Jimmy

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Jimmy Page 9

by Malmborg, William


  The sound changed as her eyes opened but did not disappear with the dream. She jerked her head around trying to see where she was but could not focus on anything, her mind confused as to why she wasn’t asleep in her own bed.

  The sound grew louder.

  Samantha looked to the left.

  The door was opening.

  Oh shit.

  Both hands scrambled to find the shelf board. It was in her lap yet her fingers could not grasp it.

  Using the wall, Samantha stood up and let the board flip over into her waiting palms and then took hold of one end. Jimmy entered the room at the same time.

  A terrible charley horse lumped up in her left calf and she nearly fell over. At the same time she swung the board in a wide arc toward the door.

  Jimmy turned at the sound, his face full of surprise.

  In the microsecond before the board struck him in the face, Jimmy fell back and pulled the door halfway shut. The board hit the end of the door and vibrated terribly.

  Samantha could no longer hold it as it wobbled and the board went crashing to the floor. As it did, all hope was lost.

  NO! her mind cried.

  She watched the board falling the way a person would watch a winning lottery ticket go up in flames.

  Then Jimmy came in and grabbed her by the throat. Her body was forced back against the wall, her left leg screaming, and her lungs crying out for air.

  Jimmy held her like that for several seconds, his face full of fury, his eyes almost turning red, and then threw her across the room.

  The strength he had in that one arm was amazing, though Samantha did not appreciate it as her body went tumbling to the ground several feet from him. In fact, she could not think at all because of the terror that held her.

  Jimmy was behind her and both arms came down around her chest. The charley horse in her leg was forgotten as he lifted her from the ground and forced her up against the opposite wall.

  His breathing was rapid and warm against the side of her neck. She didn’t even try to break free, only wondered to herself what had gone wrong? At this moment she was supposed to be running home, Jimmy lying unconscious - maybe even dead - upon the floor. How had he known?

  Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall.

  * * *

  Anger overwhelmed Jimmy to the point where he did something he never thought he would ever do, something that he had seen countless times on TV and in bondage videos, but never thought was sexually stimulating, that being to slap a woman across the face. Yet he did it now, and not just once. He slapped Samantha several times while holding her against the wall, both front hand and back hand until his skin hurt, and then dragged her to the overhead pipe, the anger having failed to dissipate and mixing in with the adrenaline that had erupted.

  * * *

  Samantha cried out as her feet left the ground and all her bodyweight was supported by her thin wrists which the knotted rope was painfully pushing together. Both her hands became fists and her legs kicked about trying to find something - anything - to rest upon. Nothing was there.

  Jimmy tied off the rope to the pipe and then walked over to her. Before tying her he had stripped her down to her underwear and now stared at her half-naked body.

  She felt his eyes and then his hands on her uplifted breasts. At first they gently caressed them, but then became rough and squeezed.

  Samantha tried to squirm out of his grip but it was no use so without thinking she kicked a leg up and connected it with his side. Moments later she would regret it.

  Jimmy shouted as the blow landed and let go of her breasts. She still felt his hands upon them, however, and knew there would most likely be bruises in the shape of his fingers in a few hours.

  “God,” he said as his hand rubbed where her ankle had connected. They then dropped down to the buckle of his belt and undid it.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Samantha gasped; her lips sore from his repeated blows. Even without the pain from her lips talking was difficult when hanging like this, yet her words managed to be loud and audible.

  Jimmy didn’t say anything.

  Samantha closed her eyes as his hand went back, and prepared herself for the pain.

  Nothing happened.

  She opened her eyes again.

  Jimmy swung the belt toward her. It snapped across the side of her body and danced across her breast.

  Glass would have shattered from her scream.

  The strike was so powerful that her body started swinging from it.

  A line of white-hot sting sprang up across the skin of her midsection.

  And then there was another from the other side as he brought his hand back, and then a third right into her stomach. Both hurt as much as the first and she started sobbing while screaming, tears and mucus sliding down her face.

  “Only twenty-seven left,” Jimmy said.

  Samantha passed out after only eleven.

  A few moments later a splash of cold water jolted her back into her terrible situation. Now she was wet and the next nineteen hits stung even more, though, thankfully, they were across her back this time, which wasn’t as bad, though the difference was hardly noticeable while actually being whipped, each blow causing a sharp painful line upon her skin, one which would slowly expand with an strange and unpleasant warm feeling. It was horrible.

  When he was finished Samantha could not speak or move. Her body was broken for the moment and she just hung there, tears plastered to her face, sweat to her body. Had he lowered her to her feet she still would have hung there because her legs would not have supported her body above, but that did not happen.

  Instead, he came up from behind and pulled back her hair bending her head at an awkward angle.

  “Ahh,” she moaned softly and then gagged as something ran down her throat.

  “You made a big mistake,” he said, his voice sending shivers through her. “By this time tomorrow your hands will have no life left in them, that is if you don’t pass out and suffocate first.”

  Samantha could feel the pressure on her lungs and thought that suffocating would be a blessing. It wouldn’t happen though, not unless weight was added to her feet. It took a lot of pressure to actually suffocate a person like this. So much pressure that the chest would be sucked inward and crush the lungs.

  “Please,” she started but could not finish.

  Jimmy reached around and took hold of her breasts again while her head sagged forward and squeezed. Samantha hardly noticed.

  It had been about ten minutes since she had first been pulled off her feet and already her hands felt useless. There still was a tingle in them though. It was a painful tingle.

  The fists she had made upon being pulled off her feet had loosened a little, but not much, her fingers only able to open slightly and with great strain.

  Jimmy let go of her breasts and started to walk away. Before leaving he turned and looked at her. His hand then flicked the light switch into the OFF position.

  Samantha was left alone in the dark, in a state of constant pain. Each passing second felt like thousands and she could not wait for his return so he would let her down. She would do anything just to feel her feet against the ground. Anything. In the meantime she would spend an eternity hanging from her wrists by a rope that had already torn most of her skin away, each strand feeling as if it were willfully digging deeper and deeper into her flesh.

  Her body felt stretched as it hung there and she could not image anything worse than what she was going through. Every moment was noticeable, the ropes and what they caused her body, unrelenting.

  * * *

  Jimmy put his face in his hands for several seconds while sitting atop the fallout shelter trap door, his mind unable to even comprehend how close he had come to losing Samantha, and thus, his freedom, all because he had tried to be nice. He just couldn’t believe it. How could he do something like that? How could he be so stupid?

  Samantha was his prisoner and he her captor and nothing he could
do would ever make her view the situation differently. Furthermore he couldn’t allow himself to view it differently, because if he did, he would slip up, and if he slipped up too badly, well, the outcome would not be pleasant.

  Self preservation was now the name of the game.

  For her as well.

  If she tries to be nice to you, it isn’t because she is being generous; it is because she is trying something.

  Maybe in time, once she was completely broken to the point of being unable to think of anything but pleasing him things would be different, but right now he had to be careful. One day of standing with her wrists tied over her head wasn’t enough to make her devoted to him. Hell, one week probably wouldn’t be enough.

  But by this time tomorrow she will be sorry, which would be a step in the right direction.

  Earlier he had developed a soft spot and felt bad for being cruel to her, now that wouldn’t be the case, and any time he felt a soft spot starting to develop he would smother it. The risk of her getting the better of him was just too great. He couldn’t allow it to happen. He couldn’t allow himself to see Samantha as anything more than an object he used for his own pleasure. Two days ago such an idea would have been unthinkable, now it was absolutely necessary. He wasn’t a mean person and hated making people feel bad in normal everyday life, but now he didn’t have a choice, not unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life in jail.

  No mercy, ever. If she misbehaves you punish her.

  At the moment he had accomplished that and had her in a position that she wouldn’t forget for a long time and would make her regret what she had done.

  Jimmy knew this because he had hanged himself from the wrists many times when no one was home, and in the fallout shelter from time to time just to see what it was like, his mind always imagining he was some poor medieval peasant girl locked in a dungeon, hanging from her wrists until she confessed to some trumped-up charge.

  It was an incredibly painful position, especially when rope was used and the longest he had ever been able to endure it was ten minutes, and only then on rare occasions, because once he ejaculated, which happened every time even without genital contact, he usually grew weary of the fantasy and let himself down. Sometimes, however, his determination to experience it got the upper hand and he stayed like that for the set time limit, which was always ten minutes because of his fear of getting stuck, which had nearly happened once, his fingers and hands too numb to undo the knots. It had been frightening, especially since his parents would have found him if he hadn’t been able to get free.

  Samantha’s been hanging there much longer than ten minutes already, he said to himself, his mind thinking it had to be nearing midnight. And will continue to hang there until tomorrow afternoon.

  God, what would that be like? A part of him wanted to feel the experience without the damaging consequences just so he could understand it. Another part couldn’t wait for the time to pass because he wanted to see what she looked like after all of it - her hands especially - and how she felt once she was lowered back to the ground.

  These thoughts, mixed in with everything that had happened during the last half hour, caused an erection to build; one which he knew wouldn’t go away.

  In his mind he saw himself going home and looking at some computer porn to get rid of it and then taking a shower, but then dismissed the idea because it just didn’t seem all that exciting. Plus he would have to wait for the computer to boot up and then connect to the Internet, and then would get sucked in to a dozen different sites, all of which would cause him to spend hours online which meant he would never get to sleep.

  You could fuck Samantha.

  The idea stuck and even though he wouldn’t be tall enough to reach her pussy with his dick he knew he could move some of the giant containers down there and stand on them. That would get him high enough for sure.

  What if she has an STD?

  The thought chilled him to the core, especially since he didn’t have any condoms.

  What are the chances a high school senior has something?

  Jimmy didn’t know the statistics on this, but knew the rate was growing and that there was a chance she had something.

  At the same time he really wanted to know how it felt to have his penis up inside someone, though not as much as he desired the feel of having a mouth around it.

  At least you won’t have to worry about taking care of a baby if you get her pregnant.

  Jimmy smiled at the thought as he considered his options, his mind marveling at the fact that he had just eliminated one of the greatest of all the high school fears. However, it also made him admit the fact that he was never going to let Samantha go and that in all honesty she would die at some point, his own hands being responsible.

  To his surprise the thought didn’t upset him all that much even though he didn’t like to think of himself as a killer. In fact, it brought to mind something he had seen in the past that he was curious about, something that also sexually stimulated him at times though wasn’t something he had ever dreamt he would truly get to see.

  His hand started rubbing his penis through his pants. A few seconds later he went back into the fallout shelter, the words, “Let me down, please,” greeting him and causing his erection to thump even more.

  Chapter Seven

  Jimmy woke up the next morning completely exhausted and sore, and wished he could simply lie in bed for a few more hours, his mind focused on nothing but the TV and whatever programs they liked to spit out between six and ten. Of course knowing the consequences of such actions, Jimmy didn’t allow himself to get sucked in and forced himself to his feet, his body moaning with protests as his joints popped and his muscles flexed.

  Oh god, he said to himself while putting his hands on his lower back and stretching his chest upward.

  A smile followed.

  Upstairs a pot of coffee was waiting along with Alan who was just finishing with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

  “You’re up later than usual,” Alan noted.

  “Yeah, couldn’t sleep,” Jimmy said while pouring himself some coffee, one which he added plenty of cream and sugar to.

  “I know, me either. I was too worked up about the fight with Brett.”

  “What fight?” Kelly Hawthorn asked while stepping into the kitchen.

  “Ah it wasn’t really a fight,” Jimmy said.

  “Yeah, Brett Murphy snagged Jimmy’s bike while he was taking a break from riding and we went and got it back from him,” Alan said.

  “Was anyone hurt?” she asked.

  “No, well, maybe just Brett’s ego,” Jimmy said and then took a sip of coffee. “Ugh, god.”

  “Your brother made it,” Kelly said.

  “Hey, I’ve never made coffee before,” Alan protested. “It’s always ready when I get up.”

  “Tell him how many scoops of coffee you added.”

  “Ten.”

  “What?” Jimmy looked down at his cup. “It’s only supposed to be five, and that’s when you make a full pot.”

  “Yeah, well, I made us ten cups and thought that meant ten scoops.” Alan shrugged. “And I didn’t really think it tasted all that bad.”

  “Not that bad, it’s terrible. And how in the world did you fit ten scoops in that thing?” While asking this Jimmy noticed coffee grounds floating in his cup, which meant it probably hadn’t all fit.

  “I just kept pressing it down with my fingers.”

  Frustrated because coffee was the cornerstone of a good day, Jimmy set his cup down and said, “You could have just woken me up, I would have made it.”

  “I figured you wanted to sleep in after your bike ride last night.”

  “Another bike ride,” Kelly said. “Wow, you’re becoming quite the little athlete.”

  “Mom!”

  “Actually I think he’s riding a lot because he’s nervous about the prom,” Alan said.

  Jimmy watched as his mother’s eyes actually seemed to grow while also slig
htly popping forward. “Jimmy Hawthorn,” she said while crossing her arms, “you have been hiding a girl from us.”

  Jimmy could feel himself blushing, one which turned into a glare when he looked at Alan.

  “You should see them together, Mom, they make the perfect couple. They even sit together at lunch and walk home together and sometimes they bump into each other on the way to school too and get all shy.”

  “How sweet,” Kelly said. “What’s her name?”

  “Tina,” Alan said.

  “Well Jimmy, I think you should invite Tina over for dinner one of these nights so we can meet her.”

  “No!”

  “Mom, remember how he used to always say he would never fall in love with anyone, or marry anyone or ever date anyone.”

  “I do and now I really have to meet this girl.”

  Thanks a lot Alan, Jimmy said to himself while dumping his coffee in the sink. “Mom, can I borrow the car for a moment so I can get some good coffee?”

  “Oh, honey, I have to leave for work soon.”

  “I’ll be really quick.”

  “How about you guys get ready for school and I’ll swing you by McDonalds and then drop you off.”

  “Oh man,” Alan said while looking down at his nearly empty bowl. “I just ate.”

  “Oh, look at the tears rolling down my cheeks,” Jimmy said to his brother while pointing at his own face, and then to his mother, “That would be great.”

  Ten minutes later the three were heading toward McDonalds. Eventually Jimmy would realize he hadn’t thought about Samantha once while in the car, nor what had happened the night before. In fact, it wasn’t until he was at school, quickly finishing his bacon, egg and cheese bagel, and drinking his large, five cream five sugar, coffee that he started to think about it, his mind wondering how many of the guys around him had to still fantasize about being with girls whereas he now knew what it was like. Even better, he didn’t have to wine and dine them in hopes of luring them into bed. Instead he just had to be in the mood.

 

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