Filthy Secret

PENELOPE

My shoulders and thighs burn as the man ties me up. I’ve been to enough rodeos with Mom to know exactly what he’s doing. Tears prick my eyes at the memories she and I shared. I didn’t expect to think about her, not like this, but at this moment, all I can do is lay my cheek against the cold tile and cry. I didn’t even cry at her funeral. How fucked up is that? Yet, here I am, about to be the plaything of God-knowswho, and I’m starting to bawl like a baby.

The fact that it’s this situation that has me remembering her and not something else feels just wrong. It’s like I’m betraying her memory right now. But it’s not my fault. None of this is my fault. Just because I can’t remember anything doesn’t mean I asked for it. Not that it helps, but maybe if I keep repeating it like a mantra, it will eventually set in.

Though the ropes are on the opposite side of the body, it’s wrists to ankles, just like the calf roping. Is that intentional? The doctor spoke at length about making me a cow, so it would stand to reason I’d be trussed up like one. Again, that tendril of arousal mixed with shame curls through my body, sending more tears pouring out of me.

“Shhhh now, little Penelope. You’ll be okay. I know the man that bought you. He’ll make sure you like it… eventually. Just close your eyes and let him do his thing. You’ll be rid of the pesky matter of your virginity in no time.”

Of course he thinks that’s why I’m crying. To a normal person, it would seem obvious, but apparently, I’m far from normal. In all of this, not once did the idea of losing my virginity cause me distress. In fact, out of all the things that could upset me about this situation, that’s the least important.

It’s more the how and why I’m losing it that’s distressing. A slight whooshing sound pricks my ears, and I crane my neck in an attempt to see what fate has in store next, but all I can see are two sets of shiny, expensive shoes as they clack their way over to me. No one says a word as they bend down and hoist me in the air.

Being tied as I am, the new position puts an extra bite of strain into my already sore shoulders. I whimper, but try not to cry out. For all I know, any sign of discomfort will make them want to just hurt me more.

“Bye Penelope,” the doctor calls out from behind me. “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

His words are a threat wrapped in the guise of a promise, and I tremble at the knife-edge of them as they cut into my soul. To his credit, he hasn’t seriously harmed me, but that could all change in an instant. I stare down at the floor, watching as it morphs from the white tile of the medical room to a plush, dark-red carpet. It’s like something from those fancy magazines I used to lust over.

The color never varies, and all I can see is a swath of red. I try in vain to follow along the path they take, but I know it’s no use. Even if I can retrace it, I’ll only know how to get back to the medical room. That won’t help me at all. The burn in my shoulders from the taut wrenching motion becomes almost unbearable as the men jostle on, giving no thought to the woman stretched out between them.

Or maybe they are? Perhaps this is the gentlest they can be? After nearly an eternity, a door finally opens, and they take me inside. The lights are lowered, so dim I can barely make out the color of the carpet, but I don’t have to see it to know it’s probably that same shade of red as the hall.

The men carry me over to a mattress on the floor, and I nearly cry out loud as the pressure eases from my shoulders. I sink into the pillowy softness, turning my head to make sure I don’t suffocate. As my eyes begin to adjust, I watch as the two leave, noting the crisp lines of their suit pants. Rich, affluent, above the law.

Minutes tick by in my head as I lie there, soaking in the comfort of the mattress. Who knows how long it will last? I wait there, shifting about as anxiety eats at me, my hands and ankles tingling. On top of that, the insane urge to pee hits slams into me, making me squirm. The moment that tingle of need hits me, it’s the only thing I can think about.

Rocking back and forth, I twist about, stifling the urge as best I can, but with my legs pulled up behind me, it’s more difficult than I planned on it being. Should I cry for help? I open my mouth when shuffling up ahead catches my ears. I’m not alone in this room! At once, my body quakes as I turn towards the sound.

The stranger says nothing. Instead, he kneels down, his red tie dangling in front of my face. Deep breaths stir the fine hairs on top of my head, and terror grips me until I’m nearly babbling with fear. The inane pleas dripping from my lips do nothing. He just kneels there, listening to me.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

After a moment, he leans down further and starts to work on the ropes. “If I let you go, you need to promise me you won’t try to run away. I can make your stay pleasant here, but only if you obey me.”

It’s that voice from earlier; the one rattling off the numbers. Sighing, I nod, mumbling, “Yes, Sir,” before relaxing back onto the mattress so he can work without me struggling. In no time, the ropes come off, and my legs and arms flop down… useless. I know I said I wouldn’t run, but does he really expect me to keep my word? They’ve fucking kidnapped me. I won’t let him do whatever he has planned without at least trying to get away.

“I – I need to use the bathroom. Please?” My voice is muffled by the thick mattress. So soft, so forlorn.

Instead of answering me, the man bends down and slides his hands under my arms to help me get up. I still haven’t seen his face, but truthfully, do I want to? If he’s stooped to kidnapping me, what’s keeping him from killing me? His warm hand wraps around my upper arm as he leads me to the opposite side of the room.

“It’s this door right over here. Take all the time you need.” As we get closer, my self-preservation kicks in, along with fractured bits of selfdefense I managed to learn throughout my life. Dropping my full weight to the floor, I jerk my arm from the stranger’s grasp and use his momentary hesitation to dart behind him towards the door I was brought in from.

I may not know my way out of this place, but I’ll run as fast as I can, yelling for anyone who can hear. The moment I reach the door, I fling it open, and another man looms in the frame. I don’t even think. All I can do is use the adrenaline pouring through my body. Shoving past, I run out into the hall and go towards the left.

Shouts follow my wake, but that’s fine. Once they catch up to me, it will be all over anyway. Let them make a ruckus; I sure as hell will be. “Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs, running as fast as my legs will take me. “I’ve been kidnapped!”