A Lack of Justice
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Reluctant, First,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This is my first story. It is about Lexi Benton, the abused daughter of a man who killed Caleb Jordan's parents. Due to an error by the police, justice is not served and Caleb decides to take it into his own hands. I hope you enjoy the story.
Rain dribbled from a sodden sky, filling the puddles not yet empty from the last rain they'd had. Lightning flashed from far away, leaving a dull impression of brightness followed by the low grumble of thunder. The storm was coming, and, like his fear, was not welcomed.
Too much time had been spent waiting for the rivers to drain back to their normal size, sand bags that had been filled and piled next to the river banks were still heavy and wet. This season's rainfall had gone beyond the norm, creating lakes where fields had once been, ruining crops and killing off livestock. If it didn't end soon, people would lose all they owned.
But he wasn't thinking of that now. Even as he stood in the window, staring out at the flat land around his home, the home that had been in his family for over a century, his mind was in the shed with the coffin that had been left there earlier that day. Caleb knew what was in the casket, he was the one that had ordered her brought to him. But now that she was here, he wondered if he could really go through with his plan.
A flash of light shone in his eyes, lasting longer than the lightning, catching his attention. A car pulled up to the front of the huge house, the engine idling as a door opened and then closed. Caleb turned from the window and went to the huge desk that had been his father's before he was killed. He sat down, opening a file at random and flipping through to a page somewhere in the middle. Brushing longish black hair from off his forehead, he pretended to be absorbed in what was on the page.
A polite knock sounded on the door and without looking up, he called out permission to enter. Cassie, who'd been with him since before he could walk, popped her graying head in the room.
"Sir, the police are here and wish a word with you."
He sighed, heavily. He'd been expecting this. "Show them in Cassie. Thank you."
When the two men entered, he stood, though he didn't come out from around his desk. "Gentlemen," he said by way of greeting. "What can I do for you?"
"We're sorry to be bothering you this late at night, Mr. Jordan, but we've had a report of a missing girl."
Caleb glanced with curiosity between the two men. "And what does a missing girl have to do with me, Detective..." he let the question hang in the air.
"Ryan, sir," the tallest one said. "Detective Greg Ryan and this is my partner Detective Allen Smith. And the girl should be of a lot of interest to you considering who her father is."
"Sit down, gentlemen," Caleb said suddenly, waving them towards two leather wing back chairs sat at a comfortable distance from his desk. He came around and perched a hip on the edge of his desk, staring down at the men. "So who is this girl who should mean something to me?"
"Does the name Alexis Benton mean anything to you?"
"Alexis Benton is the daughter of the man who killed my parents, Detective. But you both knew that. I take it she is the missing girl?"
"Yes, sir. We are searching the surrounding area for her. You haven't seen her?"
"I haven't seen any of the Bentons since Jack Benton was allowed to walk after killing my father." Caleb let all the hatred he felt for the man be heard in his voice. Jack Benton was a murdering coward. "And I really don't care to see any of them anytime in the near future. If Lexi Benton is missing, I wish you all the luck in the world in finding her. You might want to check and see where daddy dearest was when she went missing. Maybe he killed her like he did my parents." He stood and walked toward the door. "Goodnight gentlemen," he said and waited for them to walk by him.
He heard Cassie open one of the huge double doors that led outside, and listening hard, he could hear the engine of the car rev for a moment before driving away. Caleb sighed. He hadn't been worried about the cops searching the place. He had nothing to hide. But he was glad they were gone. Cops made him itchy.
"Is there anything more I can get for you sir?" Cassie asked, concerned as she stared at the boy she considered as much hers as any of her own children. She'd had almost primary care of him since he was little, since his parents traveled so much in what they had called treasure hunting. Cassie called it a waste of time.
"No, thanks Cassie. Why don't you go on up to bed? I'll be down here for a while longer and I might take a walk and see how the sand bags are holding up."
"I think I will," she said, yawning. "Maybe I can watch some of my programs tonight."
Caleb smiled and wished her a goodnight, waiting until she was up stairs and he heard her door shut before he headed out the door. He had managed to stay away from the shed since it had been delivered earlier today but now he was anxious. So many things could go wrong. And a little tingle of nervous fear edged its way into his thinking.
The path to the shed was wet and slick, the concrete dark from the rain. It was drizzling, almost a steady mist that was cold against his skin, wetting his shirt and making it stick to his chest. His shoes squeaked a little as the water seeped into them, wetting his socks.
The door to the shed had been oiled only this morning and moved soundlessly on its hinges. He swung it open only wide enough to squeeze himself inside and then grabbed the flashlight that he knew was sitting on the tool bench. Flicking it on, he played the beam over the inside of the shed. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he went to the gleaming casket that sat close to the back wall of the shed, a garden hose and a tarp tossed on top of it.
Caleb listened closely, trying to hear if the girl was making any noises or not. He drummed his fingers on the top of the casket. Still no noise. Carefully, he opened up the locks on the side of the coffin, pulling open the top half.
This was the first time he'd seen Lexi Bolton since that day so long ago in the court house. It was the day that her father had walked out those doors as a free man after pumping his parents full of lead slugs. He hadn't been able to believe it had happened. Released on a technicality, the lawyer had said. "I'm so sorry," he'd said over and over as Caleb stared in disbelief and the man's family gathered around him, greeting him happily.
She'd glanced at him once, her pretty green eyes shining from her heart shaped face. Her smile had frozen as she'd seen his face and he felt for a moment as if he would explode, seeing the pity reflected there. How dare she pity him? How dare she? It was her father who'd been at fault, her father who'd pulled the trigger that had ended the lives of Daniel and Sara Jordan. She wouldn't be pitying him when her father was once more back in jail, once more brought before the judge but this time, justice would have its due.
He looked down at her now, her eyes closed, dark, thick lashes creating a semi circle of black high upon her cheekbones, emphasizing the hollow underneath. She'd lost weight since the trial, he could see it in the fragileness of her jaw and in the hollows that cupped her collarbone. Her skin was pale in the beam of the flashlight, seeming almost semi-transparent. It gave her an ethereal look with her silky black hair.
Leaning into the casket, he traced his fingers over her cheeks and down her jaw, then he let his thumb brush against her lips. "Lexi?" he breathed softly, wanting her to wake up, waiting to see the shock in her eyes as she saw him. He wanted her to feel some of the same pain that he had, though he knew that was impossible, her parents were both still alive. But perhaps the shock of where she was, of what was being done to her in the name of her father would help assuage the need he had for her pain.
"Come on, Lexi, wake up," he said again, lightly slapping her cheeks until she moaned, her eyes fluttering before finally opening and settling upon his face. She narrowed her pretty green eyes at him, not understanding what was going on.
"W-who are you?" she said huskily, her throat dry. "W-Where a-am I?" she asked staring around at her surroundings.
"Think about it a minute Lexi, I know you know who I am. We have such history together, don't we?" He traced his finger down her nose, bouncing it on the tip once before leaning even closer. "Look at me, Lexi. Look at me and remember who I am and why you're now lying in a coffin."
Her green eyes sharpened and she stared at the padded satin that lined the plain pine box. "W-why am I in a coffin?" She squeaked, her face now showing her fear. "What do you want from me?"
"Revenge," Caleb said softly. "I am going to own you, Lexi. You will be my act of revenge upon your father for killing my parents." His hand trailed down the front of her dress, idly playing with the buttons as he flipped them open. Her sturdy, serviceable bra came into view, plain white cotton, slightly padded to keep her nipples from poking through the heavy material.
Her hands came up, trying to push at his hands but he ignored them. Instead he continued until he could see the pale, fragile skin covering her ribs. She was thin, almost too thin. She shivered and goose flesh covered her skin, a keening whimper came from between her lips. "Please," she begged, her voice not much over a whisper. "Please stop."
His eyes roamed over what he could see of her body and for a moment he felt only pity. Life hadn't been good to her. She had bruises and old scars on her skin, the newest looking only hours old. He hadn't okay any physical harm to her. He wanted to be the only one to hurt her, the one that she feared. The black bruise made him mad and he growled his anger out loud. "Who hurt you?"
"W-What?" she asked, her hands coming up to fist the top of her dress closed.
Caleb glared down at her. "I asked you who hurt you?" he asked patiently, though a tick at the corner of his mouth belayed that sense of patience. "Where did the bruise come that is over your ribs?"
"I-I f-fell. I'm clumsy," she said softly but her green eyes refused to meet the blue ones that stared down at him. When she felt him continue to stare at her, she glared back, a hint of spirit showing upon her face. "What?"
"You're lying," he said.
"I am not," she snapped, scooting a big further away from him.
He stopped her, grabbing her wrist and holding onto it tightly, tight enough that she flinched and tried to pull away. "Stop moving," he growled.
"What are you going to do?" she whimpered.
"I want to look at that bruise. Now, we can do this the easy way and you won't be hurt or we can do it the other way and I'll hold you down and rip your clothes off to look at it. You decide." Caleb smiled at the look on her face, the terror, the pain. This is what he wanted. He wanted her to be terrified, her tears would be delicious, her every cry would be like a sweet song to his ears. Dragging her up by his hands on her upper arms, he reached once more for her buttons, pulling her hands away from her dress. She fought him for a moment then let her arms fall to her sides. Staring at a point over his broad shoulder, she felt his fingers pressing against her skin. His hands were dry, slightly cool, his fingers gentle against her skin.
"This didn't come from any fall," he said as he nudged at her ribs, checking for cracked or bruised ribs. Went she flinched, he gentled his fingers ever more. "Sorry," he said, though the apology made him grit his teeth. Her father killed his parents. It had been cold, brutal murder as he'd calmly tied them up then shot his father from his knees up, finally putting a bullet in his brain when he'd begged to be put out of his misery.
He pulled his hand away, realizing he'd been caressing her soft warm skin. "Take off the dress."
Lexi's eyes grew big and horror made her skin turn even paler. She shook her head slowly. "No," she breathed. "Please, don't."
"Do as I say Lexi and don't make me mad. Now take off that dress!"
"I-I-I can't," she said finally, staring up at him. "I-I've never..."
"You've never what?" he asked, watching her sit and shiver. "What?" he asked again when she was quiet.
"I-I-I've never t-taken my clothes off in front of a ... a man," she whispered., her head down.
"Don't consider me a man, Lexi," Caleb said softly, his fingers coming up to lift her chin with a gentle touch. Consider me your owner."
"Owner?" she whimpered. "That's b-barbaric."
"So is what your father did to my parents. Do you remember the pictures that were shown at his hearing, Lexi?" He waited until she nodded. "Do you remember what was done to my mother?"
Lexi nodded again, though she wouldn't meet his eyes. There was horror in her eyes for the damage to his mother had been worse. "Are you threatening me?" she asked, showing more spirit that she had since she'd woken.
"No, baby," he said, his fingers moving down her jaw-line and wrapping around her throat. "I'm promising. Now take off the dress." Grabbing her gently under her arms, cautious of the bruises he'd seen, he lifted her from the coffin, setting her carefully on the uneven ground. She'd lost her shoes, her pantyhose were in ruin with runs and holes everywhere.
He pushed down her hands, grabbing the two sides of her dress and yanking them down to where they caught upon her wrists. The cuffs were buttoned and he yanked down hard, the buttons popping off to roll under the table the coffin had been placed on. She struggled as the dress caught, trying to wrench herself away from him. "Why are you doing this?"
"Why did your father kill my parents?"
"He didn't," she cried as he pushed the dress over her slender hips, exposing the top of her pantyhose and the serviceable white cotton panties she wore under them. Her skirt pooled at her feet and she cringed, feeling more than naked under his gaze. She could see the pity in his blue eyes, see how he looked at her too skinny body, seeing the bruises that her father had put on her and pitying her because of them. Because of that look, her chin raised and she glared back at him, unwilling to give him satisfaction of cowering before him.
"You're a bastard," she spat at him."
Caleb felt his anger rise and he lifted his hand as if to strike her, stopping within inches of her skin. "No, I definitely know who my parents were, I had to identify the bodies." He moved closer until he had her pinned between the coffin and his hard body, forcing her to look up into his face. "Here is what the deal is. You are mine, forfeited to me when your father wasn't made to pay for his crimes. You will pay for them instead. You will do what I say, when I say it with no hesitation or you'll be punished." He grabbed her throat, his fingers digging cruelly into her jaw. "If I say to suck my cock, you'll do it and do it happily." He moved even closer, her too slender body pressing against him. "Do you understand?"
Her chin rose and she glared at him angrily. "I won't become your whore."
Then I guess you'll have to take the punishment." Caleb took her arm and forced her to come with him. He pushed her to the back of the shed and stood her there. Pressing a small button hidden under a shelf, he watched as a door opened and a light turned on. Chains hung from the ceiling and a collar was tacked to a wall. In one corner was a small kennel, four bands wrapped around the bottom reinforced steel rungs that would hold her wrists and her thighs. But he pushed her toward the far wall and the cot that was unfolded there. A thin mattress lay across the metal springs and two tattered blankets covered it. He pushed her down on it, holding her easily with one hand. The other ripped at the torn pantyhose, pulling them from her legs.
"Lay down," he ordered.
"Don't, please," she begged, unable to stop herself.
"Lie down!" he ordered again. "Do it now!"
"Don't hurt me," she cringed back against the mattress. It was almost shocking when all he did was cuff her hand with a metal shackle that was bolted to the wall above the cot. He pushed her further down, taking another shackle from the floor and cuffing her other wrist.
"You've got enough room here to move around some. You won't be able to escape. I've got this room wired, sound and video," he warned, pointing out the wires to her. There was a small refrigerator in the corner and he went, pulling out a bottle of water. He brought it over to her, opening the screw top and holding it to her lips. "Drink, it will help with the headache to get the rest of the drug out of your system."
She drank greedily, a trickle of the icy water falling from her chin and onto her breast. With her hands cuffed, she couldn't brush it away and felt the icy drip trickle down over her chest and onto the curve of her breast. His fingers caught it before it could descend into her cleavage and she jerked backwards as he took the bottle from her lips, capping it and setting it down where she could reach it.
"Drink the entire thing. If you must use of the other necessities, there is a small chamber pot under the cot." He looked at how she was tied down. "It won't be easy but you'll figure out a way. Behave. If I have to come down her in the middle of the night, I'm going to think that you want to see me."
He headed out the door, swinging it close behind him. He heard her scream of rage and smiled. It was a start.