With today being the anniversary of 9/11 I thought of what I was doing on this day, that awful morning.
As I lay here in my bed, it hit me that I’ve allowed the attack to continue to bother me and it, in turn, has affected those around me, especially my children.
I was driving down Speer Blvd. on my way to work in my van, listening to the morning talk show. It was a beautiful day, sun shining, birds singing and I’d just left my toddler son with my brother to babysit while I worked. At the crossroads of Lincoln and Speer, the DJs started talking about the Twin towers being hit by a plane and I remember getting mad, yelling at the radio “That’s not fucking funny, assholes” and turning off the radio. I drove the rest of the way to work in silence.
When I got to work, I entered with my usual, chipper good mornings and went to the break room to get some coffee. There were more people in there than I’d ever seen this morning and I commented as such, as I filled my cup. Noone was talking but I heard in the background those awful words “The tower is coming down!”
I looked at the television and sort of went numb. This couldn’t be happening… not here… not now…
I barely remember going into the staff room to get my route. I don’t remember if I even mapped it out. I just remember being in my truck, going through the motions. Every house I stopped at had the news on and it was giving updates. The second tower was down when I stopped at one home, their door was wide open and I heard a woman weeping. Her elderly husband was by the door, tears in his eyes as I said “good morning” He looked at me sadly and shook his head “No… no it isn’t…” I wrapped my arms around his frail shoulders and he wept on my shoulder saying “I never thought I’d live to see this day again… I was at Pearl… this can’t be happening again, no, please tell me this is a dream” I held him for a while, trying to console him but I didn’t know what to say. I was still numb.
When I left him, standing by his flagpole, I saw him lower it to half mast. I got into my truck and started to carry on with my day. I drove, maybe, a half block before the tears started. I could see the flag at half staff and I couldn’t stop crying.
When my boss called to see what was wrong, he told me someone had called in and he was concerned. I told him I was coming back in, that I couldn’t do this today, I needed to go home. He was nice and actually called everyone else back in too. Pickups were cancelled for the rest of the day and the next.
The drive back home was surreal. Cars seemed to be moving slower and more and more I saw the Flag waved from cars and buildings. When I got home, I took my son in my arms and sobbed. My brother, who hadn’t been watching television all day, asked me what happened. When I told him he looked at me, dumbfounded. He whispered something then raced to the television and turned on the news. All he and I could talk about was our little brother who had graduated from boot camp only a year before. Luckily, he was not deploy-able because he was a guard at one of the military prisons but, at the time we didn’t know.
The next day I took my son outside and after a while, he asked where the “ah pains” were. That was his way of saying airplanes. I told him that all the airplanes were sleeping today because they were really tired from flying all the time. He nodded and smiled “Them needs a day off, like mama!” he hugged me tight and ran off to play on the slide.
That next week is kind of a blur for me. I know I went to work and did mommy things but…. they were almost robotic. Then came the day I heard the airplane, flying low. I’d heard that sound only once before and it terrified me. I was halfway between my truck and the home I was to pick up at and dove for the shrubs by the front door. I looked out and saw the biggest airplane I’d ever seen flying low, seeming to crawl across the sky. It had a disc I had never seen before on the top and it scared me so bad that, when he got home, the homeowner found me sobbing behind his bushes.
PTSD sucks. I’ve suffered from it most of my adult life but NEVER like I did after 9/11. It’s taken years to be able to leave my house without a Xanax or three under my belt. Sometimes I hear an airplane today and feel myself start to panic. My children know about 9/11 but they, I hope, will never feel the terror I felt, halfway across the country from New York. There are theories that our government was involved, that those aboard the planes were plants of our own people but, for me, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone destroyed my comfort and my ability to feel safe. The actions in Aurora Colorado, just 20 miles from me reinforced that. Columbine happened while I was a school bus driver only one district away. It makes me truly wonder if anyone is truly safe anywhere.
Especially after the life I’ve led.
A week after I snapped, I am allowed to leave the cage and bathe properly. I’ve developed a heat rash under my breasts and they need to be washed often so he’s decided to let me wander the basement. It has a bathroom with a shower, a small kitchen and his play room. I have free usage of the kitchen and he keeps it well stocked. I make dinner for the two of us when he comes. Afterward he wants to, as he says, work on my training.
He trains me often, teaching me the fine line between pleasure and pain. The things that he does to my body would terrify most people. He teaches me to be dependent on him for everything. I hate him yet I know that he’s the reason I’m alive, the air I breath…. He’s all that I am.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since my training began, I only know that I’m thinking of Andy less and less. This frightens me. One night Boss man asks me what I’m thinking as tears flow freely and I tell him I want to go see Andy. He flies into a rage, striking me and ranting that I need to forget him, that I belong to HIM now and that he would kill him if I mentioned him again. I never mentioned him again. That night he did no training. He left, saying I didn’t deserve his touch.
The next morning I’m at his feet, begging him to touch me, beat me, use me. I can’t bear him being mad at me and will do anything to please him. He ties me to one of his teaching devices and teaches me for hours. He goes beyond any amount of pain he’s ever done before. This time, his cane brings blood. The back of my legs and butt cheeks are dripping blood by the time he’s done. He brings out a spray bottle and sprays the cuts. I scream as fire seems to rip into each cut. It’s alcohol and, as he sprays, I faint.
I come to and find him wrapping my upper thighs in bandages. He uses me silently, almost gently. Afterward there’s something wrong, something I can’t name. He doesn’t cuddle, only looking at me as he’s leaving for the night. His words leave me chilled “I’ll be back in three days”
While he’s gone I make up my mind to leave. I try the door and, of course, it’s locked from outside. I wander around the “training”room and find a screwdriver and chisel. I remembered my father taking a door off it’s hinges and figured it couldn’t be that hard. Taking the tools to the door I look up at the jam. I’m in luck….kind of. The upper hinge is very high and I look for something to raise me up that far. Taking the books off the shelf, I stack them and, precariously balanced, I begin the task at hand.
It’s harder than I thought and takes a lot of time. I’m sweating and my legs are shaking when I get the higher hinge out. I step off the books and sit on the steps, drained and shaking all over from the effort. I lean against the door and close my eyes, just for a little rest. I hear a noise from the other side of the door and freeze. Has he come back early?
There are two male voices behind the door but I don’t recognize either of them. I’m scared that they might be friends of Boss Man so I scurry down the stairs and hide in my cage. Please don’t let them find me! Praying hard, I hear the upper door open and one of the men speaking.
“Holy shit bro, come the fuck over here!”
“What did you find…. Hooooo fuck yeah!”
They are just outside my door, in Boss Mans play room!
“What kind of sick fuck lives here?”
“I dunno but I bet he’s got thousands of dollars worth of shit here! Let’s check the other rooms”
“Already checked those, just a bathroom and shit. Look in there”
The door to my room opens and I look up into the face of a boy, around 15 or 16. His mouth is open only slightly wider than his eyes as he sees me in the cage, naked and collared.
“Joe…. comere” His voice almost a whisper.
“What didja find?” Joe says as he comes up behind the young man. “Joe” turns out to be older but, not by much. His jaw drops and they both just stare. It’s so comical that I just HAVE to fuck with their heads. I slip to my knees, thighs wide open, my eyes sparkling with mischief “Have you come to look, Masters, or are you here to fuck a slave?” They look at each other, the younger blushing and the older grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What you think, Dan, you wanna be a virgin all your life?” The elder asks the younger.
“what if we get caught?”
“Master is away for a day… and I’m so horny… Please Master, let me teach you to be a man” This I purr as I slip to my knees and pull myself up by the bars. I can see the bulge in their pants and grin “I’ll even beg Master to fuck me first so you can see how he does it”
The older kid was obviously no virgin and grins wider “oh yeah? Just how’m I sposed to fuck ya if your inna cage?” I grin and push open the cage door, slinking out to stand very close to him, purring “You just asked the right question” I reach for him and he turns, stumbling as he runs from the room, up the stairs and god knows where.
The younger one is still looking at me, now seemingly more relaxed. I walk to him and he’s suddenly all over me, sucking my breasts and grabbing my naked pussy harshly. I’m quickly moaning even with his clumsy pawing. I pull him into the cage and help him out of his pants. His cock not yet fully grown yet standing proudly at attention. I kiss it and pull him atop me, his shaft quickly finding it’s place. It doesn’t last more than a few strokes before he cums, grunting and squealing.
He lays in my arms afterward, shaking and breathing hard, my lips caressing his tenderly. When he can talk, we talk about sex and why I was there. He wants to take me with him and I laugh, kissing him softly “no, sweet prince, I cannot go with you but you will always be my knight in shining armor for you have saved me from the evil tyrant that had enslaved me. Let’s go upstairs so I can get dressed and you can take me to your parents if you wish”
We dress and leave the dungeon I’d been captive in for weeks. Walking into the light, I’m suddenly filled with dread and am finding it difficult to breathe. We walk the few blocks to his parents house and I tell them that he’d heard my cries and came to my rescue. I left out the sex and the fact he was breaking and entering. There are some things parents just don’t need to know. They let me use their phone and I called Andy. He was ecstatic to hear from me and came right away. As we left, I took a moment to speak, privately, with my hero.
“Today you’ve become a man and I want you to think about something. How you found me was a mix of fate and illegal activity. I Hope you think before you break into another house. There’s not always a damsel in distress in every house. Sometimes there’s guns and people who know how to use them. Now is the time to chose which direction you’re going. Choose wisely, my sweet prince”*
*as a side note here, this young man became a police officer, graduating at the top of his class. I’m as proud of him as I would be my own sons!
(NSFW = not safe for work) (ISC = Intense Sexual Content) (PT= possible triggers)
I wake and look around, my eye swollen and painful. I see that he’s been here and left me some food. I must have been in a deep sleep because he’d come into the cage and left a satchel of things by the entrance. I crawl to the satchel and open it, pulling out the items. A hairbrush, hand mirror, some ice packs and a couple of pairs of socks. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, the eye well swollen and purple. I looked like a prize fighter after he’d gone three rounds with a Mac truck. It wasn’t pretty and I wondered if there wasn’t something broken. I break the first ice pack and shake it, feeling the warmth leave the stuff inside and put it on my face.
Crawling one handed to the basket of food, I grunt with each painful jolt. Panting and covered with sweat, I reach inside to find a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple and a thermos of water. There is a note from him as well and I open the folded paper as I start to eat the apple.
My dear sweet slut,
As you lay there sleeping I feel a sadness in my soul. Your face marred thusly saddens me to the point that I doubt you’ll ever forgive me. I know I’ll never forgive myself. I know it was an accident but you’re damaged. What can I do to be forgiven??
I’ve left this small offering for you, in hopes that my Goddess can find it within herself to grant me forgiveness. If not, I may just have to purge myself before her. Perhaps a blood offering would suffice. I shall return soon, my Goddess… I love you.
I throw the apple, screaming “Forgiveness?? You want FORGIVENESS?? Let me out of here you asshole and I’ll show you forgiveness!!” Grabbing the bars, I rant and scream for a bit, till my throat is raw and I’m covered in sweat again. Laying on the cover and pillow, food forgotten, I cry myself to sleep again.
I wake to the smell of food and the metallic sound of the cage door shutting. I turn over, getting up on my elbow and look at him. He smiles at me and asks how I slept. I just glare at him, silently, for his answer. When I speak, my voice is ragged and croaky. I sound only a fourth as bad as I feel. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you know that I could have you arrested when I get out of here? Are you really this stupid?”
He looks hurt for a moment then sighs “I wish you hadn’t said that, my Goddess. I’m afraid you’ll never be able to leave that cage now. Had you accepted this as a game between lovers then I would have released you.” He turns to leave and I cry out “don’t leave me here you fuck!” He turns to me and frowns then quickly walks to the other room, muttering to himself. He returns with something in his hands that I hadn’t seen since the days on the sheep ranch. It emitted a sharp crackle of electricity as he touched the tip to my upper thigh, his face purple with rage “You will NEVER speak to me like that again!”
The next thing I know, I’m on my back in excruciating pain. the leg he’d touched felt lie it was on fire and I’m sobbing hysterically. He’s now in the cage and beating me with his fists, in a rage unlike I’ve ever seen him in. He grabs my hair and slams my head on the floor and everything goes black. I wake to him raping me, biting my shoulder as he ravages me. When he sees I’m awake again, he starts to choke me, his hands tighter around my neck with each grunted stroke. My body erupts under him, my fingernails in his ass cheeks, pulling him into me. I silently scream my release and he removes his hands, grunting his seed into my depths. I scarcely feel my leg anymore, only the pleasure he’s giving me. He lays atop me, breathing hard and murmuring “good girl… good little fuck slut” I whimper, my body still needing him to ravage it. I break down in tears and whimper shamelessly “please, please god please fuck me more!” He chuckles and pulls out, replacing his cock with something cold and hard. I react to the object, opening my thighs wider and thrusting my hips wildly, nails gripping the blanket beneath me tightly. He grins like a madman as he rams the object into me harder and harder, hurting me inside. I am past the point of pain, my body erupting over and over with each thrust. He removes the object and I cry out “More, please Master, fuck me more!!”
I’m out of control, my mind has gone someplace else and I hear my voice that of a wanton whore but I can’t stop. Something has snapped and I’m nothing but sex. He replaces the object with something quite a bit bigger and warm. “God it hurts so good, Yes, YES Master please fuck me!” He shoves hard and I can feel him pushing against my cervix. I scream with pleasure when he moves his fingers, stars spinning in my head as my back arches painfully erupting harder than I’ve ever orgasmed before.
I’m a panting, sobbing, mess, weak and shaking, electric shocks traveling through my body. He pulls out and gets up, leaving me momentarily to get a comforter. He covers me and lays beside me, pulling me into his arms. I lay in his arms, sobbing for a while and then begin to kiss his sweaty skin, tears bathing him with each kiss. I kiss his chin and start to kiss his lips when he growls “you have gained the privilege of kissing my lips, slut.” I whimper and kiss him passionately. After each kiss, my whispers of adoration fill my ears “my master….. my Master… I love you so my master!” To my sane mind, it sounded weird but to my addled mind it was as normal as breathing. He had mastered me and I had lost my ever loving mind!