Love Lies Dying

by Steve Gerlach

  “I’ll get you a drink as soon as I’ve finished this.”

  Her eyes dropped to his side and she stepped back out of his sight.

  John followed her. Lifting his head until she came back into view, he followed her eyes and looked down at his left arm.

  He saw the gaping split where she had stabbed him.

  His stomach churned as he looked at the long scar stretching along his whole arm. But it didn’t look as bad now. The bleeding had stopped and the wound looked as if it had been cleaned; there were no bloodstains around the gash.

  And Zoe was sewing it shut.

  She had almost completed the stitches, with just a couple of inches of wound to go.

  John looked on passively, unable to believe that he was just sitting there watching someone sew up a wound that stretched from his shoulder to his wrist.

  And there was no pain at all.

  His whole arm was numb.

  Her eyes lifted and met his.

  “Sorry,” she smiled at him. “I got a bit carried away. I do that sometimes.”

  John smiled back.

  What else can I do?

  Just be very careful…don’t trust her!

  “You’re just lucky I could find this needle and thread,” she continued.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

  “It’s not the proper thread,” she continued matter-of-factly. “I could only find some old fishing wire. But I sterilised it before I used it. So it should be okay.”

  Fishing wire? John thought. My God! I’ve got to get out of here! Now!

  John rested his head back down again and tried to work out a plan.

  His left arm was numb and useless. His right arm felt okay, although his shoulder was still sore from being handcuffed to the Jeep. His head ached slightly, but he could live with the headache, and his neck wasn’t as stiff as it had been. His chest and body felt good, no longer numb now he was lying down and untied from the chair. The feeling had even come back into his legs.

  He could actually wriggle his toes once again.

  And that was when he first realised he was naked.

  Suddenly, panic gripped him. He tried to sit upright, but he couldn’t.

  Rope was tied tightly across his chest and legs, stopping him from moving. He lifted his head and stared down at his body.

  Naked.

  And oiled.

  He was tied to the old wooden table, pews on either side of him. Thin coils of rope were wrapped around his chest and hips, and then disappeared under the table. Another two coils were tied above and below his knees. His eyes travelled further down his body to his feet, which were both tied to a long metal bar that sat between them, keeping them a set distance apart.

  He tried to struggle; to sit up any way he could.

  But it was useless.

  He couldn’t move.

  “Don’t, Johnny,” Zoe said, still concentrating on finishing her stitches, a frown creasing her forehead. “I’m almost there. Don’t ruin it now.”

  John let his body go limp and he rested his head back on the hard wooden table.

  She’s crazy, he thought to himself. How can she talk to me like there’s nothing wrong? Like we’re having a normal everyday conversation?

  He had to get away from her.

  “There,” she said, touching his palm lightly. “All done.”

  John craned his neck and looked down at his left arm. The jagged wound was sewn shut now. The fishing wire snaked back and forth across the puffy red lips of the gash and finished in a small knot down by his wrist.

  “It should hold,” she said.

  “Should?” was all John could manage.

  “Lucky I had a friend who taught me how to do that, huh?” Zoe beamed at him. “I think I’ve done a terrific job.”

  John’s eyes moved back to his shoulder. He wanted to see what she had done to the stab wound she had inflicted there, but it was covered by some gauze and a bandage.

  “Don’t worry, Johnny,” she continued. “I took care of that too. It was quite a mess, but I fixed it all. Lucky you were unconscious. It was probably easier that way. There was a hell of a lot of blood.”

  His eyes went back to her face.

  She was smiling again.

  How can she smile at me?

  “I’ll get you that drink now.”

  She walked past his head and disappeared from view. John’s eyes went back to the ceiling and he tried to turn his body to the side, to somehow wriggle out from the ropes. But he couldn’t. They were tied too tight. Any movements he made just aggravated the wound on his chest. The ropes ran directly across the claw marks Zoe had left there on Saturday night.

  And now that the numbness was gone, he could feel every bit of pain.

  There has to be a way out of here!

  John heard the water spill into a glass behind him. He closed his eyes and listened as Zoe’s footsteps came closer.

  “Here, drink,” she said.

  He felt her hand under his head as she lifted him toward the glass. His lips touched the cold rim and then tasted the cool refreshing water. He found it hard to swallow at first, as if his neck muscles wouldn’t work. It took him a few tries, but eventually he emptied the glass.

  “Good boy,” she replied.

  John licked his lips and swallowed. The dryness in his throat was almost gone. He opened his eyes and saw her face upside down above him. She smiled at him once more. He tried to read what she was thinking, but he couldn’t work it out.

  This can’t be happening, he thought.

  Dangling from her neck was the gold half-heart pendant.

  And that brought it all back to John.

  He knew what was happening. And he seemed unable to do anything about it.

  He shut his eyes tight, wanting to wish her away. But he knew it wouldn’t work.

  Helen, what did he do to you? How long did Fox torture you? How much pain did you endure while he hurt you?

  But John pushed those thoughts aside. He had to. He had his own problems now. As if trying to avenge Helen’s death wasn’t enough, he now had a love-sick and unbalanced Zoe to contend with.

  Now she thought he was hers forever.

  She’s mad. Completely mad.

  Don’t pretend you don’t like the idea.

  I don’t.

  Come on, imagine it. Zoe with you, by your side.

  Stop it.

  She’d be all yours.

  No!

  Ready…and willing.

  Stop it.

  That’s what you were thinking about when you took her shopping on Saturday.

  No, it wasn’t.

  Now she’s all yours.

  Shut up!

  John opened his eyes again, hoping the light would shatter his thoughts.

  He looked around for Zoe, but he couldn’t see her.

  He sharpened his listening, trying to pinpoint her with sound.

  Nothing.

  It’s so hot in here.

  His eyes scanned the fireplace once more. The fire was still roaring, spreading its heat throughout the church, the wood crackling every so often in the silence.

  Beads of sweat continued trickling down his forehead.

  He realised the almond smell came from the oil massaged into his skin.

  He tried to move his right arm, but it was pinned under the ropes by his side. He pulled his feet to one side, trying to work them out of the ropes, but the bar between his ankles made movement almost impossible.

  I’m trapped.

  He didn’t want to give in, but there was little he could do in his current situation.

  Play her at her own game, go along with her. Maybe she’ll trust you then and let you go.

  Yeah, maybe.

  And you might even enjoy it a little.

  Stop it! Stop saying that!

  You know you want to.

  Helen’s dead, I can’t think like this.

  She’s dead, yeah.

  I can’t think li
ke this!

  She’s out of the way now.

  John shook his head from side to side. Trying hard to shake the thoughts from his mind.

  She’s out of the way. And you might enjoy it.

  “Zoe!” he yelled, his voice sounding panicked as it echoed around the church.

  He heard her footsteps ringing out on the floorboards. They sounded loud now, louder than ever, and were coming from the direction of the bathroom.

  He turned his head to the side and to the back, towards her footsteps. He watched her as she approached.

  His jaw dropped as she stopped in the middle of the church.

  She was almost naked, but she wasn’t.

  John stared at the outfit she was wearing. It was made of black leather, what there was of it, and it made her look as if she were wearing a large spider’s web. The leather straps went over her shoulders and under her arms, as well as around her hips. But between the straps was mostly bare skin.

  Strips of leather ran across and under her breasts, pushing them out and upwards, making them rounder and more compact.

  A circular piece of leather surrounded her belly button, highlighting it and making the diamond sitting there look like a bullseye. John couldn’t help staring there, the leather circle drew his attention to the centre of her stomach, exactly as it was supposed to.

  And then his eyes dropped lower.

  Two thin strands of leather ran from the circular belly button section and down between her legs.

  It left her exposed. Her shaved mound open and easily viewable from where John lay.

  She was much taller now too, due to the eight inch black leather stiletto-heeled boots she was wearing.

  John followed the boots from the ground and up her legs.

  He looked at her vagina again and had trouble looking away.

  She was oiled too. Her body shining in the glow from the fire.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  In spite of himself, he found he was growing hard.

  Zoe tilted her head to one side and smiled.

  “Don’t say anything, Johnny,” she said. “You’ve already answered my question.”

  Her eyes stayed fixed on his hardening cock. There was nothing he could do to stop it. It was an automatic response to looking at her.

  She looked unbelievable.

  Shut your eyes then, don’t look!

  But he couldn’t. He had to.

  She looked stunning.

  His eyes were split between looking at the diamond in her belly button and the moist folds between her legs.

  God, she’s a stunner.

  She placed her hands on her hips, “Okay, I know you want to tell me. So, what do you think?”

  John didn’t know what to say. His mind raced.

  “Impressive,” was all he could manage.

  She bowed.

  “Why, thank you, Johnny. I always dress to impress.”

  She smiled, turned around and walked towards the beds at the far end of the church.

  John watched her as she walked.

  The leather straps that had disappeared between her legs came together and ran between the cheeks of her arse, like a thong, before continuing up her back and forming one long strip of leather where the other strips from her arms and hips ended. John noticed the small bandage on the top of Zoe’s left buttock and wondered what it was, before he remembered that she had cut herself when Fox had called her at his home.

  She walked past the railings and bent over when she got to the beds.

  The leather between her arse cheeks pulled tighter, opening them to his view. From the way she was standing, he could see the parted lips of her vagina. Moist and warm and welcoming.

  John’s eyes darted to his cock. It was bobbing in the air, pulsing frantically. Shining in the glow of the raging fire.

  She’s oiled me there too? he thought to himself. When? When did she have time to lift me from the chair, undress me, oil me, clean my wounds and tie me to the table? Just how long was I unconscious?

  His eyes swung across to Zoe as she walked back towards him, her footsteps echoing around them.

  There was nothing he could do.

  She’s just so beautiful…and so eager.

  She smiled at him a little lopsided smile as she approached. Both her hands were behind her back as she walked closer.

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked him again.

  He nodded his head as she came closer.

  “Good,” she replied. “You want a drink of water?”

  He nodded.

  She stopped by the table and looked down at him. The half-heart pendant dropped forward from her chest. It hung there in the air, as a constant reminder of Helen and what had happened to her.

  John could also feel his own chain around his neck.

  I’m so sorry. John thought. But I have no other choice.

  “Really thirsty?”

  John nodded again.

  “I’ll give you something better than water,” she replied as she bent over and ran her tongue around his ear.

  She straightened herself up and brought her right hand over his chest. He felt the soft touch as it ran down his body.

  He lifted his head and saw the riding crop in her hand. It was black and looked oiled too. The tip was made of leather.

  “You’re going to enjoy this,” she whispered, as she passed the tip of the crop over the head of his pulsing cock.

  His eyes came back and locked on to hers; deep and brown, they engulfed him once again.

  There’s no escape.

  “I appreciate the beauty of a fine whip, Johnny,” she said in a low husky tone as the whip fluttered down his shaft and around his balls.

  “And so will you.”

  He closed his eyes.

  I’m sorry, my love. So sorry.

  Thirty-eight

  His stomach rumbled loudly.

  “You’re hungry,” she whispered as they lay side by side on the table.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “There’s no food here. I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that. I’ll have to go and get some.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll survive a while longer,” he replied, running a hand through her hair.

  He stared across her bare shoulder at the sunlight as it shone through the windows.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” he said.

  “I know.”

  His eyes fell to the fireplace. The fire was almost out and he was beginning to get cold. The waning heat from the sunlight was the only thing keeping them warm, apart from their own body heat.

  They were glued together by their own juices, sweat, oil and semen.

  John closed his eyes and stroked her hair with his right hand.

  It was a small victory, but she had loosened the ropes around his chest so he could get his right arm free.

  Slowly, I’m getting there.

  “I don’t want to move from your side,” she muttered.

  “Then don’t.”

  “Can we lie here a while longer?”

  “Yes.”

  She snuggled further into his body. He felt her lips brush his shoulder, her legs rub against his hips.

  And then he thought back.

  Hours had passed. The setting sun proved that they had spent all afternoon together. But where they had been, time meant nothing.

  She had climbed up onto the table and stood above him. She’d placed one foot on each side of his head and let him stare up her long legs to the folds between them.

  “I know what you want, Johnny,” she had said. “This is what you’ve been denying yourself for so long. Why say no to this?”

  He was in no position to struggle or fight her.

  He wasn’t sure he even wanted to anymore.

  He wasn’t going to get away from here without playing her game. And he did need her help if she was going to lead him to Fox. She was his only connection to the bastard who killed Helen.

  “I know yo
u’re thirsty,” she continued in her deep husky voice as she slowly bent into a squatting position. “And I know what you’re thirsty for.”

  She was just inches from his face now. He could smell her, see every detail of her folds, her labia, her glistening pink insides, and her ass.

  So close.

  Her hand reached between her legs and unfastened a black stud on the back of her outfit. The leather straps between her legs fell away. She unfastened another black stud on the front and removed the leather between her legs completely. She let the leather fall to the floor.

  “You want me?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. He just stared at the beauty before him.

  “I know you do. Your cock tells me.”

  He lifted his head slightly, trying to reach between her legs.

  She lifted herself up, out of his reach.

  “Uh-uh, not that easy,” she said to him.

  He rested his head back down.

  The oil shined off her lips and folds; he studied the small pucker of her anus. She was so wet and inviting.

  “You want me?” she said again, as she lowered herself back down. “If you do, say it.”

  John had no choice.

  I have to.

  “I want you,” he whispered.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “I want you.”

  “Louder.”

  “I want you!” he yelled. His voice echoed around the church.

  There was a pause.

  Then Zoe lowered herself onto his face.

  “Good boy,” she said. “I knew you did.”

  He was covered by her folds. Smothered by her.

  His tongue shot forward and buried itself deep in her. He searched inside her, wanting to feel everything; her soft, silky sides, her wet flaps and folds, her dark tangy interior.

  He tongued her with passion. Searching out and finding her hard clitoris and rubbing back and forth, swirling around her nub, sucking on it.

  She rocked slowly back and forth on his face, moaning deeply to herself, running her hands down his chest and stomach.

  Her juices flowed quicker now, dripping into his mouth and spilling from it, trickling down the side of his face. She was wet and slippery and so good.

  Her anus rocked back and forth in front of his eyes, puckering and quivering as her passion built.

  “You shouldn’t deny yourself,” she whispered to him.

  He could feel her hands down the side of his stomach, moving towards his hips. They reached further down as she bent forward, her arse tilting more and thrusting her clitoris back onto his tongue. Her nails scraped along the sides of his thighs. Then they traced a path up over his legs and down between them.