PDZ: Mission Aborted

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      Chapter Two

      Killian’s guard sat on the edge of the bare mattress bed, smoking a cigarette he had retrieved from a pocket in his jeans. He was still buck-naked, as was Joanna. As he took another inhale from his tobacco stick, he wondered what to do with this girl. Killing her and dumping her body in the bay was his safest option, but he had already committed rape tonight, he didn’t particularly want murder on his conscious too. So much for being moral-less he laughed to himself, blowing another plume of smoke from his mouth. Joanna still lay practically in the same position she had been when he had finished defiling her, her sore wrists still tethered above her head to both bedposts. Any opportunity to escape I see, I need to take it, she thought, biding her time. She watched as her captor and rapist finished with his cigarette, threw it to the floor and with shoe in hand, stubbed it out with the sole. He then walked around the side of this basic bed, and she almost flinched as he reached across her. To her surprise though, he untied both her hands. With no explanation, he stood and watched as she bought her tired arms and rubbed her wrists. The two exchanged looks, with Jo unable to read his blank but superior-seeming stare. She wanted to ask him what he was going to do next, but was afraid of what he might say.

      The man finally made up his mind. It had only just hit 10pm, they weren’t expecting him back at work until at least 11, so he still had a good deal of time to have fun. He decided to go to the corner of the room to retrieve the psychosis gun from his jacket pocket. She had become sobered up far too much for his liking; besides, tranquilising her again would probably be a mercy act in light out what he intended to do with her next. He knew that she would undoubtedly make a break for the top deck and her escape, but he knew something she didn’t. With a smirk he turned and knelt down the pile of his clothes. As he rummaged through his jacket, he listened to hear his victim attempt to slowly slide off the mattress without alerting him. After searching all his jacket and jeans pockets, he realised that he’d seemingly misplace the psychosis gun. To further his frustrations, he heard the girl bolting for the door and up the wooden staircase to the top deck. Having to act quickly, he grabbed the only thing available to him; his Falcon pistol, and gave chase.

      Joanna ran as fast as she could up the creaky wooden steps. That was too easy, she thought to herself, approaching the deck and her potential freedom. Rushing naked into the night air and to the bow of the ship, she looked out in horror across the water to the see the docks of the nightclub what seemed like a mile away; the powerboat journey from there seemed a lot shorter whilst she was drugged up. She had to think quickly, since her captor was undoubtedly following her up those steps. Then it hit her, the powerboat that had bought them here must still be docked with the boat. She looked over the edge of the portside, checking to see which side the powerboat was on. Yes, she thought, spotting it further astern. Just she was about to make a dash for her escape vehicle, she heard the click a pistol’s safety disengaging behind her.

      “That’s quite enough.” The male voice said.

      He stood at the top stairs, pointing the Falcon at her. She had frozen halfway bent over the side of the side, her pert ass sticking out. Slowly she stood up straight, apparently not wanting to die here.
      “I decide when we’re finished.” The guard said. He walked up behind her, gun still pointing at her head. “Turn around, slowly.” The red-headed girl obliged, her eyes lifelessly looking at him as she turned to face him. He stood for a few seconds, before another idea came to mind. “On your knees.” He ordered, gun pointed between her eyes. She didn’t reply, standing still in silent defiance. “If you want to live longer, you’ll do what I say.” He commanded. She blinked, and still did nothing. His pulse quickening in anger, and he grabbed her by the left arm and put the gun to her right temple. Their faces close again, he could see now the badly hidden fear in the whites of her eyes. She relaxed the muscles in her arm as if to submit to him, and she slowly descended to her knees. He kept his gun pointed at the top of her head just in case she attempted to jump ship again. It was obvious what he wanted, and she took his semi-hard cock and starting rubbing it with both hands. He let out a moan of pleasure, as his rod grew to its full hardness.
      “You know what I want you to do next.” He said. She stopped stroking his hard-on for a second. He glared down at her. She held his manhood aloft as if gathering her courage, before reluctantly parting her moist pink lips and taking it into her mouth. He let out an uninhibited groan of pleasure; her mouth felt so warm and soft, he nearly didn’t need any encouragement to let lose. However, he kept his nerve as she slowly began to move her head backwards and forwards, all the while her tongue running free around his rod. The taste wasn’t pleasant, but there was something strangely nice about this for Joanna. Maybe it was the realisation that he’d already had his proper way with her, the relief that she was still alive or just the rhythmic motions in which she sucked his manhood like an ice-pop, but she couldn’t deny enjoying this. He started lightly pumping his hips, as she kept her head still and let him do her mouth, his slick rod being guided pleasingly in and out. She even grabbed his buttocks to help direct his rhythms. He could feel the cool air blow gently across his naked body which only heightened his feelings of elation. He looked down at the girl, looking so fine as her cherry pink lips continuing to envelop his dick.
      He suddenly snapped out of this glorious pleasure. No, this isn’t how I wanted to end it, he thought. He withdrew his penis from her mouth, and she looked up at him as if to say ‘what?’. He pointed the gun at her again and gave her new orders.
      “Downstairs”. He said firmly, stepping back; leaving a big enough distance between them. She slowly rose to her knees, and walked leisurely and fairly confidently back towards the steps leading below deck. He followed her, gun pointed at her back in case she tried something else. As she took each step, she became intentionally slower, after all, she wasn’t in any particular rush to get back on that bed. By the time they were nearing the bottom of the stairs the guard had had enough of her insubordination and pushed her faced-first towards the bed. She fell just short of it, her knees landed on the floor, her upper body bent over the bed.
      “That’s just where I want you.” The man said, letting the Falcon drop to the floor, and gathering up another piece of rope. A large hand pushed down on Jo’s back, and before she knew what was happening, a noose of rope had gone round her neck. It wasn’t tight, but wasn’t exactly comfortable either. She was reminded of the traditional image of the noosed rope around the neck, and felt a sick wave of panic come over here.
      “What are you doing?” She spluttered, not moving for fear of him using the noose to choke the life out of her. She could see a smile out of the side of his mouth as he stood next to her briefly and threw the other noosed end over the post at the other end of the bed.
      “Keeping you here.” He said. He then knelt on the floor behind her, her ass elevated in the air. “Rapists are supposed to be rough” he said, lining up his penis with her already defiled hole. Jo braced herself, tears swelling in her eyes again. “so, that’s what I’m going to *do*”. He rammed his rod forcibly inside her, as she let out a weak cry of discomfort. He started his barraged strong and fast, battered her buttocks with his stomach as her pumped her slick cavity hard and fast. No slow and steady build-up, just maximum energy he thought, as he beat against her, grabbing her hips and using them to push her slightly back and forward in time with his pumping. He looked at her rocking into time with his body, her head buried in the mattress and both her hands gripping this makeshift bed. After a couple of minutes though, he withdrew from her. That should be enough, he thought. Joanna opened her eyes in surprise, expecting him to have gone all the way inside her again. Instead, she felt his hand push her onto the bed via her rear. Another position, she thought. He was close behind her, making sure she stayed facing down. Now lying flat facedown on the mattress, he was knelt between her legs, nudging them further apart with his own legs. Her fears were affirmed when she felt him parting her buttocks with one hand. That little session and blowjob must have been for lubrication… she thought grimly.
      “No, don’t…” she said meagrely, using her hands behind her back to try to weakly push him away. “Told you it was going to be rough”. Her rapist said, lining up his rod with her back entrance. He lowered his torso down, slowly but surely plunging his thick member into her ass. Joanna bit her lip in anguish as her passage burned with this long, foreign object. Her butt cheeks tense as his stomach and balls bumped against her when he had gone as deep as he could. It was so pleasing tight, but with tightness comes more friction. He pulled himself back gently and began to pump away slowly, enjoying the sensations as much as possible. Jo had her eyes closed, wishing she was somewhere else. He increased his movements, taking pleasure in the way her amazing ass jiggled every time he hit it. Using his outstretched arms as supports, he continued to pound her at a right angle, which seemed to be achieving the greatest penetration and the greatest pleasure. The girl was now exhaling with a moan every time his hit her ass, which he was pretty sure must have been down at least partly to pleasure at this point. No, you’re enjoying this too much Jo, she told herself, as the satisfying rhythmic defilement of her back passage continued. Fuck it, something said in her mind, might as well enjoy it fully while I’m here. One of aching hands that had been clutching the fabric of the mattress moved down. Her ass was already raised slightly to provide the best angle for her lover/rapist’s motions to penetrate her, and she slipped the hand under her stomach and began rubbing her clit. Her assailant saw this and smile wryly, leaning down briefly and planting a series of kisses on the back of neck. In response she began to rock her hips and rub her clit quicker, signally that she wanted to go faster. He happily obliged, ramping the speed up considerably. She was now moaning at loudly and rhythmically as he beat her cushioning butt cheeks, her head held high in pleasure. Suddenly, her moans grew even quicker and louder, and he knew it was nearly time. As the headboard of the bed knocked even faster and louder against the wooden wall, he pumped into her as hard as he could in these last few seconds, before he drew back and rammed into her hard one last time. She let out a loud cry as they both arched their backs up in a beautiful synergy, as the energy and fluids drained from them.
      They lay interlocked with him lying against her for the next few moments as they caught their collective breathes. He placed some more seemingly affectionate kisses on her upper back and neck. Jo winced uncomfortably as he slowly withdrew himself from her tight behind. She looked back over her shoulder at him, rolling onto her side as he stood up and began to get dressed. As he slipped on his boxers and jeans, he tried not to think how beautiful she looked even in her dishevelled state; he didn’t have anymore time to spend with her. Jo watched silently, still tied by the neck to the bed, once again afraid to ask what was going to happen next. Her mind wondering about possible chances of escape, she noticed a small, short-barrelled weapon on the floor. It was not the Falcon pistol he’d wielded earlier, perhaps the tranquiliser gun he had used to knock her out. Intently watching that his back was still turned, she observed that the length of rope tying her to one of the bedposts might have enough slack for her to reach the weapon. Of course, if he got close enough she could try and garrotte him with the spare length. Either way, she knew she had to make a move soon.
      After having put back on his white t-shirt, he picked up and slung his black leather jacket on. He paused for a second, looking at the Falcon pistol lying on the floor. He tried to think of another way, but letting her go was not an option, since she was bound to either tell someone what he did or try to kill him. Was he really going to do have murder on his conscious? Sure, he’d already had forced sex with a girl (although she might as well have consented by the end, the way she seemed to be enjoying it) but at worse he’d just ruined her evening. Did he really want to rub out her life as well?


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      Author’s note:

      I’ve left this fic intentionally open-ended, leaving it up to you, the viewers, to decide for yourself what happens to Jo. My reasons for this is that I didn’t particularly want to write Joanna Dark being murdered (boy, am I sentimental), and because I guess even though this is a mere adult ‘alternate universe’ fic, I have created some sort of story genesis here. I am naively optimistic that someone will a) like it and b) might want to do a sequel to it.

      As far as I see it, there are three ways the story could progress: a) the guard disposes of Joanna (most realistic outcome), b) Joanna manages to overpower the guard and escape (less likely) or c) Joanna decides to remain with the guard of her own accord, possibly taking advantage of him for her own sexual advancement (extremely unlikely but hey, this is adult fan fiction not real life).

      I leave it up to you to take whatever you want from this, and decide on your own ending. I hope you enjoyed what I left to you.