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.