Mandy's Story Read Free

noise. “We have a little
farther to travel tonight and then I’ll stop. I know you’re thirsty
and I didn’t give you back the urine bottle. So sorry.”
    When he finally got his hands on her,
she would be sorry. Unable to rest his mind, he spent his time
imagining exactly what it would feel like to strangle her; the
thought of her delicate neck between his fingers made him
smile.
    After turning onto a very bumpy road
and then traveling several miles more, she stopped the truck. After
a few minutes rolled the door up. She didn’t appear to be concerned
about him escaping this time, but she did look tired. First, she
passed the urine bottle and then used the green rake to push over a
large one-gallon jug of water.
    “ I know the water won’t
fit through the bars, but you can tip it and drink. I have two more
up front along with two sleeping bags. I know the cage is
uncomfortable.”
    He drank deeply and then looked at her.
“How would you know it’s uncomfortable?”
    Her eyes looked dreamy for some reason.
“I lay inside and checked it out before putting you in
there.”
    “ Why would you do that?”
She perplexed him at every turn.
    “ I know you don’t
appreciate all the time and effort I put into your abduction, but I
wanted you as comfy as possible.”
    His laugh came out on a rumbling growl.
“Comfy?”
    “ Yes, comfy.”
    He switched gears. “Do you know how old
I am?”
    Her eyes swept over him. “Over three
hundred, but that matters little.”
    “ It matters a lot.” The
words were slightly less than a snarl.
    Nothing seemed to affect her. “I’ve
been studying history on the internet so we can have common stuff
to talk about.”
    He looked away, inhaled deeply, and
then couldn’t help asking, “Such as?”
    “ Patty Hearst.”
    “ Who?” he
snapped.
    “ She was kidnapped in
1974.” By the tone of her voice, she obviously thought he should
know who the hell she was talking about.
    He almost ended the conversation right
there, but somehow his next question tumbled out, “And that
interests me why?”
    The smirk came back. “Well, it
interests me.”
    He gave a long exhalation.
“Explain.”
    “ I mentioned it before,
but then you exploded.” She looked around for a few moments then
turned and stared pointedly at his lap. “You have a large
member.”
    He shook his head in disbelief. “Fuck,
you’re kidding me? A member?” She should go on a comedy
tour.
    Just a touch of pink spread up her
cheeks. “What do you call it?” she asked.
    He managed not to laugh at her naïveté.
“My cock, my dick, and at the very least my penis. Where the hell
did you get ‘member’? A romance novel?”
    The pupils in her eyes went to
pinpoints and her voice held indignation. “I’ll call it your penis
if member upsets you so much.” She crossed her arms over her
breasts.
    His patience slipped when she dared to
show attitude. His demeanor rapidly accelerated to rage and was
reflected in his voice. “Living in a fucking cage upsets me. Being
kidnapped by a fucking cub upsets me. Having my cock called a
member is ridiculous.”
    “ I told you talking about
Stockholm syndrome would make you explode again.”
    He shook his head, took a long steady
breath and then silently counted to ten before speaking, “I’m not
exploding, and please hand me the other sweats so I can cover my…
member.”
    She didn’t say a word, just shoved the
pants his way. He watched her leave the truck then come back a few
minutes later with two sleeping bags and pillows. She pulled down
the truck’s door and removed a candle from her endless shopping
bags of goodies. Her small fingers lit the wick with a match, and
then she dripped wax on the floorboards in order for the candle to
stay upright. When her candlelit room was satisfactory, she pushed
a sleeping bag his way. He grabbed it and unrolled the thick
musty-smelling dark blue material. After wiggling it through the
metal slats, he arranged it on the bars beneath