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I twist and turn my lower body, trying to prevent the denim from sliding down my legs, but not being able to use my hands is really hindering any progress.
Preston gives me a sinister smile as he successfully removes my pants and tosses them behind him. He grips my bare legs, digging his thumb into a nerve on my upper inner thigh. I cry out when he presses harder, and a sharp pain steals my breath. His hands are mere inches away from my panty line as he shoves my knees into my chest. Preston holds my knees in place as he stares down at the small scrap of cotton separating my bare pussy from his greedy eyes.
Preston leans forward, banding one arm over my legs. Then he drops his hips and moans.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, my sweet flower, I like it when you fight back. It makes my dick hard.” He presses his erection into me, punctuating his statement.
I bare my teeth at him. “What did you just call me?”
“Oh? Did you like that? I remember your mother used to say that to you. At the time, I thought it was a silly term of endearment, but now, I’m curious if it’s an accurate description of your sweet cunt. My son certainly seems to think it’s worth throwing everything away for.”
Preston circles my ankles again and pulls them around his waist as he proceeds to dry hump me. I’m about to start screaming when my toe butts up against the gun. I don’t hesitate for a second. I tighten my thighs around Preston and bring my feet together just enough to pull the weapon out of his pants.
He figures out what I’m doing pretty fast and twists out of my grip, but not before I get the gun and kick it to the floor. Preston rewinds his hand, and bitch slaps me in the same spot he punched me earlier. My eyes fill with tears, quickly losing the battle to keep them at bay. Vomit climbs up my throat as he pins my legs to my chest again, and starts rubbing me through my underwear with a look of sheer ecstasy on his perverted face.
“You’re a sick bastard!”
He laughs sardonically as he dips the tip of his thumb inside of me through the thin cotton barrier. “And you’re a fucking cock tease. We make a good pair, don’t we?”
I frantically scroll through my brain, struggling to find a way out of this. Panic overwhelms me as my mind refuses to produce anything viable. How many times do I have to be assaulted by these elitist pricks before enough is enough? Seriously, it’s a fucking miracle my sanity is still intact. I don’t know if that’ll still be the case if this goes any further.
No, I can’t think like that. I have to get out of this. There is no other option. If what Preston said is true—if my mom died because she was trying to do what she thought was best for me—then I owe this to her. I refuse to let her death be in vain. I will not let these sick fucks win. I steel my resolve when I figure out how I’m going to approach this.
Preston gives me a smarmy smile as he grips the straps of my underwear. “Now, I think we’ve had enough foreplay, don’t you? Let’s get these things off so we can have some real fun.”
“Wait!”
To my surprise, he actually pauses. “What?”
“I’ll do whatever you want.” I muster all the sincerity I can manage into my tone. “I promise. I’ll stop fighting... or... if you want me to pretend to fight, I can do that too.”
Preston’s forehead is unnaturally smooth as he frowns. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all; I swear. I just... I just need something from you first.”
Preston sits back on his knees and assesses me carefully. “All rig
ht, I’m curious enough to indulge you. What exactly do you need from me before I take what I want from you?”
“I want to be the one to kill him. Charles, I mean. I want the last thing he sees to be my face staring down the barrel of a gun.”
His eyes narrow. “And why would you want to do that?”
“For what he did to my mom,” I explain. “Where I grew up, if somebody takes something of value from you, you take back, no matter the cost. He had my mom shot to death, so it’s only fair I do the same to him.”
The crazy bastard likes this idea. I can tell. More importantly, he’s starting to believe me.
“All you need to do is untie me. Then, I can shoot Charles, we can dump his body, then you can do whatever you want with me.” When he still seems doubtful, I add, “You can even call me Mahalia if you’d like. I’ll pretend to be her for as long as you want me to.”
I swallow hard, waiting for him to make a decision. When his face lights up in a genuine—albeit batshit—smile, I know I’ve hooked him.
“Okay... I’ll bite.” His eyes narrow again. “But don’t think I’m just going to hand you the gun and let you have a go at it. I’ll be right behind you, holding the gun, while you pull the trigger.”
Shit. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I’ll have to take it and figure out the rest as I go. If I can get Preston to untie me, I’ll be in a much better position to improvise.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Then... I’m going to fuck every one of your holes while you scream for mercy.” Preston’s watching me carefully, gauging my reaction.
