Kiss of the Succubus Ch. 05

"Woah! What the fuck, pal?" he exclaimed.

Joe held the cock cage for Big Al to see.

"Can you get it off, or not?"

Big Al winced as he examined the metal contraption.

"Yeah, I can take care of that. This way." Big Al pulled the garage doors closed and led Joe into an office. He pulled up a stool and invited Joe to sit. He did, leaving his pants and underwear at his ankles.

"Be right back," Big Al said, stepping out.

Joe sat awkwardly on the stool, waiting for Big Al to return. He felt like he was six years old again, waiting in the doctor's office to get a shot.

The office was small and messy, with greasy fingerprints on every surface. A calendar hung on the wall above the desk, depicting a beautiful bikini-clad model posing under a waterfall. Joe stared at the water pouring over the model's shapely body, soaking her hair and swimsuit. Her nipples were clearly visible through the soaking wet white bikini top. Joe felt his penis twitch, and was reminded once again of the prison it currently resided. Once his cock cage was off, Joe was strongly considering snatching the calendar just so he could have a quick wank to get his head straight again.

Big Al returned, carrying an electric angle grinder and a shop rag. He set the rag on the desk.

"You sure you want me to do this?" Big Al asked.

"Of course I'm sure! I want this fucking thing off me!" Joe snapped.

"All right, buddy." Big Al flipped on the angle grinder. The wheel spun, filling Joe's ears with a loud buzz. Big Al stepped towards him, putting the spinning blade closer and closer to Joe's private area.

Instead of cutting the cage, Big Al pressed the whirling disc directly into Joe's thigh. He only punctured the skin, not into the flesh, but it was deep enough to spray blood onto the back wall and cause Joe to let out a howling scream.

Joe clutched his bleeding thigh, and Big Al kicked the stool out from under him, knocking Joe to the floor. He tossed Joe the shop rag, and Joe pressed it to his open wound. Big Al shut off the angle grinder.

"Hey! I got a message for you from Gabby Becket," Big Al said. Joe jerked his head up to meet Big Al's gaze. "She says, if you try anything like this again, when that cage does come off, your dick and balls are coming off with it."

Joe opened his mouth to scream. How did she know? How did she know he would come here, of all places? How did she always know where he would be, how was she always ready for him? Joe rolled around on the office floor in agony, spilling blood; the full realization of his powerlessness coming over him.

He could see a pair of feet entering through the office door, and he didn't need to look up to know whose they were.

"Thank you, Al," Gabby said. She wore a black trench coat and high heels, and looked down at the trail of blood Joe was leaving on the office floor and smiled with amusement. She knelt down next to him.

"Joe, I gave a you set of instructions to follow today. Now what are you doing here?" Gabby asked.

Joe moaned and rolled away. She grabbed his shoulder and yanked it so he was facing her.

"Listen to me, Joe. You are my little slave; just like Big Al is now. You will obey me, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Joe nodded, sobbing.

"Oh there, there. Let me take care of this for you," she said. She removed from her coat pocket a needle and thread. Carefully and methodically, stitch by stitch, she sewed his wound closed, mopping up the blood with the shop rag as she went. Joe winced as the needle passed in and out of his skin, but held still until the work was complete.

Big Al brought a first aid kit, and Gabby used it to clean and sterilize the wound.

"I'll get you some pain killers in a bit, AFTER you've had some time to think about what you did," Gabby said. "For now, I want you to wait in the car while I conduct some business with Albert here."

Groaning, Joe pulled himself to his feet and pulled up his pants. He limped out of the office, one step at a time. He wasn't even out of the room before Gabby removed her trench coat, and dropped it to the floor. She was naked underneath.

Joe turned to stare at Gabby. She turned to look at him.

"Wait in the car, Joe," she repeated.

Big Al stared at Gabby's naked body hungrily. Joe continued out of the building to his car, as Gabby threw herself into Big Al's arms. He could hear them begin to have wild, uninhibited sex as he dragged himself back to his Impala and took a seat behind the wheel.

He stared at his reflection in the rear view mirror, and saw his face was dripping with sweat. He clutched his thigh, still throbbing in agony.

"Why me? Why me, why me, why me?" he whimpered to himself.

He waited ten minutes before Gabby emerged from the shop. Her hair was tousled and her lipstick was smeared, but she was none worse for the wear. She got into the passenger seat of Joe's Impala.

"What a shame. I didn't want to have to do that to that man."

Joe was about to ask what she'd done to Big Al, but remembered investigating the scene of Ted Harker's death and realized he didn't want to know.

"Have some of these, and get to work," Gabby said, handing him a bottle of Vicodin. Joe grabbed two of the pills and gulped them down.

"What am I supposed to do? I don't even know where Grace is!" Joe grumbled.

Gabby sat back in her seat and peered at Joe pointedly.

"While you were sitting here for fifteen minutes like a scared little boy, did you happen to look at what was RIGHT across the street from this shop?" Gabby asked.

Joe's hand, still clutching the pill bottle, dropped. He looked out the rear window and saw a gray Chrysler 200 parked in front of a secondhand clothing store. A young blonde woman with pink highlights stepped of the shop, dressed in recently purchased jeans and a T-shirt, and walked towards the Chrysler.

"Is that her? The chick you said robbed Grace?" Joe asked incredulously.

Gabby cocked her head, and held her index finger to her chin thoughtfully.

"Well, she IS driving Grace Harker's car. Does the detective need it spelled out for him more explicitly, or does he have enough clues to go on?"

Joe watched as the blonde woman unlocked the Chrysler. He jumped from his car, and hurried across the street.

"Hey!" he shouted, holding up his badge.

Bethany Dutton stopped, and looked up at the detective running towards her.

"I need to talk to you!" Joe shouted.

* * * * *

They eventually found the road.

It was a long hike through the forest, but using her memory of the map she'd picked up at the Shady Woods, Grace was able to follow the East Fork River back to Route 1. She and Kayla followed the highway for most of the afternoon, staying in the forest and out of sight of traffic as best they could.

"Mommy, I'm tired," Kayla whined.

"Oh, sweetie, I know, but we really need to keep moving."

"But Mommy..."

Grace looked down to her exhausted daughter. Her pajamas were filthy, her feet were encrusted with dirt, and her young face was drained.

"All right, let's take a minute," Grace said, taking a seat on a fallen log. She opened the cooler, tired of carrying it and happy to lighten it once again. She helped herself to another sandwich, sharing it with Kayla.

"How much farther?" Kayla asked, sleepily.

"I- I don't know. It depends how far down Route 1 we are. I think if we keep moving we'll make it there by sundown. I really hope we do."

"Will the bad man find us at night?"

Grace held Kayla close.

"I'll never let him find us. Don't worry. Where we're going he can never find us. I won't let him hurt you."

Kayla hugged her mother tightly. After a moment, she released her, and peered at something in the woods.

"Mommy, what happened to our car?"

"Oh. It was stolen. By those bad people."

"Why is it in the river?"

Grace realized her daughter was looking behind her. Just around the bend in the nearby road, the gray Chrysler 200 was half submerged in the swampy river. Its tail end stuck up in the air facing the road.

"Oh my God. Is that-?"

Grace took to her feet, and hurried towards the river, leaving the cooler behind. Kayla hurried after her. Reading the license plate, Grace had her assurance it was hers.

"They must have dumped it. Maybe it ran out of gas or they didn't want to get caught with it."

Grace opened the back door of the car and peeked inside. The front seats were flooded, but she could see her purse floating inside. She grabbed it.

"They left my purse. Doubt there's anything left inside."

Grace rooted though the soaking wet purse. Predictably, her wallet and valuables were gone. What did remain was perhaps the most important.

"It's the map!" she exclaimed. Unfolding it, she was overjoyed to find the map, with the path to the cottage outlined in pen. "This is- this is wonderful!"

The map would be a useful guide, that was no doubt. What made Grace happiest was the fact that the map was here. Neil and Bethany hadn't given it to Balko.

Too excited to rest, Grace continued on; her enthusiasm putting a hop in Kayla's step as well. Both of them hurried along, clinging to hope they would arrive at the cottage by sunset.

When they arrived at the Oak Creek exit, Grace and Kayla were able to sneak aboard a pumpkin truck that had stopped at the intersection just off the exit. They nestled in near the back, out of view of the driver, and hid while he carried them most of the way down Oak Creek road.

It occurred to Grace that this was the closest Kayla would get to celebrating Halloween this year. While other children were putting their costumes on and getting ready to go out and collect candy, Kayla was here, hiding amongst the pumpkins. Grace vowed that next year would be different.

It didn't take long before the truck arrived at Harmony road, and while the truck did not turn there, it did stop at an intersection giving the stowaways an opportunity to disembark. Grace led her daughter quickly into a nearby cornfield where they stayed out of sight until the pumpkin truck had driven away.

They set out down Harmony road on foot. As the sun dipped closer and closer to the horizon, and their feet ached worse and worse, Grace had to prod her daughter and herself along.

"Come on, Kayla. We can make it. Not much farther," she assured her.

She recognized the exit immediately. The dirt path did not have a name, but Grace knew where it led. Taking Kayla by the hand, she hurried down the path, knowing her sacred destination was almost within reach.

"Come on, Kayla, we're almost there!" Grace cheered, but the girl was nearly in tears.

"Mommy, I can't walk anymore!" she cried.

Grace knelt down. "Here, climb on my back. We just have a little more to go. Just a little more, and then we're safe. Safe!"

Kayla climbed aboard. She had grown heavier in the past year, but Grace was too determined to let Kayla weigh her down. She pressed on. The road was familiar, and Grace felt her spirit refreshed knowing she was about to return to her childhood sanctuary.

The sky was bright crimson in the west, and Grace knew daylight was almost gone. But it didn't matter. No one would find this place. No one. She ignored her aching feet, and the weight of her daughter on her back. It wasn't much farther.

"There's the driveway! I see it!" Grace cheered. "Let's go!"

Kayla laughed, happy to have a goal insight. Grace hurried down the dirt road, until the cottage was in sight.

It was exactly as she remembered. While the lawn was overgrown, the cottage stood exactly as it had a decade earlier. Grace could picture herself walking inside, and seeing her grandfather seated in the easy chair facing the door, smiling at them as they entered.

She knew her grandfather would not be there now. But perhaps the chair would still be there, a friendly reminder of a gentler time. The house itself was a sight for sore eyes, and filled her spirit with delight just to finally be here. She paused just a moment to rest, and bask in the beautiful sight.

"We're just in time to see the sunset!" Grace exclaimed. She carried Kayla around back, and they could see the rocky edge that overlooked the beach at the end of the back yard, as well as the magnificent view of the ocean. "Aunt Nora and I used to watch the sunset over that ocean all the time when we were little. Look, it's so pretty!"

She took Kayla to the edge of the cliff and set her down, and they watched as the sun gently descended below the horizon. It was a breath-taking sight; Grace thanked the stars she had an opportunity to see it again and share the experience with her daughter. Kayla hugged her leg.

With the sun completely out of sight, darkness slowly creeped across the sky. The crashing of the waves against the rocks below sent a tingle through her body, and she felt a layer of goosebumps rush up her bare legs.

"I guess we should get inside now."

Kayla was too sleepy to respond. Grace took the exhausted youngster around to the front, and together they walked up onto the wooden porch. The wood slats creaked as they set foot, just as they always had. The wooden swing still dangled nearby, squeaking as it swayed in the wind. Grace smiled. To anyone else, this would have been a creepy old house. To her, it was a nostalgic homecoming.

"Uncle Tommy usually kept the key hidden in one of these pots," Grace said, excitedly.

The flowerpots on the banister handrails were filled only with dirt now, but a quick search inside them revealed a key still hidden inside. Grace took the key and slipped it into the lock.

"We made it, Kayla," Grace said, laughing. "We finally made it."

Grace unlocked the front door and opened it. Musty air filled her nostrils. She stepped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. She could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall; somehow it still ticked after all these years. The house appeared untouched; all of the original furniture still stood where it had decades earlier. Even the easy chair, where her grandfather always sat, usually carving something with his pocketknife, was still exactly where it had been all those years earlier.

But the easy chair was not empty as Grace had expected it be; someone was seated there, waiting for her to enter.

And that someone was Lukas Balko.

TO BE CONCLUDED...