Chapter 17: Suffocating
Sensual sighs of pleasure and the scintillating sound of skin-slapping-skin greeted Rachel as she crawled her way back to consciousness.
A dark abyss opened up to a blurry vision of a dimly lit room with gray stone walls and a barred door. Despite the darkness and fear swelling within her, it was the mustiness of the air that attracted her attention. It was a familiar smell. One of a decaying Tennessee farmhouse she grew up in. A farmhouse that gave her nightmares. A farmhouse of her childhood that caused a rift when Chase wanted to buy a rural plantation house in Arcadia, Louisiana. It was the dank smell of thriving mildew in an old home. She groaned softly as she wriggled to a seated position atop a smooth but cold surface beneath her back. Rachel lifted her arms but a chain rattled and grazed the floor pinning her arm against her thigh.
“Come baby, come,” she heard Jackson urge.
“Keep fucking me Cherie,” said a vaguely familiar voice.
At first she thought the groan she heard was a side effect of the unseen couples carnal bliss, but a sudden surge of pain nearly blinded her, she groaned again; her agony masked by the unseen couple’s sexual frenzy.
“I’m coming Cherie, I’m coming” the woman screamed. Rachel could make out a visard of euphoria on her face as her joy reached a fervid crescendo. They were only two yards away. Bridgette grasped the bars of a metal door between Rachel and the couple. Rachel could make out Jackson’s handsome face and naked body as he pulled himself from his partner gripping his length, and released himself upon her trembling body, finding the soft divots of her lower back. Pain shot through her head again, and Rachel’s gasp echoed in the room, only awoken by the heavy breathing of Jackson and Bridgette.
“My, my, my,” she heard the woman say. The door’s hinges whined in protest as it was pushed open. A light switch was hit, followed by bright fluorescent lights, which even with her eyes closed sent pain ricocheting throughout her head. She groaned once more, while bare feet walked across the hard floor stopping near her body.
“Looks like your ray of sunshine is a whole lot tougher than she looks,”
Jackson didn’t say a word as Rachel squinted and Bridgette’s pretty features filled her limited view.
“Glad you could join us. Ellie don’t show herself to just anybody. So we figure, you must be somebody special.”
“Wh-where am I?” Confusion, more than her location filled her mind, “Who’s Ellie?”
“Shh, don’t worry about that none,” Bridgette’s voice sounded pleasant.
Rachel again tried to rub her face, but her hands refused to move. “Wha...” she began weakly.
Bridgette stood straight. “Oh the chains. Well, they are there to make sure you appreciate our hospitality. Old slave chains. A hundred and fifty years and they are still as strong. Can’t say enough about good old fashioned craftsmanship. This used to be where slavers would breed their slaves. But don’t you worry none, Chere. We don’t intend to breed you.” Bridgette stepped forward and into the chamber. “It has been some time since these rooms were used, but they still do the trick. Now I’ve got work to do.”
“No, wait,” Rachel cried out as the pain ripped through her skull.
Bridgette leaned in and kissed Rachel’s forehead. “Bye now Chere.” She then backed away.
Rachel heard the door slam shut, and with a mighty effort raised her head to see Bridgette on the better side of metal door, leaning on the bars.
“Relax and get comfortable Cherie,” she said with a wicked laugh.
The light switch was struck again, drowning Rachel into darkness.
“Bridgette please!” Rachel cried as terror raced through her body. “Don’t leave me down here. Don’t leave me alone.”
Rachel could hear the tap of Bridgette’s boots as the woman began walking up the stairs. Somewhere in the chamber water was dripping and splashing on stone. Somewhere else, a draft allowed air to flow into the basement. Then Bridgette laughed, “Oh, Chere, you aren’t the only one down here.