To stay human is to break a limitation

I hope there are some people on AFF.net that are into this kind of stuff. Its kind of long, I apologize for that but dont let it put you off, keep reading please! Reviews would be greatly appreciated. This story does included torture, rape, and even some m/m action so if thats not your thing do not proceed. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Amy’s Story:

When I opened the door it was dark, so dark that I couldn’t see an inch in front of my face. I stumbled around the abandoned warehouse tears still streaming down my cheeks. It smelled musty in here and the ground was covered in a layer of sawdust. It had been years since my childhood when I had often sought this place as a refuge, when my mother was leaving us.
Somewhere I could hear the steady drip of water but I couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from. Suddenly above the sound of my fading whimpers I heard voices, male voices, raised in anger. I could tell they were male because the timbre was deep and the words gruff. This brought into my mind the memory of my father’s anger a few hours before. The anger and misery I had fled was what had brought me here.

I tried to muffle my sobs and stop the flow of my tears. If I hadn’t been so stubborn I would have turned and left. I crept closer, and closer until the darkness began to brighten and I saw lights embedded in the ceiling. When the voices sounded again they were much nearer, and I knew these men were just around the corner from me. What were they doing here, I wondered, and more importantly what would they do to me if they discovered that I had stumbled upon their secret meeting?
There were no other doors or windows for me to escape from besides the one I had initially entered and it was lost somewhere in the darkness behind me. I had already forgotten the way I had come. This was dangerous. What had I been thinking sneaking up on complete strangers? Then to my terror I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and panicking searched desperately for a place to hide, behind, under, even on top of, but there was nothing. My heart racing I dropped to my stomach just as the dark silhouette of a suited man rounded the corner.

I buried myself beneath the sawdust as best I could and barely breathed. When he moved beneath a light fixture I could see that he was stocky, but not very tall, with a sharp weasel like face, and oddly enough pierced ears. I watched him as he squinted into the blackness that was my only cover searching for evidence of an intruder. Then when he seemed convinced there was no disturbance he disappeared once more into the room of the meeting.
I did not get up but stayed hidden. I decided that I would lie still and wait for them to go and pray that they did not see me. I did not have to wait long before I could recognize the sounds of farewells and parting embraces. Then they began to leave. I counted their footsteps, six in all. They all wore the black suits, ties, slacks, and white undershirts. Perhaps they were only business partners meeting after work for a drink, but that didn’t explain the secrecy of the warehouse. What was this strange fraternity trying to hide? Call me naive but I never considered that they could be criminals, not at that time.

. Despite their similarity in clothing they were all quite different, ranging from short and stocky, (the man they had sent to look for me), to tall and lean (there were two of these) One I noticed in particular, not because he was especially tall or short, nor well muscled as one of them was, or even attractive like another. He was rather bulky and he had mussed deep brown hair that fell like a curtain over his brooding eyes, shadowing the stubble that covered his face and a strong jaw line with a thick mouth. No, what set him apart from the others was the fact that he exuded power even as he walked; he did not need to strut, because although his posture was poor he instilled fear with a glance and I found myself trembling.
I prayed he did not find me, any of the others but him. If those dark eyes settled upon me in anger I would surely die. My heart pounded along with the echoing sound of their retreating footsteps and then calmed when I could no longer hear them. It was stupid of me to think that Id actually escape. No, they were too smart for that. I waited until I imagined they’d had enough time to leave the building and then I sighed to myself and slowly got to my feet. Then I felt it, a crippling blow to the back of my head from behind me. I barely had time to register the pain before I crumpled onto the sawdust beneath me.

When I awoke it was to the most nerve-wracking fear I had ever known. They were all around me. All six of the men loomed over me in their dark suits. I realized we were in a different room, probably their meeting place. Highlighting the darkness all around were white masks covering all six faces. These masks were not identical but seemed specially outfitted for the individual. It covered all of the face but left the mouth and chin exposed so that I could see their leering smirks. I squirmed; I tried to get up and run but realized that I was secured to some type of table. There would be no escape.
I wanted to scream but I was cut off by a barking voice. "The little bitch is awake!" sneered the short one.” I thought shed be out for longer." "You probably just didn’t hit her in the right place Paul." said the tallest patronizingly. "He probably couldn’t reach it!" snickered the others. "Will you idiots shut up!" boomed the one who had stayed silent until now. They all obeyed. Then the leader drew closer and studied me intently. The others drew back and I thought the nods he gave me were reassuring. "You had quite a scare there didn’t you my dear?" he asked in a gravelly voice. I couldn’t answer I was too frightened. Something told me he didn’t expect one. He looked to the others. "Is she strapped down properly?" "Yeah," responded the muscular one with the pretty face, "she’s not going anywhere." The leader nodded once again and advanced towards me, hand raised as though he would smack me, and then he did. He struck me, hard, across the face, his knuckles grazing my cheekbones. I saw stars and went black once again.

Soon I came to, sooner then they wanted I guess because once the tallest had asserted the fact that brute force wasn’t enough to keep me unconscious I saw them prepare a syringe. I struggled violently. I kicked, screamed, cursed, spat in their faces but it was futile. I was held fast and soon I could feel the sting of the needle entering my arm. The only thing my struggle had changed was that I now had an awful headache. I was sure I must already have quite a few lumps and bruises up there from the hits Id taken. It took awhile for whatever it was they had injected me with to take affect. Maybe it was the adrenaline but when it finally subdued me it was just barely. I still felt awake and was conscious of all that happened around me only I wasn’t able to speak or move a muscle.
Their faces swam in and out of my vision like nightmares. What did they want with me? Then the leader appeared over me and I saw him undoing the straps that held me to the table. Then he lifted me up into his arms, and I unable to struggle, flopped useless as a rag doll in his hands. He brought me into another room, darker then the others, much smaller, and rancid smelling. I was thrown down upon a filthy mattress and left to wait. Slowly my toes and fingers began to tingle with sensation again. The room was damp and the mattress too. I began to shiver and scolded myself for leaving the house in nothing but my summer dress. I dragged myself over to the locked door, (Id tried to open it), and listened for any noise on the other side. I waited there dutifully, desperately, like some abandoned pet. Against my will I began to miss my father, and to wish that he would come and take me from this place. I decided that if two days passed without anyone coming for me I would kill myself by bashing my head into the concrete walls, but they weren’t going to let me off that easily.

During, what I assume was later that night he came to me. The leader, he came. He asked me how I was doing and stupidly the only thing I could think to say was, “I’m hungry, and cold.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and threw it at me. “Here. There isn’t any food, but I can give you something to put in your mouth.” He paused here and gave me a wicked smile,” Might warm you up too.” I knew what he was implying but decided to play dumb, and trick him into thinking I was younger then I was. Maybe he’d take pity on me. I sat motionless, clutching the jacket, and waited for whatever it was he wanted to give me. I didn’t really trust him but it seemed to me I had no other choice. He reached out one of his large hands and I saw the dark hairs dusting its back and the flash of an expensive wristwatch. That was how I came to know that this man had power beyond this little circle of his. I think I lost all hope then. His hand came to rest on the top of my head and he began to stroke it in a comforting fashion. I felt a sense of calm wash over me and my shoulders sagged instantly with exhaustion.
Before I could stop myself I began to cry. "Shhh, quiet now." he crooned as he continued his ministrations with my hair. I didn’t listen. I began to cry louder. My soft whimpers soon became shrieks of mental anguish. Id crossed a boundary and he was there ready to jerk me back into line. The hand that had been stroking me clenched tightly on the strands of hair it held and using these he dragged me across the floor to him. Tugging mercilessly until I was prostrated on my knees before him, "When I tell you to be quiet you shut your fucking mouth, cunt, got it?" He bellowed down at me. I nodded enthusiastically and pleaded that he not hurt me any more. He let go of my hair and using the toe of his boot kicked me hard in the stomach. With a groan like a wounded beast I fell to my side, the wind knocked out of me, and trembled violently. He stormed out and slammed the door jarringly behind him.

I vomited numerous times onto the cold stone floor. Eventually I crawled back toward the mattress to escape the smell of my own bile. Now that my stomach was completely empty the hunger returned with a vengeance. I berated myself for pissing off a man who had been about to feed me. I had learned my lesson. The next time he came to me, if there were a next time, I would be perfectly behaved. I curled up into a ball on the mattress and draped his jacket over me. It helped warm me a little though it was saturated with the smell of his sweat and cologne. I dreamed of my father. I dreamed that he had found the warehouse and had come inside looking for me, but no matter how loudly I called for him he couldn’t hear me and he left. It seemed so real, my father’s voice, the chance of escape, that when I awoke the mattress was soaked with tears.
I had only moments to get my bearings when the door was opened and a shaft of light blinded me. My heart leapt into my throat as I tried to decipher the shape in the doorway. It was one of the taller men, the more attractive, with a slightly upturned nose, flaxen hair, and high cheekbones. In a way he seemed much more refined than the others. I decided to play on this assumption and said politely, "Excuse me sir, but could you tell me what time it is?" "Get up girl!" he snapped. "You come with me and don’t say another word or so help me God I will gag you." He seemed greatly agitated as I followed from the room back out into the main building.

When we came upon the others they were scattered about. Some sat at the table Id been strapped to, drinking and playing a card game, two were engaged in excited conversation, and one, the tallest of the six stood guard over yet another man, one I had not seen before, who was restrained much as I had been to a chair. The tall man stood over him and seemed to be delighting in a game of Russian roulette, ecstatic to see the man flinch and squirm at the triggers clicking. No one turned from their activities to acknowledge us.
My current captor cleared his throat and slowly, one by one, they all turned and when they saw that he had me with him they became enraged. The short one, Paul, raised his voice above the others, "Christopher, what the fuck are you doing put the bitch back in her cell!" My captor, Christopher, it seemed, shook his head defiantly. "No, I say we just let them both go. Let him take her and leave we don’t need this shit!" He turned his eyes on the leader and pleaded, " Sir, please, you have to realize this is ridiculous. She’s only a kid. What are we going to do, keep her in there until she starves to death? I’m sure she didn’t hear anything.” Now he turned to me. “You didn’t hear anything right?" He prodded desperately. I just looked up at him. I didn’t want him to gag me and so I stayed silent.

"Christopher, that’s enough, I’ve heard enough of this!" The leader barked and in a blind rage rose from his seat and chucked the glass bottle from which he’d been drinking at Christopher’s feet, where it shattered. Christopher looked like he was going to cry. "I’m sorry Sir.” he mumbled. The leader paced around the table and addressing every one of them said, "Sometimes I think you all tend to forget who is in control of this operation. So, patient guy that I am, I’m going to be gracious and remind you one last time. The next asshole who crosses me gets thrown into the broom closet with her, you got me?" They all nodded dumbly. All except for Christopher who went off into the corner to sulk.
"Now," continued the leader, "I suspect our little doll here heard more of our conversation than she wants to admit, understandably. What I understand is that were not going to get her to confess without a little...persuasion. What do you say boys? Shall we?" They all gave him knowing glances and began to smile, all except Christopher. "This is going to be the fun part.” said the one called Paul, grinning a little too eagerly. "Yeah, lets get to it Boss!" shouted the other four. The leader strode up and grabbed me by the collar of my dress; he practically lifted me off the floor. He looked in Christopher’s direction with a smirk. "Oh, and Christopher?" he mocked in high-pitched voice. "Sir?" answered Christopher with hate smoldering in his eyes. "Watch our hostage will you? Well be back." he returned with a smile, and dragging me, joined the others in my closeted room.

I was so distracted by the actions of this Christopher and his compassion for me and this other hostage that I had totally forgotten my fear, but now as we left him behind and I was alone with these five other men I again felt the fear rising in my chest. I tried to remember back to the night before, or had it been the night before last? My memory was so scrambled up it was impossible to tell, but I was certain I hadn’t heard anything. If I could somehow prove this, would they let me go? I was pushed roughly into the storage closet and the door was closed behind me. I couldn’t see them or hear them but I knew they were there.
A pair of strong hands clasped my arms and wrenched them viciously behind my back, and then another pair closed over my mouth, and finally a last pair gripped my ankles and I was hoisted up like a dead thing. I thrashed about like the animal they seemed to think I was and screamed muffled protests into the hands over my mouth. A length of rope was wrapped tightly around my wrists, and then my ankles. Then I was carried towards a cable with a large hook attached, which hung from the ceiling. I had not noticed it before but now the sight of it filled me with terror. They slipped the rope looped about my wrists over this hook, and then let me fall. I screamed, though it looked sturdy enough I was afraid it wouldn’t hold my weight and that I would crash to the concrete floor with no hands with which to catch myself. My stomach dropped as I freefell for an instant; it held.

Now I was hanging preposterously in the air, my arms ached from supporting the weight of my entire body. The rope tightened about my wrists and I felt it begin to cut into the fragile skin. A hand clasped my chin and forced me to look up into gleaming eyes. Whoever it was had removed his mask. A quick glance around the room showed that they had all removed their masks. I heard a sharp snap as a small flame appeared before my face. Its flickering glow washed golden across the features of the leader.
His face was slack, and weathered looking, his skin rough and pitted with scars. He was horribly ugly and his alcohol laced breath invaded my nostrils as did the smoke from the lighter and I began to cough until my eyes watered uncontrollably. They all laughed at me. Offhand it occurred to me that I must have been a pitiful sight. Then I felt his hands on me, all over my body. They crawled over my breasts and hips like huge white spiders and then using the rope he turned me about until my face was pressed into the damp wall. I felt him lifting the hem of my skirt and kicked with all my strength, but it didn’t help. They only laughed harder, and so to block out the sound of their laughter and my own rising shame I screamed, long and loud. I heard the leader get down on his knees underneath me and when I felt his hands slide slowly up my thighs I buried my face deeper into the wall. I didn’t want to have to look into their faces, but I never stopped screaming.

When his hands reached my crotch I flinched and waited for him to rape me, tears blinding me from the horrible scene. I was able to achieve a state of disassociation. My mind and body were separated. He must have known this, the bastard. When I heard the sound of cloth ripping my eyes snapped open. I felt a rush of air on my naked skin. "Here, this will shut the slut up." said the pretty faced one as he forced my balled up panties into my mouth and secured it with a piece of tape. Then they turned me around again and the leader, still on his knees, lifted the lighter up my skirt. I felt the heat of the flames on that most delicate of places and smelled singed hair, but I dared not move. I no longer tried to scream but shook my head vigorously back and forth. I locked my eyes with his. The leader took the lighter away and got to his feet. "There’s a good girl. Are you going to be quiet now?" I nodded again. He reached over and tore the tape roughly from my face and took my panties from my mouth. He lifted them to his nose, and made a show of sniffing them. "Mmmm...don’t play at being brave girl. I know you’re afraid. I can smell it. Tell me what you heard." "I heard nothing!" I protested. No sooner were the words out then he forced my panties back into my mouth.
"Ok, bitch. This is the way it’s going to be. I have been very patient with you up until this point. This is me being nice. I’m going to be straight up with you. I know that this puts you in an awkward situation but you’ve heard something that is for nobody’s ears but the boys and me. It really pisses me off when people, especially silly little girls, blunder in on other peoples business. Yet I know accidents happen, I can understand that but what I really don’t like are liars. I can smell a lie from a mile away so don’t bullshit me. If there’s something I need to know you better tell it to me right now because I can become nasty very quickly, and as my friends here will assure you I don’t fuck around. If you pose any threat to me and my gang whatsoever I will kill you, slowly, and painfully. So what’s it going to be doll face, huh?"

I tried to bluff him, to act as if his blustering bravado didn’t scare me. "Listen, I don’t know what your talking about! I came in here to hide from my parents. I didn’t think anybody hung around here anymore. I swear I didn’t hear anything. I don’t know who you are, or where you live, or anything! Please just let me go!" He began laughing manically as if Id told the funniest joke in the world. He turned toward the others who joined in nervously. Without warning he turned and slugged me in the jaw. The entire side of my face went numb and I tasted blood in my mouth. "I fucking warned you bitch, don’t you fucking lie to me!" My jaw ached but I managed to croak out a final plea, "I’m not lying I didn’t hear anything. Please believe me!" Then his hand closed around my throat and began to squeeze.
"I don’t care what I have to do to get an answer out of you, but I will get one. Don’t play innocent with me girl. Fess up or you are going to be one fucked up corpse" Even if I had an answer to give I wouldn’t have been able to draw enough breath to speak. I could hear the rattling of my strained breathing and the blood pounding in my ears. Cruelly he released his hold on my throat but quickly enclosed my lips in his and forced his tongue down my throat. My strained lungs tried to draw breath but there was only the stale taste of his saliva and his hot tongue threatening to trigger my gag reflex. My head swam and my vision became speckled. Finally he broke the kiss and my lungs flooded with much needed air.

I could feel through my dress that he had a hard on "You sick fuck! Let me go you assholes I don’t know anything!" Then suddenly I remembered the man tied to a chair in the next room, the one Christopher was watching.
What if they were just a bunch of murdering crazies? "I’m done here.” he announced. "Boys Ill leave it up to you to handle this little snake. Take care though, I’ve still got plans for her." He buried his face in my neck and inhaled deeply. "Until later," he whispered into my ear, "A little something to remember me by." He gripped the shoulder strap of my dress and snapped it in one sharp jerk. Slowly he rolled it down until one of my breasts was exposed and he studied it lustfully. Using a meaty finger he traced its shape and circled around the nipple. I turned my face away. True I couldn’t stop him but I wasn’t going to just hang here numbly as he molested me.
Abruptly a searing pain consumed me in my breast. He was using the lighter to slowly scorch the flesh. I cried out in agony. I screamed until my vocal cords were raw and useless. My screams didn’t seem to upset him at all. He only watched, no trace of emotion on his face. Then he left me with the others who jeered at me, slapped me around and pulled at my hair and what was left of my clothes. Finally they too left me alone with my pain. I was at this point totally numb and had absolutely no problem with falling asleep just like that, bruised, bleeding, and suspended by my raw and chaffing wrists.

That night I was awoken by the sound of the little door in my room slamming. From the muttering voice I could tell that my visitor was Christopher. I saw that he was not alone; he had the hostage with him. The hostage was bare-chested with duct tape wrapped around his eyes and I noticed that the fly of his pants was wide open. Christopher had him pressed up against the wall and their faces were close, very close. I heard the telltale signs of a passionate kiss. One of the men, I couldn’t tell whom, began to moan as they thrusted against each other. I felt sick and wished they would just go away and leave me to die. I shifted my weight trying to get the rope to spin me toward the wall and Christopher noticed my movement.
He pulled away from the hostage, removing his hand from the waist of the mans pants. "It looks like our little princess is awake. How are you feeling slut? Up for some fun?" He didn’t wait for me to answer but pushed the hostage down onto the mattress, lifted me off of the hook, and placed me on top of the man. I just lay there as if dead. I could feel the hostage’s chest rising and falling at a rapid rate from either fear or excitement, both frightened me. Then Christopher pulled something metallic from his pocket that glinted even in this poor light. He held the Glock to my head, steadied a finger on the trigger, and forced my hands over my head.


He removed my ragged dress so that I sat there naked before him. The cold night air stung the million fresh wounds his comrades had recently inflicted. He wasted no time in lifting my hand and placing it down where his hands had been a few moments ago. The hostage was rock hard, and so, I noted, was Christopher. I didn’t need him to tell me what to do with it once I held it in my hand. I jerked the hostage’s cock as quickly as I could to get it over with but Christopher reached out and stopped me. "Slowly," he whispered, "take it slow, we’ve got all night."
The hostage tried his hardest to hold absolutely still but as his passion rose he began twisting, groaning, and bucking involuntarily into my hand. At the moment he was about to come he craned his neck and stole a wet kiss, then he flipped me over and kicked off his pants. Christopher nodded in approval. I did not resist, I only lay there. When he entered me the pain was nothing to that I had endured thus far and I held on tight as he rode me hard, biting my lips till they bled to stop the moans from escaping my throat. Christopher leaned against the wall, cock in hand, stroking in time with the hostages frantic thrusting. I fought against the pleasure, although it would have brought me a brief release from my agony. Christopher was the first to cum, groaning deeply and spilling his seed all down his expensive looking suit, the hostage followed, mouth shaped into a silent "o" of ecstasy, and I ended reluctantly with the most degrading orgasm imaginable.
Shortly the hostage began to sob and whispered to me that he was sorry, like it mattered. I was truly exhausted now and don’t recall being lifted back up onto the hook or what happened between Christopher and the hostage. Yet when I woke in the morning, still sore, still afraid, I was hanging neatly as a favorite coat, redressed, with no one the wiser. I was almost certain the next visitor I received would be concerned more with my pain than his pleasure.

Turns out I was right. On the night of the third day the leader visited me alone again. He seemed to be in a much better mood, more relaxed. He was, I noticed, no longer wearing either his mask or suit, and he was smoking. This worried me. The fact that he was now so casual just proved that he did not plan on letting me go. I went on guard instantly. The bastard was planning on killing me. He was wearing a pair or grimy jeans, a tight fitting black t-shirt, and no shoes. This, the fact that he was comfortable enough to go barefoot scared me most of all
. At this moment when I wanted the most to be strong I was reminded of a bodily need Id been ducking for two days now. "Please sir, I have too, I need to..." He looked at me knowingly. It was the look a father might give his naive daughter. "I need to pee." I squeaked. For once I was thankful for the darkness, for the fact that he couldn’t see me blush. He probably would have enjoyed my helplessness, the weirdo. It made me so angry that Id been reduced to this, less than an animal. "Ok." he said calmly, watching me expectantly. "Pee then." I resisted the urge to scream at him. "Isn’t there a bathroom I could use?" Hi eyes were as hard as diamonds. "No."

I hung my head in defeat and shame. It was too hard with him watching me. I couldn’t do it though I needed to desperately. "I can’t do it like this." I whined pathetically. He walked up to me and smiled sweetly into my stricken face. I flinched. "Here, I'll help you." He got down onto his knees and reached his hand up my skirt. He fondled my pussy with two of his big fingers, his expression now quite serious. Then his fingertips brushed across my pee hole, stimulating it and suddenly I felt like I could and the urge was too strong to fight. "Go ahead," he urged in a patient whisper, "Let it out." And so I do. It begins as a shy trickle, and then a steady flood as my bowels unclench in release. He catches it on his fingers inhaling the musky scent, and offers it for me to taste off his index finger. I feel sickened, ashamed, angry, but also relieved.
I couldn’t look at his awful face so I closed my eyes. He rebuked me for it by twisting the nipple on my burnt breast. "Keep them open." he ordered. Then he stood, stealthy as a thief and gave me a gracious smile. “ I hope you realize every breath you’ve drawn since you entered this place was a gift from me. Now then, lets get down to business shall we?” He pulled his shirt over his head, watching me all the while, and tossed it carelessly into the corner. Sweat glistened on the hairs of his chest and yet he seemed quite relaxed. “What are you going to do?” I asked nervously. He shook his head at me, clucking his tongue, in derision, as if I should know better than to ask. “I’m going to do,” here he paused to draw a gleaming blade from the waistband of his jeans,” whatever I have to, as promised.”

I let out a cry of dismay that echoed off the naked walls. “Please don’t rape me! Oh god, please, I can’t take it anymore!” He pretended to be shocked. “Oh honey, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I didn’t come in here to rape you. My method of taking pleasure involves something much more intimate than a hurried writhing on a filthy mattress. In fact I think once you see what I’ve got in store for you you’ll almost wish I had raped you and sent you on your way. You disgusting little tramp. Do you honestly think Id pollute the temple of my body with the likes of you? You think your charms have seduced me? You sicken me. I hate you, and I don’t even know you.” He brandished the knife threateningly. “In case our dear Christopher hasn’t made things a little clearer for you, I take my sexual fulfillment from the more trustworthy sex. You haven’t got your claws in anyone bitch, and now your going to die.”
I screamed and thrashed trying to loosen the ropes even just a little, but it did me no good. “Yes, try to get away! Scream your voice box raw, its not going to change anything, except make this whole process a little more pleasant for me.” This said he lunged at me with the gleaming blade and plunged its cold tip into the top of my thigh. Not enough to kill me, only to cause me pain, and what pain! It was white-hot and burned down the length of my leg, up my spine, and into my brain. It hurt, it fucking hurt! I screamed over and over again trying to block out the pain. I could hear him laughing and then once again I felt the now blood slicked blade descending onto my waiting flesh.

This time the blade was at my throat and the stinging cut was shallow although it flowed freely down my chest, underneath my blouse. The blood was warm and sticky, its unique coppery smell engulfing my senses. Then he pulled away and seemed to be in deep thought. My breath caught in my throat as I prayed for rescue. Was he reconsidering? Did he realize that he was killing an innocent girl? I was terrified of startling him from his revelry but I had to know what he was thinking. I asked a dangerous question. “What have you done with that other man, the hostage?”
In that instant as if some unknown being, above, or below, had heard my silent prayer and answered it the door to the room burst open with a deafening crash. Christopher fell into view, crawling on his belly he wriggled in as fast as he could. The leader whirled around, his eyes manic in their intensity. “Get out! What the fuck do you want? You’re supposed to be watching the other one!” I could see the dampness of tears on Christopher’s cheeks and my breath ceased in this chaotic loss of order. The mussel of a gun appeared in the door way and me and the leader held our breaths as we waited to see who held it.

A shadowy figure stepped into the doorway, his chest was bare and he was wearing only a stained pair of boxers. It was the hostage! “Get up against the wall asshole!” he screamed at the leader in a voice as raw as mine must have been. The leader became suddenly calm and instead of doing what he’d been told he drew closer. “Put that gun down you son of a bitch before you hurt yourself, your not even holding it right. Nobody orders me around and you better hope to god you’re a better shot with that thing than you look because if I get to you first you are dead my friend!” The leader cast a dark glare at Christopher and then suddenly he exploded into motion. He ran at the hostage, the knife extended, its blade quick and deadly aimed straight for the hostage’s throat.
Swiftly the hostage aimed the gun and fired. The bullet met its marl and leader lurched back and fell. His eyes flooded with disbelief and then they blurred. The knife clattered from his hand to the stone floor. Christopher was hunkered down on my mattress trembling and shielding his eyes. The hostage staggered over to where the leader lay. Was he dead? I wondered. The hostage prodded the body with his naked foot, there was no movement. He stooped to retrieve the knife and then used it to cut the ropes that restrained me.

My feet touched the ground sooner than I thought they would and I collapsed. He helped me to my feet and pushed me toward the door. He looked into my face and I saw him blanch. His hand on me released suddenly and he backed away. “Go, run! Get out of here while you can!” “But what about the others?” I cried. “Don’t worry about them just go. Run and don’t stop until you’ve left this place far behind you!” Then he turned and walked over to Christopher and got down on his knees on the mattress. He placed his hand comfortingly on Christopher thigh. Christopher let out a bitter sob and backed up even closer to the wall. The hostage grabbed his face and turned it in his direction, forcing the other man to look at him. “Goodbye Chris.” he whispered and placed a delicate kiss on trembling lips.
Then he got up and when he saw me still there, watching, transfixed he lifted me into his arms, though I felt he was weak and carried me through the darkness. I clutched him in fear and closed my eyes tightly. Soon I felt the caress of daylight upon my eyelids and the soft tickling of grass on my legs as he lowered me. My eyes flew open. We had done it! Wed escaped! I broke into a joyous smile and lifted my eyes to meet those of the man who had saved me. What I saw astounded me. Standing before me, nearly naked, filthy, and bleeding from a wound to the chest was my father. This mysterious man had been my father all along!

I suddenly remembered my dream and the sound of his voice so near and realistic. My father had come for me after all. “Daddy!” I cried, on the verge of tears. He pulled away from my embrace and would not look me in the eyes. “What’s wrong daddy? Daddy, please look at me! Daddy!” Then it hit me, the reason for his shame. Christopher! That night, when they’d, when Id… Oh god! “It wasn’t our fault, we didn’t know! They made us didn’t they Daddy, didn’t they?” I shrilled. He took my hand and led me toward home. “Lets get you to a doctor.” Was all he said.
The rest of that day was a blur of reliving the awful experience over and over again as cold, sterile doctors and nurses asked me question after question. They stitched up my thigh, and bandaged the gash at my throat. That night as I lay in the soft, clean hospital bed I thought of my father and all I had endured. What would my mother think? I fell into a leaden sleep and when I awoke a doctor was standing over me. I could hear my father’s voice, he was crying. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton but I talked around the feeling. “What is it Doctor? Is my father going to be ok?” The doctor smiled kindly, “Yes, we’ve stitched him up and he’s going to be just fine. However I’m afraid we’ve got some…uncomfortable news.”

I sat up, though my head ached. “What is it?” I asked anxiously. “Sweetheart are you sure that during your captivity you engaged in sexual intercourse only once?” “I didn’t “engage” I was forced into it.” I snapped defensively. He nodded apologetically. “Yes, of course, but your sure it was only once?” “Yes,” I mumbled. “And it was with…” he paused as if he couldn’t bare to say it. “My father, yes, as far as I could tell in the bad lighting.” He nodded, “Well you see the reason I’m asking is because the tests have brought up an interesting development.”
Oh just come out with it, I silently urged him. I looked to my father and he finally he looked back. “Your pregnant Amy.” His composure collapsed when the words were out and he stumbled from the room. “Doctor may I have some time alone please?” “Yes of course,” he replied, stepping from the room, “If there’s anything you need notify one of the nurses and they’ll get if for you.” He left and I was alone again. I let out a deep breath and crumpled onto my pillow, crying harder than I ever thought possible.