Enchained, p.1
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       Enchained, p.1

           Chris Lange
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  Chris Lange

  Breathless Press

  Calgary, Alberta


  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

  persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


  Copyright© 2012 Chris Lange

  ISBN: 978-1-77101-811-1

  Cover Artist: Victoria Miller

  Editor: James Darcy

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in reviews.

  Breathless Press



  Chris Lange

  Chapter One

  Her stalker was crouched in the shadows.

  Jany Reed’s heart never missed a beat. Although she had only caught a glimpse of him, she knew who it was.

  Here we go again. What’s gotten into you, Billy? You’re acting like a moron.

  The breakup had been bad. The following weeks bordered on ugly. Wherever Jany went, Billy Carter lurked. His car had been parked two rows behind hers at the supermarket, at work, and at her friends’ house, his tall shape looming in the distance. His letters filled her mailbox; his messages expended the batteries of her answering machine, yet he didn’t push for another painful, pointless face-to-face. Their relationship was history.

  For the moment, Billy didn’t seem to think so.

  Walking out of the alleyway leading to the store’s parking lot, Jany wished he would get over her. Though she did her best to ignore his presence, his stupid peek-a-boo games were getting on her nerves. When would he understand they had nothing in common? Apparently not any time soon.

  While looking straight ahead, Jany heard a shuffle behind her. Coming after me, Billy? Ballsy enough to talk to me this time? She wasn’t enthusiastic about a confrontation. Still, if she could hammer into his brain that their sex story was over, they both might find relief. Billy had been great in bed, on the living room table, and in an elevator twice. Yet once out of the sheets, he grated on her nerves. Truth be told, he totally belonged to the happy family of human nerds.

  With Anchor Town’s main street on her right, Jany blinked. Since her eyes adjusted to the gloomy alleyway, the harsh neon signs felt like burns on her retinas. Holding her handbag in one hand, she dug the car keys out of her pocket with her other, and turned left toward the parking lot.

  No strange noise followed her. She figured maybe her ex had decided to split. Typical of you, Billy. Come on, lover. Let’s get this over with so we can move on. Only silence welcomed her thoughts. She hadn’t expected anything else. Keeping her head high, Jany reached the entrance of the parking lot.

  Then she felt a sting on her neck. A familiar smell wafted to her nose. A hospital smell. Her vision instantly blurred, her body slackened. She opened her mouth, drool on her chin. Her heavy eyelids wanting to be shut. Her car key clanged on the sidewalk. Her handbag slid down her shoulder.

  Then darkness.


  At first, Jany couldn’t get rid of the murkiness obscuring her brain. Given a few seconds, her mind tore the jet-black veil. Through a hazy blur, she discerned the light blue spotless carpet. She was standing, and raising her head hurt. The pain in the side of her neck told her to quit trying, to sink back into oblivion.

  Craving water, her mouth dryer than the damn Sahara desert, she pictured a mountain waterfall raining down on her. Her eyes at last adjusting to brightness, she blinked, and her surroundings came into focus. Apart from the blue carpet, there wasn’t a touch of color. No windows. White, bare concrete walls formed an enclosed space that looked like a basement or a well lit bunker.

  Set against the wall opposite her, a television’s blank screen stared back. There was a cupboard next to it that had seen better days. To her right, the bunker door was closed. To her left and only a foot away, a high bookshelf filled with books. On the middle shelf, the sight of a much desired object made her tongue cluck. A bottle of water sat next to a glass.

  As Jany realized she was alone in this strange place, she stifled a scream. Her head must have been lolling for too long. When she strained it to have a look around, a stinging ache shot up her spine, stiffening her whole body. She wished for a bucket of painkillers served with a large pitcher of water if possible.

  Gosh, Billy, I’m gonna kill you for this. If I get my hands on you…

  She wouldn’t, at least not for the time being. Her mind alert, her vision clear, her neck on the verge of fully functioning, she looked at her hands. Metal rings locked around her wrists, Jany was reminded of the kind of horror movies she loathed. Friday the 13thh-like.

  Heavy chains ran from the iron bands to two bars about five feet apart fixed to the ceiling. Jany looked down. Her ankles were fastened too with similar chains linking the rings to handles sticking out of the floor. A little loose, the chains allowed some tiny measure of movement.

  She yanked on them, arms and legs yearning for freedom. The chains rattled, the clinking noise making her cringe. The harsh pull hurt her wrists and ankles. The pain brought her around for good, her exact situation finally hitting her. Spread-eagle, she was in chains, jailed in a basement without windows, the door probably locked. And…

  Oh shit.

  She was naked.

  What the hell?

  The door opened, and Billy Carter entered the basement. Jany stared at him not unlike a child spotting a strange glimmer inside the furry belly of his oldest teddy bear. Wearing a rigid plastic white mask with two narrow slits for the eyes, her ex-lover approached her with slow steps. She waited until he stood opposite her before lashing out at him.

  “Are you insane, Billy? Why did you lock me up? And why are you wearing that ridiculous mask?”

  Reaching out to the bookshelf, he brought the glass of water to her lips. Although Jany felt like shouting and maybe spitting at him, the temptation was too strong. She shut up and drank the proffered water, gulping life like a dried, untended plant. He put the empty glass back beside the bottle.

  Jany’s anger returned full force. “Unchain me, Billy. Your little game isn’t funny.”

  He didn’t reply, just kept on looking at her. Through the slits in the mask, she could make out his gaze. What’s wrong with him? But he stood motionless, watching her face, watching her naked body. For the first time since she had met Billy, his stare disturbed her. He could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he had never unnerved her before.

  He did now. Nailed by the green eyes, Jany blushed. Her whole body tingled, her heart taking on a different beat, her blood playing hide-and-seek in her veins. Holding on to his intense emerald gaze, she cocked her head right and left, shivering from a new, bewildering sensation.

  In spite of his tendency to stalk her, Billy didn’t frighten her. He never had. Right now, his unusual silence and unbending eyes weren’t frightening but arousing. Impossible. That couldn’t be.

  Okay, let’s get some perspective here. I’m chained up in a basement, naked, and I’m having the hots for Billy Carter again. Oh this is so not good.

  “Stop staring at me, Billy. Come on, untie me. I’m uncomfortable, and the chains hurt.”

  Her request seemed to get through. Breaking eye contact, he walked to the cupboard against the wall to retrieve a small jar. He removed the cap. Fishing a little key out of his jeans pocket, he came back to her and set the jar beside the empty glass. Jany wasn’t sure what the jar was about, but somehow she knew the little black
key meant freedom.

  She didn’t move as he unlocked the metal ring around her right wrist. When he grasped her hand, she noticed he was wearing opaque, skin colored, latex gloves. His creamy, long-sleeved shirt must have been a factor in her not noticing the gloves earlier. Before she had time to give it thought, he dipped his fingers in the jar and spread some kind of ointment on her wrist. He rubbed it in. Despite the medical gloves, his touch felt soft.

  “Thanks, although you can do that later. Let me go first.”

  Unwavering, he greased her skin. Jany wondered if by any chance he had turned deaf and dumb. Though unlikely, his lack of response still struck her as unusual. True, Billy had been a nuisance these past weeks, but he used to be a talkative nuisance. Playing the role of this stony, mute, masked character was quite a performance for him. Only when the metal ring closed around her wrist again did Jany realize something was amiss.

  “What are you doing?” She could hear the surprise in her voice as she shouted at him. “Get these chains off me. Do it now!”

  He dipped his fingers in the small jar. Then he went around her to open the lock binding her left wrist. Taken aback, Jany struck him. Her arm pushed a brick wall. Actually, she believed her arm hadn’t moved at all, her wrist blocked in an iron-like grip. Inches from her face, she looked at Billy. His masked head moved twice from right to left in a negative motion.

  The simple, silent gesture constricted her stomach. Up to this moment, she had taken Billy’s fancy as a sick joke, but she was beginning to wonder. What if he really wanted to carry out his private, sexual fantasy? What if he didn’t let her go until tomorrow? Her boss would have her hide for being late.

  “That’s enough. Let me out, Billy.”

  He applied some ointment on her left wrist, taking time to rub her skin with care before shackling her. Stunned, Jany watched his gloved hands as he knelt in front of her and repeated the process on her ankles. She didn’t try to kick him. She knew it was useless. Once she was greased like a lamb about to be impaled on a roasting spit, he put the cap back on the jar.

  When he had refilled the glass, he brought it to her lips. Still thirsty from whatever kind of drugs he had used to knock her out, she drank. Delicious water splashed her mouth, her tongue, and her throat. Billy, my friend, don’t expect a thank-you for that ‘cause you won’t get it. You can go to hell.

  As drops of water spilled down her chin, he leaned in to wipe them. So close to her, his natural scent reached her nose. She gasped. Her heart seemed to come to a standstill, her breath trapped in her lungs. The man holding her in chains wasn’t Billy Carter.

  Chapter Two

  “Who are you?”

  The question flew from her lips as soon as he moved the glass away. Jany stared at the white mask, at last assessing the finality of her position, of her nakedness. This time she blushed for good.

  He set the glass down on the middle shelf. He backed away to retrieve a DVD case from the cupboard and switch the television on before he inserted a disc into the player. The large screen came to life. Pointless images swirled in Jany’s numb mind. The masked man fiddled with the remote control, turning the sound up. Then he walked to the door and closed it quietly behind him. She was alone again.

  Oh, boy, what have I gotten myself into? That guy isn’t Billy. Same height, same athletic build, same green eyes although the shade might be a little different. But for Christ’s sake, he isn’t Billy!

  Panic bubbling up, Jany took a deep breath. She was a rational, level-headed girl. She wasn’t going to sweat bullets, but she just needed a little time to focus, to think it over. She pulled on the chains and yelped when the metal ring hit a bone in her wrist.

  Damn it, that hurts! Okay, what now? How am I gonna get out of here? Think, girl, think. If he wanted to rape me, why hasn’t he done so already? Why did he undress me? Maybe he’s a serial killer, and he likes to torture his victims. Maybe he just escaped from a loony bin. Wow, wouldn’t that be smashing? And for the love of God, why does he want me to watch that goddamn movie?

  She looked at the large screen. Long tools hanging from his belt, a naked to the waist and sturdy plumber rang a doorbell. Wearing some piece of clothing way too small to be called a bikini, a beautiful woman opened the door. She nodded when the hot plumber asked ‘Sarah Conner?’ Letting him in with a big grin on her face, they both went into the kitchen.

  A porn movie? He’s making me watch porn? I don’t believe this. Someone please, wake me up. Tell me it’s a nightmare. And Sarah Conner? What’s this film? The Fuckminator? Shit, I missed the credits.

  In the kitchen, the beautiful woman named Sarah Conner was sweating. She told the plumber she couldn’t stand the terrible heat. Inviting him to remove his pants, she wiggled out of her bikini. He didn’t seem to mind and stripped before sitting on the floor. His back to the sink cupboard, he leaned back to plunge his head between the malfunctioning pipes. She knelt in front of him to plunge her head between his spread legs.

  Oh, yeah, as if anyone would swallow such a dumb-ass scenario. Come on, people. Be realistic. That doesn’t happen in real life.

  In real life, when they allowed a stranger in their house, women usually got kidnapped, beaten, raped, and killed. Sometimes, they also ended up buck naked and chained.

  The screenplay was in dire need of editing as the hot plumber somehow managed to “fix” the pipes without any tools. Hands on his thighs, head bobbing, the beautiful woman provided him with a vigorous blowjob. Moaning like a cow about to give birth, she looked dopey, her cheeks bloated by the plumber’s private pipe. He finally emerged from the sink cupboard to push her head farther down.

  My God, she’s gonna choke on it. The way he’s holding her down, how could she not choke? Who does he think he is anyway? A master of the kitchen universe? Has he even fixed the pipes? Shit, he’s coming on her face now, and she still smiles like the big jerk she is. The whole thing is pathetic. How can people watch that crap?

  Probably because ‘that crap’ worked. In spite of her sensible viewpoint, a familiar sensation stirred her up like a python’s uncoiling after a long sleep. To Jany’s dismay, the blunt images were arousing her. Had she been safe at home, lying on her couch, she would have masturbated. Gooseflesh rose over her body. Nipples erect, she watched the screen.

  The plumber told the beautiful woman that he had to go somewhere else, and asked if she cared if his colleague finished the job in here. Of course she didn’t, as long as the job got done. As he left the kitchen without his tools, Sarah sat on the edge of the table, legs open, semen glistening on her face. A new muscular plumber entered the room. This one didn’t even bother with the sink.

  Belt unbuckled, pants down, he shoved his sex into Sarah Conner’s pussy. It must have been a first time for her because she screamed her lungs out. She seemed to enjoy the big dick’s comings and goings so much, it was a wonder her sink didn’t get clogged more often. She would think about it now.

  As the new plumber grabbed the beautiful jerk’s waist to bang her harder, Jany licked her lips. Gaze riveted to the screen, she gave up trying to control her body. Her nipples wanted to be twirled, her belly wanted to be stroked, and a light moistness seemed to come out of her.

  This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Bad actors, no script whatsoever, and I feel like a horny teenager. Dear God, what’s wrong with me? It’s so hot in this room. Is there no air-conditioner?

  The pretty jerk squealed each time the new plumber thrust his thickset pipe into her. Lying on the kitchen table, legs spread so wide a truck could have made his way into her dark tunnel, she started calling him names and demanding more, more, harder, harder. As the woman’s shouts penetrated Jany’s brain, her abductor entered the basement.

  Without looking at the screen, he stood in front of her. Having no idea what he had in store for her, she should have been scared. But the plumber’s grunts of pleasure echoed off the basement’s walls, and she was too turned on for that. A single thoug
ht running in her mind, she cocked her head. Move aside, pal, I can’t see Sarah and her handyman anymore.

  He didn’t move an inch, blocking out her view of the characters on television. Jany looked at the white mask, wondering if he was smiling at her silliness. Well, why did he play that movie if he didn’t want her to get excited? A private game of his? In that case, he ought to teach her the rules.

  The masked man reached out. When his middle finger moved toward her belly, all thoughts of plumbing fixtures left Jany. Incredulous, she watched the gloved digit as if caught in a slow-motion sequence. Yet, this was no Hollywood movie, no make-believe production.

  Randy or not, she had no intention of letting him touch her. The mere idea of his latex finger on her skin repelled her. She wasn’t going to let him put his sterilized paws on her body. No way.

  Disregarding the metal bands locked around her wrists as well as the binding chains, she leaped backward. Except that she didn’t move much. At the very best, she managed to stick her butt out a little, the rings biting her flesh in the process. Raising her face, she met his gaze. Under that white mask, she just knew he was smiling. She spat on him.

  Her saliva hit the mask. The green eyes didn’t flinch, just kept on staring at her. Then he casually wiped the spittle with a gloved hand, as if she hadn’t treated him with contempt. Frustrated beyond measure, Jany braced herself for whatever was coming her way.

  “What do you want with me?”

  Without a word, the masked man turned around. He went to the cupboard where he kept jars of ointment along with porn movies and opened one of its doors. What else had he stashed in there?

  Chapter Three

  On television, Sarah Conner and the new plumber were still having a go at it, but she had wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Unable to move, muscles tensed, Jany watched the masked man. Taking his time, not even bothering to turn the television off, he came back with an unmistakable object. Raising it to eye level, he switched it on.

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