Dancer (8 page)

"Sorry, but I really don't think you'll be able to get out of this," I said as I put my hands on my waist.

"Goddamn it, I need a cigarette!"

"No. No you don't."

"I'm fucking hot. It's too hot in here!" He stilled for a moment and glared bullets at me.

"No. No it's not hot. It feels great to me. I'm the pregnant one. That means I should be the one sweltering, not you. You're just a stupid whiny boy who actually needs your mommy's tit to suck. Not a ciggy." My grin widened exponentially, my amusement growing.

Enraged, his face reddened and his eyes bulged. I figured they'd pop right from their sockets.

Oh well.

Yet I stupidly gave in to his childish complaints and demands. "Okay. I'll just unbutton your shirt." My fingers moved across the buttons and gradually revealed his bronzed, clean shaven skin.

He was ungrateful for my help.

"Let me go, you fucking bitch!"

"Um, okay then. I guess I'll see you in a while." I shrugged and left.

His screams drifted into my bedroom where I lounged in bed, uncovered by the sheet. Comfortable and satisfied.

Not too hot at all.

However I wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

It was worth it.

* * * *

C
hase's restraints had loosened due to his vigorous movements. So the next morning I quickly rearranged and re-tied his restraints after giving him a drink laced with Unisom.

It was my drug of choice.

At first he refused the water, but eventually succumbed due to his excruciating thirst.

I kept a steak knife nearby in case anything unexpected should occur. On the floor, the blade glimmered in early sunlight that trickled amid sheer curtains.

At last he was secured and I remained safe from his wrath and escape.

I hurried to my bedroom to get ready for my doctor's appointment. Today I'd find out the sex of my baby.

Boy or girl?
A big smile crossed my face. Yes an actual
smile
. Strange being so thrilled when I'd felt miserable for months. A nice change. But thoughts of Allison crept in and disturbed me. Guilt mingled with sadness.

God dammit.

Regardless I had to get on with it. Had to live my life
(what's left of it)
for my child's sake. Take care of myself for him or her. If not, I may as well give up and kill myself, taking an innocent child's life with me.

Of course that was something I could never do. My mind was totally fucked up. I didn't know whether I was coming or going, happy or sad, suicidal or miserable, filled with hatred for Chase or needed his support on a subconscious level. Desired to cut his throat—
or allow him to fuck me right there on Mom and Dad's bed.

Heat spread to my face as another rush of guilt shamed me.

Someday, somehow this nightmare would end. Remembering this should get me through the endless days and nights without losing my mind.

Or have I already lost it?

* * * *

I
was so excited I couldn't wait to tell my nemesis the wonderful news.

I went into the bedroom where Chase was imprisoned.

"Guess what?" Breathless, I loomed over his bedside. "You didn't give me a sexually transmitted disease!"

No response. Stoic expression. Cold eyes.

"And guess what else, Chase? We're having a boy." I whipped out a sonogram photo and thrust it in his face. "Here's our son, Chase. Isn't he beautiful?"

Icy eyes glared in the midst of tense quiet. He didn't even blink for Christ's sake, nor did he bother to glance at the scan. He just refused to acknowledge his baby's presence as if he felt absolutely nothing for his own flesh and blood.

Did he care for no one? No one at all?

What kind of man
was
he? Oh. How could I forget. Sadly I knew exactly what kind of person he was. 

I got a grip on my emotions and said, "You're so cute, giving me the silent treatment."

Stoic expression.

"Oh, I know. You want to feel my stomach, don't you? Well here you go." I advanced until my gut hovered in his face.

Chase didn't move, not that he could anyway.

"Oh that's right." I nodded and feigned a frown. "You can't move your hands. That's too bad, isn't it?"

His glare didn't waver as he said, "Fuck you, bitch."

Finally a reaction! And I laughed and laughed.

In awful truth, I laughed to avoid crying. I backed up and retreated, dropping the sonogram photo along the way.

Fuck you, bitch.
His cruel words were Caleb's, blaring like alarms in my ears.

Once inside the hallway, I clutched my chest and permitted myself to breathe.

Only then did I feel safe enough.

* * * *

I
sat at the kitchen table and nibbled a Swiss cheese sandwich saturated with mustard. In the meantime I heard loud complaints coming from upstairs.

"
I'm fucking starving! Get me something to eat!
" Chase bitched as if he knew I was eating.

Not only was he The Dancer, he was Chase/Satan/The Psychic. On the other hand it
was
dinner time.

Pleasantly apathetic, I continued eating. Yes. I'd simply learn to tune him out.

God I love Swiss cheese and mustard—

"BITCH!"

Startled, I dropped the final bite and the jagged chunk landed by my toes. Crumbs scattered.

Damn you, Chase
.

Sighing, I slowly rose and snatched the first edible thing I could find: A black as night, three-week-old banana nestled within a bowl on the counter. I scooped up the squishy piece to examine it.

Smelling like a thousand bananas stuffed in one, the fruit's surprisingly sweet aroma met my nose.

I rushed upstairs, burst in on Chase while he indulged in a tantrum.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to gag you with this thing instead of feeding it to you." I stormed to his bedside, wielding the banana like a rotten, organic weapon.

"Just give it to me. I'm fucking starving." He jerked on the ties that bound him to the barred headboard, stretched his muscular arms painfully taut.

"You
must
be starving if you're willing to eat this nasty shit. Here." I peeled and shoved the darkened fruit toward his mouth. "Take a bite even though you deserve to starve."

He practically inhaled the fruit, his bright teeth biting uncomfortably close to my fingertips.

"
Mmm
... so damn good." He polished it off in two huge bites; the banana, that is. For a second he heaved as if the potentially horrid flavor had caught up with his taste buds. However he made a quick recovery, relaxed and closed his eyes.

The disgusting, mushy, pleasant-smelling meal brought a healthy flush to his stupid cheeks.

For fuck's sake, the man appeared more radiant than I did.

"Can I have a drink?" he snapped, never quite satisfied. Ever.

Jesus Christ.

I went downstairs to get a Coke and straw, then returned out-of-breath.

He glared as he sipped Coke through the straw. Dark liquid flowed up to his puckered lips and his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. 

This strange situation was getting—stranger.

I no longer recalled a time when life had been remotely normal. Nope. Hell, this shit
was
the new normal. Seemed centuries ago was the last time things resembled a hint of normalcy. Forever ago in a faraway exotic place—where I currently wished to be instead of stuck here with this spoiled motherfucker.

"I feel like a baby, some invalid who can't even feed himself," he griped.

I flashed him a sneer and withdrew the soda. "Yeah and just think—I'll have plenty of experience by the time the baby's born."

Chase ignored that, started squirming, grimacing. "I gotta piss." His lips curled in agony. "I can't remember the last time I went. My fucking bladder's gonna explode."

I chortled, delighted. And there was no way in hell I'd let him use the bathroom.

Had to be another way. I glanced at the can of soda in my hand.

Wide-eyed, Chase gave an incredulous look. "No way. I'm not pissing in—in
that
goddamn thing."

"Then I guess your goddamn bladder's going to explode." I sweetly smiled.

"Okay, fine." He cleared his throat, his eyes glittering with fury. "You do it. Unzip me and stick my cock next to the opening. I fucking guarantee it won't work too well. And if you so much as cut or nick my dick with the metal, I swear to god—"

"I'd love to cut it off and stick it inside this can, Chase dear, but I won't. Not yet." I leaned over, unzipped his fly.

"
Bitch
."

"Shut up."

Absolutely reveling in his discomfort, I carelessly pilfered and manhandled his penis (weird seeing it flaccid, not massive and hard like in the beginning of our wondrous, fulfilling relationship).

Then again, the shaft appeared bloated due to his intense urge to piss.

Whatever. He just better not piss on me.

A gasp eluded him as I held his dick scant centimeters from the glistening rim of the Coke. 

Oh my God, it's getting hard! You disgusting filthy creature!

Grimacing, I knelt part-way to align the metal hole with his dick head so his pee wouldn't miss. Easier said than done. I guided his semi-hard pecker to the can and he urinated... but much of the amber stream dribbled to the mattress, splattered my forearm.

"Shit." I shook my arm and pee went flying.

Ew! My God, if Mom and Dad knew...
I took a deep breath and continued this newest indignity.

"Oh, hell yeah," Chase breathed, relieved, sounding as if he were in the throes of orgasm—until I squeezed his dick. Hard.

"
Ahh
—goddammit you bitch!" He bucked the air as if fucking it.

"Sorry. I thought you were enjoying yourself too much." His piss swished in the soda can as I set it aside.

I debated on leaving him with his pecker hanging out.

I didn't.
I
didn't want to see it, so I tucked in
big
-
little Chase
and zipped him. Besides, no punishment would be good enough for him. No lesson tough enough.

I grabbed the can, halted as waves of nausea crippled me; kept me from going past the door.

The pregnancy had sharpened my sense of smell, something that Chase's urine didn't help due to its odor of ammonia. I retched, doubled over and almost spilled the can of novelty pop-piss.

"Don't leave yet. I need to take a shower," he snarled.

"Chase, I'm really, really tired right now."

Nausea waning, I straightened without facing him. "I'll sponge-bathe you tomorrow. Alright?"
Please don't argue with me.

"Fine. Just go," he muttered. "Get the fuck out. I'm sick of looking at you."

I quickly exited before a fainting spell could claim me.

Before the sting of his remarks could touch me.

10

I
took a wash cloth and scrubbed Chase's
lower
body, feeling weird while I performed this particular mind-fuck of a chore.

Never in my wildest dreams.

"You almost look hot in that short black dress," he said, coming as close to a compliment as he could muster. "Why don't you climb on top? C'mere and ride my dick like you did in the Mustang."

His half-ass compliments didn't stir me in the slightest.

Okay. Well maybe they stirred me a little.
Maybe
.

Satisfied with his cleanliness, I slid some boxers on him. They belonged to Dad.

Squick
.

"C'mon, Samantha," he whined, trying to butter me up by using my actual name. "I'm horny. Let's make the best of this situation."

I rolled my eyes—and an idea struck me.

It was brilliant!

Ceasing my chore, I teased him by slowly slipping off my dress. I lowered the straps of my bra and my round firm breasts popped out, showing Chase how well the pregnancy had enhanced them.

Slight heat warmed my face. Usually I was much more inhibited than this.

There was no mistaking
his
pleased expression or lusty gaze.

"How do they look?" I asked.

"Fucking awesome, baby.
Dayum
. Come a little closer..." His lips parted, tongue practically hanging.

"You'll never have me again, Chase. You blew it the last time." I straightened my bra and wriggled into my dress.

Gloating, chuckling, I headed out.

"Cunt," he said under his breath.

You really should get your mind out of the gutter, Chase.

And that night, I devised a
new
plan.

I crept through the shadowy corridor to Chase's lair.

He was asleep, understandable since it approached midnight. The timing couldn't have been better.

I hooked my fingers beneath the waistband of Chase's boxers, inched them past his slim hips, freeing his dick and balls. I rubbed, fondled his junk and these manipulations thickened his prick.

My hand enclosed his semi-erect cock—and the games began.

He groaned, shifted.