wasn’t heard from. Once she was missing for a week or so people would start to panic. Until then he felt like he could relax his fears a bit, though of course he still had to stay alert.

  * * *

  Brett Murphy saw Jimmy Hawthorn and that new girl Tina talking in the hallway before school ended and knew he had to interfere somehow. He had to inform this Tina girl that she was much too pretty to be hanging out with the likes of Jimmy.

  A look of fear spread across Jimmy’s face as Brett approached (at least this is what Brett saw).

  “Hey Jimmy, how’s it going?” Brett asked.

  Jimmy and Tina swiveled around to look at him. “What do you want shitface?” Jimmy asked.

  Without warning Brett had Jimmy in a headlock. Tina gasped.

  “Who’s the shitface now you stupid cock sucking bastard? Who is it?” Brett looked over at Tina while holding Jimmy and said, “Why do you hang out with this loser? Don’t you know he’s the punching bag of the entire - ” all the air rushed out of him as Jimmy’s elbow connected with his stomach just below the ribcage.

  His arm loosened.

  “Let’s go,” Jimmy said to Tina after pulling free.

  Brett, gasping for air, straightened himself and looked around. The bitch who had once reported him for using a hall pass to go get a Coke from the vending machine during class hours was looking at him. God, he hated all hall monitors, especially that one.

  Before she could get close he walked away, his mind thinking about one thing: Jimmy. The bastard was going to pay for this.

 

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