Ept

Something I've been trying to get going on for a while. I figure if anyone thinks it's worth continuing, I'll give it another try. If not, that's fine as well...

*

It was about 1 am on a rainy Friday morning when my life changed. I was driving home from the Amtrak train station, having had a very long business meeting that previous day, and sneaking through the desolate back way to my house. I saw a car stopped on the side of the road, lights blinking in the falling rain. I pulled over, pulling my cell phone out. No signal -- great. I threw my rain jacket and a pair of driving gloves on and got out of the car, to see what was up.

The car was empty, although the door was open. The front passenger side was coated in vomit that reeked of alcohol, a purse in the middle divider section. I stepped away from the car and looked around, seeing what looked like a person in a long trench coat at the side of the road hunched over in the shadows about ten yards in front of the car.

"Are you alright?" I called out. The trenchcoated figure toppled over to its side, knees buckling, me rushing over. I saw a pair of reasonably sized dark heels peak out from under the hooded trenchcoat, opening the trenchcoat while standing over the person to reveal a brunette girl, very cute, in her early to mid-twenties, I'd figure. She was wearing an extremely tight-fitting red dress, showing off her smooth legs below the mid-thigh, very narrow waist, and a somewhat preposterously sized bosom. I closed the trenchcoat, and had a crisis of conscience. She was out, from what I could tell, and reeked of alcohol. No one was around, and I had my own personal demons screaming at me at the top of their lungs. I picked her up carefully, carrying her back to my truck and putting her in the backseat with a blanket over her. I looked in the back of her car and saw four large pieces of luggage on the seat and five hard metal briefcases on the floor -- I put those and the purse in the back of my truck. Her keys were still in the ignition, and I took them out, popping the trunk. I saw six large pieces of luggage, and put them in my truck for good measure as well, as well as a large duffel bag. I pulled away, driving home in peace and quiet, pulling into my garage and closing the door.

I moved the girl to my basement, opening the heavy metal door on the far north corner of my basement that was on the floor. It opened to a staircase, leading down into a small but livable room that had a metal gate and full heavy metal door for access, with a bed, sink, toilet, and shower inside. It was originally built as a fallout shelter, and had a separate well and septic system that was essentially brand new having never been used. The previous owners seemed not to have known about it -- they had kept the heavy rug that covered it in place and didn't mention it. I laid her on the bed, removing her heels and the trenchcoat, tying her limbs to the four legs of the bed. I moved her things into the outer section downstairs, and unpacked my things as well.

I couldn't imagine getting to sleep just yet, of course. I rifled through her purse -- her name was Natalie Quinlan, just turned 25 years of age, lived one state over, was a schoolteacher, and for some reason had $2,000 in $20 bills in the bottom of her purse. A little odd, but certainly stranger things had happened in this world. The four pieces of luggage that I had gotten out of her backseat were full of her clothing, an assortment of lingerie, socks, stockings, swimsuits, shorts, jeans, slacks, shirts, blouses, skirts, a few dresses, and two rather nice high-end dresses (a shiny sparkly sequined one and a tight black one, it appeared). Some odds and ends were included, such as a rabbit vibrator, some hygiene accessories, and two boxes of ultra slim tampons. It wasn't much, but enough to last her for about three weeks easily, I figured.

The hard metal briefcases were where my thoughts changed, and for the worse. They looked like they should have either combination locks or be attached by handcuff to someone's hand who was carrying a pistol, but just had regular latches in this case. In one case, there was a .357 Magnum revolver, stainless steel finish, with a couple of fast-loaders, cleaning kit, and two boxes' worth of ammunition. In another case, there was a Glock 9mm pistol, with two spare magazines (and one in the pistol), cleaning kit, and two boxes' worth of ammunition. In another case, there was a high-capacity Colt .45ACP pistol, with cleaning kit, two spare magazines, and two boxes' worth of ammunition. In the fourth case, there was a small variety of shooting optics (laser pointers for each firearm, one separate scope, and accessories) and a small-of-the-back holster, and in the last kit there was a pair of military-grade night vision goggles and four extra boxes of ammunition for each firearm. At this point, I was going to have to check out the remaining luggage.

The duffel bag contained a bunch of shoes and some spare boxes of ammunition, along with a heavy winter coat. The six large pieces of luggage that I had taken from her trunk were even more shocking. Six million U.S. Dollars ($100 bills, non-consecutive, unmarked, it looked like) were found in four of the pieces of luggage, along with an assortment of gold and silver coins from various countries. In the last two pieces of luggage, about 50 kilos of cocaine were packed tightly and securely into one-kilo bags. I had no idea as to its purity, but I'm sure someone was missing it right about now. I was in too much shock to do much of anything at this point, I couldn't believe that my one misstep, my one moment of weakness, had led me to this. I locked up everything downstairs, just taking the Colt pistol and case, along with the holster, closing the doors securely, and sat down at the kitchen table. I poured myself a glass of single malt scotch and sipped it while listening to the local AM news radio station.

I woke up, head down on my kitchen table, at a little past 7 am. I snapped my head upwards, the sun glaring into my eyes. I heard a commercial for the local car dealer on the radio, followed by a station identification.

"Breaking news from Ford County." Ford County was the next county over, where I had picked up Natalie and her things. "The sheriffs department arrested two men involved in the case of a missing schoolteacher from Smithville...." Natalie was a schoolteacher, and her drivers license had her address in Smithville, a large town the next state over. "The men are part of a suspected drug ring, although authorities have no additional information for us at this time."

I stood up, grabbing my winter hiking mask and putting it on, going downstairs to properly introduce myself to my guest. I holstered the pistol, keeping my driving gloves on, I figured. As I opened the heavy metal door to the room, the prison-bar-style cage frame still in front of me, I saw Natalie's head turn my way.

"Who are you? What are you doing? Where am I?" she screamed. I pulled the pistol out and held it down by my side. Her mouth clammed right up upon seeing the firearm.

"I will answer your questions once you answer mine." I had to admit, Natalie looked much better in the light. Her brunette hair reached her smooth, slim shoulders, her pixie-like face simply irresistible in terms of its symmetry and flow. "Your name is Natalie Quinlan, and you're a schoolteacher from over in Smithville, right?" She nodded. "Right now, the sheriff's department in Ford County over has arrested two men in conjunction with your disappearance. They have not released your name at this moment." I let her take that in for a moment. "What I want to know is why a girl like you was carrying this much in drugs and money and weapons."

"Look, I...."

"Speak now, sweetie, or forever hold your peace." Her eyes went wide at this threat.

"OK, OK!" She shivered. "I graduated from college three years ago, and got a job teaching in the Smithville School District in one of their middle schools. I hadn't done many drugs in college, but the guy who lived down the street from me in Smithville dealt. It was convenient and he sold stuff for cheap. I got into some debt with him, and I was paying it back by connecting him to some of my students. Anyway, his suppliers got rough with him when I was there, and they said I could help with forgiving his debts by running some drugs and money during my vacations. Well, I got scared. They said if I didn't, they'd be taking it out of me personally." I wasn't entirely sure what she meant here, but I had a suspicion.

"What did they mean exactly, they'd be taking it out of you personally?" Her face tensed up, anger flaring in her eyes, spitting a bit as she struggled to get the words out.

"They were gonna rape me! All of them, I guessed." She began to cry louder a bit at the mention of this. "Anyway, I knew where they kept their stuff, and the guard on duty was easy enough to distract if I showed up in a dress like this. I packed it all up, said I was making a big run." She sobbed a bit, gasping for breath as she tried to move onto the next sentence. "I sat there in the parking lot, but I couldn't do it. So I went to the nearest liquor store, and bought a bottle of premixed margaritas. I just kept drinking as I drove, and then I remember stopping, and then I remember waking up here."

"Is that all, Natalie?" I asked. "Are you still addicted to coke? Anyone know that you were leaving or heading this way?"

"No, no one knows that I was leaving, like I could tell my friends or family about any of this!"

"Are you still addicted?"

She was silent for a moment. "Yes," she said quietly, eyes shut, her face becoming more withdrawn. "What are you going to do to me? Why am I here? Who are you!?"

"I don't work for any drug dealer, or any police agency. You're here because I found you drunk and passed out on the side of the road in Ford County and brought you to my home. What I'm going to do to you....well, I had something in mind originally, but we'll see how it all pans out now. I'm going to come in and untie you from the bed."

"Oh God, you're gonna rape me, aren't you? Please don't, I'm begging you-"

"Shut up if you want me to untie you, otherwise, I'll let you stay there until you go to the bathroom all over yourself." She shut up very quickly, me unlocking the large padlock keeping the gate door closed. I unknotted the ties to her ankles, and then her wrists. She got up slowly as I walked out of the room, relocking the padlock. She walked around on the rug, her bare feet rather cute as well.

Her figure was fantastic, I had to say. Everything about her looked fantastic, to be honest. "I'm going to bring down some food, water, and some bathroom accessories for you. Relax." I walked out of the room, closing the heavy metal door behind me. I came back down in 15 minutes, carrying a tray of cereal, a banana, and a carton each of milk and orange juice. On my back was a backpack with a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo and of conditioner, and a large soft towel in it. I slid the food and bathroom accessories through the bars to her. I smiled, as I realized she had been screaming like a maniac while I was away.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I should tell you, this room is completely soundproof. If the large metal door is shut, you can run a full fledged sound system down here, and no one will hear it." She gulped, as she began to slowly eat. I slid through a matching black satin bra and panty set, pair of socks, jeans, and a t-shirt while she ate. I walked out, closing the doors behind me while I had my breakfast and showered. I walked back down, this time in black boots, black jeans, a tight black t-shirt that showed off my well-built upper body, my black driving gloves, and my winter weather mask. Natalie was sitting on her bed, lost in thought, wearing the new clothes. She looked damn sexy, a bit of midriff showing while her curves were well emphasized.

"What's going to happen to me? What are you going to do to me?" she kept murmuring as I stood there and ogled her. "Please don't hurt me, I'm begging you."

"Is this cocaine pure or is ready for the street?" I asked.

"It's pure," she said. "The stuff in my purse has been cut." I rummaged around in her purse, finding a small bag of coke, a small personal flip mirror, with a razor inside it. I poured a bit onto the mirror, cut it up finely and divided it into four lines. I passed the mirror along with one of the $20 bills in her purse through the bars to her. She wasted no time in snorting it up, passing it back to me. "Thank you," she said with a tear in her eye.

"Don't cry, Natalie," I said. "You're going to get off this as soon as I can wean you off of it."

"Why?" she asked. I didn't respond as I walked out of the room. I came back down with that day's paper, and a plate of fruits and vegetables. I told her it was Friday and I needed to get some work done.

I thanked my lucky stars for my job as a professional freelance technical writer. I spent too many years in the lab, in retrospect, before realizing that I didn't like slaving away at the bench that much. I made my own hours, made plenty of money, and had a pretty idyllic life on the surface. I didn't have anything planned for that Friday anyway, but I needed some time to dig around the news sites for a while. It was pretty much the same story across the local news websites. Lunch was chicken, rice, and some mixed vegetables for Natalie and I, me bringing her lunch down after having finished mine. I tossed in some extra fruit as a dessert for her, and brought down a large thermos of water for her to drink during the afternoon. While she looked fantastic, I suspected that keeping her fed and hydrated would help with eventually getting her off the coke for good. In the afternoon, my survey of the news sites gave me different information -- it appeared that they had found a completely incinerated body near the car in Ford County, and it appeared to be Natalie's remains. They also released her name, and said that if she was out there, to turn herself into the nearest police station to be taken into protective custody as part of a federal case. I showed up at dinner with three slices of a mixed veggie/meatball pizza (I had eaten four and kept one in the fridge for the next day) and more water and fruit.

Natalie was very quiet outside of a murmured "Thank you" after she finished eating. She looked at me with a longing look, and I knew what she wanted. I took out her little baggie of coke and mirror and prepared her a few more lines. Her face brightened up, and she eagerly took the mirror and $20 bill to snort up her addiction. She passed them back to me, looking satisfied with the world. I left her be until about 10:30 pm, when I came back down with two sports bottles, one filled with water, another filled with a protein powder I had mixed.

"Here's a bottle of water and protein powder. Drink the protein powder before you go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning," I said.

"Can...can I ask why you're doing this?" she asked quietly, looking away from me.

"When I first saw you, I had horrible plans for you," I said. "I was going to use you and abuse you in ways you would curse me forever for doing. But seeing how pathetic your life is, mine doesn't seem quite so bad as to inflict my miseries on you. You deserve better than to die from some sort of overdose." She stared at me, me walking back upstairs.

That night in bed, I thought about Natalie, imagining her naked form pressed against mine. It colored my dreams, fantasizing about having her every way a man could have a woman. I woke up at around 7 am again, bringing down some breakfast and a fresh towel for Natalie. I saw her still asleep, it appeared, the sheet tangled around her feet while she was just in her matching black satin bra and panty set. I have to say, she looked stunning, her impossibly trim waist surrounded on one end by relatively narrow but still adequately curvy hips, and topped by a bulgingly full bust that looked nearly mindboggling on a girl of her stature. I opened up the cage, leaving the tray on the sink and replacing her towel. I left her some fresh clothes from her luggage in there, taking out the old ones. The clanging of the gate door and me relocking it caused her to wake up startled. "Some food, a fresh towel, and new clothes for you," I said, leaving without an additional word.

I went to the gym that morning, also hitting up the Saturday morning judo class for good measure. I came home, showered, and had some lunch by 1 pm. I brought some down to Natalie, who had long since showered and gotten dressed (jeans and a spaghetti-strapped top, her wide bra straps were very visible), having tossed her used bra and panties outside of the cage. I could tell she had been crying.

"What's wrong Natalie?" I asked.

"Noth....nothing," she said.

"Did you miss your cocaine fix this morning?" I responded. She shook her head no. "Just checking, since I was just about to prepare you a few lines right now." She looked straight at me, making solid eye contact in contrast to most of her conversations with me.

"Please," she choked out. I prepared her a few more lines from the bag, now empty. I slid the bill and mirror through the bars, Natalie snorting them up in no time. She slid them back through, sniffling.

"What do you want with me?"

"Well, the police think that two men, who likely work for the drug ring, killed you and think they have evidence. Which means that if you don't exist, you don't have to worry about anyone coming after you." Her face went wide, almost breaking into a smile. "Of course, if you were to show up now, they'd wonder what really went on, and you'd certainly be a target, I'd think." Her look of joy dissipated almost immediately. "But, of course, if you stay here, you'd be perfectly safe." I paused. "As to what I want with you, well, that's neither here nor there at the moment." I walked out of the room, locking up behind me.

The next two weeks with Natalie were much the same, just keeping her well-nourished and getting her down to about three coke-snorting sessions every two days instead of at least four to around six or seven like she was doing for far too long. The police appeared to have an open-and-shut case against the two arrested individuals for Natalie's "murder," and I hadn't seen or heard of any drug-related untoward activity in my area above and beyond the typical delinquents and oxygen thieves. I started lowering the amount of coke I gave Natalie each time, but still with the same regularity.

I put a TV and a DVR loaded with exercise programs in the subbasement, not in the gated room but in the open space between the heavy metal door and the gate. I had picked up Natalie some workout clothing (including a sports bra online, as it was sized especially for a woman of Natalie's exceptionally ample bust, which seemed to oscillate between a 34F and 32G) as well as a few workout mats.

I could tell that Natalie was working out, as her exercise clothes needed to be washed regularly over the course of the next month. She seemed to not change much in appearance, but generally looked more solid and healthy, especially as I was continuing to taper down her cocaine usage. The suspects drove a plea bargain, or so it was being said in the papers, and I didn't expect them to last very long in jail given that they were part of a larger investigation into the drug ring. Natalie took this news very well for the most part, glad to hear that those who would do her harm were being taken care of for the most part.

Natalie began to generally behave in a slightly more talkative and open manner towards me, and I managed to walk the fine line between helpfulness and aloofness. After another two weeks, there had been an official plea bargain struck for the two suspects, and friends of Natalie from high school had started up a scholarship in her name. Even the aspect of her fringe involvement were being whitewashed, everyone publicly sympathetic and understanding. She wept at this news, not able to believe the outpouring of belated concern for her.