Twisted (49 page)

“Watching you and Mike fuck, night after night, I know you’re not much of a cocksucker. He just went down on you or you fucked him.”

“C’mon, AJ, you got a real nice cock, just a taste, please? I’ll beg for it, if that’s what you want. Please let me suck it, please?” All of a sudden, understanding and then fury crossed his face. He slapped me across the face. Then he kicked me again, targeting my face, making my head swim, and my nose hurt more than I would have thought was possible.

“You filthy hick. You were going to bite my cock. You think that would have saved your miserable life?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but you’d still be dickless and bleeding to death.”

“This is no fun! You’re not any fun. No fun at all.” He began screaming it out. He moved behind me and the strap began to fall. He was making sure to graze my balls every time he laid the strap on. That, coupled with the pain in my nose and the lingering effects of the chemical he’d used to knock me out, made me dizzy. Nausea overtook me, and I vomited on the floor in front of me. I heard his crazy laughter as the blackness swarmed up and overwhelmed me.

I
WOKE
up with my wrists tied together with duct tape, and I was hanging by them from the hook in the ceiling again. My ankles were duct taped together this time. The little table, with its assorted array of instruments, was in front of me. I looked down at several knives, an ice pick, a claw hammer, and a baseball bat, a pair of hedge clippers, and pliers. A welding torch was there also. I saw AJ come around from the corner of my eye. He was still naked, save for his boots, and now he had a leather policeman’s type cap on.

“Good mornin’, pin dick. That leather make up for your tiny dick and make you feel like a man?” He just looked at me. The expression on his face caused chills to run up and down my spine. His eyes were cold and dead, devoid of any expression. I felt as if I was being stared at by some poisonous and predatory lizard. I didn’t know what was more frightening, the look of a predator, or the maniacal laugh. Those things seemed to show just how emotionless and twisted he was. It seemed no matter what he’d do, he could think up worse.

“See these things here on the table? We’re going to have so much fun with these things. This here is the most interesting.” He picked up the blowtorch. “This is used for cauterization. See, Jeffy, sometimes these other instruments cause a lot of bleeding.” He rubbed a hatchet almost lovingly as he spoke. “If you bleed too much, it might cause our fun and games to end way too soon, and we can’t have that, can we?” He giggled that maddening giggle again.

“We want a nice long time to play together. I’m even going to take some pictures to commemorate it with. I have a few of you passed out and hanging there in just your underwear. Now let’s get some of the cuts where I had to cut your long johns off. I’ll get some pictures of your back and ass. They’re all red and swollen. There’s even a fair amount of blood.” He giggled louder and longer this time. “Did you know those big balls of yours are all swollen too, Jeff? I’ve got to get a picture of that and your broken nose. I’ve given you two black eyes!” I could hear him working himself up. He began breathing harder, and I realized he was jerking off, looking at the welts and wounds on my back and ass. I heard him moan a few times, and then he came around facing me. His hand was covered with cum. He smeared it on my face.

“We have to have you all ready for the camera!” He moved around me with a digital camera, taking pictures and laughing as he went. Finally he came around and stuck the viewer of the camera in my face. As he paged through the pictures, I noticed that, even though I looked like sheer hell, I still had an angry look on my face. He was right. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. He finally backed off and walked over to the table. He picked up the blowtorch. My chest seemed to contract, as if there were bands around it, making it impossible for me to draw a breath. He held up the torch.

“Remember, cauterization.” He laughed and set it down and walked behind me. I heard a door close behind him and his steps moving away. Round two was going to be psychological.

I shook my head to clear it a bit. I reckoned he’d leave me here a while to try and freak me out, looking at the stuff he’d left on the table. It hurt my head to shake it, but I had to think straight.

I looked up at my hands. They were bound together with duct tape around my wrists, with the duct tape forming a primitive but very effective pair of handcuffs. I wiggled my fingers. I could move them, and best of all there was some feeling in them. My feet barely scraped the floor. I tried swinging on the hook, but the duct tape was stuck fast to it. It just made my shoulders hurt like hell. I glanced at the table in front of me. A wave of panic began to rise, deep in my gut, thinking of what AJ could do with the knives and clippers and other things.

Then it hit me,
knives
.
Knives cut duct tape
. I pulled my legs up. AJ had hit me several times in the abs, so it hurt like hell as I used those muscles to lift my legs so they were sticking out in front of me, as if I were sitting. I stretched them out and put them on the table, one foot on each side of a hunting knife with what looked like a six-inch blade. I was able to move my feet a bit, since it was my ankles that were duct taped. I moved my feet together and was able to scoop up the knife between them. I began to lift my feet up and raise my legs up. The move I was trying was something I’d seen a gymnast do on the rings, in the Olympics. If I could just get my feet up to my hands, I’d be set.

I pulled up and tried to maneuver around so my feet, with the knife pressed between them, came close to my hands. My abdominal muscles were screaming in protest. I ignored the burn. As I began to draw my feet back toward my hands, the knife seemed to be sliding from between my feet. The weight of the blade was causing it to slide down. I jerked my feet to try to keep from dropping the knife. The jerk in motion only made the knife fall. It nicked my upper belly on the way down. I tried not to pay attention to the new pain in my belly. The cut was small and wasn’t bleeding too much. I looked down and around for the knife. Just my luck, it had dropped out of reach.

I looked at the table again. There was another knife. This one seemed to be a chef’s knife, with a serrated edge. I began another effort to grab the knife with my feet.

With this effort, I took my time. I was reasonably certain AJ was in no real hurry to start the next round of torture. He got off on his victims being afraid. I reckoned he thought the longer he left me alone, the more I would think of what he could do with the stuff he left on the table. I was gonna take my time and get the knife balanced and grasped between my feet as well as possible. I managed to slide the knife so my feet were grasping it by the blade. The blade was about eight inches long and was a tapered, chef’s-type instrument. I ended up knocking it against one foot or another in my efforts to get as good a grip on it as possible. I knew the blade was pretty dull, as I wasn’t getting cut. At that moment, I didn’t care how sharp it was or wasn’t, as long as it would cut duct tape.

I began the process of pulling my feet up. I tried to use my arms to help pull up. I got the knife up to about chest level when my abdominal muscles began to burn. I could feel them tensing. I was about to get a cramp! I pulled up as quickly as I could while still keeping the movement smooth. I tried to ignore the cramping, but I knew I wouldn’t get the knife much higher. I continued to struggle, and with one push the knife handle was in front of my face. I opened my mouth and pushed forward. I bit down hard on the knife handle. I had it in my mouth! I was able to let my legs drop. The cramp was stretched out, just by my hanging there. I could feel drool running out of my mouth. I was biting so hard on the wood handle of the knife, I was afraid I would crack a tooth. There was no way in hell though, I was gonna relax. I was not going to lose the knife.

I could feel blood running down my back, ass, legs and sides. AJ wasn’t kidding about there being a fair amount of blood. He must have used the cane when I was unconscious. The cuts where he cut off my longhandles went from my wrists up my arms and then down my sides, hips, and legs, stopping at the ankles. The physical motion of bringing my feet up to face level had caused those cuts to open up again.

As I thought about the next step of getting the knife to my hands, I realized I needed to do it fairly quickly. It was difficult to breathe through my broken and swollen nose, and the knife handle was not allowing me to breathe deeply. I was breathing more heavily, my body telling me it needed just a bit more oxygen. I began a pull-up type motion. Normally, this would be no problem for me whatsoever. Mike and I did shoulder presses and pull downs as well as chin-ups, frequently, so I was confident of my ability to do pull-ups, under normal conditions.

I put any thoughts of failure out of my mind and concentrated on the simple action of doing a chin-up in one smooth and easy motion. Finally I got my face up to the same level as my hands. I was having quite a bit of trouble breathing now and was beginning to feel lightheaded. I leaned my head back a bit, putting the knife up above my hands. I then turned my neck a bit to the left, causing the blade to fall against the duct tape. I slowly leaned back, letting the handle slide out of my mouth. I moved my fingers down. I was able to get my hand to clasp the knife handle, using my fingers and mouth. Holding the knife as tightly as I could, I let myself hang down once again and sucked deep mouthfuls of air.

I reckoned I was two-thirds of the way there, if getting the knife to my mouth was one-third, and then getting it in my hand was the second third, now to cut the duct tape.

I positioned the knife and began to saw the duct tape. As I’d noticed before, the knife was very dull, and the duct tape was in several layers. I kept sawing in the limited range of motion I had available. All of a sudden, I got a sharp pain in the fleshy part of the palm of the hand which didn’t have the knife, and in my arm. I looked up. I was cutting into my other hand and arm. I was also cutting into the duct tape. I gritted my teeth and continued sawing. I was hoping that the duct tape would rip from my weight before I cut myself too deeply. After what seemed like an eternity of slow, ineffectual sawing with the knife, I heard a ripping sound, and I was falling. I landed on the cold, dirty floor. I was free!

I reckoned it was in my best interest to get the hell outta there as soon as possible. I didn’t know how quickly I was gonna be able to move, as I was really lightheaded. I cut the duct tape on my ankles and slowly stood up. Balancing myself against the table, I realized I was really thirsty, and part of the lightheadedness could be from dehydration.

I glanced around the room, and miracle of miracles, I saw several bottles of water and a box of chocolate bars on a table next to a door. I was sure that AJ was planning to eat and drink in front of me as part of the torture, when I was really hungry and thirsty. I staggered over and opened a bottle of water. I drank heavily and then wolfed a chocolate bar. I started to feel a bit better almost immediately. My head still hurt like a mother, but the dizziness was going away.

I stopped and listened, but couldn’t hear any noise from the rest of the house. AJ must have left. I drank some more water and ate another candy bar. I looked around and saw my clothes in a corner, where he had thrown them. The underwear I had been wearing was cut to shreds. I pulled on my socks and started to pull on my jeans. My swollen testicles screamed in agony when I tried to pull the jeans up around them. It seems my ass was so swollen I couldn’t get my jeans on over that either. I pulled on my boots and then my shirt. It was a thermal Henley and hurt my back like hell. I pulled my coat on over that and threw on my cowboy hat. I went back over to the table and picked up the hatchet and then the hunting knife off the floor. It was time to get the hell outta Dodge!

I snuck up to the door that AJ must have disappeared through and found myself in what must have been the living room of the house. There was a very faint light coming from what I could see was the kitchen. I continued through it and came to the side door I had seen earlier. I looked out the best I could, through the crack between the door and jamb, and didn’t see AJ anywhere.

I opened the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. I had no idea where AJ was or if he was armed. It was dusk and cloudy, so I must have been here at least a day. Mike must be outta his mind with worry. I felt guilty as hell, putting him through this.

I crept around the outside of the house, to where I’d left my truck. It was gone! I couldn’t imagine AJ driving it all around. My truck is pretty distinctive, and the valley is a pretty small place. I looked down at the ground where I’d parked, and there were tracks leading to an old broken-down barn. I followed the tracks. I noticed AJ’s car was gone too. I kept thinking what a moron I was to fall for his story. My truck was in the barn. It was unlocked, but he must have taken the keys. My cell phone was gone too. I had a knife and hatchet. It was a couple of miles to the road, so I figured I’d better get my bare ass in gear and get away from here.

I began to walk along the track which led to the main road. It was after dark now, which made the track and any obstacles in it very difficult to see. I was also unsteady on my feet, nauseous, and my nose, back, ass, and balls throbbed painfully. The cuts on my arms, legs, and sides that AJ had inflicted hurt, as did the little gouge on my belly where I dropped the first knife in my bid for freedom. I had to stop and rest occasionally, as I was really lightheaded, and at times the nausea and nuclear-force headache I had almost overcame me. The headache and dizziness seemed to come and go, but the lightheadedness was constant. It was not a problem to rest now, as in the hollow there were cottonwoods along the track, and I was able to lean against them. Once I got past the top of the ridge and started to descend into the valley, there would be no trees, only grass and low sagebrush. The eastern part of the valley was mostly desert. I would be totally exposed if AJ did come back while I was in that stretch of the track from the road.