“Goddamnit, Leah! You’ve been teasing me this whole time.” Davey had the cutest southern drawl. And the way he whined only made it—so much more amusing.

As I giggled, my tiny cones shook under the dark red swimsuit top. Beneath the taut material, my tightening nipples ached. Another cool breeze helped tamp the torrid summer heat as I lay on the towel beside the murky greenish blue lake. Since its still waters were now reflecting a lowering sun, most other bathers had already packed up to head home. Only a few kids our age clustered under a blanket in the distance, smoking weed, drinking, and making out.

“I’m not kidding,” Davey added with a scowl.

As he sat beside me, his brown eyes were glossy beneath his furled brow. This time when I smiled through my swirling auburn tresses at the slim, blond-haired boy, I not only chortled, I raked my crimson fingernails across his trunks. Even as he thrust into my fingertips, I lifted them away to drag my nails up his heaving chest.

“Evil,” he hissed before gulping when I pressed my nails into the skin over his breastbone. “Pure ... Oh, fuck. You’re pure evil.”

After pulling my hand from him, one more giggle slipped from me. With a sigh, I lay back and stretched to give him an eyeful before closing my eyes. It’d been such a fun day. Rum and coke were warm in my flat belly. In silence, he guzzled another swig before sighing. He could’ve taken me. But he didn’t. As much as every part of me hungered. Instead, he dropped away to collapse on his towel with a final slurp. The empty bottle thumped to the sand between us.

After a lengthier sigh, I stretched further, shaking my hands and feet, letting the last rays of the sun fight over my skin with the chillier breeze. Since Dave would be no fun, I let my mind wander. We’d only just arrived in town. Out in the fucking country. Bumfuck, Texas. And “town” was being generous. After my dad was killed, my mom decided to take us home, even though she hadn’t been here in ... Well, I was eighteen, so eighteen years and nine months. Or five months. Whenever she’d first started to show.

So, here we were. My drug-addled mother, hoping to go clean—again, and me, living with a grandma I’d never known. There wasn’t even real internet. It was “rural” which meant ones and zeroes snail-crawling along twisting hemp rope towards the nearest speck of civilization. The spotty cellular phone service was limited to only one side of town.

If Davey, the guy I’d eyeballed at the local diner a couple of weeks ago, heard my muted cursing or saw my balled fists tightening, he remained silent. Fuck, I didn’t even know where he lived. He’d picked me up after I’d convinced mom he was taking me to a special church outing. From the glint in her eyes, Grandma hadn’t bought it, but she’d kept quiet. At least I was out of her house.

Above the lake, a darker, lower cloud whizzed, casting a shadow just as another chilly gust swept heavy sand over me. Dirt, more like. Despite what the yokels called it-this was no “beach.” With another soft curse, I screwed my eyes tighter and tried to relax even as goosebumps erupted over my skin. After a yawn slithered from me, I rolled my head to glance at Davey. He was snoring. My eyelashes fluttered closed.

Once again, as more often than not, right after I awoke, I realized my mistake. Although, at least this time, I still wore clothes. And wasn’t sore. Or hung-over, although rum was a sticky sweet gum across my teeth. Or still high. No matter. As soon as I opened my eyes to the darkening skies, my heart raced. I glanced over at ... Nothing but dark sand. Davey was gone. His towel was gone. My bag was gone. Hell, even my flip-flops had disappeared. Ha, ha. Real funny. I’m sure Davey was laughing his ass off in the truck, waiting for me.

Despite the Moon rising, it was being devoured by heavy, low black clouds. Just as thunder—loud thunder—rumbled, an icy breeze shot through me, raising thick goosebumps. More dirt kicked up in swirling columns, blinding me as I covered my eyes with my shaking arm.

Fuck. He’d seemed like a pretty nice guy. I’d call home, except my phone was in my bag. Hell, I’d no idea where we were. He’d driven for more than an hour. At least it’d felt that long. While ignoring his questions, I’d been busy checking my social media until we outran the cell signal.

With my teeth chattering, I wrapped the towel tight around me. As I scanned the deserted lakeshore, a string of curses left my muttering lips. I’d only been having fun. Just being playful. After another sigh, I lurched to my feet. Fine, he was getting his back. I’d make my way to his piece-of-shit, rusted red pickup and beg for him to take me home. No harm, no foul. But I’d get my revenge on him later.

Now that was a hobby I enjoyed. Revenge.

After sweeping whirling brown strands from my face, I squinted at the line of scrub bushes in the failing light. Just as massive thudding raindrops cratered into the surrounding sand, I dashed towards the nearest gap.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a man in swirling dark rags, his long arms outstretched, twirling, skipping and dancing along the shore; whitecaps rippled beyond him under the strengthening breeze. Shivers, not of cold, raced through me. According to Davey, homeless people camped around this and other local lakes. Great. With the looming shadow lurching closer, I flew into the scrub, hoping this was the trail back to the ... Well, to call it a “parking lot” was grandiose in the extreme.

As I stumbled through the dark, along the overgrown access path, the thought of Davey, all warm and snuggled in the cab, had my fists clenching and a snarl on my lips. Another bottle to his mouth, he was probably chuckling as the rain pounded down in great sheets of gray. Sodden, the orange and blue-striped towel stuck to me. With my hair plastered tight to my skull, my teeth chattered louder in the ever-rising wind.

“Ow! Fuck!” I staggered forward when my toe slammed into a thick, gnarled tree root. Davey couldn’t have left my sandals? “Fucking bastard.”

As the dirt soaked, it became a deep, glassy mire sticking to my feet as I lurched, ducking through the shrubs. Just to add to the fun, sharp rocks and twigs stabbed into me amidst the sucking goo. I’d give him a piece of my...

A cry tore from me when a forceful gust wrenched the wet towel from my grip; it flew from my shaking shoulders into the branches. With a grunt, I hopped up and yanked it free, but it ripped, leaving me with two tails whipping in the freezing, rain-laden wind. As droplets slammed into me, striking like small chunks of ice, they stung my skin. Wrapped in the flapping cloth remnants, I held my hands before my face, leaned into the blinding wind, and struggled onwards.

If I remembered correctly, the “parking lot” was probably no more than a broad puddle. It was more like somebody with a truckload of gravel had smeared it over white sugar sand. When I staggered from the rustling dark brush into the middle of the yep—mud puddle—sharp gravel gouged deep into both frozen feet.

My heart spiraled into the pit of my stomach. Then raced. No truck. No Davey. Nothing but lighting flashes in the darkness, rain slicing sideways into my painful skin, and the constant howling of the icy wind.

“Fuck!”

At that point, I broke out into body-shaking sobs. And I never cry. But I did then. My chest heaved as I cursed and flung my fists skyward. Which was stupid since the strips of towel whipped free to disappear in a whirling gust of bone-chilling gray wetness.

With another string of curses, I crumpled to my knees in the freezing muck, letting the stinging ice pound my back as tears poured from my eyes. Strands of long hair whipped past my face to slash along the surface of the dark muck.

I was so fucked. And not in the pleasurable way. At least, so I’d heard. While I managed an air of sluttiness, even in Bumfuck, I’d been lucky enough to limit myself to emergency blowjobs and the occasional panicked wank. “Teasing is fine, but don’t pay for it,” my mother had murmured when I was younger—much younger. She oughta know.

“Leah, Leah. Such a wicked little temptress.”

At the deep voice resonating in my chest despite the loud thunder and splashing rain, I spun, catching splatting hair across my face while scanning the gray-streaked darkness. Nobody. Nothing but me. And the rain. And wind. And lightning. And thunder. And all that mud. With my entire frame shaking from the cold, I surged upward to my wobbly legs. Though shielding my eyes against the stinging drops, I still could see no other person.

When sharp nails sank into my back, icier chills flowed deep into me. As the rough daggers dragged over me, tugging on my top, I whirled once more, but again—nothing. However, icy gusts hammered and raindrops pierced my wobbling tits, now bared to the storm. In a brilliant flash of white-blue lightning, I caught the pair of red triangles spinning upwards, disappearing into the hazy blackness.

“Very nice.” Again, that profound voice sank into me as I clasped my arms across my shaking chest. With a gasp, my feet splashed icy mud water over my ankles as I spun on my toes. Still nothing. Yet the voice reappeared, sending ripples through my trembling frame. “I can work with this.”

“Who?” was all I managed before jolting, when a sharp-tipped finger slapped into me once more.

At the spiky stab—right there—I dropped my gaze to the dent in the tiny red triangular bikini bottoms. All the air in my lungs hissed from me as the indentation rose. Great rippling shakes took me as the razor scratch of an invisible fingernail climbed the center of my body.

Once it reached my breastbone, I tensed and surged to the side. Or tried. Instead, I remained in place. The voice laughed. It wasn’t a cheerful laugh. Once more, I strove to run, but couldn’t move. It wasn’t fight or flight. My legs simply refused to lift.

At the sharp spikes on my hips, I sucked in icy, wet air and pushed against whatever was holding me. To no avail. On a battering gust of freezing wind, heavy pellets of rain drilled my bare pelvis. My eyes tracked the tiny pair of torn-away red triangles skipping across the mud before being sucked upward into the deepening maw of the storm.

“Yes. Very, very nice. Little temptress.”

When the invisible nail traced along my slit, my knees weakened; I wavered in a sudden gust of ice-cold wind. Deeper, a series of shivers raced up my spine when the nail sank as it glided. Heat flared, and I gasped for air in the slanting chilly torrent as my body spiked with searing flames.

“My, oh my. A virgin?” While the voice came from all around me, more fires ignited. Its nail poked, prodded, and stroked before sliding free. As the muddy, black lot spun and blurred, my entire frame, though buckling, did not fall.

“What? No...” With a smirk, on automatic, my usual slut voice answered even under the driving rain, until icy nails raked along my spine. “Yes! I mean yes! I didn’t drink that much, and it was only one guy. Uh, I, um, ... I sucked him off. Not like the mob fucking Beverly Kincaid in the room next door.” When my mouth stopped shoving out words, I clenched my jaw. Why had I told him all that? Him?

“Good. You’ll be worth far more.” At the voice right next to my ear, I flung my rain-spattered tresses away to stare, but once again there was nothing.

“Huh? What? Worth...?”

At the tap of an icy nail in the middle of my forehead, a wave of bottomless black chill engulfed me as I swayed towards the shiny, droplet-pounded mud.

I awoke with a start. As I sucked in torrid, damp air, sweat dribbled and tumbled down my bare skin. After a lengthy gulp, I tugged at my wrists, then tried to move my legs, but could do no more than squirm. With the pit in my stomach deepening, my pulse raced as I eased my aching head from side to side, looking around.

Limbs outstretched and buck naked, I was affixed to a curving wall of stone. Each carbide gray rock was a perfect square, though rough and worn at the edges. The hot metal of solid clamps held my neck, wrist, and ankles snug. Protruding from the wall, two blocks acted as partial steps. The shallow, slippery ledges supported my heels.

Far, far above, a tiny circle in the stonework revealed whirling streaks of thin, dark clouds. The sky was a dusky red-tinged russet, unlike anyplace I’d seen. Below me was nothing but a darkening gray mist giving way to peeks of fathomless black gloom. In the faint orange glow, glittering drops of perspiration slipped from my tits or off my limbs to spin downwards.

At the nudge of a frigid nail below my belly button, I jolted and, flinging my dangling matted hair, whipped my throbbing skull from side to side. Nothing.

“I want to go home!” Air huffed from my shaking lips as the nail dropped, dividing the thin wisps of my sweat-glistening tuft. Its chill sent goosebumps spattering across my seared skin. “Let me go!”

“You can’t go home.” At that chest-thumping deep voice, tremors wriggled through me. “It’s far too late for that.”

“What ... Oh...” His—the voice was mostly masculine—nail dragged in an unhurried circle. Right there. Around my little button. “Oh...” So slow and so close. So very close. Though I didn’t want to, my pelvis disobeyed, arching into his swirling finger. “What ... Oh ... What do you mean?”

In the thickening, now warmer air, a spectral image appeared before me. A newspaper? Did they still have those? Dead center of the front page, next to the local high school softball team’s overwhelming loss against Martinsville High.

Bumfuck, TX. David Wayne Curtis, 18, was arrested yesterday morning by the Bumfuck County Sheriff’s Office. Wanted for the disappearance of Leah Abramson. The state’s attorney, Roscoe Bingham, stated the only items they’d recovered were Miss Abramson’s torn swimwear and a ripped towel. These were scattered around the Tigswatchee State Park’s lakeshore access, forty-two miles outside Bumfuck. After admitting to be in possession of Miss Abramson’s personal items, Mr. Curtis is scheduled to be arraigned on the charges of kidnapping and aggravated assault. Further charges may be brought depending on crime scene analysis.

My eyes widened as I read and re-read the wavering, blurring article. I’d wanted to be famous one day. Did that count? Anyway, so what? There I was. Quite alive.

“So? That’s not true.” Despite my simmering anger, when his circling nail pressed deeper, tugging on the sides of my clit as it swirled, air whistled from my lips. My insides fluttered. “I’m ... Oh ... I’m still ... Oh, fuck...” His nail was so close. When my hips shoved, he laughed. Yet, the finger kept circling. So fucking slowly. “I’m still alive. Damn it. Send me back. Let me go.”

“No.” When his finger stopped, my body continued to writhe. “No, you’re quite dead. To them. They’ll find you, eventually. At the bottom of that nasty bowl of turgid, filthy water. Trapped in an old washing machine that dear confused Mr. Curtis used to dump your carcass.”

“But ... But, I’m here.”

“Yes. You are.” His nail moved. It tapped once. Right on my clit. As I gasped, every nerve sizzling, he chuckled. “But that poor murdered—quite violently—young woman’s very decomposed body will serve nicely.”

At first, another of his laughs rattled my chest, but my whole body froze as the ragged man from the lakeshore materialized before my eyes. When the taunting finger left me, my disobedient pelvis chased it as far as the rattling, unyielding shackles would permit.

“I have it on good account, the homeless man who killed her has moved on down south, a smile on his face and a maudlin tune in his heart. He hadn’t meant to kill her. It was that damned voice in his head. A voice sorta like mine.” He laughed again, then faded from view. “She was so very pretty. Not unlike you. Her little titties...” Icy nails scraped the underside of my traitorous, sharp nipples. Dribbles of sweat slithered onto his fingers as every nerve in my body tried not to react, but did. As I bucked and squirmed, fires slithering from each languid scrape through my core, he went on. “So like yours. Full of promise. The firm jutting globes they would’ve one day become.”

“She’d been a virgin too. How she’d struggled when I’d used his cock to shove her softness apart, tearing her little hymen into a sliding wrapper of thin flesh. Her mouth wide, screaming. Eyes even wider, unbelieving.” Scrape. Scrape. He alternated his torturous nails, driving my breath in hitching waves to match the fluttering tremors rippling through my wriggling frame. Sweat burned my eyes.

“At first he couldn’t even fit inside her, but she opened for him, and me. They always do. And we rammed that little girl so fucking hard.” His scraping grew faster; so did my panting. “Drove her off her sliding towel. Into the sand. Soon, her screams became wetter and so much longer. As she gripped us tighter, her nails glided instead of dug. And just as she stared deep into our eyes, shuddering, her little pussy clenching and unclenching, her legs gripping us tight...”

With another chest-chilling laugh, his nails clamped onto my nipples. As I screamed, bucking against the sweat-soaked brick, twin flares of pain seared the towering gyres of pleasure shooting through me.

“I had him snap her fucking neck. Like a twig. Her skull, with pretty hair like yours, all matted and dripping, went sideways. You should see her face in that washer. So blissful. Shocked. And so very dead.”

When he laughed again, he yanked those wondrous nails from my wobbling titties. With a lengthy groan, I thrust my chest after him, but my tits only jiggled in frustration until I smacked back against the warm, oily stone with a whimper. Several whimpers.

“Please.” Though I tried to sound forceful, my voice was low and shaky. Fires, refusing to die, guttered within me, causing me to torque and pull against the shackles, slick with sweat. All of me ached, but I managed one half-hearted shout. “I want my freedom!”

It didn’t even echo, and I hung in silence, trickling rivulets tickling my skin while whirling slivers of flame tortured my nerves.

“Freedom?” The voice was distant, but still shook my chest. Likewise, his laugh, though above me, chilled my insides. “And what would you do with freedom? Be alluring?”

As my heels wobbled, clicking atop the cracks of the broken dusty concrete path, hungry dark eyes followed me from hungry dark faces. When I caught my reflection in the filthy window of an abandoned shop, all the air fled my glistening red lips. With my hair, platinum blonde and short, hugging my cheeks in sleek panels of waving silver, I wore only a white blouse, tied beneath my—wow, nice boobs—and a miniscule black and green pleated skirt. The swell of both asscheeks, also nicer, and much longer, well-toned legs, sent shivers through me.

So did the approaching man. Dark-skinned, muscles on muscles beneath a torn neon-green t-shirt, he had such a beautiful white-toothed smile. He spoke. I nodded. His hand slid onto my back, guiding me along a garbage strewn alley. My panties soaking further with every hurried step. The wooden door opened.

Darkness.

Hands. Groping—everywhere.

Cocks. Jutting. Aiming. Jabbing.

Cute little skirt ripped away. Blouse untied and torn away.

Mouths. Sucking. Slurping. Chewing.

I swayed. I rocked. I fucked. They fucked me. I sucked. They sucked me.

So many. So many.

“Or, perhaps, become rich beyond your wildest dreams?” Still above me, his chilly, deep voice brought me back to the roofless tower. Writhing in the chains, I wished to move my hands—fingers—or squeeze my thighs together to relieve the aching pressure still building within me. I managed only the start of a moan before...

The nails of one spread hand clawing at the plate-glass window, a martini swaying in the other, I rocked forward with each forceful thrust. Down below, somebody’d made a play; the crowd’s roar pulsed against my palm. At my reflection, I smiled, my eyes widening with each lengthy run of the enormous pulsing cock. So slick and deep. As always. Glittery and snowy-white, my long sleek gown swung beside me; we’d be heading to the gala ball after the game. He’d simply yanked on the slit of my dress—before flipping it over my back to tear away my panties.

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