Bondage story - The Phantom of the Roxy - 39

The next day Jessica learned that, according to Ira, she had gone to dinner with Mrs. Crow after her measuring. Apparently they had really hit it off, she and the creepy old woman. It was a lie that Jessica found unbearable to the point of nausea, especially when Sarah and Tina, who had also been surreptitiously groped by the surly lesbian seamstress, stared at her with lips curled in disgust. She amended the story by saying that Ira had insisted she accompany the old woman to her car, and that they’d found a boot on the car’s tire. Then she’d had to wait with the insufferable crone until the cops showed up to unlock the boot. She hated making up stories like a naughty child, but it was better than having her friends believing she’d gone out to dinner with Mrs. Crow.

Tina had wasted no time diving into David’s bed. They’d spent the night together, and Tina wasn’t the least bit coy about it. Yet, despite the dark beauty’s brazen references and lewd jokes, the dynamic hadn’t changed between the four of them, and as far as she could tell, there was no resentment or awkwardness. At lunch Sarah and Tina were giggling and fipping a coin to see who’d sleep with David that night. It was apparently assumed that soon Jessica, too, would end up bedding David, and all would be well, so she wasn’t left out of the joking and teasing. Just one big happy family!

Jessica shrugged it off. She was attracted to David, and while she had never been the kind of girl who hopped into bed with every good-looking guy who came along, this situation was so oddly comfortable, her girlfriends so open about their sexual escapades with him, that she felt as though she might make an exception with David, if only...

It was her situation with the Whisperer that was keeping her distracted, and with that going on, she couldn’t imagine relaxing and having a normal roll in the hay with a normal guy like David. Of course, she couldn’t explain that to him. All she could do was put him off for now, and hope that the situation changed soon.

The whisperer didn’t take her that day. After rehearsal she and her friends tried a new restaurant, a low-end Thai joint, and the food was passable if not memorable. Tina spent a second night with David, and Sarah came over to Jessica’s room for a little while. They talked girl-talk. Sarah asked veiled questions about what was going on with Jessica, but when Jessica was evasive, the blonde just told her she’d be there if she needed to talk about it, and that was that. She didn’t press, didn’t let Jessica’s reluctance to share her secret come between them. They talked about other things until Sarah said goodnight and returned to her own room.

The next morning Jessica didn’t even make it to rehearsal before her summons came. She had just crossed the pebbled roof and stepped through the door onto the darkened catwalk when she heard that familiar whisper from behind her.

“Jessica.”

She froze, a shudder of fear shooting through her. The catwalk was extensive, and continued along the wall in both directions, disappearing into the shadows and giving access to who-knew-what. She had only ever used the brief portion between the door to the roof and the stairs down to the backstage. The Whisperer’s voice had come from the dark corner beyond that portion. She stood where she was, locked in fear and indecision. Last time she had refused to go to him, he had taken her anyway. She had no confdence that she could escape him, and resistance only seemed to make him angry. If she could only make herself turn around and go to him willingly, he might be less cruel to her. If only she could go willingly… but she couldn’t. Her pride simply wouldn’t let her do it.

“Jessica, come to me,” he whispered.

Slowly, she turned her head and looked behind her. She could see him, standing in the shadows some thirty feet down the catwalk, a dramatic fgure in a faring cape and feathered hat. The stairs down to the backstage were only a few steps away. If she bolted, she could make it partway down that long fight of steps before he could get to the top step. She was agile and feet of foot, and much lighter than he was. Surely she could get down those stairs before he could overtake her!

She sprang forward like an arrow from a bow, hitting the stairs running. She took the steps three at a time, her sneakered feet fying. When she glanced over her shoulder, the Whisperer had moved only a few steps forward and was standing on the catwalk watching her fee. Still she ran down the steps as fast as she could. Her fear reluctantly gave way to hesitant elation. She was escaping! He might be able to capture her again later, but for the moment, she had thwarted him! She reached the ancient wooden foor of the shadow-haunted backstage and ran for the bar of light that streamed between the partially-opened stage curtains. She was almost there, almost out of the shadows where the Whisperer ruled and into the light of the theater’s stage!

A loud whoosh of air and fapping of fabric suddenly flled her ears, so close behind her that she stumbled and fell to the foor with a terrifed shriek. The sound seemed to pass over her in the darkness and recede somewhere in front of her. She lifted her head and stared forward, but could see nothing. Visions of the Whisperer turning into a giant bat like some movie vampire flled her imagination as she rose to her feet. She was so close to the light! So close to freedom! As she stumbled forward, suddenly a vision appeared before her that she would never forget.

The Whisperer few through the air toward her at appalling speed, visible for only a fraction of a second as he passed through a bar of dim light. He was swinging on a thick rope, his cape fapping madly behind him. An instant later he struck her, slamming into her with his entire body at tremendous speed, knocking the breath from her lungs before she could even begin to scream. She was swept from her feet, captured by an encircling arm that clutched her painfully tight. She felt herself swinging through the air and spinning at the same time, vertigo stealing away any sense of up or down, dim, half-seen shapes fying past her. Then, somehow, she was being carried across the foor as her captor ran through the shadows, though when they had landed she couldn’t tell. He held her with both arms now, clutched close to his body, her feet kicking vainly out to one side. “Jessica?” called an excited voice. It was David! He had heard her scream as she’d fallen to the foor! He was coming to save her!

Suddenly her abductor spun and thrust his back to a wall. She was manhandled into a vertical position, her feet fnding the foor. A thick, gloved hand covered her mouth, and the Whisperer’s voice spoke quietly but fercely into her ear.

“Be absolutely still! If your little friend discovers us, I shall have to hurt him. Perhaps even kill him! Don’t make me do it, Jessica!”