("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text ------------------------------------------------------- Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under 16 in real life. ------------------------------------------------------- DumbGirl by MeatBot (no address provided) *** A teenage girl is held prisoner by some psycho she meets online. (M/f-teen, nc, rp, msm mc) *** Author's Note: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is accidental and would be damn surprising. Be warned that this story may involve explicit descriptions of sexual activities, including some defined under law as "Weird Shit". Do not read this story if you believe that fictional characters should not have fictional sex, or if you are less than the age of consent in your social or legal group, or if you live under a repressive, totalitarian regime in an out-of-the-way place such as the USA. If you like it, I did it. If you hate it, I didn't. If it offends you, it was a misprint. If you want to sue me, I don't exist. Sue the internet instead. Nobody's twisting your arm. Leave if you don't like crap like this. These are just words, people. Just words. Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of misspelled words. I am not an English major. Deal with it. This story is all made up. Except I did used to know a girl who had this problem, with her vocal cords. If you don't like it, read something else. Don't bitch at me. You have been warned. This story is graded compared to some of the shit I've read in this newsgroup. This story is what happens when you have too much free time at work. *** Case Number : 091947137 Date : 13 August 2014 Interviewing Officer : Deputy Albert Kimmel Report prepared By : CPL Vanderhoven Incident Type : assault, battery, kidnapping, multiple counts of rape, rape by instrumentation, oral sodomy, anal sodomy, other charges to be determined. Address of Occurrence : 557 Maple Street, Wilburton, OH 23104 Witnesses : Gomer Chaves : Arresting officer, OSP. Mitchell Peterson : Arresting officer, OSP Denton Williams : 911 operator, Male, 27, African- American Evidence : House [557 Maple St., Wilburton OH] Closed-circuit surveillance footage taken from house. Various videos including rape, whipping and forced sexual acts. [closed by court due to content and nudity] Fingerprints (taken from house) Weapons : Colt 9mm Pistol/Firearm Other weapons : swords, spears, various whips, spiked chains. Too many misc. weapons of B&D/S&M nature to catalog. [see inventory sheet] --==+==-- [INTERVIEW : Victim is a white Caucasian female, 16 years 8 mos in age. Full name is Toni Alicia Whetson. Victim is wearing white T-shirt with words "Makin' Bacon" and silk-screened image of two pigs copulating. Victim is wearing jeans and tennis shoes. Victim appears in control of herself, though still shaken. Victim is unable to speak aloud due to congenital birth defect, but is able to whisper, leading to an exhausting interview process. Breaks are noted in transcript.] --==+==-- Okay, I'll admit it. It was dumb. I lived up to my name, on that one. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done. Okay. We got that out of the way. Start at the beginning, you said? The very beginning? That goes back a ways, almost two years. I started doing IRC chat shit just because I was bored. If you can believe it's possible to get bored, on the internet. And, what the hell, I liked talking to people. And I was normal, on IRC. Nobody knew I couldn't talk like normal. Nobody cared. I can't talk like normal, as you noticed. I only got one vocal cord. I frequented a few channels, and got to be pretty well known. I was kinda careful, I chose nicknames that weren't gender specific, and I didn't admit I was a girl for a long time. I liked the anonymity of it. I like being things I really wasn't. Finally, this one channel. It was kinda sexual, just the name of it... it was named Panties... it was, like most of IRC, full of lonely older guys looking for pussy... can I say that? Are my parents gonna see this? Good. Anyway, what the world seems full of, pardon me, no disrespect to you guys intended, what the world seems full of, older guys, looking for pussy. Finally I changed my nick to DumbGirl, and the fun started. First because that made me claim to be female, something really hard to verify on IRC, and the "dumb" part of it. It seemed to offend many guys that I called myself dumb, but they understood when I explained it. That name and I go back a long way, to kindergarten, almost... the kids at school always called me dumbgirl, because I can't talk normal. They were doing to be hateful, of course, but I kinda grew attached to the name. It got me a lot of attention on IRC. I didn't pass my pic around a lot, I wasn't a pic whore or anything. Just a few simple face shots to people I knew well, and trusted. I didn't ever send any nudes, I swear to god, you won't be able to find them anywhere 'cause I didn't send them. I knew better than that, I knew that shit'll come back to haunt you. Anyway, there was PileDrvr. Spelled P-I-L-E-D-R-V-R. I'm sure you know that from investigating his computer and shit. That's the nick he'd used for years. He was still using it, after he... after he had me. He seemed like a normal guy, he said he was thirty-three, which was mostly true, I found out later... He basically told the truth about everything, that's what fooled me, I guess. He seemed kind and sweet, and he didn't talk sex that much... he was interested in me, I thought, in my life... over the course of a year and a half or so I pretty much told him my whole story, my crappy life, which I probably made sound worse than it really was... stuff like that. He listened well, I felt like. He cared, I felt like. About two months before what happened... happened, I got my phone. That's when it really kinda took off. By then I'd found out that he only lived about two hours away from me, and all kinds of other shit about him. Stuff that made me trust him. He never begged for my number, that's probably most of the reason I gave it to him. All the guys in the channel were always begging me for my number, once they found out I finally had a phone. But he's the only one I ever gave it to. He started calling me every night just to tell me goodnight, shit like that, stuff I thought was sweet. He never talked for long, just a minute, and he never seemed needy or clingy or whatever. Just hi, how ya doin', night, and so on. We did that for two months or so before I met him. And, he was good. You guys say there's evidence he's done this shit before? I was not the first? I guess he kinda got some practice or somethin', because he was good. He was smooth. Likeable. We talked about meeting a long time before we ever did it. He acted like he didn't really want to, that he was afraid I might not like him, and shit like that. Of course, that just made me more determined. Anyway, it all came to a head when I got my license. And he was so goddamn smooth, he didn't even suggest it. I was the one who came up with the idea, I thought, although I realize now I was just basically playin' into his hands. I'm sure he'd had that idea from the start. About six months after I got my license, I did it. I did it on a Saturday when my folks were going to be out all evening, and I'd have plenty of time. I knew there was four hours driving, coming and going, and then I'd have maybe three or four hours there. I didn't go there really intending anything other than to just meet him, get to know him better. I sure didn't go with sex in mind, and I didn't make him any promises. I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was being fairly safe. Anyway, as soon as my folks left, I filled up my car and got on the interstate. We'd made arrangements to meet at a McDonald's, close to his house. I figured that was safe, for a first meeting. He wouldn't do anything out in the open. My phone took me right there, even though it was the longest car trip I'd ever took alone. I was kinda excited, I felt like I was getting away with big shit. I got there first, and waited a minute for him. I knew it was him when he drove up because he'd told me about his car a long time ago. He got out, and I ran outside to meet him. I just hugged him, like he was an old friend, and I thought it affected him slightly. He seemed to love me already. Hell, I thought, we've known each other for almost two years. It should feel like that. We sat, basically, and we talked. We didn't even eat nothin'. We talked for a good hour or so, nothing nasty, nothing sexual, he just listened to me mostly, I told him about school and shit, and shit about my parents... and, okay, I probably made it sound worse that it really is... I mean, I know my parents love me and all that, but they just kinda get on my nerves sometimes... like all parents probably do. Once again, I gotta admit... the idea to go to his house was mine. He'd told me about his... collection... his swords and spears and shit... guy stuff, I know... and some of his bondage shit... anyway, I knew he lived close... we talked some more, and I finally said, before I go... lemme see your shit, your weapons, okay? He acted kinda unsure again, let me tell you, he did that well, he made me want stuff by acting like he didn't want it. He was good, like I said. Finally he said something like, "It'd be better if we went in my car, so my neighbors don't see your car at my place, and then I'll bring you back here, okay?" and of course I agreed with it. I thought it'd be cool to ride in his car, too. I locked mine, got into his, and we took off. Yes, and... I know why nobody at McDonald's saw us... the seating area is off to the side, with a door... the people at the counter never saw us. And, of course, we never bought nothing. His house was fairly close, maybe a ten minute drive. He clicked the opener, and drove right in the garage, and closed it. I didn't even have no reservations, then. I had already decided he was what he represented himself to be on IRC, a fairly nice guy. We went in the house, and it was nice. You seen his house, you know. I didn't notice the shit like locks on the inside and the alarms everywhere. I just went right in. He did show me a few things, I think now just to let me know he was serious about weapons and shit. Anyway, we sat on the couch, and talked for a few minutes, then he said, "Toni." I whispered "What?" He pulled a small stool over to the table, and told me to lay my phone on it and the table, supported on both ends. He said he was going to show me a trick. I did. Then, he swung his arm over his head, and just karate- chopped my phone. He bent it into a "V" shape. Glass and shit went everywhere. I was just shocked, totally, I just sat there, thinking, What the fuck? "Toni," he said. He stood up, and stared at me. "You belong to me now. You must accept that, if you are to survive. I own you, body and soul. Right, now, before we go any further, I want you to bow to me. Bow, and say "Yes, Master." Go ahead, do it. Or I will be forced to punish you." I just sat there, not believing what I was hearing. At first, I thought it was some kind of bad joke. I just couldn't believe it. He stared at me for a moment longer, and then he just reached down and fucking slugged me hard, right on the side of the face. It hurt like hell. He pulled back his hand to hit again, and I thought, shit, what the hell. What the fucking hell ever. I dropped off the couch to my knees, and said, "Yes, master," like he had told me too. I'm no dummy. "Thank you," he said. He walked backwards, his eyes never leaving mine. He took some kind of silver chains out of a drawer, and approached me. I saw then they were handcuffs, linked with a chain. "Hold your hands out," he said, and I just stared at him. He pulled his hand back again, and I said, "Okay, okay," and stuck my hands out. He snapped the handcuffs on them, and told me to sit. I did, and he put them on my feet. I felt stupid, then, for letting him do it. I knew I was fucked, and fucked bad, at that moment. "I'll let you cool off in your room a while. Then we'll have dinner," he said, and he led me, pulling me by the chain. We went back into the house, and he took me into a bedroom, where there was just a small bed. He shoved me down on it, and left. I heard the door lock. Shit, I thought. Shit. I'm fucked. I just laid down on the bed, and cried. I mean, I was fucked. I had already told him nobody knew I was coming to see him. He knew I was sneaking around on my parents. My car was at the McDonalds. Nobody had any idea where I was. And my phone was busted to shit. I couldn't even shout where the neighbors could hear me. I was fucked. I cried for I dunno how long. Finally I head the lock, and he came in. He was carrying some kind of whip, one of those things people use on horses when they race. A crop. "It's time for you to stop crying, and learn how I expect you to serve me," he said, or something just about as crazy. I just stared at him. I knew what was next, and sure enough, he pulled his arm with the whip back to hit me. I jumped up, and said, "Okay!" and he went to the closet. He opened it, and took out a dress and tossed it on the bed. "This is Saturday's dress," he said. "No bra or panties. Put it on. Now." I looked at him again, hating him. I already hated him full strength, no warming up. He acted like he was gonna hit me again, and I pulled my shirt over my head. I dropped my pants, and stood there in my underwear, stupidly wondering if he was going to make me go through with it. He did, of course, he pulled back his arm, and I unsnapped my bra and dropped it. He smiled, then, the bastard. I kicked my panties down my legs and turned away from him and pulled the dress over my head. It was one of those goofy fucking Japanese costume things, it left my tits hanging out, and it barely came up far enough to cover my... to cover me. I knew when I bent over in the slightest, it'd all hang out. The fucking bastard, I though. The fucking bastard. He took my clothes, and tossed them into the other bedroom when we walked past it. He was holding my chain, again. He took me to the kitchen, and there followed this unbelievable fucking lesson on how to cook his shit and how to serve him at the table. He's so fucking anal about shit, you won't believe it. You'll see, if the stupid fuck lives. Everything had to be just so, his food perfectly cooked, nothing burned or even singed, the temps just right, the whole shit. Like I said, unbelievable. But I did get good at it, at least. The last two weeks he didn't have to spank me, any. I'm a hell of a cook, now, at least. I didn't do too good that first night, I burned the biscuits slightly, although he did eat them. He ate everything, and then he had me sit, and he fed me a few bites of this and that, making me sit straight up in the chair with my hands in my lap. He fed me like I was a little baby. He said some shit about he didn't want me to get fat or shit, I don't remember exactly. But he sure didn't feed me much, while I was there. I was hungry all the time. Shit, though, I can't gripe too much, I wanted to drop five pounds and I know I'm down ten or so, from what the doctor told me. Anyway, I ate, and then he told me I must be punished for burning the biscuits. Oh, shit, I thought, here it comes. He made me stand, and place my hands on the table, and stick my butt out. Then I felt him lift my skirt. Then he stopped for the longest time, I guess he was just staring at my ass. I thought, what the shit? and then I thought, Holy shit! when he finally hit me. That crop hurt like hell, and by the third or fourth whack I was cryin'. He just kept going, how long I have no idea. I know my ass burned until the next day from it. Yeah, the next day, when I got another spanking for fucking something up. Meatloaf, I even fucked up meatloaf once, and got my ass whipped for it. He took me into the living room then, and made me kneel on the floor like a dog for like two hours while he watched TV. And it was boring shit. That was one thing that was constant, in the what, two months? Two months I was there. Boredom. Boredom, and pain. A sore ass. I knew he could see my ass, the way I was kneeling. Whenever I looked back at him, he switched me slightly with the crop, so I stopped turning around. I know he was staring at my ass, I could almost feel his eyes on it. Finally he got up, and grabbed my chain. Off we went, down some stairs, and into the basement. That made me really apprehensive or something. It just seemed even more dangerous than being locked in the house with a maniac. But I had no choice. He showed me the... the thing, the device. It was something he'd built, I guess. You've been there, you've seen it. The wheel. He tied me too it, with my arms and legs outspread, the chain was long enough to allow that. He turned on a camera, and then slowly turned the wheel. When I was upside down, he stopped. My dress had fallen down, of course, and I was exposed... down there. It was right at face level, his face. Are you sure my parents aren't gonna read this? Anyway, he stuck his face right in my... my pussy, you know, and started licking and shit. Then he'd lean down and lick my tits and shit. Heh... what's your name? Officer Vanderhoven? You gettin' embarrassed, you turned red on that one... sorry... that's just the way it happened. You guys want the whole story, don't you? [15 minute break, took Miss Whetson to break room and purchased candy bar and Pepsi, as noted on expense account.] Okay, where were we? Yeah, he turned me upside down, and licked me and shit, and played with my boobs. He liked seeing my boobs go up and down as he turned the goddamn wheel, and I got dizzier than shit. I kinda hate to admit this, this early, but it happened, and I think it buzzed him good, I had an... uhm... a big "O" let's just say, and I could tell it pleased him. He finally had enough of that shit and untied me, and let me get down. He took me all through the room, and showed me all the shit, you guys have seen it, the homemade torture shit, and all the whips and stuff. Crazy. I was feeling worse and worse, I felt like I was seeing just how god awful fucking crazy he really was. I wondered at that point if there was any way I'd ever get out, alive. We went back upstairs, and he watched TV a while, and then he took me through the house, and showed me all the deadbolts on the inside of the doors, and the alarm system. He tased me, he said so I'd know enough to be scared of it, the mean bastard. It hurt like hell, I just fell to the ground, and I even peed myself a little bit. It hurt like I'd never felt hurt before. I was scared of that thing. He told me some shit like the foil on the windows would tase me if I tried to break out, which was, as you guys know, bullshit, but after being tased that time I was a bit scared of the windows. One of your guys asked me why I just didn't throw a chair through a window or somethin', kinda like he thought it was my fault I stayed there for so long. He didn't give me a chance, when I wasn't in my room, where there was not a window, he was with me, holdin' my chain and shit. You can tell that guy to go fuck himself, unless he's been in my shoes he can't say what the hell he'd do. I say that to anybody. And, I finally did get out, so what if it took a while. Most of the time I was there, my hands were tied. Literally. I slept a little that first night, mostly I just cried. He turned out my light, the switch for that even was on the outside, as you know. I went through the closet, and looked at his little fucking costumes, and thought, shit, what a fucking pervert. I had to pick the biggest fucking pervert in Ross county to be kidnapped by. Although, the shit he liked to do, we shoulda lived in Licking. Heh, I got a laugh out of Officer Vanderhoven, that time. Anyway, bright and early, the next morning, he opened the door, and smacked me hard on my sore ass, because I was still wearing Saturday's dress. I ran to the closet and got Sunday's costume, and it was even goofier. My tits hung out, and it had some strap thing down at my... pussy... which kinda let it all hang out. Day of prayer, my ass. Anyway, we did the thing then that I'm actually kinda good at, I fixed him breakfast, and he showed me how to serve it and all his crazy-ass shit. I only got one spank, then, because the toast was dry, or some made-up shit reason to whack me on the ass. We watched TV for a few, and then went downstairs and did the wheel for a while. It wasn't as much fun for him, because of the way the straps went, down there, and he finally unsnapped them, and had his way. He molested me good, real good. He did have some talent, I'll give him that. I got a headache, from all the blood running to my head, but I... uhm... O'd nicely. I dunno if you have to put that shit in when you type this up, officer Vanderhoven... I won't say it from now, on, you can just imagine it. Or not. That afternoon was long and boring, he read some shit to me, about S&M and shit, rules and stuff, how expected me to act, and all that. You can imagine, you've seen his bookshelf. It was mostly boring, with occasional bits of scary. I was realizing more and more what a whacked-out fruitcake he was, he was crazy way beyond normal crazy. He was so crazy he acted perfectly sane, until we were alone, locked in his house. Then he could be himself. And, you guys are probably right, he occasionally said shit like "before" or "once" when he was talking about shit, which now makes me believe I was not the first. You guys need to dig under that room he built on, and shit. Anyway, we've established he's nuts. He spanked me again at dinnertime, because I fucked up the beans. If you can imagine, I actually fucked up beans. I'd put them on a few hours before, but there was something about them he didn't like. He spanked me good, and my ass burned like crazy. Then he rubbed some cream on me, which didn't feel bad, but I knew he was just doin' it to feel my ass. I was a little surprised... that he hadn't... uhm... fucked me yet. I was sure it was coming up, at some point. I guess he wanted to let the suspense build, or something. Anyway, he played me for a week, doing shit like that. A new dress, every day. Oh, and I had to do the laundry, too. His, and mine. And clean. He showed me how to clean, how to scrub the floor and all his anal shit, the house was spotless, at least. I had to scrub the floor one tile at a time, for god's sake. And dust. I dusted every day. He watched me, his crop always ready to spank my usually-bare ass. I was very careful, I knew if I broke something I'd get spanked good. I did knock something off the fireplace mantel once, but I caught it in mid-air, and he never noticed. We watched TV at night, the History Channel and other gawd-awful boring shit. Mostly I just crouched in front of him on my hands and knees like a dog, so he could stare at my ass. Okay, while we're talking about my butt... and you might want to plug your ears for this one, officer Vanderhoven... he was totally fucking weird about my bathroom... habits. He followed me in, every time, and usually got down on his hands and knees and watched me pee and shit. Well, not shit, he stood over me for that... it was fucking nasty just to have somebody in there while I... pooped. It was weird. He was like... obsessed with certain things... pooping and peeing was one of them... there's more, I'll warn you. By the end of the first week, I was percolatin' this idea, in my head. My idea was, to pretend to be gettin' into this shit, this being his servant, his slave... and maybe he'd eventually give me more freedom or whatever. I knew that it wouldn't be realistic to do it too quickly... but I kinda started actin' like I was headed that way. I tried hard to please him, I had a good reason, so I didn't get my butt busted. It was to my advantage, to please him, like a good little slave would. The nights sucked. I really felt alone, I mean, nobody knew where I was, what had happened to me. After the first week, I realized that the search was probably close to being over. For some reason I didn't realize you guys had my computer... not that it did much good... I mean, I'm not criticizin' you... I know it's hard to look people on IRC up and such... but by the end of the first week, I knew if I wanted out, it was up to me. He started me on another machine, after a while... the... uhm... the fucking machine. I'm sure you've seen it, maybe even seen the movies he made... no? They're somewhere in his stuff... I see... well, thank the judge for me, then. Anyway, we started that up, every night... dunno why... I don't know his timing on this shit, some of it was very... methodical, and some of it was just fucking... crazy. Well, he was fucking crazy. I can't tell you how long it was before he... before he took me. Out of the blue, one night, I heard the key in the door. I sat up in bed, wondering what he wanted. He just had on Speedos, and I thought, oh shit. The moment has arrived. He made me lay down on the bed sideways, and he took some cloth, silk or something, and tied my hands to my feet under the bed. My ass was in the air. I didn't have nothin' on, that's how I slept. That way I could just jump up and jump into the day's costume when I heard him coming. Anyway, there I was, my ass in the air. He smeared some vaseline or something on my... my bunghole... and then I felt him back there, and suddenly I lost my... virginity... my bunghole virginity, at least. And it hurt like a sumbitch. He went for the longest time, I could hear him gruntin' and groanin' and shit, and finally he just dropped off, in the floor. My hands were asleep by now, and hurt like hell when they came back to life. He finally untied my feet, and I sat up, bitching and moaning. He took it that time, at least, he didn't spank me. He finally took me to my little bathroom, and made me get in the shower. He took his Speedos off, and we crowded in there... okay, here it gets a little... disgusting... he laid on the floor and made me shit out his... cum, his sperms... on him. I think mostly on his chest, and of course some... shit came out, too... he seemed to be into that, somewhat. We did that every night after that, I mean he started pussy-fucking me, in a night or two, but he butt-fucked me every night, without fail. And we did the shower thing. He just washed off and dried off and left, after that, and I had to clean the shit out of the shower. I did tell him he was a perv once, and he just laughed at me. Sometimes he could take a joke. But sometimes it pissed him off, you had to know his moods. At some point about this time we started doing the sawhorse thing in the basement, and he fucked me proper then. I mean he pussy-fucked me. Sorry, officer Vanderhoven. He copulated with my vagina. Heh. Just fuckin' with ya. Anyway, he tried out most of his toys on me, before it was over. The spanking machine worked fairly well, and hurt like hell. The barrel thing where he stretched me backwards, that was the worst. My back is still fucked up from that goddamn thing. If he lives, I'm suing the shit out of him. His trust fund or whatever is mine. I should get a share, even if he dies, the bastard. Okay. That's about it, for the next month or so. I was just his toy. He fucked me, and he fucked with me. He did the whole dominance thing on me, and I thought I kept my head straight through it, but maybe it worked on me a little. He broke me down and built me up the way he wanted me, the whole time I kept thinking, just let him believe, let him believe. That was my goal, to make him think he'd turned me into a zombie that obeyed him, and maybe I could see my chance. He would have me do shit like stand on one leg, until I was about to pass out, and he'd spank me if my other foot touched the ground. Or he'd pinch the shit out of my tits, and spank me if I made a sound. Crazy shit. He played with my tits now while he watched TV, I had to sit in the chair in between his legs, and he played with my tits. And my pussy, depending on which dress I had on. We did that shit for hours sometimes. I mean, I never got a break from the guy. He didn't work, hell, he was there, all the time. Whenever he went out, to the store or whatever, I was locked in my room. Otherwise, he was with me. Or I was with him, I guess. I hatched the idea one day when I was fixing him dinner. I got in the cabinet, and I saw the bottle. It was aspirin, that kind of aspirin with the long funky name. He was in the other room, and I took two of them, and a small drink, and held them in my mouth to see if they tasted horrible. They weren't that bad. I hid the bottle back in the cabinet. I hadn't seen any drugs or anything around the house, I guess he kept that stuff locked up in his room. Anyway, several days later I was alone in the kitchen again, and I took the whole bottle, and poured it into his 2 liter Mountain Dew bottle, which was about half full. I pushed it way to the back in the fridge, hoping he wouldn't notice. He never looked in the fridge, now, he just asked me when he wanted something. Told me, rather. The next day I took a sip of it, to see if the taste was horrible. I thought I could taste it because I knew it was there, but Mountain Dew has a pretty strong taste, anyway. I hoped he wouldn't notice. I served him Mountain Dew for lunch that day, and for dinner that night. He got this funny look when he drank it, I hoped maybe he just thought it had gone flat, which it slightly had. He didn't seem to notice, though. I topped his glass off for him, and he pretty much drank the rest of the bottle. By that night, I couldn't tell any difference in him. He seemed normal. I'd kind of hoped he'd just keel over, while I was out of my room. I mean, this whole plan revolved around me not being locked in my room. Although, I figured after a few days I could bash my way through the sheetrock. But I figured if he'd be incapacitated, I could find his keys and let myself out. The next morning he didn't seem to be feeling well. I gave him the rest of the Mountain Dew for breakfast, even. He just laid around all morning, and didn't even want to play with my tits. I kinda fussed over him, and when he laid down on the couch I put pillows under his head, and stuff like that. He was all pale and sweating and shit, and I knew he was sick. I just stood there and looked at him, and hating him for what he'd done to me. Sure, it'd felt good, occasionally... I mean, sex is sex... but he shoulda asked... he shouldn't have just fuckin' kidnapped me. He deserved whatever I could give him. I looked around a little for some of his weapons, but they were all locked in the basement. I thought about trying to steal his key ring, but he still opened his eye occasionally and looked at me. I tried to look indecisive for him, and I was indecisive. About what I should do to him. Finally I saw that goofy statue thing on the fireplace shelf. He seemed to be asleep, so I went and got it, and just stood over him, with it over my head. For some reason I didn't want to start it, I knew that it might be my life on the line, when I did it. He finally opened his eyes, and saw me standing over him. That did it. I smashed him in the stomach with it, with all my strength, right where I guessed his liver was. I think he passed out, immediately. He didn't move, after that first cough and wheeze. I bonked him on the head three or four times, just to make sure he was out, and he seemed pretty out of it. I pawed through his pockets and found his phone immediately, but when I turned it on it was passworded. Shit, I thought. I went through his pockets, and found his key ring. I knew the cellar key from sight, and the other two keys I tried on the front door, but neither worked. At some point I bonked him on the head again, for good measure. He seemed pretty dead, although he was still breathin'. I remembered, about that time, that even when phones were passworded you could make 911 calls and shit on them. I grabbed it, and dialed 911, and Mr. Williams answered, and the rest, as they say, is history. The OSP kicked the door in when they got his address from the account, and they took him off in an ambulance. And here I am. Yeah. I think I'm okay. It'll take some gettin' used to, to be free again. And I gotta undergo some shit from my parents, I know, but hopefully they'll just be glad I'm back. Although they probably enjoyed a slight break from my nonsense. No, I'm just joking. What do I think should happen to him? It'd be easier on everybody if he just did the right thing and died, I think. We'll see, I guess. He'll be on dialysis, if he lives, they said, and maybe that'll slow his perviness down some. If he lives, he'd better end up in the goddamn pen, or I'll have to take matters in my own hand. No, I'm kidding again. Kinda. Hey, what do I gotta do to get my car out of impound? Is it gonna cost me? [interview terminated] More stories by this author: /files/Authors/MeatBot/ -------------------------------------------------------- This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider seeking professional help. -------------------------------------------------------- Kristen's collection - Directory 83