The Devil of Black Creek (F/M)

[FearHaven]

A fictional story, written in first person.

My name is Sam, and this is my story. The story of how I was captured and made to witness horrendous things. Things that no person should have to endure. At the hands of an exceptionally unsuspecting woman none the less.

This is not a dark romance.... Though from a certain standpoint it could be viewed that way. I don't know anymore. All I can say I can for sure is that it was really fucked up, and I'm here to explain how it all happened.

It started in a pub, in the small rural town of Black Creek.

This woman sitting next to me at the bar was on my last nerve. Just another drunk pushing her infinite wisdom upon me.

"So anyway, you should never, and I mean never bring home a guy who you've just met. Wait, are you gay?"

"Please stop talking to me," I exclaimed.

The woman glared at me and screwed up her nose as she left her bar stool. Finally, I though. I can get some peace.

I sat there as I watched the clock. The large hand made of old iron was just a minute away from striking midnight. I was there for too long already and I was starting to get the urge to leave myself. I'm not a big drinker. The only reason I was there is because my ex just cheated on me, and she wasn't the first person to do this either.

Why do I even bother? I thought, as I looked down at the whisky sitting in the bottom of my glass.

I raised my glass, ready to down what was left, when another woman came and sat next to me. This one was much older than I was, at least 40 with a curvy body, dark red hair and a slightly alternative appearance. Her crimson lipstick and black eye liner was simply captivating.

"Rough night?" She asked

Her voice was a little raspy and her eyes were a beautiful dark brown.

"You don't know the half of it," I replied.

"No, I don't. So why don't you enlighten me? Sad boy."

"My girlfriend of 6 months just cheated on me, my car decided to break down, and my feet hurt from walking here".

"Well look at the bright side, you're still young. What are you? 25? 26?"

"I'm 23," I said.

"Even better. You have your whole life ahead of you."

"What life? I'm single, broke, without a car, and I have a pair of shitty boots that aren't even real leather."

"You like to complain a lot don't you? I'm sure a handsome young man like yourself could go places if you only knew how."

I'm handsome? I thought to myself. Nobody has ever called me that before. Maybe she likes my blonde hair? What does this woman want?

"And tell me mysterious lady, how exactly is that?" I asked.

"Let me buy you a drink, and I'll tell you," she said, while looking back at me with those alluring dark eyes.

"Okay sure," I replied.

She bought me another glass of whiskey, and we sat there talking for what felt like 2 hours. She didn't seem like any other woman I had met before. She was mature with a very open mind. She saw the world in various shades of grey, as opposed to black and white, and she always had something constructive to say.

I genuinely thought she was attractive, in all aspects. Her dark, semi-gothic style, her intelligence, and her subtly sexy tone of voice when speaking to me.

When the bar tender announced "last call" I said to her, "Well it's been a pleasure knowing ya, but I'd better go."

I sounded rude, but I was drunk, and I didn't wish to go home to the shit storm of drama that awaited me there. But I had to go.

"You can't walk home drunk, surely. Let me give you a lift," she said.

"Nah I'm good thanks," I said as I stood up and walked away from the bar."

She didn't say anything, as I walked out.

I pushed open the front door and started walking in the direction that I assumed was the right way. After about 15 minutes of walking down a dark highway my right boot spilt open at the seems, and it started to rain.

Fan-fucking-tastic, I thought to myself.

Suddenly the asphalt on the road ahead of me lit up as a car was approaching me from behind. It slowly came to a stop as the driver rolled down the window to speak with me me.

It was her, the woman from the bar.

"Still don't want a lift?" She asked.

I grabbed the passenger door handle and climbed inside the car. It was nice and warm, dry and had a pleasant smell of strawberries in the cabin.

"Thank you," I said as I buckled my seatbelt.

"It's my pleasure. I'm Roslyn by the way."

"I'm Sam."

"Where do you live Sam?"

"About 10 kilometres way, in a shitty village," I replied.

"Well its a good thing I picked you up then. You walked a fair way to get here."

"Yeah, well, I had no other choice."

"Are you going home to your ex?"

"Unfortunately yes," I said with an unimpressed tone.

At that moment she placed her hand on mine and said, "Would you like to come and crash at my place instead?"

I smiled and nodded my head as I said, "That would be great, thank you."

At the time I didn't think anything of it. She seemed like a really decent person, and I had no doubt in my mind that spending the night with her would be much more joyful than the alternative.

I was in grave danger however.

As we continued down the highway she turned on the radio. Her long black fingernails reached for the large centre button on the dial, before a rustic sounding tune started to play.

"What is this song?" I asked, with a curious tone.

"Black Creek," she replied.

"Huh, fitting," I said.

She smiled, "You have no idea".

Before long I fell asleep as I was too drunk to stay focused anymore. However I distinctly remember that rustic guitar, gently playing as I started to drift away. Everything around me slowly fading into darkness.

The next morning, I awoke in a single bed with a soft purple blanket wrapped around me. My head was absolutely killing me from drinking the night before, and It took a few seconds to remember where I was.

I sat up in the bed and something solid tugged at my ankle. It was a steel chain. The bitch chained me to the bed while I sleeping!

What the fuck is this? I thought as my heart began to race. Is she into bondage or what?

"Hey!" I shouted.

Silence filled the house.

"Hey, what's going on?" I shouted again. When suddenly she appeared in the doorway.

"Shush, your making a racket," she said as she stared across the room with a semi-serious tone in her voice, and look on her face.

"Why is my foot chained?" I asked.

"Oh you don't remember?"

"No."

"I had to help you inside last night. You couldn't even walk by yourself. I put you in this bed and chained your ankle to stop you from making any stupid decisions."

The look on my face must have been dumb founded when she said this. Who the fuck chains up their guests? I thought to myself.

"Well thanks I guess, but you can let me out now," I said.

"Here's the thing Sam. You're not going anywhere. In fact you are going to sit here and listen to everything I have to say."

"Are you fucking high?" I exclaimed.

Roslyn then pulled out a large kitchen knife from behind her back, and started to casually advance towards me.

"Don't bother fighting me. Or else you'll never get the key to your lock, and you will starve to death in this bed. You are a long way from anywhere right now. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," I replied without hesitation. Knives scare the shit out of me.

She then sat on the bed next to me and press the tip of the blade into my chest. Not hard enough to pierce the skin, but certainly enough to get my attention.

Then she started to speak again.

"I was watching you talk to that drunk girl in the bar. I was sitting over by the window, watching you for a while. You're a very rude little boy."

"You were watching me?!"

She pressed the knife in harder, "Do not interrupt me when I'm speaking!"

At that point I didn't say a word back.

She continued, "You are very rude, and I don't care for people like you. In fact I actively seek out assholes just to have fun with. So if you try anything stupid, you will never see the light of day again."

"Yes Ma'am, I'm sorry Ma'am."

She then reached under the bed and pulled out 4 leather straps, a diaper and a large ball gag. Next thing I knew, I was being restrained to the bed with the leather straps, one limb at a time until they were all fastened down tightly.

"Unlike your boots, these are made from real leather," she remarked.

Once I was secured to the bed she cut off my shirt and jeans with a pair of scissors, before slipping the diaper under me and doing it up.

"Open wide," she said as she held the large black rubber gag in front of my mouth.

I did as I was told, and she buckled the gag around my head tightly. The ball pushed my jaw open and prevented me from speaking any further.

"Now that your all tied up, I think I'll leave you here for a while to think about your attitude."

I shook my head in protest and tried pleading with her. But it was no use. The gag simply didn't allow me to make any sort of intelligible noises. She simply ignored me and proceeded to leave the room. The last thing I saw was her curvy backside walking away from me, before she closed the bedroom door.

Oh my god, I thought to myself. I've just been kidnapped. Holly fuck! What is she going to do with me? And how long will it take before anyone notices I'm gone?

She was seen with me at the bar. They have us on CCTV footage, surely. But wait a minute, I left the bar before she did. I wonder if this was her plan all along. Nobody saw me getting into her car. There was nobody around.

Fuck!

I tested the leather straps by yanking on them as hard as I could, but it was no use. She did a proper job at restraining me and I couldn’t move very much as a result. My arms were by my sides about a foot away from my body, with my wrists strapped directly to the sides of the bed frame underneath. It was the same setup with my ankles as well. I was stuck on my back like a mental patient.

Despite my futile attempts to free myself, I tried again, and again, and again. Until I started to fatigue my arms and legs. It was hopeless. After giving up I laid there staring at the ceiling. Wondering if I was ever going to get out of here, or whether she would kill me.

Hours passed by and eventually I felt the urge to pee. I haven't urinated since waking up, and as you can imagine the morning urge was now upon me, and well overdue. Maybe this why she diapered me, I thought. Or maybe she did it just to humiliate me. Either way it seemed like my only option, though I tried holding it off for longer.

After some more time had passed I could feel myself well and truly busting to go. So I just gave in and pissed myself. The diaper filled up fast, getting bulkier as I felt my own warmth spilling into it.

It was a horrible feeling. Though on the plus side, my headache had massively subsided which made me feel a little better about something. I needed anything to make me feel better at that point. Any kind of relief.

What seemed like a few more hours passed by, and my jaw was begging to ache from the large gag. My wrists and ankles were also getting sore and the need to move around was overwhelming.

I don't know if I can take this anymore, I thought to myself.

Suddenly my attention was snapped to the sound of a door knob turning, and in walked Roslyn.

"Had enough yet?" She asked in a mocking tone.

I frantically nodded my head and moaned loudly through my gag.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and began running her long, sharp fingernails up my leg. Slowly making her way towards my diaper.

"I see you've pissed yourself," she said as she began to rub my crotch with her hand.

I didn't want to, but I could feel myself growing hard. My dick pressed firmly against the urine soaked wall of the diaper and it felt good. A very wrong sort of good, because my brain was screaming no, while my body was out of my control.

She began rubbing even harder. "Does this turn you on little boy?"

I shook my head violently and moaned in response.

"Do you think I should free your little birdie?"

I nodded my head. I would do anything to remove this bloody diaper and make this stop.

She undid the sticky tabs and pulled the diaper from my body. I let out a sigh of relief when I felt the cool air hit my dick as it came off.

I was wrong to celebrate however, because the next thing I knew she was wrapping rubber bands around my dick! And not just two or three, but at least six of them, very tightly.

All I could do was lay there and watch my shaft turn a light shade of purple as the blood had ceased flowing. I moaned again through my gag in protest, and my reaction was met with a hard slap across the face.

"You're rude! You're are a drunk! And you treat women as if they aren't worthy of your time!" She yelled.

"If you can sit here and take pleasure from me, then you haven't learnt your lesson!" She continued.

She then pulled out a nasty looking whip, which really freaked me out. I started screaming loudly. I started screaming bloody murder as I knew what was coming next. If someone could hear me, anyone, I might be saved. However my screaming was quickly silenced when she shoved a plastic bad over my head, and sealed it around my neck with a draw string.

I started thrashing around in a panic to breathe.

"You can't scream when you can't breathe can you?" She said.

The plastic lining of the bag was being sucked into my mouth every time I tried to inhale, which was terrifying.

Just when I was getting light headed she lifted the bag just above my mouth and allowed me to sharply inhale. Though I only managed to get a few breaths in before the bag came down again.

If that wasn't bad enough, I suddenly heard a flicking noise, swiftly followed by a very sharp and painful bite on my dick.

It was the whip.

I screamed, but there was nothing. Only silence.

Roslyn threw the whip again, and this time struck me right on the tip.

I thrashed around violently against the restraints but couldn't move very far. I screamed once again, but couldn't make a sound. The pain was absolutely off this planet.

A third flick of the whip soon followed and my reaction was the same. An extremely violent outburst that could barely be registered.

After the third strike I started to feel very light headed, and my vision filled with little white pricks in every direction. I then passed out.

When I gained consciousness, the bag had been lifted from my head but the rubber bands were still strangling my dick. Roslyn sat there beside me, gently stroking my bare chest with her finger nails.

"I'm going to remove your gag now, and if you scream, I'll bag you again. This time it wont be coming off. Understand?"

I nodded my head as tears began to roll down my cheeks. My body was shaking a little and my jaw was very sore. When she removed the gag I felt a rush of relief wash over me. Please let this be the end of it, I thought.

"Please no more, I beg of you," I said to her as my voice trembled with fear.

"Haha you beg of me?" She laughed.

"Are you going to beg for me like a dog?"

"Yes Ma'am, whatever you want Ma'am," I replied.

She then looked at me with her head tilted to the side slightly as she held a smirk on her face. Then she removed the rubber bands from my cock, and the straps from my limbs before saying, "Get on the floor then".

I did as I was instructed and assumed a kneeling position on floor, while she remained sitting on the bed, with her shiny black boots planted on the carpet. The chain around my ankle gave me just enough leeway to get down on all fours in front of her.

"You know for a little asshole, you can be surprisingly obedient," she said.

She then paused, while looking down at me.

"Now beg for me. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, like all the others."

I started begging. I started begging like my life depended on it, because in that moment it did.

"I'm sorry, I was an asshole, I was pathetic, I was a jerk to those who just wanted to talk with me. I was in a depressed state and I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to die last night and I didn't mean to come across so negatively. I'm sorry, I'm a loser and a failure."

When I stopped begging silence filled the room. My heart began racing once more as she picked up the knife and shoved the pointy end against my throat. I could feel the sweat start to run down down my forehead from the sheer anxiety of it all.

"And why did your girlfriend cheat on you? Did you yell at her, beat her perhaps?" Roslyn asked.

"No Ma'am, never. I would never do something like that," I hastily replied.

She pressed the knife further against my throat to a point where it was about to break the skin.

"So tell me why. No bullshit or ill finish you off right here and now."

"She cheated on me because I threw out her stash of heroin. She's an addict that desperately needs help. It all seemed okay in the beginning, but after months of increased usage it became a serious problem. I tried to help her, but she went to another guy to get her fix, and slept with him while she was there. I didn’t want any of this."

The stern expression on Roslyn's face sudden lifted as she withdrew the knife from my throat. Then she started to speak again, this time in a softer tone.

"So you were having a bad night and suffering with depression, because you got your heart broken by trying to do the right thing?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Roslyn suddenly threw the knife across the room and out the doorway, before getting up and leaving. Absolutely nothing was said, she simply got up and left.

What was that about? I though to myself, as I sat on the floor, deeply confused. I couldn't leave the room of course because I still had a chain locked around my ankle.

The shade covering the small window grew darker and darker as the sun was going down. A few hours had passed since Roslyn got up and left. I was starting to think she left me here for the night, when she suddenly returned.

"Sam," she said.

"I'm sorry Sam. I have mistaken you."

I gave her a confused look. "Mistaken me?" I repeated back to her.

"I thought you were an asshole, like a genuine piece of shit, like all the other guys I bring here. But you're not. You were just in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong attitude."

"Does this mean you'll let me go?" I asked.

"No," she replied.

She continued, "I'm sorry I can't do that. You must understand that it would put me at risk."

Fuck, I thought.

"Are you going to kill me then?"

"No," she said. "I don't have the heart to kill someone undeserving of death. However I will keep you here, as my pet perhaps."

Roslyn then left the room again to go and retrieve an empty bucket, a bottle of water, and a plate of chips.

When she returned she placed the bucket on the floor and the water and food at my bedside.

"I need more time to think about this. Here's a bucket you can piss in, and some supplies to get you through the night," she said before leaving and closing the door.

The room went completely dark, and I was left there to think about everything in solitude. Throughout the night I constantly thought about how to make my escape. I questioned what life would be like with her if I couldn’t escape, and I feared what she might do if she caught me trying to run.

My story of captivity is far too long for me to tell you everything. But what I can tell you is that she made every possible effort to prevent me from being free. There were a few times I tried my luck. Such as the time I picked up the house phone and she spotted me trying to make a call. The damn phone wasn't even plugged in, but I was punished for it nevertheless.

Every time I tried something daring I was caught out and punished. I was whipped, caned, electrocuted and beaten fiercely with a leather belt.

Eventually it got to the point where I just gave up and accepted my fate. Over time I started growing affection for her, perhaps even falling in love with her.

I was her captive, sure. But she also cared for me, looked after me, and disciplined me whenever I did something wrong. I started to feel small, almost like a child who was completely dependent upon her.

I guess after a while you start to see things from a different perspective, and maybe that's the Stockholm syndrome talking, but I couldn’t help it. I simply became a moth her to flame.

There we're times that still freaked me out, and snapped my brain back to reality. Such as the time she instructed me fetch some supplies from the concrete bunker in the back paddock. There were human like shapes hanging upside from the ceiling in black trash bags. I knew what they were, and the smell was unbearable, but I dare not talk about it here.

There were also times where I was made to listen as Roslyn tortured and killed new captives of hers. I would sit there in my room, with my purple comfort blanket as I heard their screams echo through the house.

You never forget what that sounds like.

She would occasionally force herself onto me in a sexual way as well. Whether I was in the mood or not. It obviously didn't matter as much to her because I was her play thing. So many nights I spent tied to a bed with her weight pressing down on me, as she rode me, choked me and smothered me into oblivion.

I was her captive for about 2 years in total. Until the day came when Roslyn disappeared.

Detectives had finally gathered enough evidence to put her away for life. When they came to arrest her at the house, she was out in the barn. Upon seeing the lights and sirens, she took off in her deceased fathers old muscle car. I still remember the shiny black paint and roaring V8 engine as she took off like a bat out of hell.

She was never seen again.

[LunaDog]

This was utterly different and absolutely magnificent. A real pleasure to read.

[FearHaven]

@LunaDog
Thanks for the feedback, I'm glad you liked it. I was woried that it might be too dark for tugstories.

[LunaDog]

Well it might be a little too dark for some, but i'm not one of them!