A Harsh Betrayal

A Harsh Betrayal
Willow cringed as a white brilliance of light blinded her eyes. She was on her back. Her arms and legs splayed wide on a bed swathed in white linen tucked deep under the mattress. Thick, heavy and ancient white metal cuffs secured her wrists and ankles.
“Help,” she whimpered, to which only her echo replied. She licked her lips with a dry tongue. It had been at least a day since she’d had water and the skin had already dried into burning calluses.
She was alone, naked and scared. Willow tugged on her restraints. Her grunts of struggle bounced off the walls of her prison.
“Please, somebody, anybody, help me.” Her cries echoed around her as tears poured down her face. The white light above slowly faded into darkness. Warming blue rays radiated from the floor. She watched the darkness above begin to fill with small beads of light, while the bed began to spin.
She felt metal dig into her soft skin. It was cool to the touch. Sharp. It made her vulnerable. “Let me free,” she bellowed, and then stopped when she felt something stir beneath her back.
The touch was soft, a sensual pulse and it seemingly disappeared as she struggled to stretch her neck and see what the object was. Twisting and turning, she contorted her body in hopes of seeing whatever it was that touched her body. But a simple glance upward abruptly topped her.
A single star captured her attention. She stared into its core; a mass of swirling colorful lights spinning and flying through its center. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. She felt genuine joy as the colorful lights morphed into a tranquil sea of red and blue. For a moment, just a moment, she’d forgotten her predicament.
The joy she experienced transformed into something far more erotic. Goosebumps peppered her skin and a familiar spark blazed within her core. It stemmed from the light and its chaotic, yet organized trail of lights. The longer she gazed the more vulnerable she became. Willow felt the muscles in her body relax. Her shoulders. Her lower back. The muscular hamstrings, all the way down to the toes. A sigh of contentment fall from between her lips.
Then something moved on the bed.
She lifted her head as the sensation ran down her back. It paused at the base of her buttocks, just below the twin dimples. Caressed her pliable and generously soft skin before traveling between her thighs. Willow watched the slow moving extremity snake its way toward her. It stopped mere inches from her lower lips.
“Wha-wha-what are you?” she said as her voice continued to echo in the room. The light beckoned to her, but her fear superseded the lust growing inside her gut.
The bed was agitated once more and she caught sight of a mound bubbling to her right. Another took shape to her left. Swiftly, the two flowed beneath the sheets. Their move was slow and predictable, stopping near her breasts.
“What the fu-?” her words lodged in her throat as a lone finger on the first hand tenderly caressed the edges of her folds. Another finger drew long lazy circles upon her throbbing pearl.
The desire sparked by the light resurfaced and her head fell back as waves of pleasure washed over her. “What is happening to me,” she moaned as a pair of hands massaged her back, while additional hands tantalized her breasts. Her eyes fell closed when that same hand slipped two soft fingers between the folds hidden by her legs.
A blissful sigh drifted from between her lips as an inevitable explosion began to swell within her core. The cuffs disappeared from around her wrists and ankles, but her body stayed in the same position as the hands worked together to take her over the edges of pleasure. Soon her flowing hips and the thrusting fingers found a perfect rhythm before a sudden and loud bang shattered her bliss.
She had to stifle a scream when her eyes snapped open to reveal the little girl floating over her with a finger to her lips.
Shhh, the sound gentle and quiet, hushed Willow. The naivety of the ethereal sound found its way around her as Willow fully awakened. She was no longer in a bed. There was no brilliant light streaming down on her. She was not being pleasured by mysterious hands. She was lying on the cold dark floor of a makeshift cell. She tried to move, but felt the same restraints on her as the ones in her dream.
“What the…” the child shushed her again as another loud boom sounded above Willow’s head.
“Were those gunshots?”
The spirit of the child nodded and pointed at her left arm. She tugged on the left shackle and it slid free. Willow tugged on her right arm, but it remained steadfast as the child gestured to the door.
“How?” Willow asked as a pair of gunshots sounded again, followed by the sound of someone running.
Willow pulled on the chains as the child faded from sight.
“Wait,” Willow cried as a door opened and footfalls could be heard coming down a set of stairs. Her heart began to race, anxiety catching hold of her, as she balled her hand around the manacle.
“So you’re awake.” Willow recognized Lenora’s voice even in the darkness. Confident, bold, venomous.
The door opened and Willow could just make out the sound of another woman’s bare feet on the stone. The woman, Bridgette, stopped in the doorway and folded her arms. “You dream good sugar?”
“Let me go,” Willow demanded. She gripped the shackle in her hand as an idea began to blossom in her head.
“No.”
“Why do you have me here? What have I done to you?”
Lenora strode confidently into the cell and kneeled down next to Willow. “Cause you look good in chains,” she replied matter of factly. A wide smile, thin and dangerously attractive paused on her lips.
“So do you bitch,” Willow swung the shackle at Lenora’s head. Lenora cried out and fell to the floor. Willow raised her hand again, but Lenora kicked her arm. She scrambled on top of Willow and delivered two sharp blows that left Willow paused and dizzy.
Lenora wrestled the shackle from Willow’s failing grasp. “I don’t think you thought your little plan through, darling.”
Willow tried to talk, but Lenora held her face in a vice-like grip. “What could you possibly want to say?”
Willow twisted and struck Lenora’s side with a sharp knee. Lenora cried out and tumbled to the floor. Willow kicked at her face and watched as her eyes rolled up into her head. She wrenched the rope from around Lenora’s neck and brought the key to her remaining cuff and twisted it.
Lenora groaned behind her as she finally managed to release her lock. Willow scrambled and tugged Lenora’s semi-conscious body closer to the shackles. She fastened them around Lenora’s her soft wrists.
Lenora‘s eyes opened and she started to cry out when Willow ripped a piece of her dress off and stuffed it down the woman’s throat.
“Fuck you,” Willow punched Lenora in the face and then raced out the cell. She was quick to close and lock the door behind her. She took the stairs two at a time as Lenora’s muffled shots rang out behind her. Where did Bridgette go? She wondered knowing she’d heard her voice.
Willow slammed the heavy door to the basement shut and suddenly found her answer. She ran into Bridgette. The two women stared at one another for a moment before Willow slapped Bridgette against the side of the face. She followed the blow with a swift kick to Bridgette’s tout belly. The striking beauty fell backward as Willow headed to the front door.
“Stop!” Willow heard Jackson yell from the second floor as she yanked the front door open. He started down the stairs, and she slammed the door shut. She paused and saw his pickup truck still running in the driveway. She jumped down a set of stairs and leaped into the open driver’s door. She slid the car into drive as Jackson jumped down from the top of the stairs and into the truck bed. She hit the brakes and he slammed head first into the back window. She accelerated and he tumbled from the back and flipped over the tailgate as she sped off into the swamp.
Bridgette ran over to Jackson who was slowly standing up. “We can go get her,” he said as he dusted himself off.
“We have bigger problems,” Bridgette replied. “Junior Gattis and his buddy got free.”
“We need to get them before the Gastineau’s do.” Jackson said as he brushed himself off and watched his truck toss up mud in its escape.
“Why?” she asked.
“Well,” he said slowly. “I promised them and you to Antoine for a cool hundred thousand.”
“What?” Bridgette laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
Jackson shrugged “No,” he replied and punched Bridgette in the face. She collapsed, her nose likely broken in the blow.