Tangled Rose by Abby Weeks Page B

going to happen to her. The sound of that breathing, the unseen man standing there over her in the dark like a fiend, it terrified her. She pulled her arms and legs against the cords with all her might but it did no good. The harder she struggled, the more painful they got. They rubbed against her skin, they cut into her flesh, and still she struggled.
    And the man, Fat Boy, he just stood above her and watched her squirm like a frightened animal in a trap.
    “You aint going anywhere, my little lovely.”
    She wanted to scream but no sound came out. The terror was too much. All she could do was lie there, squirming against the cords and imagining the awful things that he was going to do to her.
    “Quit your struggling, little lady.”
    Fat Boy’s voice sounded muffled, like he was speaking from far away.
    She did quit her struggling but not because he’d told her too. She’d given up. They were too tight and too painful. She lay still.
    “That’s better,” he said.
    She held her breath. He was standing next to her, next to the bed. She didn’t want to breathe. She didn’t want to smell him. When he leaned down over her and reached out she froze. She didn’t move a single muscle.
    “Good girl,” he said and carefully unzipped her leather racing suit.
    That racing suit was her favorite thing in the world. She’d made it herself. It covered her from head to toe in sleek, black leather and there was a zip that went from her neck down to her ankle. Usually it made her feel sexy and powerful, like Catwoman. Now it felt like armor, she felt that as long as it was on she had some protection. Fat Boy’s corpulent fingers were on the zipper, slowly pulling it down, revealing her body to his greedy eyes.
    She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to see his face. She looked down at her chest. As the zipper opened she could see that all she had to protect her body from Fat Boy’s greasy hands was a black lace bra and panties.
    And that was when she did it. She looked up at him. It was a mistake. Instantly, she knew she’d made a mistake. Not only had she excited him by giving him a moment’s connection but she had also seared into her memory the sight of his fat, disgusting face.
    In the blue light of the moon she saw his beady eyes staring at her. They looked like pure evil, black and small. He was like an animal picking over its prey in the night. His cheeks were swollen and plump. His skin was marked in pocks. His beard looked tangled and dirty.
    And it was then, in that terrible moment of panic, that she found her voice. She screamed as she looked up at him. His hand came down on her mouth. It was sweaty and warm. He pressed down on her face and she stopped screaming.
    “You keep quiet or I’ll really give you something to scream about,” he said.
    Rose looked up into his face and then shut her eyes. She didn’t scream again. He continued unzipping her suit. The zip went from her neck down past her navel to her waist and then down her right leg. Fat Boy opened it all the way and then pulled it open so that he could see all over her. Only her left leg and her arms were still clothed. She was bare to him now, just some thin, lace underwear between her and him.
    “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” he whispered.
    She had no idea. She didn’t want to know. She could feel the strength of him as he moved her and pulled off her suit. He was as muscular as he was fat. His arms were hairy and she could smell a raw, animal scent from him. He reminded her of a bear. She tried to resist but it was no good. She was tied up and he was so powerful. He reached beneath her back and unclasped her bra.
    “That’s better,” he said as he pulled it off and threw it to the floor.
    She shivered in the chill air. Her body was completely exposed. Her breasts were naked to his view. The only thing covering her vagina was the thin lace panties. He stood over her and looked at her for what seemed like hours. She