Abducted Ch 06 8

When Sarah woke up the next morning, her head was foggy, and there was just a hint of a headache brewing behind her eyes. It took her a few seconds to realize she was back in her rapist's basement, but it took another minute to realize that she had no memory of coming back down here last night. She searched her memory, but found the details of last night fuzzy with more than a few blank spots. Had that mother fucker really drugged her? She could remember the dinner, and how hard she had cum. She could remember how much she'd enjoyed the night and how happy she'd been, but the details were scant. All she could really had were flashes - a second here, and a moment there. It wasn't enough to put all the pieces together.

She knew one thing for sure though - she knew she had to get the fuck out of here. She'd just had the most intensely sexual night of her life, and it was with her rapist after she'd been kidnaped. She couldn't imagine anything more fucked up in this world. As she sat up she noticed that she was wearing panties, so it wasn't like the whole thing was an elaborate dream. As much as she should be grateful to be wearing clothes again, the cumstained crotch gave her pause. Sarah thanked god silently that she had an IUD, and that her kidnaper hadn't caught on to that fact. She made a mental note to beg him to pull out if he ever fucked her again so he wouldn't grow suspicious.

Then she sat up, hearing the familiar clank of the chain on her ankle as she sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. She didn't remember putting the panties back on, but the scattering of clothing on the floor around the bed certainly seemed to suggest that she'd gotten redressed upstairs before getting undressed down here. Had they had sex more than once? Sarah sighed. She had no way of knowing just how much of last night she had forgotten.

Fuck.

Why couldn't she have woken up in his bed, wrapped around his broad chest like just another blanket? Why did he have to lock her away again like this and ruin the moment? Maybe if she'd woken up in a normal bed like a normal girl she could have believed that she'd chosen this. That this was all just some long kinky weekend where one thing had led to another and she'd finally found her perfect man. It didn't matter. Sarah was back in her hole, and her warden was up there enjoying breakfast without her. He probably didn't even think about her until his dick got hard in the afternoon and he came down to work out his frustrations on his captive cunt. She never mattered to him, and that's why she had to get out of here, she said to herself trying to psych herself up and back away from the abyss of submission. That siren song sorely tempted her, but she couldn't give in.

She'd gnaw her own foot off if she had to. Another week of these mind games and she'd be his simpering little slut. His torments were working. She felt them last night. Hurt her, weaken her, and then show her some kindness. Wash, rinse, repeat. If she didn't escape soon, she never would, and that thought scared her more than anything else that happened so far. She stood up, and when she did, something fell out from underneath her thin pillow and onto the floor. Sarah looked, and her heart skipped a beat. It was the steak knife, from last night She had managed to smuggle it down here. Suddenly she was proud of herself for once. She hadn't entirely folded like a cheap suit. She'd lulled her captor into a false sense of security with her body and then smuggled a tool down here to escape.

It was a brilliant plan - she just didn't know how she was going to do it. Sarah looked down at her foot as she contemplated her last idea about gnawing off her foot and decided against it. She'd seen Saw; she knew what a terrible idea that was. The knife wasn't sharp enough to cut the chain though, so she had to come up with another use for it. Maybe she could pick the lock, Sarah thought optimistically, adjusting the manacle so she could look at the mechanism. A quick glance showed that was never going to happen. The knife was much too wide. It had to be good for something though, right? She might have managed to sneak it down here, but he'd eventually find it. Hell - he'd probably notice it was missing when he did the dishes later, so she had to think fast.

Slowly Sarah walked around the room, inspecting everything. She couldn't use it to cut through the chain. She couldn't use it to pry open the window. She couldn't use it to pick a lock. Once she'd paced around the entire boundary she sighed and slumped against the wall. The thing was only good as a weapon. Was she going to have to get her rapist down here and then threaten him or kill him? She didn't like those odds, but what else could she do? All she had was a sharp serrated blade, a flimsy wooden handle and the thin back edge that might be useful as a screwdriver in certain situations. She didn't need to unscrew anything though, did she?

Suddenly Sarah was up like a shot. She scrambled quickly to the center of the room, where the chain was bolted to the floor. It wasn't though. It was screwed by four large straight slotted screws, that she just might be able to fit the dull edge of the knife into. For a moment, she almost whooped in delight, but she stopped herself. That would give her away for sure. Instead she set to work, slowly unscrewing each of the large screws. She slipped a couple times, but managed to avoid cutting herself. Eventually though, she was no longer attached to the floor. She couldn't do anything about the manacle still attached to her ankle, but this was a start.

Now that she was free, Sarah looked around the room, trying to decide what resources she had at her disposal. She discarded the heels immediately, because they'd be less than useful over uneven ground. First she cut a slit down the side of her dress putting it on so she could run if she needed to. Next she bundled up the chain and put it in one of her sheets, so she could carry it out of the way. Lastly she took the knife and shredded the fitted sheet. Once she had a few long and ragged strips of cloth she wrapped them around her feet before tying them around her ankle. They weren't much, but they'd keep her feet safe from most hazards as long as she picked a careful path.

Then, as ready as she would ever be, with the knife in her hand she crept upstairs. If the door was locked, she would probably just burst into tears, but he rarely seemed to lock it since she was already chained to the floor. The knob turned though, and she smiled, slowly entering the kitchen, looking out for her captor. If she was lucky she could catch him unawares and gut him, but she'd settle for him being out of the house. Unfortunately, neither was true. She heard him humming to himself while he worked on something in the living room. The TV was playing, so she might be able to sneak up on him, but from what she had seen of the living room during dinner last night, all the seats he might be sitting in were facing her. Better to flee and let the police deal with him, she thought. So with her heart pounding in her throat, she slowly edged her way to the back door, and ever so carefully opened it.

The chill hit her at once as she slipped outside and drew her first free breath in days. It was autumn, and the leaves were turning, but they hadn't yet fallen, so the whole forest was red and gold, with the occasional evergreen. It would have been lovely if she hadn't been kidnapped and brutalized day after day. A little cold wouldn't hurt her, and soon enough she'd be at one of his neighbor's houses calling the police. But as Sarah looked around she realized there were no neighbors. Sarah hadn't been camping much since she was a kid, but as she stood on the back porch, gazing around, she couldn't recall being this far away from other people in - well, maybe not ever.

There were only trees in every direction, as far as she could see. She sighed heavily, and for a moment she had to will herself not to cry. Of course he would have her locked up somewhere crazy like this. She supposed she could just double back to the front of the house and then follow the driveway out to the main road. But they were on dirt roads for a long time... what if that dirt road was his driveway. Could she walk five or ten miles back to the pavement before he noticed she was missing and went searching for her?

It seemed hopeless. Then she noticed it. A faint smudge of smoke on the horizon to the east, further into the forest. It was too small to be a forest fire, so it had to be a neighbor right? Or maybe some campers at least. Surely they'd have a phone, right? It was a slender thread of hope to hang her life on, but she took it, and headed in that direction, jogging to the edge of the tree line before slowing to a walk once she was safely out of view. Speed and time were her allies, but she had no idea how long her makeshift slippers would last or how far she had to go.

The forest was pretty old, so the canopy kept the undergrowth to a minimum, which was good, because if it had been a tangled jungle she might as well give up now. She continued though. If she stayed she'd only ever be a fucktoy for a demented pervert, but if she fled, with a little luck and therapy she could get her old life back. That didn't seem quite as good a trade as it might have a couple days ago, but it was hers, and she wasn't going to let some monster take it from her.

For the first hour she was heading away from that house of horrors, constantly looking over her shoulder in fear that he would find her. For the next hour she was heading towards that sliver of hope, content that at this point she was nothing but a needle in a haystack. But after a while she decided that she must have somehow missed the fire she was looking for. It had been hours. She was making good time, so if she was heading the right way, she would be there by now, right? She was lost. The same canopy of Birch, cedar, and hickory that made the forest floor navigable also prevented her from using the sun to navigate. It was already starting to get chilly, and if the temperature kept dropping once the sun went down... she only had a few more hours before she was really screwed.

But it was better to die on her feet than live on her knees, right? She had trouble convincing herself of that, especially after that whole gnaw off her leg thing earlier. Her legs were sore, she was thirsty, her ankle with the manacle around it ached, and she shivered whenever she stopped walking. For a moment she wondered if she should have just stayed. Would it really have been so bad to submit? To be that freak's little pet? Even if it just kept her warm and fed for a few more traumatic days? He seemed like he would be more than good to her if she would just submit to his ownership. She'd even enjoyed some of the most brutal things he'd done to her in retrospect. Sarah stopped and shook her head, banishing the thought.

She couldn't think like that, just because things weren't looking good. Hope was the last thing she had left to hold on to. This was probably the only chance she would ever have to escape, and whether he killed her or the forest did, at least she would be free. Reluctantly she started walking again. It was a great line for a hero in a movie, but it didn't make the idea of disappearing into the woods never to be seen again any less frightening. Sarah wracked her brain, trying to find something optimistic to cheer her up. When she'd walked a dozen paces though, the best she could come up with was that once it got darker she would be able to see a fire, or a light in the window or something and head towards that. That was when she heard the noise behind her.

Sarah whirled around, knife in hand to find her abductor sitting on a fallen tree less than 50 feet from her. He hadn't even stepped on a branch - he'd picked up a twig and snapped it between his hands to get her attention. She brandished the blade menacingly at him as she backed against the nearest tree to find a defensible position.

"Hello Sarah," he said, mockingly, "Long time no see."

"You stay the hell away from me," she said, the edge of hysteria in her voice as fear and anger surged within her. In an instant her fight or flight reactions were in overdrive. "I'm not going back with you!" Her voice echoed in the woods when she yelled, and her rapist let the sound die away before he spoke again.

"Not that way you aren't, that's for sure." He smiled. "My property backs up to national forest land, so if you keep walking that way about 40 miles you'll eventually get to a highway, but I think we both know you'll freeze to death in 6 or 8 hours the way things are going." She noticed that he was wearing a jacket, a stocking cap, hiking shoes, and everything else one would need to be perfectly comfortable in this weather while she was freezing in a thin dress and carrying a chain.

"You're lying," she said defiantly. "You just want me to give up so you can lock me back in your basement you sick fuck." She spat into the leaves after she said that, daring him to come at her. Maybe he was lying and maybe he wasn't but if she could provoke him into attacking her and she could take him with her that might be enough of a victory for her soul to rest easy.

He just laughed and shook his head though. "I'm telling you Sarah. There's nothing out there. Maybe a couple old mining claims or a Firewatch tower that hasn't been used in years, but that's it."

"But the smoke, she said, the fire..." her heart sank, even if the tip of her knife didn't. He wasn't lying. Her position was hopeless.

"Oh," he said, smiling knowingly, "You're looking for the camp. I see. Well, you passed it. It's sort of 300 yards away, he said pointing to his right. Just on the other side of those hills there. You've actually been slowly walking around it for the last half hour or so."

Her eyes darted back and forth between her tormentor and the direction he was pointing. "You're lying."

"Maybe, but probably not." he grinned. "What fun would that be? You want to get to the fire? You want to get warm? Go ahead. I'll tell you what, I'll give you a 1 minute head start." Her rapist turned and walked to the nearest tree, putting his head and arms against it so he couldn't see. "One one thousand," he yelled out and then paused. "Two one thousand."

Sarah was astonished. Was everything a game to him? She thought for a moment that she should try to run up and stab him with his back turned, but that was just a fit of pique; getting in arms reach of that monster was always a terrible idea. No, running was the right answer. But should she-- "Three one thousand" he interrupted her train of thought. She should stop wasting time is what she should do, she chastised herself. There were only two choices. Toward where he wanted her to go or away. Which would he expect? That was easy. He'd expect her to disobey him, but since he expected her to then maybe - no, she shouldn't get caught in a recursive set of assumptions, she should-- "Four one thousand" Every second that tolled hurt her. This choice would decide the rest of her life, however long that might be, and she needed to...

Fuck it, she thought as she started running toward the hills he pointed at. Maybe he was lying, but it would be the best place to find a hiding spot too if it came to it. "Five one thousand" was the only thing he said or did when she got within 50 feet of him. And then she was past him. Each number he called out told her he wasn't getting any closer, and so she didn't spare a backward glance. She was running as fast as she could with the damn chain. It was the only thing that was weighing her down.

For the next 15 seconds, she ran as fast and as far as she could, covering more than 50 yards, then one of her makeshift shoes started to come undone. Sarah didn't stop to try to fix it though - she didn't dare. Instead she endured the cold hard ground as it abused her sensitive foot. From then on she was slower, less from the pain of what she was stepping on than from picking her route so she didn't cut herself too badly in a way that might force her to stop. She was almost to the top of the hill, gasping and perhaps 150 yards from where she had started when she heard him call out the number "Fifty five one thousand". She had five more seconds to figure out how she was going to get away from him before he came after her. She was already exhausted and running on pure adrenaline, but this added pressure was enough to make her want to puke. What could she do in five seconds? She looked around for a hiding place, then suddenly realized she smelled smoke. That mother fucker wasn't lying. The campfire was somewhere over here. "Fifty Six one thousand" Should she stop running and hide or keep running and try to beat him there?

Hiding was probably the right decision, but if he captured and dragged her back to that hellhole she would never forgive herself for cowering in a corner like a little bitch. "Fifty Seven one thousand." No. She would run. She had a minute head start on her kidnaper, and with any luck whoever was camped there wouldn't just have a cell phone - they would have a gun. She poured on the speed, doing her very best not to let her loss of a shoe hinder her. The monster in pursuit of her might have shoes, but she had desperation and a fucking knife. She picked up speed as she ran down the far side of the hill when she heard "Ready or not, Bitch, Here I come!" yelled in the distance, and her heart skipped a beat. She had perhaps a minute of freedom left before she'd have to fight for it.

Time no longer passed in seconds or minutes. It passed in the number of ragged breaths she took and how hard her lungs burned. It passed in the number of painful strides she took as her right foot began to complain about it's abuse and her left ankle screamed about ice cold manacle chaffing against it. After only a few of those precious moments, it was measured in how loudly she could hear her pursuer. The smoke was stronger now, so she had to be getting close, even if he was getting constantly closer. Then she saw it. Not a fire in the fading light... or people... but she saw an orange dome tent half hidden behind two trees. That had to be it. She still had a chance!

"Hey!" She yelled, less loudly than she had hoped for because she was gasping for breath. "I'm here, I'm right here! Help!"

A long moment passed and she didn't see or hear any change. Her heart sank. Could it be that no one was here? Were they still out hunting away from base camp? She could see the embers of the campfire now, along with a backpack and some other gear hanging from a nearby tree.

"Help, Anyone, I need help!" She shouted again, desperation plain in her tone this time. She slowed down slightly, approaching the camp, looking for any sign as to where the occupant was. It was only as she slowed down that she heard how close he was getting to her. She pivoted, dropping the chain, and whirling around with the steak knife. It was just in time, and he dodged to the side to avoid 4 inches of steel being rammed into his guts.

"Very good Sarah." he praised her, only slightly out of breath "You made it, not that it will do you any good."

"Get the fuck away from me," she lunged forward feinting with the knife trying to keep him from getting anywhere close to her. "These guys will be back any minute and they will fucking shoot you. If you don't run, you're fucking dead."

Her rapist stopped trying to get closer to her for a minute as he had a good long belly laugh at her expense. "Is that what you think, slut? You think you're minutes from salvation and I'm dead? You want strangers to kill me after all I've done for you? That hurts." He walked towards her then, far less playful than his earlier attempt. This time he was going to get what he wanted.