Night With Mommy

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Night With Mommy Page 92

by Sofia Connor


  "And then what?"

  "And then your Uncle Jack will pay your ransom."

  "Will I be around for that?"

  I wonder what will become of my body if my fate is to die today. Will he throw me into a dumpster? Will I be dumped on the roadside? Or will my corpse be hidden so masterfully that I will rot alone, never visited by the few people who are dear to me?

  "I will take you down before it is too late."

  There is no reason to delay the inevitable. I step up onto the footstool, reaching eye level with Faceless. He places the noose around my neck and pulls it tight. The knot is on my left, next to the angle of my mandible The hemp strands dig into my skin. I fight back an urge to try to free my hands and claw at my neck.

  My body will only fall a few inches after he has made me airborne. The shorter the drop, the less chance that my neck will break. But I may rue that shards of my cervical vertebrae haven't been driven into my brain stem to cause my instant demise if I instead end up strangling under my own weight.

  I plant a kiss on his lips. Our mouths open and our tongues wrap around one another as I enjoy what might be my last passionate kiss. His arms engulf me and we kiss until we run out of air.

  He does not let go when our lips break apart. I rest precariously in his arms with a noose around my neck, ready to plunge into oblivion.

  "Don't let me go," I plead.

  "I must. Your captivity must be brought to an end."

  He releases me from his embrace. I teeter on the footstool and he steadies me.

  He bends over and I watch him wrap another cord around a leg of the footstool and tie a slipknot. Turning his back, he leaves his victim alone, perched on the seat of a footstool, no more than a foot in diameter. I watch the slack go out of the tether he carries away in his hand. But even if he does nothing, at some point my legs will tire and no longer support me. And then the noose will catch my neck, saving him the trouble of jerking away the support from beneath my feet.

  I watch him amble over to the camera. In no hurry to bring my life to an end, eternity passes as he covers the distance. After taking more time to examine the device and make sure it is in working order, his long slender index finger extends and pushes a button, causing a red light to flash on. Realizing that I am being recorded, I stare blankly into the lens. On a table next to the camera lies a brown piece of cardboard onto which he prints my script in large letters with a black felt pen.

  "I am going to be hanged because you're too cheap to ransom me," the star of the gruesome scene announces, reading the words on the sign he holds up.

  I watch Faceless pull taut the cord attached to the leg of the footstool. I need a blindfold. I want my life to be over an instant after he pulls my perch from beneath me. But nothing happens.

  I fidget on my scaffold. My heart pounds. Tears streak down my face. I am glad not to be wearing makeup.

  I say nothing. I close my eyes, ready for the lethal jerk on my neck. Still he does not hang me.

  I open my eyes and regard my captor. His eyes are not on me but are fixed on the end of the cord in his hands. I watch him chew on his lower lip. It is the first time Faceless has shown indecision.

  He walks back to the camera and presses a button. The red light goes off.

  Wordlessly, he returns to the footstool on which I am perched. His eyes meet mine and I flash a smile. He surveys me and his gaze rests on my bosom.

  He shakes his head and turns away. I sense anger as he paces around the dank cellar, his shadow shrinking and lengthening as he passes through the illumination shed by the one shadeless ceiling light.

  Is he angry with himself for falling in love? Or is he faulting himself for not being strong enough to bring this to an end?

  "Please let me down!"

  My words echo from the concrete walls in the empty cellar. Faceless stops in his tracks, pivoting to face me. He exhales, evidently relieved that I have not fallen from my perch and broken my neck.

  But in his attempt to create turmoil in the idyllic life of the obscenely rich family which had wronged his father, he instead has only managed to inflict terror on its only guileless member. Selling me back to my lousy kinfolk or killing me will make no difference, he may now realize. Those who wronged his family can neither be redeemed or punished in this life.

  My faceless captor strides over to my makeshift gallows and disappears behind me. I stand frozen like a statue, expecting him wrap his arms around my torso, jerk me off the stool, and break my neck. Instead, I feel blood rush to my hands as he loosens the cord around my wrists.

  The cord drops away and my hands are free. Tears stream down my face and as soon as his faceless lips are within reach I plant mine on his. My arms encircle his torso and I draw him close to me, no longer even noticing the noose encircling my neck.

  When our lips break apart, he walks over to the camera, removes it from the tripod, and then returns to his victim. He presses a button and I see myself in the viewfinder, standing helplessly with a rope around my neck, uttering what I was afraid would be my last words.

  "Do you think it was good enough? Do you think it will make him pay?"

  I shake my head no, convinced that my demise is in my relatives best interest, thinking my kidnapping has been a godsend to my avaricious family.

  He frowns and the my image disappears from the screen as the viewfinder goes dark. He lifts his right hand to raise the mask from his face and I turn my back to him.

  "No, I don't want to know who you are. If I ever get out of here, I don't want to have to identify you."

  "Why? You'll know who I am sooner or later. I'm not going to get away with this. I don't even care about the money. This is about making certain people squirm, so they feel like the rest of us.

  "Some people use the law to right a wrong. But the law failed my dad. All that is left for me is to wreak havoc. But having made you suffer, I feel no closer to justice."

  "I won't help them find you."

  "You'll feel different about me when you're free."

  "When will that be?"

  "I don't know. Goddamn it, I don't know!"

  "I think I love you."

  "I know you do. That's why I couldn't hang you."

  "Were you going to cut me down?"

  He does not answer.

  "You were going to kill me, weren't you?"

  "I just told you. I couldn't hang you."

  "But when you put me up here, it was to kill me, wasn't it?'

  "It was going on too long, I mean, you being here. If they didn't pay the money, they had to pay the price. Otherwise, bringing you here would have made no sense."

  "Then go ahead, hang me! Get your goddamned revenge!"

  "You're not the right one to suffer."

  "They're my flesh and blood! One of us is as bad as another!"

  I break into tears and sob. He tries to embrace me and I lose my balance. As I teeter, the noose catches my neck. I do not resist when Faceless catches me.

  Our lips meet. My mouth opens. I can't help but feel passion for the monster who was ready to kill me. Our tongues wrestle. My pussy moistens and I long for it to accommodate the thing between Faceless's legs again.

  "Please let me live, I want to feel your love forever!"

  He opens his trousers and lowers them to his thighs, exposing his rigid cock. His hands tear away my white bikini bottom, ripping the fabric, so I am standing bottomless on the stool. I am then lifted away, seized by fear that he has finally decided to end my life. Instead, the strong hands clasping my buttocks impale me on his rigid cock. I sigh as he enters me.

  He throws me up and down and as my arousal builds he pulls me away from the hook in the ceiling to which my neck is tethered by the noose. My torso falls backward and the ligature catches my throat. As he pulls me up and down his shaft my neck stretches and the noose tightens, stifling my wind.

  With my fingers I try in vain to loosen the ligature around my neck, but as my arousal builds I am distracted an
d my efforts cease. I find myself stroking my lover's arm, the only part of him available to me, as I take the little gasps that are allowed to me each time before he slams me onto his cock. When we are ready to orgasm, he moves beneath the hook in the ceiling and wraps his arms around my torso.

  A huge breath of sweet air enters my lungs before we kiss. Our mouths are an amphitheatre for our tongues as they dance together to the symphony of our love. I cum just as he spills his seed into me and I rest my chin on his shoulder, revelling in post orgasmic bliss as I wonder what is to become of me.

  ********

  An hour later I am resting on the cot in my cell. He has left the door wide open but the manacle clamped around my right ankle tethers me to a concrete block. My hands are folded on my stomach as I lay naked, pondering how I will be disposed of.

  The noose still dangles from the hook in the ceiling and the three legged stool that was my perch remains directly beneath it. How long my reprieve will last, I do not know.

  The cellar door opens. Faceless appears. In one of his hands is a glass of amber colored liquid. The other hand bears white cords and another ski mask.

  Exhausted, I don't even bother to sit up. He can kill me or fuck me. I no longer care. I realize he was right. My captivity has gone on too long.

  He places the glass on the little table in my cell that I have made my vanity. I smell whiskey and wonder if I am about to take my last drink, a soporific before I am sent into oblivion. From his pocket he produces a medicine bottle and dumps two white pills onto my palm.

  "Valium," he explains.

  I stare at the two white pills. I should have been given them before he decided to hang me, I think.

  "Twenty milligrams of Valium and the the two shots of scotch in this glass should put you out for a while. There'll be a fair distance between me and the cops before anyone finds you."

  I take a sip of the scotch. It's good. Whether I'm going to die or not, I deserve a treat.

  "Or when I pass out you can just put a pillow over my face and not have to watch me struggle."

  "The only thing I can honestly promise is that this is going to end today."

  I take another sip of scotch. It makes me feel alive as it burns going down.

  "I'm going to have to tie you. And then you'll have a ride in the trunk of my vehicle. Now please take the pills."

  "What if I don't? Do you have the guts to kill me?"

  "No, I don't."

  I throw the pills into my mouth, take a gulp of scotch, and swallow my sedative. I sit up and undo my lover's fly. His semi-erect cock flops out and my right hand encircles it.

  I stroke his organ until it becomes rigid. His eyes light up and the corners of his mouth curl into a smile as I open my mouth wide. My lips slide over the shaft and my tongue grazes the frenulum of his rigid organ as I aim to satisfy him one more time.

  My head goes up and down as my tongue and lips excite him. I know nothing I do will alter my fate; I must just do what feels right. I am almost unconscious from the drugs and the liquor when he explodes in my mouth, but I do not cease my efforts to make his orgasm memorable, slathering my tongue over the corona, just beneath the glans penis, as my mouth fills up with his cum.

  I expel his cock from my mouth and fall back onto the cot. He tosses me on my side, and I am vaguely aware of a cord being wrapped around my wrists as he secures my arms behind my back. I doze and upon drifting back to consciousness, find that a piece of tape has sealed my lips. Everything becomes dark as a ski mask covers my face. My ankles are bound with another cord, the manacle pops loose from my ankle, I am gathered into the sheet, and carried out of the cell.

  ******

  I awaken, but it is not the noise of a motor and tires grinding against concrete that has disturbed my slumber. The siren of a police car blares as I am tossed back and forth in the trunk of a car transporting me to who knows where.

  The tires explode as Faceless is forced to drive over the barrier the police have set up to end the chase. My head strikes the back of the trunk as the vehicle decelerates, forcing from me a muffled scream.

  The car stops and the door opens.

  "Put the gun down!" an unfamiliar voice demands.

  A single shot followed by a volley of gunshots rings out.

  "Call an ambulance!" the unfamiliar voice commands.

  I now know that my ordeal is over.

  The End.

  Waking Up

  Waking up she rolled over and her arm crossed his chest. She kissed his shoulder and repositioned her leg over his. Nestled between his legs she felt 'him' against her thigh a not uncommon feeling for they had always been intimate and close when sleeping together.

  Almost involuntarily her hand began stroking his chest feeling the muscles which were emerging as he'd started working recently. The results were already making themselves known, while his tummy still had work to be done his chest, arms and legs were showing signs of the paces they'd been put through and were both a bit larger, and much firmer than only 4 short weeks ago and she was appreciative not only for the new feel, but for his determination to be a better man with her in his life. The strokes became more a squeeze as she enjoyed the new muscle, and then she stroked lower...

  His tummy wasn't large, really. In fact she liked her men with some 'meat' on them, preferring them to the lanky Ethiopian marathon runner physique. It was more a source of concern for him than her and she touched it lovingly. A light crop of hair covered his belly and continued on down to his pubic region which he kept trimmed rather than letting it grow into a forest which she'd never preferred, or shaving it completely which similarly was a turn off for her. Playing here for a moment, feeling both his roundness and the beginnings of his pelvic region, her pinky finger touched the tip of 'him'. Smiling to herself she was pleased with this touch and, circling his belly more she made a point of just touching him with each downward stroke.

  She loved the feeling of him touching the top part of her hand as she did this. It was somehow more erotic to her than holding him right now though she knew already that this is where her ministrations were headed. For a moment she lingered there, his cock laying on top of her hand as she twirled her fingers around his pubic hair. It was growing harder and she could feel it twitch just a bit as it grew. A man's growth had always been a source of amazement for her. How something sometimes so small and almost insignificant, could grow into something so strong and unyielding, and then, after she had made him reach his point of ecstasy, soften again in her hand, or more often her mouth, was nothing less than a miracle in her mind.

  Once again she circled his stomach and this time, when she reached the nether region, rather than sliding underneath him she stroked lightly over his girth and slid her hand downward touching also his sac before circling around again. This she did a few times, and with each stroke, she felt him grow, felt his engorgement, felt her own desire intensify until now she was stroking 'him' lightly with her whole hand. Thumb on one side and fingers lightly touching him on the other she closed her eyes and examined 'him' with her fingers. Stroking from the base on up to the tip and down again to his testicles first touching them lightly and on the next stroke cupping them with her hand.

  She kissed her way down his chest as she held 'him' in her hand still stroking. Down to his belly, kissing him lightly as she dropped her head until finally she was where she wanted to be.

  Michelle loved that part of a man. Adored it, the softness and the hardness of 'him'. And she loved not only touching it with her hand, but feeling it on her face. Kissing 'him' first, she lay next to him and moved his cock over her face touching her cheeks, her closed eyes, her nose, her lips. The smell was intoxicating to her. The wetness which emanated from the tip was nectar. The touch was almost enough for her to have an orgasm without ever having had sex. And with this man more than with any other man previously in her life. She didn't know what it was about him that was so different, but she recognized that he was, and she loved this feeling
.

  She placed him on the tip of her lips and opened them slightly, her tongue tasting the wetness there, her nostrils breathing in his scent and her mind wandered for a moment. His scent was different from others. Similar but different. His was one which had pungency to it. Clean, healthy, with a slight hint of the air around salt water sprayed up in the wind. And she wondered momentarily if she could name the various men who'd been in her life from their aromas. And then it went away again. Wrapping her lips around his head she kissed him lightly at first and then deeper. Pulling off him she ran her tongue down the side and up again, and again, and again before pulling him into her mouth once more.

  He was most certainly awake now, his slumber having been pleasantly interrupted by her attentions. Knowing her, and enjoying the knowing, he moved only slightly putting his hands behind his head and breathing in deeply.

  She felt this breath and smiled to herself as her mouth made love to him. Going as deeply as she could and then pulling back, trailing her tongue along the underside of his girth. Rolling her tongue on the tip and then going down again. Michelle loved trying to make it all the way down his shaft but hadn't yet learned the art of deep throat. She stopped as she hit the gag reflex but tried again, pressing forward until she almost made it to the hilt. She was proud of her progress and smiled at herself again.

  Wanting to go faster, she knew that his preference was for slower, deliberate strokes and she accommodated him, gifting him with her mouth. Holding his sac in her hand she massaged him lightly as she worked his length.

  She felt his hands as they now guided her head on him. Holding her hair tightly and moving with her rather than forcing her on him which was their habit when sex was more primitive, gutteral, and urgent. This morning was not that type of sex. It was truly her present to him and he knew it. His eyes were closed as he concentrated on her ministrations and he felt his own urgency rising. He breathed deeply and held it there and she knew that his climax was coming. Now the choice was hers, to take it in her mouth. To taste his seed that she so enjoyed, or, to withdraw and have his semen spread across her cheeks, nose, eyes, mouth. She loved them both but a choice had to be made. The choice was an easy one. He loved it when she held him in her mouth until he softened and this morning that is what she would do. And it happened.

 

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