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From: "celia batau" <pinataheart@bigplanet.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Running {celia batau} (Mf MF nc bd tort inc)
Date: Sat,  2 Sep 2000 20:10:05 -0400
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hi everyone!

note: this story is copyright 2000 by celia batau. you may copy this story
for personal use so long as the author's name and this note are retained.
permission to copy, distribute, or display this work is not given to any
website which charges access to it. permission to copy, distribute, or
display this work is given to "no charge" websites with written consent of
author.

please do not read this if you are under 18 or if it is illegal where you
live, ok?

we like hearing what you think of this story. you can email us at
pinataheart@bigplanet.com

enjoy!


Running
by celia batau
copyright 2000

"Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe that I have a new life
I don't believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful someday"
-"Wonderful" by Everclear


The tide slipped up around Anna's feet and dragged itself back. She stood,
staring out at the ocean for moments or hours, always then turning to walk
further along the shore until the desire to stop and stare overcame her
again. A troubling sensation tugged on her senses, and the dream world
slipped back into her subconscious. Anna groaned at the loss. She opened her
eyes and blinked. Her father was in her room.

"Papa?"

Anna shrieked as her father took hold of a handful of her hair and dragged
her out of bed. Anna stumbled to her feet and was immediately pulled out of
her room, down the hall, and through the kitchen. Passing bent over through
the doorway into the garage, she was flung forward and fell to the oily
cement floor.

Anna sat up and rubbed an elbow.

"Fuck. What do you want?" She yelled at him.

Her father slapped her hard against the side of her head. Anna held a palm
to her ringing ear.

It was never "what did I do?" She never had to do anything to get treated
like this. If she had done something, her father would usually just beat
her. Being in the garage meant something else.

Avoiding her father's eyes, Anna looked around. The big door was closed,
thankfully. Nothing looked out of place, and Anna was about to wonder what
they were doing in the garage when she spotted the pile of rope and chains
on the workbench. Anna groaned.

"Take it off," her father gestured at her.

Anna's chest felt like it was full of lead, but she obeyed, pulling the
oversized t-shirt up over her head and dropping it behind her. She wore
nothing underneath.

Anna's father kicked the shirt to the wall and walked around her to the
workbench.

"Please?" She begged.

"Shut up."

Anna covered her face with her hands and took two deep breaths. Every
molecule of her being screamed for her to get up and run. But Running only
made it worse for her later. So did fighting him. Or breathing sometimes
even. So she sat still and waited.

Her thoughts wandered around the garage, to the big door to the bare wood
walls, to the workbench, and finally to the two large eyebolts sunk into the
floor on opposite sides of the garage. Anna's stomach sank thinking about
them. "Why?" she thought, feeling the self-pity flood through her. She
frowned and swallowed the feeling back down.

Lost in her thoughts, Anna forgot about her father until he grabbed her and
pulled her to her feet. He forced her to hold both her hands in front of
her. When Anna was standing as he liked, he wrapped one end of a short chain
around her left wrist and fixed the end with a padlock. There was only just
enough chain left to wrap around the other wrist, and the loops of both
padlocks had to pass through the same link. Her father then wrapped a
slightly frayed rope several times between her wrists and tied it off with a
complicated knot. Anna looked at her hands. A chill ran from her ears and
down her back.

He let the rope hang down to the ground and went to the bench. He returned
with two more long lengths of chain. These he chained to her ankles and ran
the other ends to the eyebolts. He tugged on one chain and then the other,
forcing Anna to open her legs. When they were opened uncomfortably wide, he
locked each chain to its eyebolt.

Anna looked at her feet, hyperaware of all the space between them, while her
father took the rope and threw the loose end over an exposed ceiling beam
and pulled the slack tight. Then he tugged the rope, raising Anna's arms
over her head until she had to strain to keep her feet on the cement. He
tied off the rope.


Sunlight through the branches littered the ground in sharp bright splotches
between the dried leaves and twigs. The bright green hose snaked around the
trunk burbled a slow stream of clear water into a depression of mushy dirt.
Anna found herself sitting cross-legged on one side facing a small boy who
sat on an exposed root, poking the nose of a plastic jet into the mud.

"I'm gonna run away and never come back." He said

Anna looked into the boy's downcast face. Dried mud clumped in his brown
hair, clogged the curls of an ear, and ran streaks across his smooth pale
rounded cheeks. His dark eyes glanced up at her for a moment, then back down
to his game.

"Where are you going to go?" She asked in a voice that sounded high and
immature in her ears.

He shrugged. "Wanna come?"

Anna leaned forward and scratched at the dirt on the knees off her tights
with tiny hands. Turning her head, she felt the long thick braid of her hair
flop over her shoulder.

"I can't," she answered.

Grasping the loose end of her braid, Anna held the translucent red beads of
the band binding her hair and rubbed them between her fingers. The boy said
nothing, but stopped his game and put the jet in his lap. For a while they
both sat silently with their thoughts until the boy looked back up at her
and said, "Say 'twenty-four.'"


Everything went black. Anna screamed as a sudden pain shot through her
senses. Pain in her breasts. Pain in her hips, belly, bottom, thighs. She
jerked her arms. Rough welds on the chain links binding her hands bit into
the skin of her wrists, but her arms wouldn't come down.

"Twenty Four!" She screamed, not knowing why, but trusting the hallucination
she just had. Her father laughed somewhere to her left. Anna's bare feet
felt cold on the floor. She knew where she was again.

Anna flinched as her father's hand touched, then took hold of, her right
breast. "One more," he whispered into her ear.

Anna bit onto her lower lip waiting for whatever "one more" was to come. She
tried not to think of the stinging on her skin. She tried not to think of
her father's thick fingers pinching and pushing her right nipple until it
rose between them. But she couldn't ignore the familiar sharp touch of a
sewing needle as its tip was placed at the side of her nipple.

"No, please, no Papa," she begged.

"Count for me," he answered.

"No, Papa."

The shaft of the needle tore its hole before she felt the searing jolt pass
through the whole of her breast and into her chest. Her legs jerked against
the bindings holding them down. She choked back a short scream that did
nothing to ease the painful tingling in her nipple. Wetness dripped onto her
upper lip, and she sucked it back into her nose, tasting it soon afterwards
in the back of her mouth.

Except for the sound of her breathing in her ears, the garage was silent.
Then she remembered.

"Twenty fi-"

"Open your eyes," her father commanded.

Anna slowly did and saw the closed mouth of a pair of needle-nose pliers
held up in front of her nose.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut again. She sucked in quick shallow breaths, one
after another, until her father squeezed her breast to stop her body from
rocking.

Taking the flat end of the needle in one hand, he clamped the pliers around
the other and bent the tip. Anna winced and coughed as the needle tugged
her, but, thankfully, it didn't hurt any worse than pushing it through had.


The boy was standing on the bench in front of the bunker of lockers stacked
like an institutional gold-colored island in the center of the blacktop. He
waited as Anna and her classmates washed out of fourth period algebra.
Holding her books to her chest, Anna stepped out of the shade of the
overhang and walked toward him.

The boy looked older now, and more familiar, but she couldn't place why. He
hopped off the bench as she neared and stood with hands in pockets until
they were face to face.

Anna waited for the boy to speak first. He looked at her face, then shifted
his eyes out to the blacktop and back.

"I don't want to die."

Anna saw his almost pink lips move, revealing the narrow gap between his
front teeth as he spoke, but she didn't hear the words. Instead, it seemed
like she felt them throughout her entire being.

The boy licked his lips. "You know what I mean?"

Anna knew. She too looked out across the blacktop at the basketball courts,
the plastic lunch benches, and the grassy field stretched out beyond them.
She watched some of her friends and more she didn't know, but felt no
connection to any of them.

"This is my junior high school," she told him.

The boy ignored her. "We gotta go."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere. Away."

"I can't."

"Please?" he whined.

"I can't."

The boy looked away from her for a moment. He sighed.

"You have to."

Before she could answer again, Anna's second hallucination faded into the
darkness behind her closed eyes.


Anna heard her father's footsteps pace in front of her. They stopped and she
felt his fingers press against her chin."

"Open."

Anna opened her mouth. Something hard and round pushed its way between her
teeth, forcing her to stretch her mouth until it was seated. Then she felt
her father pull the attached straps around her head, and he leaned into her
to buckle them in place. Anna opened her eyes and stared at the dark skin
under his jawline and alongside his throat.

Her father stepped back and grinned at her. Anna's heart sank. He was having
such fun.

Taking another step back, he crossed his arms and let his gaze run over his
daughter.

Anna didn't like it. She couldn't hide, couldn't cover herself, couldn't do
anything. She couldn't gain weight or lose it without him commenting on it.
She couldn't even get a tan without him pointing out the places she had kept
covered. She was so tired of him, so dulled by his stare that she wasn't
even afraid anymore. There was nothing she could do anyway but look him in
the eyes and try not to look like she cared.

He watched her for a few minutes. Anna tried to get comfortable standing in
the chains with her legs spread wide open. She could almost feel him looking
from little red dot to little red dot where the needles stood out from the
skin and to other curves and slopes she did not want to think about.

Finally, Anna's father dropped his arms and stepped around behind her. He
untied the rope holding her wrists up. Anna's arms dropped lifelessly and
she whined as they hit the needles. Her shoulders ached, and she was
starting to think about dropping to her knees when her father stepped back
around and grabbed her arm. He unlocked one of her wrists and pushed her
hands around her back. She then felt him relock them behind her. Her fingers
tingled as the circulation returned.

Her father retied the rope, then pulled on the other end, lifting her arms
up behind her. Anna bent over to let her arms rise. Her fingers played with
the knot until they went numb again.

The rope tugged twice more, but she couldn't bend any farther. He tied off
the loose end.

Anna looked down between her legs. Her father stood directly behind her. He
traced a finger along her spine. Then his finger slid over the sweaty rise
of her bottom and down into the crack. Anna rocked on her feet trying to
fight off the unwanted touch.

He passed the pad of his finger over her anus and along her labia and back
up again, rubbing softly in a long circle avoiding her clitoris, but making
sure everything else was attended to. Anna concentrated on ignoring the
pleasantness growing between her legs. She didn't want it. Her face felt
hot. She concentrated on that and on the strain on her arms and on the
strings of saliva dripping from her mouth.

Anna's father pressed her bottom cheeks apart, and she felt a coolness where
air touched sensitive skin. After a moment, he let go and unzipped his
pants. She raised her head and closed her eyes. immediately, she felt the
tip of her father's penis tap against her. And with the help of his fingers,
he slid the length of his manhood into the wetness of his bound daughter.

Anna hated herself. Why did she make it so easy for him? Gods, this wasn't
even for her. She hated her stupid body.

The penis pulled back slightly then eased forward again. Tears rolled and
dripped off Anna's cheeks to meet the saliva pooling beneath her. Anna
clenched her muscles, but that only made the motions feel that much better.
She bit on her gag and screamed.


Once again the tide washed over her feet. Only this time Anna sensed she
wasn't alone. She looked out at the sea, then turned to find the boy
standing a short distance behind her.

Anna laughed, finally recognizing who the boy was. It was Adam, the boy at
school who she'd been fantasizing obsessively over since last fall. Or at
least this was some version of him. He was his normal age now. The faint
breeze stood his short brown hair on end and drew an outline of his chest
under his shirt.

Anna's face became calm again. "I can't go with you."

"Why not?"

"Nowhere to go."

"Come on, Anna," he pleaded, "you can't stay."

Anna didn't answer, but turned to face the sea.

Adam sighed and crossed the sand to stand beside her. He knew the truth as
well as she did, especially if he was a part of Anna's mind like she thought
he was. Her life was over if she ran. No one could ever know what was going
on at home. No one. She wouldn't tell. And if she was found, she would be
sent right back.

Anna reached up and hugged him. Adam wrapped his arms around her and hugged
her back. "Just make it better for me, ok?" she whispered into his chest.

Adam nodded sadly. Anna lifted her face. Adam bent his down. Adam's lips
felt so nice as they touched hers. Anna moaned and opened her mouth, letting
his tongue find hers.

All too soon, Adam let go and stepped back. He pulled off his shirt and laid
it flat on the sand. He undid his khakis, removed them and his boxers, and
plopped cross-legged onto the shirt.

Anna smiled and slowly unbuttoned her cardigan. Her hips swayed in a gentle
roll as she slipped the cardigan off her arms. Adam touched himself as he
watched Anna lazily dance to her own internal music. Piece by piece, her
skirt, panties, and bracelets fell to the sand until Anna stood nude except
for the soft pink lace bra with the little pearl peeking between the cups.

Planting her feet on either side of Adam, Anna let her lover lean forward
and rub his nose into her hair. His tongue stretched out for a tentative
first taste of her sex. Anna adjusted herself to make it easier. Adam traded
tongue for teeth and lips as he roamed from her center to her thighs. He
returned to find her clit and rolled his tongue over it while he raised a
hand to smear her wetness with a thumb.

Anna pinched her nipples through her bra and remembered the needles. She
froze, but Adam's soft touches started moving her again. He felt so nice.
Anna pulled the cups down and caressed her breasts directly. Her legs
started to tremble. The warmth was building so quickly. Anna pulled herself
off Adam and lowered herself into his lap before she lost control of her
legs. Adam helped her down onto him, and she savored each little bit of him
that slid smoothly into her.

They kissed. It was a you're-in-me-I'm-in-you kind of kiss. Anna's tongue
played over his teeth as their mouths worked together. It took effort, but
Adam managed to begin pumping against her weight. Anna tilted her hips in
time to help them both. She scratched his back and ran her hands over his
head. She was so close. The warmth pulsed and she shuddered. Her whole body,
from center to tips, flared with heat. It pulsed, dropped, and pulsed, then
slowly eased.

As Anna came down, she felt Adam tense and relax. He grunted into her neck.
Anna hugged him fiercely.


Anna's knees buckled and she collapsed to the garage floor. She sat dully in
her wetness as her father stood over her. Dropping the pliers and a ring of
keys to the cement in front of her, he turned and left through the side door
into the house, leaving Anna to clean up the mess.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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