Page 9
Story: Power Term
Whatever happens next, whatever they want from me, I’ll hold on and wait for Trey.
I can do this. I’m the motherfucking president of the United States of America, and I will not bow down. I will not give up or give in.
These fuckers think they’ve already won no doubt.
Too bad for them, they don’t know how damn scrappy a girl from the trailer park can be.
I picture myself bursting out of these restraints and going all assassin on the assholes the moment they bust through the door. Like all those heroines do in the movies. I just need to channel my inner Beatrix and go allKill Bill.
If only I had a sword like hers in the movie. Oh, or a black mamba in my pocket. Maybe I should commission one and a secure traveling case for future abduction attempts. Hell, what a time for a unicorn army. All I’d have to yell is the code word “Impale,” and everyone trying to hurt me or those I love would die by unicorn stabbing.
“Fuck yeah,” I whisper to myself. “Impale. Impalement for them all.”
A heavy scraping sound echoes through the empty room, putting a pause on my vindictive thoughts and daydreams of becoming a killing machine. I survey what I can see of the room but come up empty. Straining to see what’s behind me, I jolt, the restraints holding my jerking body in place, at the bang of what sounds like a heavy door slamming shut.
A soft squelch, like rubber shoes against a slick surface, causes the hair to rise along the back of my neck and down both arms. My chest shakes with the ramming pound of my heart. Fear clogs my throat and steals the breath from my lungs.
Closer and closer the even steps grow until they stop, still out of my line of sight. An eerie sense of being watched crawls across my skin. Jerking against the restraints, I attempt to angle my body to the side and for a better angle to see who’s lurking behind me, but I can’t.
Frustrated, I flop back prone on the table. “What do you want?” I growl like a wild animal as I test the restraints once again. Now would be a grand time for the plastic ties to somehow weaken on their own, allowing me to break free and play out the massacre I plotted moments ago.
My question receives no response. Blood rushes in my ears, making it difficult to hear anything, but still I strain to listen, not wanting to be snuck up on. Something moves directly behind me, casting a long shadow across my face and chest.
Chin in the air, I strain my neck, arching as far as I can to look behind me.
Ice licks down my spine as an unfamiliar set of uncaring eyes locks with my own.
“Please,” I beg. “What do you want? Let me go.”
A harsh chuckle escapes his lips as he reaches closer to fist a thick handful of my dark hair, his short jagged nails scraping across my scalp. I cry out, my hands fighting to be free and help alleviate the pressure. With a painful yank, he jerks my face forward, my chin slamming into my collarbone, severing my visual of the man. A pitiful whimper escapes as cool, rough fingers firmly trace along the edges of my trembling upper lip before moving to the lower. The scents of dried blood, gunpowder, and onion infiltrate my nostrils, evoking my gag reflex. Not wanting him to see how much his proximity and touch terrify me, I restrain the sob that’s desperate to escape.
Those same two fingers shove between my lips, forcing them apart and invading my mouth. I thrash my head, attempting to dislodge them as he thrusts them deeper. I gag, revolting against the intrusion, but the hold on my hair tightens, keeping me at his mercy. Something hard presses against the crown of my skull. Up and down it rubs against my hair as his fingers mimic the movement inside my mouth.
My attempt to scream is choked back as he forces another finger into my already full mouth. Jaw straining, tears flow as saliva drips from the corners of my mouth and down my neck.
“Just prepping your fuckable mouth for my big cock to shove down it. I want to feel you choke on my dick until you can’t breathe.”
Revulsion sends a shudder down my spine, but there’s nothing I can do to make him stop.
Then it does.
The fingers are ripped from my mouth, and his unimpressive dick stops humping my head. I scream in pain as chunks of hair rip from my scalp as the hand still gripping it is jerked backward.
Heaving for breath, weeping, and trembling all over, I almost miss the hushed words said somewhere behind me.
“I told you the rules,” someone, a male, states.
“Fuck you. We’re not partners. This is a onetime deal between us. You can’t tell me what to do. I risked my life helping you get that woman, and now I’m going to reap my rewards.”
“I paid you plenty.”
“Well, unlike you I always play with my toys before I destroy them. We’re not all fucked in the head like you, you damn freak.”
I hold my breath, waiting for the other man’s response.
“I wanted to wait until later to do this, but you’ve pushed my hand.” A soft pop of air has me stiffening at the distinct sound of a gun fired with a silencer. “Fucking hell, I hate carrying dead bodies. This is why I wanted to wait.” The distinct click of a man’s dress shoes draws closer. “That is now two of my so-called acquaintances you owe me for.” I jerk at the voice, its somewhat familiar low, rough tone. “Maybe I should make you carry him instead.”
“Why am I here?” My voice shakes, giving away the utter terror engulfing my every thought and cell.
I can do this. I’m the motherfucking president of the United States of America, and I will not bow down. I will not give up or give in.
These fuckers think they’ve already won no doubt.
Too bad for them, they don’t know how damn scrappy a girl from the trailer park can be.
I picture myself bursting out of these restraints and going all assassin on the assholes the moment they bust through the door. Like all those heroines do in the movies. I just need to channel my inner Beatrix and go allKill Bill.
If only I had a sword like hers in the movie. Oh, or a black mamba in my pocket. Maybe I should commission one and a secure traveling case for future abduction attempts. Hell, what a time for a unicorn army. All I’d have to yell is the code word “Impale,” and everyone trying to hurt me or those I love would die by unicorn stabbing.
“Fuck yeah,” I whisper to myself. “Impale. Impalement for them all.”
A heavy scraping sound echoes through the empty room, putting a pause on my vindictive thoughts and daydreams of becoming a killing machine. I survey what I can see of the room but come up empty. Straining to see what’s behind me, I jolt, the restraints holding my jerking body in place, at the bang of what sounds like a heavy door slamming shut.
A soft squelch, like rubber shoes against a slick surface, causes the hair to rise along the back of my neck and down both arms. My chest shakes with the ramming pound of my heart. Fear clogs my throat and steals the breath from my lungs.
Closer and closer the even steps grow until they stop, still out of my line of sight. An eerie sense of being watched crawls across my skin. Jerking against the restraints, I attempt to angle my body to the side and for a better angle to see who’s lurking behind me, but I can’t.
Frustrated, I flop back prone on the table. “What do you want?” I growl like a wild animal as I test the restraints once again. Now would be a grand time for the plastic ties to somehow weaken on their own, allowing me to break free and play out the massacre I plotted moments ago.
My question receives no response. Blood rushes in my ears, making it difficult to hear anything, but still I strain to listen, not wanting to be snuck up on. Something moves directly behind me, casting a long shadow across my face and chest.
Chin in the air, I strain my neck, arching as far as I can to look behind me.
Ice licks down my spine as an unfamiliar set of uncaring eyes locks with my own.
“Please,” I beg. “What do you want? Let me go.”
A harsh chuckle escapes his lips as he reaches closer to fist a thick handful of my dark hair, his short jagged nails scraping across my scalp. I cry out, my hands fighting to be free and help alleviate the pressure. With a painful yank, he jerks my face forward, my chin slamming into my collarbone, severing my visual of the man. A pitiful whimper escapes as cool, rough fingers firmly trace along the edges of my trembling upper lip before moving to the lower. The scents of dried blood, gunpowder, and onion infiltrate my nostrils, evoking my gag reflex. Not wanting him to see how much his proximity and touch terrify me, I restrain the sob that’s desperate to escape.
Those same two fingers shove between my lips, forcing them apart and invading my mouth. I thrash my head, attempting to dislodge them as he thrusts them deeper. I gag, revolting against the intrusion, but the hold on my hair tightens, keeping me at his mercy. Something hard presses against the crown of my skull. Up and down it rubs against my hair as his fingers mimic the movement inside my mouth.
My attempt to scream is choked back as he forces another finger into my already full mouth. Jaw straining, tears flow as saliva drips from the corners of my mouth and down my neck.
“Just prepping your fuckable mouth for my big cock to shove down it. I want to feel you choke on my dick until you can’t breathe.”
Revulsion sends a shudder down my spine, but there’s nothing I can do to make him stop.
Then it does.
The fingers are ripped from my mouth, and his unimpressive dick stops humping my head. I scream in pain as chunks of hair rip from my scalp as the hand still gripping it is jerked backward.
Heaving for breath, weeping, and trembling all over, I almost miss the hushed words said somewhere behind me.
“I told you the rules,” someone, a male, states.
“Fuck you. We’re not partners. This is a onetime deal between us. You can’t tell me what to do. I risked my life helping you get that woman, and now I’m going to reap my rewards.”
“I paid you plenty.”
“Well, unlike you I always play with my toys before I destroy them. We’re not all fucked in the head like you, you damn freak.”
I hold my breath, waiting for the other man’s response.
“I wanted to wait until later to do this, but you’ve pushed my hand.” A soft pop of air has me stiffening at the distinct sound of a gun fired with a silencer. “Fucking hell, I hate carrying dead bodies. This is why I wanted to wait.” The distinct click of a man’s dress shoes draws closer. “That is now two of my so-called acquaintances you owe me for.” I jerk at the voice, its somewhat familiar low, rough tone. “Maybe I should make you carry him instead.”
“Why am I here?” My voice shakes, giving away the utter terror engulfing my every thought and cell.
Table of Contents
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