Collateral (Green Hunter and Little Sweet One)

[Green Hunter]

I look over my financial reports again and again, running my thick hands through my long dark-blonde hair in frustration. Looking out my office window at the shop…..my shop, there is a flurry of activity. Guys are building custom made bikes and repairing vintage ones. It’s a beautiful art and skill, but it’s a noisy one. The sound of metal tools clanging, blow torches blazing and a bunch of gruff bikers shouting at each other is usually music to my ears. Not today though. Today I am missing over $100,000.

There is only one explanation and it pains me to think about it. One of my closest friends, Jack, has betrayed me. Even worse, he thought he could get away with it. I’ve looked up to Jack for a long time. He’s been like a father to me, helping me out when I got into trouble when I was younger and keeping the books for my business. I guess he didn’t think I would double check his work. My nerves shot, and tired of the noise spilling into the office, I get up walk to the door and yell out in my deep baritone voice, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” I turn around and slam my door shut. There is dead silence across the floor of the shop.

My employees listen well. It doesn’t hurt that I am an imposing figure, standing at 6’3, 240 lbs, have piercing blue eyes and am one of the leaders of the club. I fit the profile of a typical biker, with the shoulder length hair, constant thick stubble on my face and a few tattoos representing the club that I belong to. Though I am not as involved in the day to day operations as much, I am certainly involved, helping out by hiring the guys coming out of prison to work at my shop, and laundering certain amounts of money when they need it. This is why the missing money is even more of a stab in the back. It’s money that belongs to my club. It’s a personal attack on everything I believe in and he did it within these walls.

Knowing I need to cool off and think clearly I grab my black leather jacket and step outside. The cool chill hitting me hard, I’m glad that I’m wearing my jeans, white sleeves under a black t-shirt and my signature big black boots. I need to think of how I am going to handle this situation. If I have him killed, we won’t get the money back, plus I am not sure if I want him killed. If I kick the shit out of him, he may just call the cops and I still won’t have the money. No I need to think of something else.

That’s when I look in through the window and see you in the front office. Jack begged me to let you work there so I could keep an eye out on you, since he travels so much. It actually has worked out for me. Having a young girl at the front desk greeting customers has legitimized the business and softened those weekend bikers who might have felt intimidated with some ex con with a bunch of tattoos. It didn’t hurt that you are a stunningly beautiful girl. I made it very clear to all of the men there that you were off limits and despite your flirty personality, most of the guys have respected that rule. Those few that didn’t and tried to hit on you…..well they ended up on the wrong side of my fists and steel toed boots.

I can’t believe what I am considering and I am not sure if you are even a part of your dad’s scam, but I need to explore this further. I go back into my office and press the speaker button, connecting me to you at the front desk. “Kim, could you come to my office? I need to talk to you.”

[Little Sweet One]

I am so bored. I stare at all the men working from the window behind me. I adjust my black leather skirt down a bit, and giggle when I think of men staring down my lowcut top. But out of nowhere your voice comes across the rooms, and even from here I can hear it.

I jump and shiver at the sound of it. You are the one biker I do not dare cross. Not only am I 5'1" and 100 pounds soaking wet, you are my boss. Even if you weren't, I wouldn't try it. Your cold blue eyes, and that firm grip I received only once when I slipped and you caught my wrist are definitely incentive to leave you be, as well. I don't want to start having your wrath turned on me.

I wonder just what you could do to me. I have never fought once in my life, and my waist length hair and lack of speed and strength would be very good ways for you to take advantage of me.

It is quiet for a while, and I go back to my daydreaming.

Until something hits me hard. You don't usually curse. You must be very angry, like you get when your men hit on me. Which I can't really figure out why you would. But that is not a topic for exploration.

My hazel eyes become distant once more, as I try to figure out what may have angered you. Tossing my dyed black hair, which greatly contrasts my pale white flesh, over my shoulder, I am about to daydream again when my speaker goes off, causing me to jump.

You need to talk to me. Oh God.

I get up slowly, and go through the door that takes me to a set of stairs leading me to your office. My knee length black leather boots, with their short rubber heels, make no sound as I climb the twenty five stairs. Then I stand waiting at the metal door.

I knock twice and identify myself.

"It's Kim sir," I say, my voice soft as always. "You requested me?"

I wonder what will happen. I bite my lip as I wait for your response telling me to come in. I hope you aren't going to fire me...

[Green Hunter]

“Come in Kim.” I call out to you. When you appear, I am reminded once again of your beauty. It was your idea for your uniform to be as sexy as it was, and I didn’t mind since it was good for business. Men seem to come around more often and when they are here, you seem to have a way of making them feel comfortable and have fun. I have to admit that if I don’t like the looks of a particular guy or someone lingers around too much, I’ll go to the front office and usher them out.

When your leather skirt stretches across your lap as you sit down, I can’t help but be distracted. That and your boots. Who isn’t distracted by a girl wearing boots with a skirt.

I quickly attempt to focus on the task at hand, not wanting my mind to go where it was going. “Kim, I have a couple of questions for you. Do you know anything about some missing money and where is your dad?” I blurt out, getting right to the point.

[Little Sweet One]

I walk in and close the door behind me, sitting down across from you. I bite my lower lip again, thin fingers tapping my knees as I wait.

But you shock me, asking about my dad and missing money. I knew nothing of this, and it shows.

"No, I don't manage the money, dad does, and I think he said he was in Texas working on a business thing. Some deal or the like. Did I do something wrong?" I ask softly.

My big, warm eyes hold your cold ones, and I don't know what you are thinking. My thick black lashes veil my eyes as I look down and force myself to still my hands, then look back at you. You seem so dangerous, I, so fragile.

Don't break me.

[Green Hunter]

“Texas huh?” I contemplate why he would be in Texas or if he really is there. Maybe he lied to you too. Your biting your lip is seductive in a way that is beyond words. I wonder if you have any idea what you are doing. Or are you completely oblivious to the fact that your looks alone could get you any man that you want, but it’s your personality, the little things like biting your lip, that drives men crazy.

“No you didn’t do anything wrong.” I know the number I have for him is useless since he will have turned off his business phone, but I figure he wouldn’t leave you without a way to contact him. “Listen Kim, I know that your dad has a couple of cell phones. I need to borrow your phone so I can call him on his personal one. It’s very important that I speak with him.”

I can see the hesitation on your face. I lie to you, “Don’t worry, I just want to talk with him. I don’t think he is involved either, but I have a couple of questions, ok? So give me your phone..…now!” I remain polite, but end with a somewhat harsh tone, so you get my point.

I continue to let certain scenarios cross my mind. Some are a bit crazy, even for me, but I need to do something about this situation and I will do anything for this club. First thing is first and I need to talk with Jack. I stare coldly at you, attempting to focus on looking stern and serious as I wait for your answer.

[Little Sweet One]

You listen, and I nod. I don't know if dad told me the truth or not, but what can I do?

I am relieved when you say I didn't do anything wrong, confused when you say you need my phone. But you tell me it is important. Was he a thief?

However you say you don't believe so. I jump when you end on a slightly growling note, and reach into my shirt, pulling out the cell phone tucked into my bra.

"Here, sir," I say, getting up, walking over, and handing it to you. Your hand has a slight chill to it as if you went outside. But I go and sit back down, as if I don't notice. I chew on my lip, trying to distract myself. Your cold stare makes me slightly jumpy. I feel like I am in danger somehow.

[Green Hunter]

You look very nervous as you hand me your cell phone. I don’t doubt your innocence in all of this since you give me your phone without hesitation. When you turn around to sit back down, my eyes linger on your firm ass. The leather skirt accentuates it perfectly. I lick my lips and when you look back at me, sitting down, I stare into your eyes.

I can tell that I am making you even more nervous so I look down at your phone and make my way through your contacts list. There it is, ‘Dad Personal Cell’, I click the send button and hold your phone to my ear waiting for your dad to pick up. “Hello……….Kim? Is that you?” He answers obviously having seen the caller ID. Intentionally pausing, I finally answer him. “No Jack, this is Brian. I’m calling from Kim’s phone.” He seems confused and asks why. I get up and walk towards the window, wanting to be out of earshot.

Talking quietly so you can’t hear I ask, “Jack, you didn’t think I’d find out about your transferring funds into an anonymous account not owned by the club? I can’t believe you’d do this to me. Listen, just pay back the money and I promise, things won’t be that bad.” There is silence on the other end of the line. “Jack, you do have the money right?” After another long pause, he finally answers, “N-no I don’t. I got into some trouble and didn’t have a choice. Look, just give me a couple of months and I’ll pay you back.” I lower the phone and stare out the window, angry and frustrated. Putting it back up to my ear I respond “I don’t think so Jack, I am going to need it sooner than that. If the others find out, my hands are tied. They are not going to be as patient as I am. Let me remind you that the only reason I am not slitting your throat right now is because we have history and you’ve done a lot for me. Don’t mistake this kindness for weakness though. I will get my money back, one way or another. Do you understand me?” I can hear his rapid breathing. It sounds like he is panicked. “Brian, I will do everything I can. Just give me as much time as you can.” I look over at you and go back to what I was thinking earlier deciding that it is the only course of action. “Ok, you do what you need to do. But here is the deal. I am due for some time away from this place. Kim is going to be coming with me. I don’t want to have to hurt her, but if you fuck around……well you know what I’m capable of. Do you understand me?” Your dad immediately flips out, “Brian! Don’t you dare! Leave her out of this! Brian….” I hang up on him, cutting off whatever he was about to say next.

I turn around and walk back to my desk where you are still sitting, looking attentive and nervous. “Thanks for letting me use your phone. I am going to hold onto it until the end of the day in case I need to call your father again. Why don’t you just stop by before you head home at the end of the day. I am going to need to discuss something with you then anyhow, ok? That’s all for now, you can go back to work.” I lean back in my chair trying to seem as relaxed as possible, but on the inside my emotions are twisted around each other. I wait for you to respond and walk out so I can get an eyeful of your small, firm ass again. I might as well get some enjoyment out of this situation, I reason with myself.

[Little Sweet One]

I watch as you walk away, and I can't hear you anymore. I grow even more nervous.

You seem to have a heated exchange with my father, and I catch you glancing at me once, and I break out in a cold sweat. I fidget a little, and bite my lip again.

Suddenly, my phone snaps shut and you turn around.

"You're welcome," I say, dropping the hand that had automatically reached out when you say you want to keep it. You tell me to go back to work, and I whine softly. I have no work to do. I finished it. Maybe I could go talk to some of the guys.

You seem tense. You are trying to come off as relaxed, but it isn't working as well as you want. But I pretend it does. You say something that sets me on edge- you want me to talk to you alone, later, with no one here. Why you can't talk with me now makes no sense. We both are unoccupied...

I shiver, but stand up and nod. I walk out and run down the stairs, closing the door behind me. When I get down to my office, one of the bigger bikers, Ben, taps on my window and I let him in.

Ben is big, at 6'1" and 215 lbs, but he is really kind. His shaggy black hair is always in his green eyes, making his hard face have a slightly boyish flair. He always has a goatee in an attempt to look mean, but he is really a gentleman and pushover. At least to me.

"What's wrong Kimmy," he asks me, his rough voice showing only concern. He gently pets my hair, his big hands comforting me, even though they could kill me.

"I think boss is mad at me, that's all. Or my dad. He can get really scary."

"Yes he can, but don't worry, if you were in real trouble, you would know. Don't worry, you always have a friend here, you know that sweetheart." Ben smiled and hugged me. I hugged him back, and he continued to pet my hair.

"I'm just so scared. Dad had to beg for me to be able to work here, and if dad gets fired, what happens to me? I can't get a job, all I can do is draw, act, sing...but no one wants someone so young!"

I hold him tight, but he is much more like a big brother to me than anything else.

"Don't worry, little one," he tells me. "Boss won't hurt you. He doesn't hurt women," Ben said, smiling gently. "But I should get back to work, why don't you draw or somet-where's your cell phone?"

"Boss has it," I mumbled.

"Oh," Ben said. "Will he give it back?"

"Yes," I say, not telling him when. He seems to pick up on that, but says nothing about it and nods.

"Ok," he says, holding me tight for a second and then letting me go. He pets my hair and walks out, and I sit and start drawing. I am shocked at what I draw, and put it away in my desk. I have drawn a woman, terrified, eyes wide and hands holding a wrist-of a man. His hand is around her throat, and he is kissing her, his eyes narrow with lust as he held her around her waist. Her arms were trapped between their bodies. She was tiny, fragile, scared, he was big, strong, and dangerous.

God, what the hell was that supposed to mean?

[Green Hunter]

I do enjoy the view of you leaving. I feel guilty because at 30 years old, you are 12 years younger than me, but it’s hard not to appreciate your figure. I try to concentrate on what I need to do before leaving; filing paperwork, signing checks, checking inventory sheets and a multitude of other things. I see that there’s only a couple of more hours until the guys will start heading home. I’d better go down and tell my second in command that I am leaving so he knows to be ready to run the shop while I’m gone. I walk down the stairs and right when I am about to walk past your window I look inside and there is Ben hugging you and petting your hair. I stay out of sight curious to see where this goes.

When he finally walks out I motion for him to come over to me. “Yeah boss?” I stare at him coldly. “What was that about?” His eyes widen and he stammers. “Wha-wha-what? That was. Huh? What are you talking about boss?” Impatient I shove him up against the wall and pull out my switchblade holding it next to his eye. He is a big guy, but I am bigger and stronger. The muscles in my arms are pulsing supporting his large frame. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking, but if I ever catch you touching or looking at her the wrong way again, I am going to cut your eyes out. Do you understand me?” Ben nods his head vigorously, looking terrified. Deciding that he got the point I let go and put my knife away. Tucked away next to the stairs no one has seen what just happened. “Ok, now go tell Tim that you both will be running the shop for a while. I’m going out of town.” Ben nods again, holding his throat where I had just squeezed him. I begin to walk away and then turn around. “Oh yeah, and find a replacement for Kim. She’s not going to be coming in to work either.” I can see the confusion on his face, but I don’t bother saying anything more.

Finishing up what I need to do, I look at my watch and see that it’s 5:25 pm. Everyone should have left by now, except for you. I wonder why you haven’t come to my office, but am not too concerned. I’ve been looking outside to make sure your car is still in the parking lot. I grab my jacket and tuck your phone away into my jeans. Walking downstairs and into the front office I see that you are working away on a drawing of some sort, though I can’t tell what it is. “Has everyone left already?” I ask, obviously catching you off guard. You respond and I am satisfied from the silence that we are indeed alone. “Good, come with me.” I walk outside and wait for you to follow. When you step outside, I lock the front door.

Alone with you in the parking lot, I think of the best way to say what I’ve been thinking about. “Kim, I’m not going to lie, your dad is in trouble and he has asked me to take you somewhere safe. I will explain everything once we get there, but it’s a bit of drive, so why don’t you ride with me on my bike. Ben will move your car somewhere safe later. We really need to get going” I place my large hand on your lower back and guide you to my bike, not really giving you a chance to say anything. I straddle the seat and then look at you, waiting for you to hop on. “What do you need a helmet?” I ask, trying to keep you from hesitating and thinking things through. Once I have you on my bike, your fate is sealed.

[Little Sweet One]

I am oblivious to what happens to Ben, or I would have told you to stop, that he is in a relationship and doesn't want one with me. That he is like a big brother I never had but always wanted.

Hours pass, and the men start to leave, some ignoring me, some smiling and waving.

"Bye big brother," I call to Ben as he leaves. He smiles, but doesn't hug me as he usually does. His hands form a 2, then a 5, then a 3, my address. He is going to write to me to tell me what happened. I bite my lip and lean my head forward in a nod. I look at my watch. 5:27 pm. I get my jacket on, and remember my drawing.

I get the drawing out, and look at it.

"Has everyone left already?" Your deep baritone materializes and I jump.

"Yes sir." I put the drawing in my pocket and zip my jacket. You tell me to come with you, and I follow, thinking you are going to walk me to my car.

It is slightly cold outside, but I don't really notice as you lock the door.

You tell me my dad is in trouble, and that he wants me somewhere safe. That sends up red flags. You told me earlier that dad wasn't in trouble, now you say he is. And if he was, he wouldn't worry about me, because not many people know about me. I keep to myself, and dad doesn't talk about me.

Ben. Something seemed wrong with him too. Why would he have to move my car? Where are we going? Something's wrong. Terribly wrong. My gut tells me to flee, to get out of here fast. But as I stuff my hand in my jacket pocket for my car keys, they are gone.

Your hand is on my back, and I know something is not right. That I have to get out of here. But how?

You get on your motorcycle, and my eyes are wide with terror. You ask me if I need a helmet, and I shake my head, taking a step back. Your hand reaches out and grips my shoulder gently, almost too gently.

"I...this...this isn't right," I say. But my terror somehow works against me, and I walk forward, maybe under slight, suggestive pulling of your hand. I am terrified, but I don't know what I can do. You lean over and help me onto the bike, and I feel numb. As I try to swing my leg back over to get off the motorcycle, it starts up.

"Where are we going?" I cry over the deafening growl of the motorcyle. I am forced to wrap my arms around your waist, my soft, fragile body pressed against steel muscles.

You have never given me reason to believe you would hurt me, but that doesn't mean anything. So many questions beat at me, but my mouth is frozen and you probably wouldn't answer anyways.

Ben.

Dad.

You.

My car.

My keys.

A safe place for me.

A safe place for my car.

Nothing fits together.

[Green Hunter]

I know you aren’t a dumb girl, so your hesitation doesn’t surprise me. I reach out and place my hand gently on your shoulder, wanting you to feel comforted and reassured, but at the same time to prevent you from walking away. I’m not even surprised when you stutter something about this not being right, so I ignore the comment and gently pull you towards the bike, trying not to be too forceful about it. Little do you know that you are coming with me no matter what, but it would be easier for me if you came along willingly. I am surprised that a smart girl such as yourself allows me to pressure you into walking forward.

Quickly I turn over the powerful engine, my bike roaring to life between our legs. This is no light weight crotch rocket, it’s pure American muscle. Though it’s vintage, I’ve customized it to be a formidable machine. The way I’ve had it painted fits my personality. Black with green Celtic designs symbolizing my Irish heritage and of course the chrome is polished immaculately. It’s a bike to envy for sure. I feel your arms wrap around my waist and your body presses into my back. I can’t help but feel a sense of arousal, never having been this close to you. I usually feel a significant shift in the weight distribution when someone rides on the back, but to my surprise you are so light and petite, I can barely notice a difference.

I open the throttle barely able to hear you ask where we are going. I choose to ignore you, shifting into 2nd and we are on our way. The more I shift, the faster we go and the faster we go the tighter I feel your body press against mine. I almost forgot how good it feels to have a beautiful girl on the back of my bike as I cruise down some of the most beautiful back roads in America. Heading away from the shop, the club and the town in which we reside, the views get better, and the roads more open. I was born to ride like this. I am never happier than when riding my bike on the open road. All my troubles seem to fade away, even if only for a while.

Cruising along we eventually climb higher into the mountains. The air is getting cooler and the views even more spectacular. On some turns you can see for miles, overlooking wide, picturesque valleys. The wind is blowing through my hair and my bike is humming. It takes everything within me not to reach back and squeeze or feel your leg like I used to with my ex fiancé. This continues on for a good 3 hours until we are finally nearing our final destination. The roads are getting a bit steeper, but my bike makes it up without too much of a problem.

Making a final turn up a lonely road, it comes into view. A house….well a cabin really with modern amenities and a view that some would kill for. It belonged to someone that was indebted to the club and we took that house as a form of payment. Technically it belongs to the club, but I am the only one that uses it on a regular basis. Every once in a while we will hide someone up here if necessary, but mostly it stays vacant. In fact there are few in the club that know where it is. Your dad doesn’t even know. Pulling up in front of the large porch, I turn off the engine letting my ears adjust to the silence. There isn’t anyone around for miles. The closest town is an hour away. It is there that I will need to get supplies eventually.

I get off the bike and stretch my legs. “Ok we’re here” I state the obvious. I know you have questions and doubt, so before you start asking anything I say, “Let’s go inside and get out of the cold. I’ll start up the fireplace, we can have a drink and then I’ll explain everything and answer your questions, ok?” I walk toward the front door and pulling out the rarely used key I turn the lock and walk in waiting for you to follow me. I know you will, after all there isn’t anywhere for you to go. I begin to build us a fire and look for the stash of various bottles of liquor I keep up here.

[Little Sweet One]

The ride is so long, that I find myself falling asleep with my arms around you. I miss everything real, but my nightmares make up for that.

I am in a dark room, and I am naked. Someone or something is in the room with me, and I am trying to get away from it.

But the more I run, the weaker I get. I finally give up and fall exhausted.

Onto a bed.

Instantly I am chained down, splayed out and fragile, unable to contest anything.

As a chuckling figure approaches, I recognize it as you. You have on black leather pants and boots, and you are holding a whip and a knife. I choke back a scream as you stab the knife into the mattress and hold the whip up. But it escapes when you snap the whip across my breasts. Over and over you abuse them, then migrate to my stomach. My poor, pale white body is trembling in terror at your violations of me. The whip strikes me just above my appex, and you apparently don't like the choked, strange sound of terror and pain that it creates, as you grip the handle of the whip in both hands and shove it in my mouth sideways, forcing my cheeks back to the point of pain before removing it and throwing it to the floor.

I stare at you with terror and pain emanating from me, but it seems only to excite you as your eyes grow cold with danger and your touch hot with lust.

"No, please, don't touch me," I beg you. But you just chuckle and run your fingertips down my face, through my tears, down my delicate throat, heaving breasts, trembling stomach, and finally you reach my innocence. A dark smile crosses your face as you shove two fingers into my mouth, making me get the hand that will rape me wet.

You pull out your hand and shove them both into my passage, and before I can scream, you slap me with your free hand. Hard. You don't move your hand, just stare at me, and when you do pull your hand out, my fluids and my blood are on your fingers, and once again I get your hand in my mouth. When you pull back however, you slap me again and start climbing up my delicate body, then on your knees you take out your hard, big, long thick cock and stroke it with your rough hand.

You lean over me, braced on your hands and knees, staring into my terrified eyes. You press your weight down until I am completely immobile between you and the bindings, and your position the head against my opening.

It is when you slowly start forcing me to accept you that I wake up to no motorcycle growl and you saying "Ok, we're here."

I brace my hands on the motorcycle, shaking violently. You take my hand and help me from the motorcycle and we go into the house. I fall on the couch in the fetal position, shaking hard, but you will probably presume I am cold. I am right. You start to build a fire. I rub my wrists, still feeling the bindings. But they are also asleep from the strained position.

I turn away from you and face the couch. I want to go home already.

"How long are we staying here?" I ask you, knowing you hear me, as you turn your head in my direction with your lips pursed.

[Green Hunter]

I stare into the fire watching the flames dance as if they were playing. I can feel the heat fighting the cold of the cabin. I hear your question though it’s slightly muffled by the fact that you are facing the couch. Not answering you right away I stand up, grab a bottle of whiskey still staring into the fire. I take a long pull and think of how to tell you what the deal is and your part is in all of this.

“We are going to be here awhile. Like I said, your dad is in some trouble. Not only is he in trouble, but he is in trouble with the club. I’m not going to lie he stole some money. In fact he stole from me.” I can tell you are shocked as you turn to face me still laying on the couch. I continue, “Because we go back a long way I am giving him a chance to pay back the money he stole and redeem himself. As far as you are concerned……well let’s just say you have the misfortune of being his daughter.” I walk over and sit on the table in front of the couch, facing you and take another big drink. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you here as collateral until he comes up with the money.”

I can already feel he affects of the liquor on an empty stomach. I gaze lustfully up and down your body. I start at your boots to your thin legs, up to where they disappear underneath your leather skirt which is concealing your treasure, up to your narrow waist, your flat tummy, your firm breasts, your delicate neck, your supple young lips, to your fearful eyes. Staring deep into those eyes, I take another sip and finally say, “Just think of this us an opportunity for us to really get to know each other.” I reach out and brush a few strands of hair away from your face, pushing them behind your ear, my ice cold fingertips lightly grazing your skin. “Please don’t make this any more difficult of a situation than it has to be. I can tell you right now, if you try to run on me……..I will hurt you. Neither one of us wants that, so just behave and let’s get through this.”

I realize this will is a lot for you to take in, so I am not sure how you will respond to what I’m saying to you. I do know that I need to be firm with you from the beginning so as to make sure you understand how serious the situation is. I grab a glass and pour you a drink. “Here drink this, it’ll calm your nerves.” I get up and lock the front door quietly, putting the key away in my pocket. There is no escaping now. I turn back and face you still on the couch. I feel slightly dizzy from the liquor and the long ride. However I’m able to focus on the fact that you look more gorgeous than ever, the glow of the fire illuminating your soft delicate features. I wait to see if you have any questions, comments or freak out altogether. There’s no telling what your reaction is going to be.

[Little Sweet One]

'I'm not going to lie.' Last time you said those words, you were lying. My head is spinning.

Out of nowhere, you are drinking. It scares me. I process what you said before about dad stealing, me being collateral, and me being unfortunate being his daughter.

I can see your eyes, those cold blue eyes. But is your hand, your cold cold hand, that makes me shiver. I flinch and lean away from your hand. I don't like you sitting so close to me.

Situation? Easier? Behave?! Get to know each other always meant sexual. I don't think I like this.

To add to it, you are getting quickly drunk, and I can see it. You even pour me a drink, which I ignore. I am only eighteen, and don't want to drink.

"Sir, you shouldn't drink so much, you're getting a little different." But you don't listen, instead you lock the door and turn back to me. I sit up slowly, putting my legs down on the floor. My skirt squeaks and my boots make a soft thud, and my clothing shifts as I slowly stand up, trying to avoid you and prevent you from seeing my black satin panties tucked under my skirt.

The fact that my car keys are missing still terrifies me, because I never left my jacket alone. Oh, God. I never had to. You were standing behind me when I was looking at the drawing and I didn't realize it. You must have taken my car keys then, using your voice as a distraction.

If I run, you will hurt me. You are more dangerous than I thought. Will I get out of here alive?

I take off my boots slowly, still not giving you a show, the zipper making a soft metallic sound, the leather shifting and pulling as I take them off and remove my socks since the fire is making the room so warm.

Now unencumbered by the boots, I walk silently around the room, sitting near the fire, avoiding you as much as possible, making sure I can spring up quickly if need be.

"Are you hungry for some food?" I ask specifically so that you cannot take it sexually. I am hungry, that's for sure. I am not the best cook, but maybe I can keep from getting hurt a little while longer. I know not forever, but at least for a little while. Handsome you may be, but also very dangerous, very big, very powerful, and becoming very drunk.

It terrifies me that I can't stop you from drinking because if I try to grab it away I am in arm's reach and if I don't, you will continue. So I try to distract you.

[Green Hunter]

I hear you nervously suggest that I shouldn’t be drinking so much and that I am acting differently. I think of a few responses, but choose to not say anything. There’s no point. I don’t like this situation either. I never expected my life to be like this, hiding up in a cabin, waiting for a supposed ‘friend’ to pay back stolen money while I keep his daughter as leverage.

Your reaction to what I’ve said surprises me. You simply sit up, take off your boots and sit near the fire. When you remove your boots and socks, I watch as your thin calves and girlish feet are revealed to me for the first time. We’ve never been around each other outside of work before, so I’ve never seen you without your boots. As you walk over to the fireplace, I take in the view of your bare legs for the first time. When you sit down you do so awkwardly trying to keep your legs clamped together as if you know that is where my eyes are focused

I drink more and more, a bit insulted that you ignored the glass that I poured for you. I sit down on the couch where you were and drink the glass of whiskey you left behind. I can’t tell what you are thinking, but it’s hard to care either. I am so tired and frustrated.

When you break the silence asking if I’m hungry for some food, I am thankful for the distraction. As drunk as I feel, I figure eating something wouldn’t be a bad idea. “Yeah I’m hungry. There should be some canned food in the cupboards and maybe some meat in the freezer.” It seems as if you are in a hurry when I hear your leather skirt breaking the silence and you get up, walking into the kitchen.

I stare into the fire and grip the bottle tighter. There is no fighting this urge, I want you bad. As wrong as it seems, I want you bad. I need to keep calm, I keep reminding myself. Despite this, I look over my shoulder at your delicate body from behind. I bite my lip noticing how your calf muscles tense with each step, your firm, thin thighs leading to a skirt that hugs your tiny ass perfectly.

I get up and look around the cabin a bit not remembering exactly everything I left behind from last time. I open a couple of the drawers in the utility room and find some rags and bandanas used for wiping off parts of a motorcycle or to wear over the mouth if it’s a particularly dusty day. My mind goes to that dark place and I think about how I could use these to tie you up. All kidding aside I reason with myself that I may need to keep these handy in case you try to escape and need to be restrained. I slip the cloth in my back pocket.

I hear you making noise in the kitchen and I decide to check in on you. “Hey you finding everything ok?” I say walking in as I see you on your tippy toes reaching for something on one of the taller shelves. Your calves are flexed and your skirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a bit more of the back of your thighs, your shirt has lifted as well, showing off your mid section. Seeing this as a unique opportunity I say, “Here let me help” I step behind you and place my left hand on your exposed side, just above your hip to hold you in place. Your skin is warm against my cold hands that can’t seem to warm up after that long ride up here without gloves. I reach up with my right hand, leaning my body into yours, my belt buckle and crotch lightly brushing up against your rear end and lower back. I grab the bowl you were reaching for and place it on the counter in front of you. My face next to your ear I say quietly. “There you go.” You seem frozen and I back away picking up my bottle of liquor taking another drink, leaning against the other counter and watch as you continue to make us something to eat. “I didn’t know you could cook. How did you learn?” I ask, trying to distract you from what just happened. I feel bad for having just copped a feel knowing that I wouldn’t have done that if I was sober, yet I continue to drink and struggle with my inner thoughts.

[Little Sweet One]

It doesn't help me that you don't answer me when I say you shouldn't drink. You seem to want to answer me but you don't, which terrifies me even more. Once again I wonder if you are going to kill me. It doesn't seem so, but in situations like this you can never be too careful.

You seem surprised by something, but I don't know what. I make no sound as I walk around bootless on the hardwood floor and sit down, staring at the dancing flames, mesmerized by them as I always have been. You seem fascinated with me as of late, and I really don't know why.

I flinch when you continue to consume the alcohol, and you even take mine, giving me an excuse not to drink it myself if nothing else. It is sickening me that you are drinking so much and even offering me some. Why? To make me easier to handle, I bet. I am not going to become weaker than I already am against you.

"I think you need to get some sleep," I tell you. "After you eat." I get up quickly upon your approval of food and spirit myself away to the kitchen looking for the canned food. That simply will not do. You must get supplies. I can't eat canned food and frozen meat all the time, and I want milk. That aside, this situation could be severe trouble for me.

Something about you right now just screams danger, and I don't like it. I notice you walking around and instinctively keep some distance between us. That motorcycle closeness isn't happening again. You put something in your pocket, but I don't see what it is and that frightens me. In my reverie, I reach up and try to get a bowl, making soft sounds of disapproval at my height not being sufficient enough to get what I want. I can feel my clothes shifting big time and hope you don't see my struggles.

No luck there. But of course I should expect that by now. You seem to watch everything I do so of course you would see what the hell is wrong.

You ask if I am finding everything ok, and I just keep stretching. You offer help, and before I can move, you have your hand on my bare rib, locking me in place by my terror. Then more fully by your body. I come down from my stretch, your icy hand sending thrills through me that I don't want. But it is your cock, brushing against my lower back because of our height differences, that makes me freeze. It is semi erect, and that terrifies me more than anything that has happened today.

You speaking next to my ear makes me jump slightly and shiver, but I can't seem to move. "I...I taught myself, boss," I tell you. I don't know where this stay is going to lead, but I am becoming more and more terrified that it will be somewhere I don't want it to lead.

I want to take a shower. But with you drunk, that may not be the best so I will wait until you are asleep to do so. I don't want you walking in on me and that turning into holy hell for me. I try so hard to keep calm, but you are just radiating danger with every sip of whiskey you take. I caught the scent of it earlier, and it seemed pretty aged.

"Boss you do know that ethanol, which is the main ingredient in gasoline, is what you are drinking when you drink alcohol? That is very damaging to your liver." I understand that you are thirty years old so your brain has stopped growing-since it stops growing in your middle twenties. But that doesn't mean the alcohol isn't doing its damage to you.

[Green Hunter]

I am shocked and simply glare at you. Where do you get off telling me about the negative effects of alcohol? Even though you call me boss, I don’t feel as if you are showing me enough respect. I bring the bottle up to my lips and locking eyes with you I take a large pull off of the bottle, showing you that I couldn’t give a damn about what you think of me drinking. Smacking my lips I say, “You know what Kim? Why don’t you just finish making us dinner and not worry about what I’m doing. You don’t want to drink with me? Fine, but don’t be a smart ass. It can get you into trouble you don’t want.”

I am steaming mad. I am drunk, pent up and need an outlet. I leave the kitchen not wanting to fly off the handle. I walk outside and fill my lungs with the cool mountain air. I have so much anger and energy and I need to do something before I go crazy. I keep thinking about you, your body, the way you move, how sexy you look in your outfit, and how badly I want to be inside of you. I know there is no way you would be willing to sleep with me. I would have to use a more ‘persuasive technique’. I can’t seem to get you to drink, with the intention of relaxing you of your morals. In other words if I really want to have sex with you, I’m going to have to force myself upon you. I’m going to have to rape you. This is not something that I’ve ever done yet I feel a sense of excitement as I consider the thought. The closest I ever came to this was when I fucked some girl that was passed out drunk in the back the clubhouse bar when I was 20. I’ve done many horrific things in my life, however this was not one of them. I can’t believe that I’m considering it. At same time I feel as if I almost have to do this. Like something within me is pushing me to step into this unfamiliar role.

I am going to hold off for now. I am famished, but after dinner…..I may have to just take my frustration out on you. I walk back in the house and see you busy at work. I stare, wondering what your reaction will be like when you realize what my intentions are. How am I going to do this? Sitting down at the table I call out to you impatiently, “Is dinner about ready? I’m starving.”

[Little Sweet One]

Such sudden rudeness throws me off guard, and a soft gasp escapes me. I blink twice as you take a swig, my eyes veiled, revealed, veiled, revealed my the thick black lashes in my shock.

"No I don't want to drink with you. Especially not of you act like that," I mutter under my breath, turning back to the food. I work quickly, and am almost done when you come back in.

"Hush, stop distracting me, and it will be easier," I tell you. I don't say what I am thinking about how you could get off your drunken ass and make it yourself if I'm not doing it fast enough. I make the food and walk out silently, putting it on the table in front of you, not getting too close, before going back to make my own food. I have noticed changes in you, not only from the alcohol. You seem...colder. More dangerous.

A man tried to attack me once, and he got seriously hurt. My anger, my adrenaline, my fear helped me survive that night. But that experience taught me to watch for warning signs, and you are exibiting a few. Increased agitation, trying to keep away from me while staring at me, as if watching for an opening, giving yourself space for momentum. I bite my lip and eat, watching you as I stay by the counter.

My hazel eyes glow in the light of the fire, but they look warm in comparison to your icy gaze. Everything about you has grown so cold. I shiver. I want out of here, but I remember what you said about hurting me. Not like you won't anyways. I don't want to give you reason to hurt me, however, so I stay out of your way. You seem rather hungry, but I am not sure if I should ask if you want more or not. I bite my lip and finish eating, rinsing it all down with a drink of water.

You were so kind when you brought me here, but the alcohol has changed you. Your words still haunt me, and they have an odd sting to them. As if you don't care. Shouldn't matter to me, but hell, I guess I just want people to like me. But more importantly, I don't want to get hurt.

[Green Hunter]

The food is good, but I don’t really focus on it. All I can think of is how badly I want you. I am growing crazy at how strongly I’m drawn to your innocence. My blood is pumping faster as I have mentally committed to what I am about to do to you. I just have to think of how it is going to go down. I don’t want to simply jump you. I want to play on your fears first. It’s as if I took on the mentality of a hunter not wanting to take his prey too early. I want to enjoy the hunt and the act itself for as long as I can. This has got to be the ultimate rush, better than any drug.

My eyes narrow as I stare at you leaning against the counter. You look at me, but I say nothing, I just eat. My eyes wander up and down your body, my mind a flurry of thoughts…evil thoughts. I stare at the thin leather skirt wrapped snuggly around your lap and waist covering what I can only imagine many men have fantasized about. I contemplate the different kinds of panties you could be wearing underneath it. Your skin looks so pale and soft, I know instantly that you are going to bruise easily and I chuckle at the thought. Each time you bite your lip, looking innocent yet seductive, I feel my heart beat faster. Your hair looks so dark in contrast to your pale skin, and your make up enhances our delicate, girlish features.

You look amazing, like a work of art. You are almost too perfect and it angers me. I glare at you with contempt that you could look so perfect and act the way you do. I reason with myself that you are acting stuck up. I have always thought you were and it seems I was right after what you have been saying to me. If I were sober I would realize this was not the case, but I find it easier to justify what I am going to be stealing away from you.

I polish off my plate and push it away from me. I watch you eat as I continue to drink giving myself liquid courage. I can’t believe I actually feel nervous, more like a sense of hesitation. I take drink after drink trying to squash any doubt in my mind. Imagining the fear that will be etched on your face and in your beautiful hazel eyes when you feel me inside of you encourages me. It encourages me just enough so that I finally decide to cross that line of moral bankruptcy and say, “Thanks Kim, that was good. Listen, we don’t need to be rude to each other. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you clean up in here and then meet me in the game room. There’s a pool table in there and maybe we can kill some time. I’ll go ahead and set things up.” I don’t give you a chance to respond. I get up, grab my bottle walk into the game room down the hall. I decide to keep the lights off, leaving just enough light to spill in through the window from outside. I take one last long drink, put the bottle down and hide behind the door waiting for you to walk into my little trap. I can’t wait to surprise you from behind and feel your panic. The anticipation is killing me. There you are in the kitchen, unsuspecting, having no idea what is about to happen. Right now your body is innocent, pure, free from any kind of violation, but here I wait to change all of that. I am going to be the man that changes your life in the most vulgar of ways.

[Little Sweet One]

I see you watching me, and I know this is wrong. So terribly and completely wrong. But I can't leave, or you'll hurt me. All I have is submission. I have a bad feeling, the essence you are giving off leaves me cold. You're going to hurt me. I look away, unwilling to cry. Knowing something is going to change forever between us.

You continue to drink, my eyes focused on you even as you drink and eat. I want to heave. But this may be the only time I can eat for a while. I don't know what is wrong, maybe me. But it doesn't seem so.

Such an oddity, you are, you seem to be warring with yourself. Like you want what you don't want. My hair drifts and covers my face. I see you looking me up and down, and hide behind the counter. I fight to control my breathing. How are you going to do this? Who knows.

Drink, drink, drink. Sanity slowly going down the drain. I sigh softly and finish my food and drink. I clean my plate meticulously to try to distract myself. Then I hear a scrape. But before I can ask if you want more, you talk. I listen, and bite my lip too hard. I jump and cover my mouth, my eyes half closed in my downward gaze. I look at my hand. Blood. I suck it into my mouth, suddenly parched. I grab another glass of water. I watch you walk away and grab your plate when you are far enough away. I clean it the same way, drinking my water slowly, using the bathroom, then finding the game room too quickly.

Something's wrong. I don't see you, and I don't see light. But if I deny you now, it will be worse later. I am smart, but I don't like getting hurt. So I usually give in pretty quickly. I hold my breath and walk into the dark, warm room. I move slowly, so when it happens I don't get unnecessarily hurt. I want to scream. I can sense you somewhere in this room, but my sense of direction is terrible. I don't know where you are. I take five, slightly unsteady steps into the room and wait.