📚 rebecca Part 6 of 20
rebecca-ch-06
NON CONSENT STORIES

Rebecca Ch 06

Rebecca Ch 06

by execuwriter
19 min read
3.59 (13300 views)
adultfiction

ROAD TRIP

"Do I really need to get in there?" I plead to Garth, attempting to appear as aggrieved as possible, hoping to avoid being stuffed in the trunk of my Chevrolet Cavalier.

"If we get split up, I might want to be able to come back here. And when I'm asleep, I certainly don't want to be woken up by no goddamn light from a police helicopter shining in my fucking eyes because you've told the cops where this shit hole is!"

"Don't flatter yourself. They ain't gonna send no goddamn helicopter up here after you; maybe just a deputy and the sanitation department to knock down this shack after you get a round put in your head when you go out to take a piss."

I had become brazen over these last few weeks during which Garth had come to enjoy me. The long tender kisses that heralded the outbursts of passion we'd share were signs that the man I hoped he'd become was emerging.

The man who still held me captive would insult me or my heritage after my sarcastic retorts to his Neanderthal screeds, but I knew he secretly appreciated being in the company of someone who doesn't accept their world the way it is. Although our conceptions of an ideal world were poles apart, in our enmity, we were one.

"You're going into the goddamn trunk. And the more you bitch, the longer you're staying in there."

It has turned to fall. I have enjoyed watching the cascade of colors on the trees during the walks we have taken along the wooded trails through which Garth's ancestors were connected to the other settlers of the area whose descendants had long since abandoned their properties in this inhospitable territory.

But the decrepit farmhouse in which we dwell will not keep out the Arctic chill that descends from time to time on these mountains in the winter months. So we will return to our home town and I will stay under the wary eye of Garth, to whom I have made the promise not to reveal the crimes of bank robbery, rape, and kidnapping of which he certainly is guilty.

"I could get carbon monoxide poisoning!"

"And then I wouldn't have to worry about you going to the goddamn police!

"Then who would you fuck?"

"You know, this ain't worth it. I think I'm just gonna chain you up inside the house and let you fucking starve to death. You ain't even worth a goddamn bullet!"

"OK, OK. I'll get into the trunk."

I place my right foot into the trunk, but he pulls me back.

"No, no. Not that way."

"Well then, how?"

"I ain't gonna have you making no noise in there if we get stopped by a cop."

"Oh no! You're not going to tie me up!"

I back away from the car.

"The fuck I'm not. And I'm going to gag you, too."

I take off down the road. I lose my right sandal and then shake the other one off. The stones hurt my feet but I continue running, even knowing I have no chance of eluding my pursuer, whose steps I hear pounding on the ground as he closes in behind me.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"You're going to have to catch me and drag me back as I bite and scratch you if you intend for me to ride in the fucking trunk of my car with my hands tied behind my back and a gag in my mouth!"

It is then that Garth's arms surround me. Resistance is now futile. I try to run but only manage another two steps before his arms tighten around my torso like a vise. My arms are immobilized at my sides and I do not resist as he takes me down to the ground-he the lion and I the gazelle awaiting the coup de gras.

But gazelles do not have the cunning of a human woman. I am lying flat on my back on the ground. Garth's eyes are beady, his countenance grim with anger as he expects me to continue resisting the indignity of being restrained in the trunk of my car.

I wrap my arms around him and draw his lips to mine. We exchange a passionate kiss and I feel the tension leaving his body.

"You didn't expect me to go in there without a fight, did you boss?"

"Fucking crazy bitch!"

The words he uttered were not meant insultingly, but instead were an expression of relief, convinced that he was now that his cargo to Pittsburgh would remain passive during the journey.

I feel his crotch. My lover is tumescent.

"Do you want me to do something about that?"

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I want to put my lips around it and suck it, and then I want you to shove it in and out of my pussy until it explodes."

"And then you'll let me tie you up and put you in the trunk?"

"I'll just lie in there, quiet and satisfied, while you just drive us along."

He plants his lips on mine. Our mouths open and our tongues wrestle as I wrap my arms around his torso, trying to mimic the strength with which he grabbed me and realizing that, while my physical prowess is feeble compared to his, the strength of my love far exceeds that of his body.

He grinds his crotch into mine and the mass between his legs exerts its magical prowess on my intimate parts which become alive. I become wet as we kiss and begin rocking my pelvis to stoke the fire that was building inside me.

We roll over and I land on top. I shed my black camisole and my nipples become erect as the cold mountain air caresses my bosom. I then collapse upon my man's sturdy chest and feel his heart pound as he envelops me with his powerful arms.

"Oh Garth, will it be the same back home?" I fret.

"As long as you don't spill the beans to the cops or put a round in my head. You know, no jury would convict you of murder for killing me and you could make quite a bit of dough if you write a book about what you've been through."

"Garth, don't spoil this!"

He takes the hint and plants his lips on mine. We kiss as tears stream down my face.

"Quit blubbering. I know you ain't going to the cops, at least not if I treat you right."

"It isn't that. I'm gonna miss this place!"

"This is a dump. So when we get home, I'm gonna get us some more money and we can have ourselves a nice place."

"You don't understand. This is where I fell in love with you. And I might never again get to see this place. You won't let even let me know where it is!"

"You'll forget this shit hole once we're staying in some place classy."

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"Garth, I don't want you robbing any more banks!"

"Don't worry. I won't let you get named as an accessory. I'll tell them you didn't know squat about what I was up to."

"Garth, it isn't that. I don't want to be separated from you. I don't want you going to jail or getting killed."

"The kind of guy I am, I can't promise you that ain't gonna happen."

"You mean the kind of guy you were."

I plant my lips on his and kiss them softly; smiling as I then regard the smudges of my lipstick that now surround the mouth of my ubermensch. Straddling his hips, I then undo the belt that holds up his khaki shorts, grimacing as I regard the German eagle that adorns the buckle, a symbol of the oppressors of my people whose ideology Garth still claims to share.

I undo his zipper and smile salaciously as his tumescent organ emerges, hinting at the pleasure I will experience when he allows it to penetrate me. He smiles and his eyes sparkle when he realizes that I am about to fellate him, and my eyes do not leave his as I lift myself up and move toward his crotch to envelop him with my mouth.

I hear him sigh as his cock slides into my mouth. The taste of his semen tells me that his desire for me is as great as mine for him. As my lips caress the shaft of his organ, I feel his fingers play with my hair. Before he can explode, to his dismay I expel him, but if I am to ride in the trunk of my car, it is only reasonable that he completely pleasure me.

He grabs my torso and yanks me forward so that our hips are again pressed against each other. He seizes the waist of my jeans, ripping the button off the front and pulls them down over my hips. He pulls the flimsy black g-string aside and an instant later his cock fills my wet pussy.

I slide up and down the rod on which I am impaled as my lover steels himself to allow me my satisfaction. I cry out for maybe the last time to the creatures in the woods, proclaiming that a human female has been satisfied. Moments later, Garth explodes, and eager to fulfill him, I madly thrust my pelvis to pump the lava from the volcano that has exploded inside me, hoping that in better times I might conceive his child.

We lay together among the dandelions and the blades of grass that have emerged between the rocks which form the surface of the road that leads away from our domicile. I am cradled in my lover's arms, listening to the chirping of the crickets and the birdsong that make afternoons in the forest so peaceful.

"You don't got to ride in the trunk. If the cops figure out I'm the guy that did the bank job or that you're missing and I made you come here, it won't take them no time to find this place."

"I don't mind. I'd rather this place be like a kingdom that one dreams about, with my love for you the only route back."

"Girl, you're like a mouse that's in love with a cat."

"Except that the prey of a feline becomes terrified when the cat toys with it; when you play with me, it's orgasmic."

"I could just blindfold you when we drive out of here. Or if you really don't want to know where this place is, you can close your eyes."

"I want to be in the trunk. I'm your captive. And this captive must submit to her captor's will."

I stand up and pull my jeans up over my hips, realizing I must change into another pair. I pull the camisole back over my naked chest as I walk down the path to retrieve my sandals, feeling Garth's eyes on me, and I feel pride that my Nazi lover is unable to resist his untermenschen lover's body.

I continue down the path back to the car. I open the passenger door and crawl inside, retrieving a pair of jeans from one of the boxes in the back seat, and then strip off the pair minus the button that I am wearing. Garth does not take his eye off me as I wiggle into the fresh pair. I then dig through the boxes of our few possessions, eventually finding a hank of rope and a red scarf and walk behind the car. Sitting on lip of the trunk, I begin wrapping the rope around my ankles.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"If I'm going to ride in the trunk, I might as well be comfortable"

I wrap the rope three times around my ankles, pull it tight, wrap it three times between my ankles, and then tie the ends together as Garth intently watches. I try to pull my ankles apart, but the rope holds them together securely.

"This ain't no fucking trick, is it?"

"I'll feel sexy, helpless in the trunk, while you decide whether I'm worth keeping around or not."

"You're still a goddamn Jew! Don't tempt me!"

"You sure do know how to spoil the mood."

I am playing with the red scarf, which I intend to stuff in my mouth when the time is right.

"You know how to get me in the mood."

"Is that some kind of compliment?"

He shrugs his shoulders.

I smile at him. He smirks, unable to bring any positive feelings he has toward his racial enemy to the level of speech. I then hold out the scarf, which I begin to roll lengthwise.

"I'm going to gag myself, and then you can use the other piece of rope to tie my wrists behind my back."

I place the scarf between my teeth and knot it behind my head. I look at Garth for approval, and seeing the smirk still plastered across his face, realize that he is still pleased with me.

I position my wrists behind my back, crossing them so that he may lash them together. I am surprised when he pulls them apart, placing them next to each other in front of me..

A moment later, he encircles my left wrist with the rope, making a slipknot, and then takes the free end of the rope, loops it beneath the tie connecting my ankles, and then ties a slipknot around my right wrist. That my arms are not stretched behind my back I guess is my reward for creating the romantic interlude we have just experienced on our final day in the wilderness.

I am balanced awkwardly on the lip of the trunk. My lover surveys me, unsure how to treat such a willing captive. I watch as his arms leave his sides and I cringe, thinking that I have misjudged his mood and am about to be strangled, helpless to resist. Instead he pulls the gag out from between my teeth, leaving it to rest on my neck.

"I've always gotten a charge when the hero comes upon the captive that he has come to rescue, and she starts talking to him while she is still restrained."

"Garth, thank you for not killing me that first night."

"You did a good job talking me out of it."

"But you still might."

"Just be glad that I don't feel like it right now."

I lift my head and place my lips onto his. Our mouths open and we exchange a passionate kiss.

"Do you feel like killing me now?"

He says nothing and instead scoops me up in his arms and lays me on my side in the trunk of my car. His silence is an acknowledgement that he no longer sees me as his mortal enemy. But to openly state such a thing would make wrong my captivity and torture at his hands.

I expect the trunk to slam shut, not being gagged a reward for my good behavior. But instead he disappears and returns with two pillows and a blanket. I lift my head up so he can place the pillow beneath it, and then rest my head on it as he lifts my hips and stuffs the other pillow beneath them. He wraps me in the blanket, using it to cushion my bony prominences before stuffing the gag back between my teeth.

"Are you OK?" he demands of his mute captive.

I nod in the affirmative.

"All that padding should keep you from getting sore while you're riding in there."

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I watch as he lifts his powerful arm and grabs the trunk lid, reflexively closing my eyes as it closes, and then ponder my fate as I lie in total darkness. The car starts, and the muffled sound of country-western music wafts back to my abode.

I could make myself more comfortable by untying my wrists, but I want to feel like an animal being transported to a zoo, which is what I will be as we cohabit in our home town. I will be the vessel for Garth's pleasure, perhaps having opportunities for escape of which I won't avail myself, thus avoiding retribution from my lover or his ilk, while attempting to make him realize that all humans have not only the right to live but also be accorded the dignity of having their heritage respected.

I am thrown about in the trunk as my little car bounces over the rocks and furrows in the dirt road that leads away from our mountain retreat. The jostling causes some of Garth's semen to leak from my pussy, moistening my g-string. I smile as I remember our romantic interlude.

I fly into the air as the car goes over a small boulder. My shoulder hits the lid of the trunk before an instant later falling back against the body of the car. The car lurches forward just an inch before the right rear wheel begins spinning. We are stuck.

The vehicle rocks back and forth as Garth curses. The motor goes off and I hear door on the driver's side open.

I hear his footsteps on the dirt and gravel as he walks around the car to assess the situation. I hear the key turn to unlock the trunk and the lid flies open. I look up and regard Garth, from whose lips dangle a cigarette.

He reaches into the trunk, seizes me by the torso, and lifts me into the sitting position. "I need you to drive. Your pussy car is stuck. I'll push and you steer," he explains to me as he pulls the gag out of my mouth.

"So much for being your captive."

"If the axle breaks, we're stuck here for the winter. I just might be dining on some Jewish tenderloin by February."

"What would your Aryan buddies think of you consuming Jewish flesh?"

"I don't think they'll ever know, since you won't be around to tell them."

"And how would you kill me?"

"I'd be a sport about it. I'd give you one fucking chance. I'd turn you loose in the woods, naked of course, and give you maybe a fifteen minute head start before I came after you. You'd either find your way back to civilization and get the cops out here after me, or I'd have some good eating."

"I suppose you'd have your gun."

He nods his affirmation.

"Would I have a weapon?"

"Hell no!"

"Then it wouldn't be fair."

"Does a deer get a gun?"

"No."

"Same difference."

"You'd starve to death before you'd kill me. You like fucking me too much," I tell him as he removes the ligature I had placed around my ankles and then unties the knot that holds in place the rope securing my wrists.

"You have found my weakness. Now get into the front seat and drive."

I get into the driver's seat, turn on the ignition, and press on the accelerator as Garth heaves against rear of the car. The vehicle moves forward a few inches, and then shoots forward when the right rear tire meets solid ground. I drive down the road fifty yards before remembering Garth and stopping.

My lover is out of breath when he catches up. He reaches across me through the window, turns off the ignition, and takes possession of the keys.

"Where the fuck did you think you were going?" he demands, alarm in his voice.

"It's my car. I can go wherever I want with it," I answer playfully.

"You weren't planning to leave me out here to freeze and starve now, were you?"

"Would I have stopped here if I was?"

"Well, maybe you didn't remember if I had the gun and you wanted to see if it was aimed at you?"

"If I were really trying to escape, why would I bother to do that?"

"It's something that you would fucking do! That's why!"

"I scared you! After all these months of being terrified of you, I finally scared you!" I cackle. "And do you know what else? I'm the one with the fucking gun now!"

I grab his .357 Magnum pistol from the passenger seat and point it at him.

"Don't point that thing at anything unless you're going to shoot!"

I move the barrel an inch to Garth's left and squeeze the trigger. The pistol discharges and thrown backward by the recoil, I end up sprawled across the passenger seat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Garth shouts.

"Scaring the shit out of you!"

"You don't fucking play with a gun that way!" He exclaims, chastising me as if I am a wayward child.

"You threaten me with your gun all the time. How does it fucking feel?"

"That's different!"

I put the safety in place on the gun and hand it to him. "There is no fucking difference. Now you know what it's like to be scared."

I sit up, get out of the car, and stroll back to the trunk to be imprisoned. But Garth does not follow me, instead assuming his position in the driver's seat. He starts the motor back up, and sensing that our interlude of he being my captor and I the captive is over. I walk around the back of my car to the passenger door and get inside for the ride to Pittsburgh.

I wrap the red sash across my eyes and stare into oblivion as he takes over and knots it behind my head. I pull the belt across my lap and chest, securing it in place as my car grunts in submission to the pressure of Garth's foot on the accelerator, and we begin our journey home.

He makes me recline the seat and pretend to sleep as we drive down the interstate, my eyes covered by the makeshift blindfold. One manacle is clamped around my right wrist, tethering my arm to the door handle, around which the other manacle is clamped. My restraints prevent me from trying to take control of the car but I am clueless as to what his explanation as to the purpose of my restraints if a cop stops us.

I do manage to fall asleep and awaken when we pull off the interstate. I pull off my blindfold as he drives the car into a parking lot behind a vacant building. I wonder what he has planned for me now as the car stops and he turns off the engine.

"I guess you want me in the trunk."

"No. You've been a good girl. You can stay up front with me."

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