Tom called Agnes to pick him up. Soon, the family had a tender moment over the shapely, insensate form of their exquisite victim.
“Take care of her,” Agnes said quietly to her son who settled behind the wheel. The woman stared at the shining skin and all but translucent dress of desecrated girl in the passenger seat. “She’ll make a fine cum bucket for years to come if you don’t fuck her to death.”
“You got any idea where you’ll take her?” his father asked, also filling his eyes with the sweet young thing.
His mind filled with visions of the pretty brunette who had been taken from him.
Andy looked from the girl who wouldn’t let him kiss her five years before to his parents. “To ecstacy,” he promised. “And agony.” He then drove carefully away, his bound and gagged “wife” sleeping unpeacefully beside him.
He tried very hard to keep his eyes on the road as he contemplated his next move. What, exactly, would he do, he wondered. But as he thought, one thought kept overtaking all the others. This girl definitely needed some new outfits. Now the question was: where to get them?
He considered his options, then fell back on his usual mental gambit: what would his dad do? When he realized the answer, a leer started on his face until it grew practically around his entire head.
Leesa Mendaski woke up. Like so many exhausted slumbers, her body and mind rallied to protect itself during the cataleptic period.So the memory of what had happened to her since she stopped at the convenience shack on the back road didn’t spring immediately to mind.
Instead, her senses took in their immediate stimuli: comfy linens, soft pillows, warm sunlight … the sound of birds chirping … the smell of freshly laundered cotton … the feeling of familiarity. Her eyelids fluttered and opened. She recognized the wall she saw. It was the wall of her own room in her own house … her family’s home.
She started as if shocked by an electric wire. She instantly remembered waking from a nightmare when she was a little girl, and the rush of relief when she realized it had all been a bad dream. That rush threatened to make her faint now. College, leaving college, meeting the Brannigans, all of it … it was a bad dream!
Leesa Mendaski sat straight up. The sheets and blanket slipped down. She looked at herself. She was wearing her favorite black lace nightie – the one her grandma gave her.
It had a somewhat daring v-neckline, but as the adorable old woman said “You have the chest to pull it off, dear!” The rest was satiny smooth, silky, slinky and remarkably comfortable. It felt great … she felt great. She felt clean, refreshed, strong, happy.
Relief fell over her like a wave of molasses. It was impossible, but it was true. She was back in her own room, in her own house, in her own clothes. None of the nightmare had happened. She couldn’t believe she could have imagined it, but she must have. Figuring out why she had dreamed such horrible, punishing things could wait. Now she just wanted to run down the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen, and hug her parents for all they were worth.
Leesa threw back the covers of her bed, hopped around the wooden baseboard, took in the beauty of the bucolic yard out the window, exulted in the softness of the room’s carpet, and appreciated the comforting shapes of her colonial furniture and full closet.
She practically skipped into the hall … and ran directly into Andy Brannigan.
“Hey hon,” he said. “Welcome home.”
TO BE CONTINUED