Stolen -7- Cabin

We approached the front door of the cabin, Bonnie with her hand in the middle of my back. "Try to whimper a little," she advised.

"You're kidding, aren't you?" I asked, knowing that tears were already running down my face from my eyes and into my nose. It had begun to itch, a miserable feeling. I couldn't reach anything because Bonnie's velcro tape restrained my hands behind my back, each wrist fastened to the opposite arm above the elbow. "I don't have to try," I complained in a whimper.

"We're going to sell Earl on the idea that you are a helpless captive," she responded. I snorted, blowing a bit of snot onto my upper lip. No way to reach it with my tongue, and did I even want to do that? It probably looked as disgusting as it felt.

Just as we reached the door, she took her hand off my back and slapped me on the ass. It didn't really hurt because of the padding I was wearing, but it did startle a yelp out of me, and probably more snot out of my nose.

Bonnie opened the door, saying in a hard voice as she did, "Don't give me any backtalk, Dolly. There are ping-pong paddles out in the garage, and those really hurt."

She said this when and where Earl could overhear, and I realized that this was at least partly play-acting for his benefit. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I hung my head and tried to whimper as she had suggested. It wasn't hard to do, and it was either that or hysterical giggles.

Bonnie pushed me on through the door, and I caught a glimpse of Earl sitting on a couch, half-turned to look at us, with a huge TV against the wall behind him showing some action movie. He wore a good-ole-boy grin, the first time I'd seen any expression on him besides a scowl or a snarl. It was hardly an improvement.

"You wanna give her a swat or two, Earl, honey?" Bonnie called to him. "She thought since she's bigger than me, she was tougher. I had to slap her around a bit." She swatted me on my padded butt again, startling a noise out of me halfway between a grunt and yawp. I didn't have to pretend, I'd really been startled by the slap.

I kept my face turned away from Earl, in case my expression gave the game away, and I kept on whimpering. I felt a little silly. I struggled and squirmed a bit, too, but Bonnie's tape fastened my hands behind me in such a way that I had no hope of getting them loose.

"No, thank you, sugar," Earl said. "Moose gave you permission to keep her in line, but he might not like it if I took any liberties with his squeeze, 'less I have to." He chuckled. "Whopping her ass through that dress don't seem to bother her much, though. Pull her hem up a bit and slap her naked thighs," he ordered her.

I did glance at him. He was showing his tongue touching his lower lip. Ice went through me, and I backed away from him. The man scared me—his expression looked like naked lust.

Bonnie turned me toward her so I could look her right in the face. She had no expression at all, but she nodded once. 

I tried to get away. "No, please don't," I whimpered for real this time.

She yanked me back by my arm, pulled the dress up and before I could try to avoid it, she slapped the back of my bare thighs, just above my knees, twice each side.

I knew it was coming, but still the sting was a surprise. "Ow! Ow!" It didn't hurt that much, and I even tried to play it up a bit for Earl. Was Bonnie going easy on me? I hoped so, but it might be dangerous for both of us.

He laughed. "You ought to swat her good for trying to avoid it," he suggested. "If you're going to spank someone for real, you keep doing it till they start bawling. And maybe longer." He laughed again, a nastier one this time. "Remember that time I spanked you till you threw up?" His laugh became a cruel bray.

Bonnie looked at me again—still without expression. Now she was scaring me. I imagined German guards with the same non-expression pushing prisoners into railroad cars on their way to death camps.

I shook my head, stammering in a whisper, "P-please. Please, d-don't." Tears already ran down my face. I'd forgotten the almost playful act we had just tried to fool Earl with and was not far from being terrified into panic. If Earl ordered Bonnie to beat me, I realized she would do it.

But she made the decision to get us out of there. "Move," she said, pushing me toward the hallway. With my hands fastened behind me, I felt awkward and off-balance, and she steered me with a hand on my elbow. 

"Earl's a real jackass, in case you hadn't noticed," she said quietly when we were far enough down the hall that he probably couldn't hear her.

I didn't want to look back. He'd stopped laughing, and I thought he might have gone back to watching his movie, but I didn't want to see him.

A door at the end of the hall stood partly open, showing a sink, but we stopped before that, and she opened a different door. "This is Moose's room. You'll be sharing it with him."

I gasped at the thought, thinking about Moose and me on the bed in the RV. It seemed it had been a long time ago.

"Go in," she urged.

I did. It was a large room, wider than my room at home and more than half again as long. It had polished wood floors and cedar paneling on the lower-half of tan-painted walls that went up to a beamed and stuccoed ceiling. A huge bed, probably king-size unless they make something larger, was covered with brown and cream blankets and filled a major part of the room. 

Western-styled furniture sat against two walls while the long wall opposite the door was mostly glass covered with curtains and heavy drapes. Through a narrow opening in the window cover, I could glimpse a broad deck overlooking a meadow bordered in cedars and California oaks.

The end wall opposite the bed had two doors, one partly open showing an over-size shower stall. The other door was closed and had a padlock. A large television hung on the wall between the doors, visible from anywhere in the room, and a desk below the screen held a video console and small monitor and keyboard for what was probably a computer concealed under the desk.

"Nice, huh?" Bonnie said behind me.

"I deed to blow by dose," I said.

"Sure, doll," she said, grabbing a couple of tissues from the top of the chest of drawers by the door.

It's humiliating to have someone help you blow your nose, but Bonnie was efficient as if she had done this for other captives before.

"Can you untie me?" I asked, but she shook her head.

"No can do, Dolly," she said. "I'm supposed to lock you in Moose's closet until he gets back, hands and feet tied."

I gasped, the action reminding me that I had a corset around my middle, too.

"Earl's idea," she explained. "He'll ask me if I did, and it's not a good idea to lie to him."

I remembered Moose telling me something similar, not that I had had much opportunity to lie to anyone. I felt my chin tremble, realizing that I might be about to cry again. "I-is Earl going to kill me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. He wouldn't dare. You keep Moose happy, and you'll be safe as houses."

I stared at her. She nodded. The implication seemed clear but left me quivering. I'm supposed to pretend to be Moose's girlfriend. How could "Keep Moose happy" mean anything but what it seemed to mean?