Tied up teenager

CHAPTER EIGHT

"There," she said, satisfied she'd bolted herself in. Returning to the den the young woman switched on the television, curling up in the high backed armchair and feeling herself slowly dropping to sleep.

"Oh!"

The phone rang. The shrill jangling made Emily jump. Then she thought it had to be her father phoning that he'd forgotten something. That always seemed to happen. The girl ran to the phone table and picked up the receiver, expecting to hear her father's gruff voice.

"Hi, babe. Remember me and what I told you?"

Emily's blood froze. She held the receiver to her ear, feeling her mind reeling. Her vocal cords wouldn't respond. She listened to the heavy breathing, to the awful threats. Then Jack stopped talking for a moment.

"You're all alone. We been watchin' you. We're gonna make you take back that lie you told about our buddies."

Watching her? Emily dropped the receiver to the floor, backing away from it, hugging her body, looking around the room desperately. Where would they come from? The windows? Breaking the doors down?

"Oh, God!" she cried, rushing back to the phone. They'd hung up. Good! She'd call her parents, call the police! They'd never get… Oh, no, the line was dead. They were already nearby, close enough to cut the wires!

"Help me, someone," she cried in a tiny voice, feeling so helpless. For what seemed like an eternity, Emily leaned against one wall, hugging her body tightly, pricking her ears and listening for the slightest sound that would indicate someone was breaking in. And then… and then what? How could she defend herself? Terror had numbed her reason, her confidence.

Finally shaking the paralyzing fear from her mind, the girl ran for the kitchen, pulling open one counter drawer and drawing out a carving knife. She stared at the sharp blade and how it gleamed under the light. Could she actually stab someone with that? Emily shivered, wondering how it would feel to drive that blade into another human being.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of one of the downstairs windows rattling. Her flesh crawled as she braced herself against the counter with one hand while clutching the knife with the other. The sounds came from the den area. Leaning forward she peered into the darkness. More rattling. Then there was the sound of breaking glass.

Emily felt faint. She pushed herself from the counter and rushed to one side of the swinging kitchen door, flattening herself against the wall. The girl could imagine what he'd do to her if he caught her.

"Over here," she heard someone whisper. Were they going upstairs? Could she make a break for the front door? She heard rustling sounds interrupted by the droning television. Seconds turned to long minutes – and still no one entered the kitchen.

Oh, if only she could run. Hut no! That would be giving her position away.

Then Emily heard the floor squeak just a few feet away from the kitchen door. They were coming in! She held her breath, flattening herself against the wall, tightening her fingers around the knife handle. The girl felt all emotion drained from her. She was an animal… an animal cornered and terrified, fighting for her life!

The door opened slowly. Emily drew the knife from her side when she saw a shape move out from the door. She struck quickly, bringing the blade down in a wide arc, driving the knife into someone's hand.

"Fuck!"

"Ohhhhhh, God!"

The door flew back, knocking her hard against the shoulder before she had time to run out and face her attackers. The girl saw blood on the floor, on her clothes, on Jack. Bob lunged for her. His hands were all over, knocking her back, snapping her from side to side. The young marine slid one foot behind her legs, pushed her back while twisting her right arm to one side, and slammed her wrist against the refrigerator. With a wail Emily felt the knife fly from her fingers.

They had her!

What happened next was a nightmare. Hands came from everywhere, slapping her, spinning her around, knocking her finally down to the floor. Emily covered her face, trying to protect herself. She screamed, twisting around, breaking temporarily away from the hands grabbing her shoulders and waist, scooting across the kitchen floor. But Jack and Bob were determined to punish the young blonde for her betrayal. They reached for her wrists and ankles, cursing her, striking the teen again and again across the face, telling her how they were going to torture her.

"Oh, God, help me!"

Emily screamed out again and again, one time actually managing to crawl up to the sink counter to reach out, pounding on the small double window with her fists until the glass cracked. Across the dark yard she could see the lights of her neighbor's house. Inside everyone was warm, enjoying dinner. Why didn't someone look up and see her? Emily screamed again, clawing at the small white kitchen curtains until Jack hooked one around her waist and pulled her away. He spun her around then pushed her back against the refrigerator. The young girl felt the handle jab into her spine like a knife, the force of that shove knocking the wind out of her. A cookie jar fell off the top and shattered on the floor. Emily felt her heart pounding wildly. She closed her eyes and prayed as she sank terrified to the floor.

"C'mon, let's get 'er outta here," Jack muttered.

Emily felt arms sup under her knees, lift her from the floor, and carry her quickly out the back door. She wanted to scream. Yet she was too dazed, too weak with terror to make a sound. She heard a dog barking from the next lot. There were people all around her. If only she could alert them.

"Get in, slut!"

Jack shoved the blonde teen into the rear of an old pick-up, climbing in behind her.

"Let's head out," the big marine said forcefully as Bob jumped into the driver's seat.

The truck whined, then turned over and roared into action. Emily felt the vehicle jerk forward then speed down the narrow street. She curled herself tightly into a small ball, hugging her waist and chest hard, feeling the stupor that had temporarily settled over her brain slowly evaporate. She peered out the rear window and saw they were heading east along Las Pulgas Road – away from her home, protection, her father.

"Where… are we going?" she whispered haltingly as the truck veered sharply to the right down Van De Graff. The few lights illuminating this section of the hilly marine base ended. They might as well have been traveling through the desert.

"Little fuckin' shit. I told you what'd happen if you talked," Jack said.

"I swear if, I didn't mean to! It just… came out," Emily confessed. "I couldn't help it," she said, drawing one hand to her mouth and biting her fingernails.

"Don't matter much now. We can't show our faces on base. Good thing we managed to get in through the South Gate, though… one of our buddies let us in." Emily raised her, eyebrows. "Surprise you, eh? You, a fuckin' officer's daughter, probably think everything's run according to the book, right?"

Emily turned her face away and looked through the rear window. They were heading into an area used only during war gaming. In the distance she could see the bright halo of lights where the large Naval Hospital stood.

"Over there."

The truck slowed then turned left again, bouncing along a dirt road. At times Emily thought they were going to overturn. Her teeth chattered as they climbed up a large hill to the right.

"Okay, man, stop here."

"Where the fuck are we?" Bob asked, leaning over the steering wheel and peering into the night. There didn't seem to be anything around for miles.

"Just over the ridge. Can't take the truck up there. Let's take super-cunt with us," lack said, reaching over and unlocking Emily's door. Bob slid out the front seat and opened her door, making sure she didn't try to escape.

"Insurance," he said, looping a small rope around her wrists and binding them tightly together, locking the rope with a double hitch figure eight. Emily felt like a prisoner of war. Jack locked the truck doors, then joined them as they started up the path that wound up from the truck. Looking back, Emily could see the big marine had parked the truck under some pines. No one would spot it. Even if her father had returned from the party early and discovered her missing and called out a search party, no one could find it!

"This way," Jack muttered, pointing to another, smaller path to the left.

Emily picked her way carefully through the tall brush. When they reached the top of the bill, she saw a cluster of four rectangular one story wooden buildings nestled together in a small valley. Camp Pendleton had many of these small compounds usually used as command headquarters for the many training armies during war gaming. At other times they were deserted.

"Down there, babes. No one's gonna bother us here, trust me."

Emily stumbled several times, tumbling to the ground and rolling several feet. Dirt and weeds flew into her face. The blonde teen sobbed, shook her head, begged for them to help her up. But all Jack and Bob did was kick her in the ribs, nudge her with their booted feet and yell at her to get up.

Choking down cries of terror, the blonde teenager shook the hair from her eyes and staggered up, picking her way more carefully down the path toward the compound.

About thirty feet from the first building she heard barking. Freezing, the young teen turned around and looked at Jack. What was going on? The big man stood some distance behind her, his arms folded over his broad chest, that strange smile on his face.

"Somethin' the matter?"

"Barking? You've got dogs here?"

At that point the sound of a door creaking open caught her attention. Emily wheeled around, her eyes growing wide when she saw a tall, thickly built man of about forty step from the building. Something was moving nervously to his right. Only when he approached her did the girl realize it was a large black German shepherd. The girl stepped back, her heart contracting while her pulse raced. She shivered as the dog froze in his tracks, his dark brown eyes rolling up and studying her while his bushy tail drooped and wagged slowly from left to right. She thought she could see the fur around his neck stand up. A low, steady, threatening growl from his throat made the teenager feel faint.

"You got 'im, eh, Frank?"

"Yeah, wasn't that easy, though. Man, security's really beefed up since them fuckin' hippies tried to break into the armory by the South Gate last month," the fat man said, jerking up on the leather leash when the German shepherd started pulling.

"We're gonna convince this little cunt to change her story about Tad," lack said, reaching out and damping his fingers on her right shoulder. Emily winced, feeling pain as he tightened his grip.

"So, this is the little bitch who put Doug and Tad in the brig," the big marine said, his thick lips curling up into a smile.

"I'll change my story! I swear I will, just let me go," Emily gasped, trying to smile.

"Man, I don't trust you. You said you weren't gonna say a damned thing. And there you go, shootin' off your mouth the first chance you get. No, no way! We're gonna make sure you know what the fuck's gonna happen if you cross us again. And man, we're gonna make sure your old man's gonna get shots of his daughter fuckin' if you don't do like we want," Jack said, nodding to Frank. The fat marine grinned broadly, reaching in the pocket of his leather jacket with his free hand and pulling out a small flash camera.

"This mutt been through this before?" Bob asked as Jack moved up to the girl, gripping her blouse by the front and ripping it from the screaming blonde.

"Yeah. 'Course, the ol' man don't know what we use his mutts for when night comes. He thinks they just go to bed or somethin'. Got some Mexican chicks up from TJ couple a' nights ago. Shit, for some booze and fifty, apiece you shoulda seen what them broads went through with two Dobeys!" Frank said, his fat belly jiggling as he laughed.

"No, don't!" Emily cried. She felt her pink blouse torn from her shoulders, ripped down her back and left hanging in ribbons around her bound wrists. Sliding one arm around her waist, Jack then unhooked the front buttons of her skirt, pushing it down to the ground. Emily shivered. All she was wearing now were a bra and a pair of white silk panties, gifts from her father. Closing her knees together, she stood shivering in the night air, her head hunched down into her shoulders.

"Man, nice, tight little ass," Jack said, rubbing his hands over the silky material of her briefs, working it into her tight ass-crack. "Maybe we can get together again tonight after I finish beating the piss outta you. Man, we'll fuck! Who knows, eh, bitch?" he said, raising his eyebrows and enjoying the girl's growing confusion and terror.

"Don't… oh, Tad, please, don't… hurt me," Emily gasped, shaking her head from side to side. If there were only some way she could make them believe she'd change her story.