His Name Is Mugen

I made it to the Rogers' estate without jumping out of the car though I was tempted too do so on more than one occasion. I don't know why I didn't considering I had no idea how to get out of helping Mr. Rogers with his endeavors. The entire car ride he kept glancing at me with this mucky look. It was sickening.

He tried touching my thighs several times but I'd just inch myself closer to the window. I would have probably jumped out the window had he actually touched me and by the appalled look on my face, I'm sure he knew too.

I followed him inside his mansion. It was enormous. Bigger than Tyson's. I don't see anyone or hear anything thing which means we're completely alone. No one would see what he'd do to me.

Or what I'd do to him.

Murder.

I'd never thought about it much. I heard stories about it on tv but never dwelled much into it. I considered myself smart, both bookwise and streetwise. I swore that I'd never be found in one of those situations where a teenager girl gets kidnapped, raped, and then disposed of like some animal.

How the tables have turned on me so.

"Welcome to my home. Mi casa es tu casa." He chuckled trying to lighten my sullen mood. My fears were tearing at my nerves. I could die in this moment from fright. My heartbeat rose. I needed to find an escape route.

"Mátame." I whispered, glancing at the staircase that led to my doom but was the only route I had faith in.

"Oh you speak spanish?" He asked, impressed. I shrugged. I leaned a few phrases from Selena and telenovelas. "I wish I knew spanish. It's a sexy language indeed." His eyes traveled up and down my body as he took a step closer to me.

I instinctively took one step backwards.

"Talk dirty to me in spanish. It turns me on." He took another step forward while I took another backwards.

"Callate la boca."

"What does that mean kitten?"

Oh my god. Gag.

"It smells good."

"Mmmmm. I think the smell is coming from you." He hummed. The bulge in his pants was growing but I could barely tell, fortunately or unfortunately. He was close and I knew I wouldn't be able to over power him. My only option was to run.

So I did.

I halled my ass up all those steps so damn fast that I slipped and toppled all the way back down, flat on my face.

2 fails in one night. The devil is working hard tonight.

"I'd chase you any other time but not tonight." Mr. Rogers picked me up. He's surprisingly strong for his age. "I need to have you. To taste you. Just once without hindrance so behave and I'll be gentle. You have my word."

Oh look, another fucking gentleman.

I debated if I should struggle or not. No one was here so no one would stop me from poisoning him, or biting his weiner off, or smashing a vase over his head. But then again he was kind of strong. He lifted me up with ease so maybe fighting him isn't the best option.

Do I sit there and take it?

I mean it happened before, 4 times to be exact.

Does that mean I should be used to it and allow it?

Isn't that how it works?

I'm not an expert on rape and ptsd!

Okay chillout, I was just asking, my God.

While I was internally debating with myself Mr. Rogers brought us to this dark room on the 3rd floor. He sat me down gently and took my face between his fingers.

"Remember, behave and I'll be gentle. Are we clear?" I nodded slowly. "Good girl." He closed the door and turned on the light. My gaze roamed around the room he brought me to.

Holy shit.

What the fuck?

What in the 50 shades of Rogers is going on here?!

Rows and rows of bondages, spikes, whips, chains, paddles, and other Bdsm toys decorated the room. There was one large spanking table and BPT chair in the middle of the room.

Hell no. Hell the fuck no. Hell to the motherfucking no.

I looked from his toys to him. He had this annoying gleeful look in his eyes. He was proud of this sadistic shit. Like a maniac.

What part of this will be gentle?

I got to my feet. If he thinks it's going to play out like this then I needed to show him other wise. But I had nothing to show him. What could I possibly do to his fat watermelon looking ass.

I hugged myself. I felt alone. Perhaps if I turned my emotions off then I'd be able to get through it.

No you won't. You know you won't.

But I had to.

For my own sake.