Read my Lips

Prelude

It was very early morning. The sun was just starting to peek through the tall maple trees. Megan enjoyed the feel of it on her skin, even though the bright light hurt her eyes. She'd been down in the darkness so long, she almost forgot what sunshine felt like. What the trees and leaves smelled like. There were moments during her captivity that she was sure she'd never see the sun again.

At first, it was the rips and tears on her insides that were causing her the most pain. But now, the muscles in her calves were starting to burn and cramp. The pain was eradicating any thoughts she had of making one last desperate run for it. Megan kept her eyes down as she walked, feeling the crunch of the leaves and the cold press of the dirt against her bare feet. Her slender wrists were bound tightly behind her back. They'd been that way so long, the only feeling she had left in her fingers was random shooting bursts of pain. The nerve endings in her hands were dying. Even if he untied her now, she'd probably never have full use of her hands again. Not that it would matter to her after today.

Megan's thigh cramped harder and seized, causing her to stumble to her right. She stepped down hard on a sharp rock, cutting her foot before she fell. With her hands bound behind her back, there was no way for her to break her fall. She landed hard on her side, her head bouncing against the hard packed dirt. Her body jerked once. And then she lay still. The ground was cold against her naked flesh. Her blonde hair fell forward, obscuring her face.

"Get up."

Megan heard him. But she didn't respond. Her last hope was that maybe if he thought she was unconscious, he would leave her there to die and walk away.

"I won't ask you again."

Megan felt a shiver of fear run up her spine. But she maintained her ruse, trying to keep her breathing as low and shallow as she could. With her hair blocking her ability to see, the sound around her seemed to amplify. She heard the crunch of his boots against the ground. And then the rustle of his clothes as he lowered himself down next to her. When she felt his hand on her lower back, her stomach clenched. And for a moment, she was sure he was going to rape her again. Just like he'd done in the middle of the night. And before that, more times than she could count. The act happened regularly, starting the moment he kidnapped her and locked her up in his underground dungeon. But it wasn't her pussy or her ass he was reaching for this time. It was her finger.

With the numbness that had spread through her hands and fingers, Megan barely felt it when he grabbed the pinky on her left hand. But she certainly felt it when he bent it backwards, breaking the bone in two places at once. Megan howled in pain, thrashing on the ground. She sucked in a mouthful of her own hair when she gasped for breath. And she choked as she struggled to get it out of her mouth. She felt his hand again and he pulled the wad of her from her mouth. He leaned down close to her. And then he repeated himself.

"Get up."

Megan rolled onto her stomach. With her hands still pinned behind her back, she had to squirm and flop around before she managed to scramble back onto her feet. The foot that got cut on the rock when she stumbled was still bleeding. And with each painful step, she left a bloody smear behind her.

"You look like her, you know," he said, his voice now taking on the soft soothing tone he often used with her. It was honestly more unsettling than his angry demanding tone. Mostly because he only talked to her like that when he was about to use her body in some depraved, disgusting way. Megan fought back the bile that was rising in her throat and forced herself to keep walking. "The first girl I ever kissed. Her hair was almost exactly the same color as yours. I lived in the attic of her house for weeks. Every night, I'd come down to watch her sleep. Catherine. And her little sister Carrie. Then one night, I kissed her. Catherine was honored. She kissed me back. Later that night, I kissed her sister. And finally, her mother…"

Megan turned, flicking her eyes at the man behind her. Not that it did her any good. It was impossible to read his facial expressions with a mask covering his face. He always wore a mask. And the fact that she'd never actually seen his face was somehow creepy and reassuring at the same time. Since she'd never seen his face, she had no way to identify him. And it was obvious that he was doing something to alter the sound of his voice as well. For a while, Megan told herself that meant that he wasn't planning to kill her. She hoped he'd eventually get bored with her and let her go. But all that was done with now. He'd never let her go now. Not after she tried to stab him with a piece of wood she broke off her bedframe and sharpened into a wicked little point.

"I'm sorry for what I did," Megan said, trying to sound as pathetic and frightened as possible. This wasn't hard. She was scared shitless and being marched naked through the woods. And he liked it when she begged. "Please just let me go," she pleaded.

Megan's high pitched shriek sent a bird flying out of a nearby tree. She winced at the sharp pain in her arm where he was grabbing her. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her body against his. His dick was hard. And the feel of it pressing against her through his pants made her want to gag. He took his hand off her arm and stroked her hair back off her dirt streaked face. He touched her softly, like he really believed they were lovers.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered softly into her ear.

"What?," Megan asked, her eyes widening.

"Tell me you love me," he repeated. "...and I'll let you go."

Megan gulped, her throat bobbing with the effort. She shoved down every bit of pride she had left down deep inside her. And then she did what he wanted. "I love you," she said, blinking the tears from her eyes.

"You know what Megan?," he replied. "I don't believe you."