Chapter 10 - Into the Belly

Becky Freeman felt a knot of frustration tightening in her stomach. The weekly ritual of Trip’s Friday visits, as unpleasant as they were, had become a grim constant in her life. However, the gnawing uncertainty that accompanied each cancellation was becoming unbearable. It had been seven weeks and four consecutive cancellations from Trip. Instead of relief, a heavy dread now settled over her.

Earlier that day, Jake had texted her a few hours after Trip’s cancellation message. “Night off again,” he wrote. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t bother with underwear.” Becky’s heart sank as she read the words.

She decided to make herself as unappealing as possible, though she knew it was futile. Jake would take what he wanted, regardless. Still, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. The January chill provided an excuse to bundle up. She pulled on a pair of old, baggy sweatpants, a faded gray sweatshirt that swallowed her frame, thick wool socks with a loose elastic, and a pair of plain, scuffed shoes. She glanced in the mirror—she looked like a shapeless blob, perfect.

At seven sharp, Becky waited on the curb, hugging herself against the cold. Jake pulled up in his sleek black car, the window rolling down with a smooth hum. He jerked his head towards the passenger seat, a silent command. Becky sighed, her breath misting in the frigid air, and trudged to the car. She barely had the door shut when Jake started issuing orders.

“Pants down to your ankles,” he said, eyes on the road. “And take off the sweatshirt. When you’re in my car, that’s how you’ll ride.” He spoke as if he were reminding her of a forgotten routine.

Becky felt a wave of disgust and despair. Jake had seen her naked more times than she could count. He’d made her do things that still made her stomach churn. Nothing should surprise her anymore, but the harsh reality of Jake always left her feeling hollow and defeated. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

Becky sat silently in the passenger seat, the hum of the car engine filling the void between her and Jake. When the car remained stationary, she let out a sigh that fogged up the window slightly. Shifting her weight, she lifted her hips off the seat and tugged her sweatpants down to her ankles, the cool air of the car nipping at her newly exposed skin. She quickly wriggled out of her sweatshirt, discarding it onto the floor mat. Jake’s eyes roved over her, his gaze cold and calculating, like a butcher assessing a cut of meat. Wordlessly, he shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road.

The car rolled through the streets, the rhythmic thump of tires on pavement lulling Becky into a daze. She only snapped to attention when they jerked to a stop in a parking lot. Looking up, she took in the sprawling apartment complex, its dull beige walls looming in the night.

Jake killed the engine and pushed open his door, the overhead light flickering on. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, climbing out.

Becky started to tug her pants up and reached for her sweatshirt, but Jake stopped her with a sharp shake of his head. “No, that stays in the car,” he barked.

Her eyes widened, the reality of stepping out into the open, her breasts bare to the world, sending a shiver down her spine.

A harsh laugh escaped Jake’s lips. “I just love living in a state where women can walk around topless in public,” he remarked, slamming the door shut behind him.

Resigned, Becky stepped out of the car, the frigid night air wrapping around her like a vice. Her nipples hardened in the cold, goosebumps prickling her flesh. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill. Jake led her up a stairwell, their footsteps echoing in the still night. They stopped in front of a nondescript door, Jake jangling his keys in the lock. Becky glanced around, grateful for the lack of witnesses to her humiliation.

The apartment was surprisingly clean, a far cry from the squalor Becky had expected. The furniture was simple but well-kept, and even the artwork on the walls was tasteful, with not a single naked woman in sight.

“Leave everything you’re wearing next to the door,” Jake instructed casually as if she were an old friend stopping by for a visit. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Becky alone in the entryway.

She kicked off her shoes, peeled off her socks, and stepped out of her sweatpants, her body trembling slightly from the cold and the nerves. She stood there, naked and vulnerable, waiting for Jake’s next command.

He returned holding a pair of leather cuffs, the buckles jingling softly as he walked. Circling behind, he grabbed her wrists, the warmth of his hands a stark contrast to the cold air. He secured the cuffs, the leather tight against her skin.

“Alright, follow me,” he ordered, leading her into the living room. He planted himself in a worn recliner, the fabric frayed at the edges. Swiveling to face her, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and ready.

“Get down on your knees and blow me,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Becky sank to her knees, the carpet rough against her bare skin. She took him into her mouth, her tongue slowly circling his shaft. Suddenly, darkness enveloped her as Jake slipped a blindfold over her eyes, securing it behind her head.

“Slower,” he instructed, his hand tangling in her hair, guiding her pace.