Brushing back her hair, the young woman turned to one side and straightened her back, admiring her hour-glass figure. The curve of her legs apparent even though they were covered by the straight-lined business suit.
Slipping a shoulder bag over her arm, Linda hurried from the house. It wouldn't be easy certainly not as easy as it was to get picked up by him. Why had she done something as stupid as that? Why had she risked everything she'd worked so hard for… a trucker, especially one like Max?
And he had hurt her. This morning she awoke and felt the stiffness still in her arms and legs. The marks, thank God, had faded somewhat on her ass cheeks and lower back. Apparently the beating hadn't been quite as bad as she thought.
As the woman guided her car off the San Bernadino Freeway onto Harbor Avenue in downtown L.A., she remembered how she had become a wild sex maniac, twisting in her bonds, loving the cuffs binding her wrists, enjoying the chafing sensation of the ropes around her ankles while Max oh God, he had pissed and shit on her! Stopping at a light, Linda covered her face with one hand, feeling shame creep over her. Why had she done something so foul, so perverted?
"Oh!" Several cars were honking. The light had turned green. Stepping on the gas, she turned down Olympic, heading for the warehouse district.
Max would be there, leaning on the counter in the deserted bar, drinking his damned beer. Spotting his truck on the corner, Linda swallowed hard and pulled to one side of the narrow street. She had to do it… for herself, for Janice.
"Please, try to understand, Max."
Linda sat by the bar, keeping her hands from the sticky, stained counter as she pleaded with the drunk trucker.
Max was holding his beer carelessly in one hand, the bottom of the bottle resting against one of his thighs. He'd been listening to Linda's argument for the past fifteen minutes, panting at times to indicate that at least several of her words had touched one or two of his brain cells. His broad chest rippled under his stained white T-shirt when she mentioned her niece and bow she wanted to protect Janice from anything bad.
"Bad?" he echoed, raising his eyebrows and smiling at her.
Linda dropped her eyes, wishing in a way she hadn't come. One or two of Max's friends were playing pool behind them. There was hardly anyone in tbe bar. Even the man behind the counter had disappeared with the cocktail waitress probably fucking in the back, Linda thought as she finished with her argument. There wouldn't be much more to his. Max might protest. But she wasn't going to back down. She even came prepared to offer him some money if he'd only leave her alone.
"So, you think you can get rid of old Max like some kind of dirty laundry, right?"
The words were loud and made her jump. Carefully, the attractive blonde, shifted her sitting position and glanced at his two friends. They had stopped playing pool and were now leaning against the table, scratching their dirty necks with their cue sticks. The air seemed to grow thicker, and more foul than it had been when she first stepped in. Linda began to sweat.
"That's not exactly what I mean, Max," Linda protested. She wanted to get up and run. But would she be able to make it to the door? What a stupid thought.
This was a public place. Max wouldn't dare try something with her here – not in front of all these witnesses!
"That's what it sounds like. Baby, you don't into my place, in front of my friends, and dump me likesome load of shit," Max whispered, jerking one hand out and curling bis fingers around her waist.
Linda winced in pain, biting her tongue to keep from crying out.
"You're hurting… me, Max," Linda whispered as she tried to twist free.
"You don't get rid of me, understand? You try, and I'm gonna make you real sorry you and your niece were ever born," Max threatened.
He narrowed his eyes. His lips were tightly drawn while his nostrils flared.
"I don't have a choice, Max," Linda protested again, gasping softly as Max tightened his grip. His fingers were like the iron bands of the cuffs he'd used on her yesterday. She leaned forward against the counter, just about ready to scream for help.
"I said you're my woman and you're gonna stay that way 'til I'm good and through with you, bitch, understand?"
His voice was loud, his words slurred from all the beer he'd been drinking. Linda saw his two buddies smirking at her from behind the pool table. Pain shot up from her wrist to her shoulder and neck. He was going to break her hand! Her breathing became labored as she jerked back.
The bartender came out from behind the kitchen area, zipping up his pants and spotting what appeared to be a fight starting between Linda and Max.
"Hey, Max, you control your lady friend. Don't start messin' around here," he said, raising his voice while squaring his shoulders.
Max had been caught. With a growl he released Linda wiping his hands on the sides of his thighs while still staring angrily at the woman.
With the cocktail waitress coming out just behind the bartender Linda felt somewhat safer. Max's friends grumbled something then went back to playing their game.
"I don't think there's anything more to talk about, Max," Linda said, straightening her suit. It had been an awful scene, one that, however, she had expected.
"I don't want to see you. If you try anything, I'll call the police. And if you try spreading stories about what we've done, I'll deny them all. I'm not going to buckle under anymore Max."
Her words, made his face turn red. Linda somehow managed not to show how nervous she was as she checked her purse, fished out the keys, then turned and walked briskly from the bar.
She could feel Max's eyes burning into her neck as she pushed the door open and stepped into the daylight. God, how good it was to be free of him! In spite of the wonderful times they'd had in bed, Linda was beginning to become terrified of the trucker. And their last sex scene with all the beating and degradation had finally became too much for her to stand. There was a problem of self image. How could she stand to look at herself in the mirror when she knew she'd cum while Max pissed and shit on her? Even now the thought of what had happened that late afternoon sickened her, made her shiver with revulsion. Yes, it would be some time before she could come to terms with herself on that one.
Suddenly, behind her, she heard the sound of rapidly running steps. Linda turned around in time to see Max and one of his buddies rushing from the bar toward her.
Linda staggered back, her purse slipping from her shoulder and falling to the ground. She half turned, running with both hands stretched out. She wanted to scream, but her vocal cords were paralyzed with terror. Her legs seemed to refuse to move quickly enough. It was as if she were running through mud. It was the same kind of feeling she had when having a nightmare and trying to get away from some terrible thing chasing her.
"Get away from me, eh?" Max snarled, catching her by one hand and drawing her close to him.
Linda found her voice at that point and started to shout.
"Help! Oh God, he…!"
It was useless. Max reached around and pulled out a yellow handkerchief, stuffing the foul rag in her mouth while his friend moved around behind and held her hands pinned to her ass.
"Quick, get her inside the truck before somebody spots us," the buddy said.
"You're right, Sam."
The two men moved quickly, holding the struggling woman as best they could, half dragging her from the sidewalk behind several parked trucks. Max's truck was empty.
"Mrnmmmfffff!" Linda cried into the dirty handkerchief.
She tried to scratch Sam's hands as he held her arms tightly to her sides. At times she wheeled around, kicking back, nearly losing her balance in the attempt. But the men were strong and determined. They carried her quickly to a side door of the big truck, Max tiled holding her by himself. But Linda was quick to take advantage of the situation, breaking away partially and clawing her fingers across his face. Her nails left five long scratch marks on his left cheek, some of them oozing droplets of blood.