Chapter Seven
May 23rd, 10:25 PM
"Damn him!" Erin thought. "Damn him, damn him, DAMN HIM!"
She wanted to scream, to curse his name aloud, but she couldn't: the gag reduced all of her cries to pitiful little whimpers. She wanted to kick and punch something, but she couldn't do that either: the Spaniel had wrapped her tight, and it didn't like she was going to be able to break these bolo-bolas using her strength alone.
She looked up at the stars, but couldn't appreciate their majesty even the slightest bit. All she could think about right now was the Spaniel: how much she hated him, and how badly he had humiliated her. What had been the worst part of it all? Being so easily overpowered, being pushed around and tied up like she was a helpless child? Him taunting her with removing her mask, forcing her to plead with her eyes, forcing her to shake and shiver in total fear, and then finally deciding not to go through with it? Or was the worst of it this final insult: the removal of her utility belt, the seizure of the one item that might have helped her get out of these bonds, the taking of all of the items that made her a superheroine?
She was beside herself with rage, at the Spaniel for his cruelty and arrogance, but also at herself. How could she have ever allowed herself to trust this... boy? And how could she have allowed him to defeat her so... Comprehensively? How did all of this happen? Why was she here?
A voice in Erin's head told her to calm down. "Relax, Blue Lynx" it said. "You've had a bad night. You've had other bad nights before. You got through them, and you'll get through this one. Just concentrate on getting out of this mess, and then you can get your revenge."
Revenge. The thought of it almost made Erin smile (though the gag would've prevented that, too). She would end the Spaniel, plain and simple. She didn't care that she helped him twice. No one-- no one-- would get away with embarrassing the Blue Lynx. Oh, she'd show him.
But first, she had to free herself from her current predicament, which didn't seem like it was going to be easy. Erin had been pulling at the bolo-bolas for almost ten minutes, and there hadn't been any give. Just like his combat skills, the Spaniel's tools were ruthlessly effective. She'd have to find a tool of her own if she wanted to get free.
She turned her head, scanning the rooftop. She looked from unconscious Rattlesnake to unconscious Rattlesnake, hoping for some kind of sharp surface. And that's when she saw it: a large Bowie knife in the belt of a face-down, motionless thug.
The man was about twenty feet away. Erin considered trying to hop to her feet, but the tightness of her bonds made even that simple movement impossible. "Screw it," she thought. She pressed her arms into her chest, turned her body, and began to roll. She moved slowly but confidently across the rooftop, like an oblong blue and white barrel, her field of vision alternating between the rough cement of the ground and the sparkling night sky. She got within a few inches of the unconscious Rattlesnake and stopped rolling, faced him, and scooted her body bit-by-bit around his, until her hands were nearly touching the handle of his knife.
She reached out, fingered the weapon, and heard a cough. She looked up at the man's head and saw that he was staring at her, a creepy grin stretched across his stubbled face.
"Why hello there," he said.
Erin's eyes widened. She made a break for the knife, but the man rolled away in time, leaving her alone on the ground while he gingerly took to his feet.
"MMPH!" Erin moaned, meaning "Dammit."
"What have you gotten yerself into, Blue Lynx?" the man said, admiring her bound body. "Yer all tied up."
"Mmph mmph," Erin mumbled, meaning "No shit."
"Guess you was goin' for my Bowie knife here," the man said, tapping his weapon. "Well, you ain't gettin' it now."
He moved in a circle around Erin, taking in every part of her-- her thighs, her chest, her fearful expression-- and licking his lips. He tapped at the bare flesh of her legs with his cowboy boot, and Erin squirmed on contact.
"Just you and me here now," he said, quietly. "Just you and me..."
Erin watched him intently, waiting for his next move, knowing she could do nothing to stop whatever he had planned.
"I suppose we should get to know each other better!" the man laughed. He reached down at Erin, and before she could roll an inch away, he had her in his arms, was taking her up by the armpits. He dragged her roughly across the rooftop, pulling her boots across the concrete, making no effort to watch where his filthy hands were holding her.
"MMPH!" Erin said, feeling his fingers slip down her chest and underneath the seam of her V-neck. "MMMPHHH!"
"I like you better already," the man said. They had reached the edge of hotel, and the Rattlesnake threw Erin over the low brick wall, pushing her stomach down so that her upper body dangled perilously over the edge. A prompt fit of nausea gripped Erin as she looked down and the people and cars hundreds of feet below her. She banged her bound hands against the bricks, but couldn't budge: the man was leaning on top of her, his groin pressed against her backside, his hands pushing on her back.
"I guess I should ask for, whaddya call it, consent before we get going," the man chuckled. "So whaddya say, Blue Lynx? You wanna get fucked right now?"
Erin's eyes widened. She tried to turn her head around, wanted to implore the man to stop. But the force of his body left her hanging, and all she could manage was a loud, pained "MMMPH!"
The man laughed. "I'll take that as a yes!"
She felt his fingers pinching at the spandex on her bottom, could feel it as he pulled the fabric up and away from her skin, felt a painful sting as he released his fingers and her costume snapped back, jiggling her ass.
"That was a good one!" the man said. "Say, you wearin' anything under this little costume?"
Erin squeezed her eyes together as he felt him again snatch her spandex, this time pulling it even further up, clearly taking his time observing Erin's underwear.
"A lingerie-wearin' superheroine?" he said. "Ain't that something!"
He let go of the fabric, and it smacked into Erin's rear with a loud CRACK. It felt like being whipped, and Erin howled into her gag.
"Guess I better divest you of said garments if we're gonna get down to it," the man said.
Erin could do nothing to stop him. She stared down at the cars, feeling the wind blow through her hair, telling herself to just not think about anything. She was bound and gagged and completely at this man's mercy, and this man seemed merciless. It was best to just not even try to fight back... To not care when he slipped both hands through the leg holes of her costume, to just look on when he squeezed her ass and chuckled maniacally, to try, try, and try to just... go blank... while he grasped for the lacy elastic band of her panties, pushed aside her spandex, began to pull her underwear down off the ridge of her ass, down, down, down...
On to Chapter Eight
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