The night is quiet and cold on the roads, the rain beating down upon the windowsill leaves little doubt upon the mood of the morrow. The beads fly soft, yet land hard and splatter in earnest as the meager wipers attempt to keep up. They couldn't, of course. Not tonight, of all nights.
Derek was a lonely child, and always had been. He had been given away as a child, abandoned really. The local orphanage that raised him - nay, to speak the truth of it, abused him - was a solemn place of rigid discipline and education. It was more of a boarding school for unwanted children than anything else, but he had lived there full time.
It was there that he had learned about his passions. His many delicious tastes. He pondered upon those crisp memories as he continued to drive the windy road. There were large boughs on either side, yet they still did little to shield his vehicle from the drenching downpour. More than once he had to twist the wheel in such a way as to avoid hydroplaning.
It was hard to see Derek in the dim light, but if you could you might have made out a thin smile upon his face. A dangerous face, of course. It was a smile that never reached his eyes. Men like that you had to be careful around.
Men like that had 'delicious' tastes.
The boarding school was a place ripe for abuse as much as it was rigorous studies. The girls had their own separate but attached dormitories. Truth be told, they were rarely seen by the boys as the puritan beliefs that the place followed determined that enjoyment of the flesh - in any form - was sinful and worthy of punishment. The girls were covered head to toe in thick wool uniforms, designed explicitly to 'shield the young boys' from temptation.'
Derek smiled slightly, at the thought, a tight-lipped smile, the kind that revealed from pressure the underpinnings of teeth behind lips. His tongue flicked out, almost of its own volition, licking his lips and scratching against his teeth as he recalled a memory. A core memory, if you will.
One of deceit, of pain.
And of incredible ecstasy.
----
ELSEWHERE
Lucy felt cold. It was the first and primary sensation she felt. The second was cramped. Her legs were bent, and slightly twisted at an angle. She hadn't slept well - and as she opened her eyes, she began to realize just how daunting her situation really was.
She had to blink a few times to really believe it.
She was in a cage. A cast iron, cold-as-shit cage. It had a throw pillow and a fleece blanket at least.
At least I'll have a blanket, she thought.
How had she gotten here? Her head was a mess - pounding inside her skull. Her entire body felt sore and she shivered at the dark terror of shame and pain that entered her thoughts.
She had to check.
She reached down and felt, and didn't feel anything unusual per say as she stuck fingers inside of herself. No dried semen, she still had clothes on, though she didn't remember waxing her pubic area.
Well, if she had been drugged, at least she wasn't raped on top of it.
She laid her head back against the somewhat small cage. It wasn't that large - barely enough for her to stand up and stretch her arms out. Her head was still pounding, and she tried to remember.
That's right, she had been on a blind date, set up by one of her girl friends. They went to a small bar, nice, quiet, intimate like she had been used to. She had fucked a few guys occasionally inside bars like this, usually bent over a toilet or crouching to suck their dick, but wasn't expecting anything spectacular that night.
However, her date had been rather..
Well, gorgeous is the only word she could really come up with.
Tall, slightly tanned skin, he had dressed well and had a really pretty smile. He had stubble, a thin layer of visible hair that cloaked his skin and chin. She didn't know where her girl friend, Stacy, had met him, but clearly she had good taste.
"I bet you'll fuck him!" she had said.
Lucy shook her head, wincing at the discomfort of her ass against the cage. It was then, she realized, that she was mostly naked. She had panties on, but no bra. Except..
Lucy looked down at herself, really taking the time to examine her body in the dim light. These weren't her panties. Someone had put them on her. They were satin, and made of a rich purple cloth. They felt quite nice, so that was something, considering everything.
Refocusing, Lucy attempted to remember as much as she could about last night. About the stranger with a pretty smile. But, looking back, there was something odd about that man.
His smile never touched his eyes.
----
ON A DARK AND RAINY ROAD
Derek continued to drive, his fingers gently stroking the leather covering of the wheel. It was soft, and high quality. Smooth and precious, just how he liked his belongings. The rain was pouring still, as thunderous clouds boomed above in anticipation of his arrival.
He continued to reminisce about his past accomplishments. His childhood home was brutal - especially when a young lady went missing. She had been found later, her wisdom teeth forcibly removed. The faculty had interrogated all of the boys, one by one, in groups, and everything in between. Eventually, due to its remote location, they decided that one of the children must have been responsible. They had beaten each boy tremendously with canes, and only after several rounds of hitting did they decide that they needed help, and fetched the police.
Of course, not before each boy was repeatedly threatened with far worse treatment if they made any mention of the beatings.
Derek could cry on cue or hold back emotions at will, of course. He was naturally gifted in that regard. And despite the threats, he told the police everything. It took several months for the investigation to fully bear fruit, but by then he had already 'aged out' as it were.
Derek looked into the rear view mirror and saw his property lying handcuffed, sleeping soundly in the backseat of his car. She had a good dose, of course, and she looked particularly appetizing in the blue panties he had given her.
She started to stir, but that was good timing. He was almost there.
---
ELSEWHERE
Lucy took stock of her situation, as her headache started to clear up. She was in a fucking cage. If she ever saw Stacy again, she was going to strangle her. Who the fuck did she set her up with?!
She blinked and looked past the cage and saw a rather, well, fine room. There was a large king size bed that looked awfully comfortable right about now, a dresser, and an identical cage on the opposite side of the room. The door looked heavy, and there were no windows.
Well, she's fucked, Lucy decided.
She was chained to a cage and some crazy at-best kidnapper, probably a rapist, and maybe serial killer had her captive.
Seriously, she was going to fucking strangle Stacy.
