Chapter 5: A New Friend
Junie was pulled from a deep sleep by a strangled shriek from the next room. She stretched and rubbed at her eyes and lay for a minute listening. She could hear Bob's voice speaking softly, but she could not make out the words. Again she heard a cry of pain, a muffled pleading squall of distress.
Slipping from the bed, Junie silently tiptoed to the door and opened it a crack and peeked out into the play room. It was only dimly lit with candles in the fireplace, on the mantle and the candle held in Bob's hand.
Junie could see the flickering light reflecting off Bob as he stood nude leaning over Donna. She was stretched in a painful arch backwards over the padded sawhorse her arms and legs bound to the legs, her head dangling down, her cunt offered up at the peak of the tense curve of her body. Bob leaned over Donna and Junie heard her voice swell in another soft garbled cry.
This time Junie could understand Bob's words, "Not yet. Not fucking yet."
Like a moth drawn to a flame Junie found her feet taking tiny steps toward this candlelit scene, her neck craning to see more. There was the pungent sent of Donna's arousal filling the room, its familiar sweetness overlaying the smell of the candle wax.
Bob's eye caught her standing there and he frowned and then gestured for her to come closer. His voice was admonishing, "Donna, you have woken Junie. You know what that means."
Donna's whole body convulsed and twisted against the ropes holding her, a long low howl of panic shook her, "OOOOOHHHH!" Junie could see her now. She was wearing a blindfold and the ball gag. Her whole body was coated in wax, even the weights dangling from her nipples had small stalactites of wax hanging down from them.
Junie heard a soft clinking sound and her eyes turned to Bob. He had put down the candle and was reaching into a small dish and held up an ice cube for her to see and then pressed it to the wax coated surface of Donna's cunt. Donna jerked and lunged against her restraints and a grunt of pain was wrenched from her lips. When he spoke he had that frightening kind of conversational tone that Junie was beginning to recognize as Bob when he was at his most detached and analytically cruel state. "She can't tell the difference between cold and hot now." A tiny thought occurred to her, that he must have to set aside a lot of his emotions to do these things; and that he had to be in absolute control of himself as well as of the woman under his hands.
Bob reached down and began to pick away the hardened wax that coated Donna's thighs and labia. The white wax came away in big pieces revealing the red flesh below. Again he ran the ice cube over Donna's skin and then pressed it directly against her clitoris. Donna grunted again surging weakly against bindings. Bob reached for the candle and lifted it up over her exposed tissues and began to drip the wax down. Each drop forced a pleading squeal from behind the gag in Donna's mouth.
Almost without being aware of her steps, Junie continued to creep closer, unable to fight the pull of curiosity. Her eyes were mesmerized by each sparkling drop of the melted wax as it spilled down and splashed down onto Donna's quivering flesh. She moved closer and closer until Bob looked up at her sharply and made a soft growling sound deep in his throat. "Junie, go back to bed."
She froze and looked up at him for the briefest of moments, the urge to obey struggling against her fascinated attraction, before she turned and fled back to her room. But she did not go back to bed. She knelt silent inside her door, peeking out the crack at the dimly lit tableau. She could not see much and Bob's voice was just a muted growl, but each whimper and grunt of pain he wrung from Donna echoed and seemed to fill Junie's ears. It seemed like an eternity of subtle movements, soft strangled groans and garbled pleading muffled by the gag before the sounds coming from Donna became almost continual. Only then did Junie hear Bob's words clearly as he barked out his final permission, "Now, my goddess, now."
Donna's cry of joy rose and rose, it built to a crescendo of ecstasy, and then fell to a long series of soft low moans of satisfaction. Junie watched as Bob quickly untied Donna's bonds and lifted her into his arms holding her close, murmuring softly. Junie felt a tear slip down her cheek and silently crept to her bed.
Junie was kneading a large lump of bread dough, looking across the kitchen counter at Donna as she sat at her favorite place at the kitchen table her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop when Bob came in with the mail. He dropped a large envelope on the table. He looked up at Junie and his eyes were serious. "This is for you, Junie. It is from FBI Agent Durant."
Junie's hands froze and then clenched, she looked down at the sight of her fists buried in the soft yeasty dough, watching it squeeze between her fingers. She shook off the wave of fear and went back to vigorously kneading the bread, picking it up and slamming it down and punching with sudden violence at it. Bob watched her with a smile beginning to turn up the corners of his mouth. He caught Donna's eye, "Our girl is going to knead that bread to death."
Donna laughed and commented, "Well I always thought that Junie's cooking was so good because she put so much love into it. I wonder what this bread will be like?"
Junie took a deep breath and put the mass of dough to one side to rise and washed her hands. She walked over to the table and looked at the fat envelope. It was large; almost 11X14, filled almost to bursting and the corners looked battered. Junie stared at it like it was a bomb or contained a snake. She cautiously pushed it across the table to Donna. "I think I would like my lawyer to look at this before me."
Donna shrugged and opened the fat envelope and pulled out a stack of papers and about a half dozen envelopes. Donna quickly scanned a cover letter and began to sort out the papers and envelopes. "Agent Durant has sent you copies of some of the crime reports from your break-in and the transcript from your interview with him and Agent Gold. These envelopes are letters from an author who wants to interview you for a book he is writing about Sam Card and a couple of news organizations that want to interview you for news articles." Junie made a face and violently shook her head.
Donna looked up at Junie and then at Bob, she held two small envelopes in her hand. "Junie, these are from the woman who was attacked in Oregon."
Junie felt her fingers flex in a sudden wave of curiosity, but also a curious reluctance, fearful of what she might find inside those little squares of paper. "Ma'am, could you read them?"
Donna looked at the envelopes, "These are dated about a week apart. I will read the oldest one first." She carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the single piece of lined notebook paper. Donna's eyes quickly scanned the letter and smiled. "Junie, you can read this yourself. She is just saying thank you for your kind words. I guess Agent Durant stopped by and gave her your message on his way to Texas." She handed Junie the letter.
Junie looked at the lined school paper and the rounded childish handwriting in pencil.
Hello,
My name is Monica.
I am sorry, but I don't even know your name. Agent Durant would not tell me your name. He said it is private. He said he would give you a letter if I wrote you.
Agent Durant said that Sam Card was stalking you, but that he was captured by the police before he could hurt you. I am so happy he did not hurt you. Agent Durant told me you said you were sorry. He said you said thank you for me being so brave.
I do not feel very brave. But thank you. It was nice for you to say that. I am so afraid of the trial, but Agent Durant tells me it won't be happening for at least another six months or so. He tells me to not worry about it and focus on getting well.
I hope you are doing okay.
Thank you for your kind words, Monica
Junie looked up from the letter. "She sounds so young and lonely. It sounds like the only person in the world she has is Agent Durant." Junie shuddered, "That is a scary thought. I wish I could write her back."
Donna looked up from the other letter and smiled, "I think this second letter may answer that wish." She held out two pages of the same rounded hand writing on the same lined notebook paper. "She gives you a mailing address in this letter."
Junie took the letter and began to read.
Hello again,
After writing the last letter, I started to wish I knew how you felt when you read my words. I found myself wondering more and more about you, wondering who you are, where you are.
I tried to ask Agent Durant, but he says he is not allowed to tell me. He suggested I write you again and tell you about myself and give you my mailing address. He said he thought that if I was honest you would write me back.
My name is Monica Bond. I am 24 years old. I am currently living at home with my mother, in Salem. I was going to college in Portland, Oregon studying psychology. I had a boyfriend that attended another college in another state. We played at a lot of kinky games over the internet. Some of these games were bondage games and rape role playing games, but not all of them. He was a lot more interested in that kind of stuff than I was, but I played along because he wanted me to. He would tell me to call him Master and began to talk group sex things. I have to admit I liked the idea of swinging and went along with it.
He said he was going to make arrangements for me to meet this guy here who had a girlfriend at the college he went to. It was supposed to be a kind of long distance swap thing. I was scared, but kind of excited by the idea too. It turns out that there was never another girl, it was just a lie to get me alone and vulnerable.
The only reason I am alive is because I told a friend about what was going on. When I did not call her and tell her things were okay, she came to check on me and scared the man away. I was in the hospital a long time. I still need at least one more surgery.
I moved back home with my mother after I got out of the hospital. My boyfriend broke up with me. I can't work right now and am broke. Oregon has a victim's fund that is helping pay for most of my hospital bills and there are some news organizations that have offered to pay me for interviews that I am talking with. Agent Durant says I cannot give them any information until after the trial, but that I can sign a contract with them with an advance now if I choose. He says he thinks it's a bad idea, but it's up to me.
I would like to get to know you. Agent Durant says you are nice person and that he liked you, but he did say you were a little shy. I hope you will write me back.
