Torn Down Ch 02

Becky awoke to the sound of a dog barking outside. It was day, as far as she could tell. At least from the light shining through the cracks in the boarded window. Her wrists and ankles ached from straining against her bonds during the surreal torture session earlier. How long had it been since then?

She was having a hard time even telling anymore; she either woke up to daylight or darkness. It didn't matter. The torment continued regardless.

She heard two voices through the wall. Their words were muffled, but one of them belonged to her all-too-familiar tormentor. Part of her was starting to hope that he would come in to see her--wait, why would she want him?

She whimpered a hoarse cry to anyone. "P-please, help..."

The voices quieted down. She tensed up, but her cunt clenched of its own accord, much to her dismay. She whimpered and curled up on the floor, feigning sleep as the door opened.

The unfamiliar voice called out, "HEY! Get yo' ass up! Lazy bitch!" She felt a harsh and unforgiving kick to her abdomen. The blow took the breath out of her and she started whimpering painfully as she started to push herself to a crawling position. She tentatively began to look up from the floor to the pair of worker boots and faded jean legs of the man standing in front of her.

Then she heard a click and felt a cold metal nozzle pressing down against the top of her head. "Nuh-uh! I ain't told you to look up, did I?"

She nervously stammered, "I-I..."

A gunshot abruptly sounded which cut her off, followed by the sound of breaking glass. "DID I?!" the man shouted angrily at her.

Becky immediately began sobbing, fearful of what would happen. Would they torture her? Kill her? Would she ever see her husband again? She swallowed and struggled to answer, but only more choked sobs came.

Another gunshot. Now the nozzle was jammed against her right temple, which only heightened her fear. "N-no...please, I--"

The other voice, the one who confessed to loving her, replied to her. "You know what you gotta say, right? Say it."

She lowered her gaze back to the filthy hardwood floor and whimpered pitifully at the man with the gun pressed against her head. "B-Becky Bitch is sorry, sir. I'll...I'll never look up at you again...I promise--I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt me, please...?"

The man just laughed at her and pulled the gun away, providing her with a modicum of relief. "Well, look here! Your girlfriend just told me she'd do anything I want!"

She felt a fist in her dirty brown hair, and her head was yanked to the side. It made Becky cry out in surprise and pain. "That right?" the familiar voice hissed at her. "D'You just say you'd do anything for some other guy? Huh?!"

Becky's lips started moving, trying to find a way to explain her way out. No words came out. Her tears flowed freely now as the pull on her hair only got even harder.

"Yep, she sure did. She ain't nothing but a fuckin' skank!"

The voice grew cold as he asked, "You know what we do with skanks, Becky? You wanna find out?"

Becky stammered helplessly, then screamed as the familiar rag was pressed against her nose and mouth. She struggled against it for a few seconds, trying to pull away.

The last thought before she passed out was, I'm going to die...

***

Becky awoke, and for the first time, it was pitch black and she was standing, albeit awkwardly. She felt something metal in her mouth, forcing her mouth open. She whimpered and struggled in vain to stop herself from drooling, but she felt it trickle down onto her full breasts.

Her wrists were cuffed and held to her mid-back. Becky tried to move them. There was no slack for her to work with.

Her ankles were cuffed as well. There was something forcing her legs open in a V position, while she was kept on her tip toes by something, despite her attempts to lower herself to a more comfortable position. Her cunt was totally exposed.

She wanted to shake her head no, but there was something constantly pulling at her hair and yanking her head back slightly.

The familiar voice of the one who "loved" her could be heard approaching. "Well, well, well! Becky Bitch is awake, huh?"

She wanted to plead to be let go, but the only sounds she could make were moans and plaintive mewling.

His rough hand went straight to her labia, pressing down against both her outer lips and the shaven mound of flesh above it. Becky moaned again in instinctive pleasure and tried to move her hips as best as she could toward his touch.

"Ooh, hungry?" The tone was amused, but a lot gentler than earlier. "So you sorry 'bout throwin' yourself at another man?"

"Uh-huh..." she replied amidst her conflicted sounds. Becky was hoping he would continue to be nice to her. It was obviously much easier when he was pleased.

"You promise you're not gonna trick yourself out to nobody else?"

Becky nodded as best as she could.

"You wanna make me happy, huh?" His tone was almost like cooing to a small child now.

"Uh-huh..." she replied a bit more eagerly. She definitely wanted to keep him happy...the alternative was frightening to her now.

His hand pulled away from between her legs, causing her to whimper again. Then he groped her left breast, which made her moan slightly. "That's my good lil' Becky Bitch. You love Daddy, don't you?"

"Uh-huh...I...luh....oo..." she said, unable to stop herself. She wanted to keep him happy.

He caressed the left side of her face, causing her to relax slowly. "Good girl," he cooed reassuringly, "but you gotta learn your lesson, baby." Becky whimpered again in protest as the touch departed, leaving her somewhat bereft. She tried leaning forward toward him.

"Gotta go, baby. Check on you later." He patted her cunt again, and then she heard him walk away, leaving her in this painfully uncomfortable position.

She broke down and started sobbing, utterly confused by her reactions. She felt her heart sinking as she thought about how she just betrayed her husband--and that she'd likely never see him again.