AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a little sex story I wrote waiting for the new season of Farscape.

Storyline 2

"R" Rated.

Copyrite © March 2000

Written by N. Hepner/nahcsb

Farscape

Rated "R"

New story. Page 1 is a re-post from old Farscape site.

Archivable.

This is page 1 one of 6. Will post subsequent pages soon.

All thanks to browny.

This is an original story. The characters are fictional and not based on any people living or dead.

Warning: This story is graphic. There is torture, explicit sex and murder.

Note: This is my first story of this kind.

Summary: A famous actor and his wife find out curiosities' deadly nature in this gothic tale. Here terror and horror replace libido and titillation leading the couple into the dungeons of the diseased soul.

STORYLINE 2

By N. Hepner

Robert Thomas Walker the famous actor lies on the bed kissing his equally famous wife Louisa Meg Shibet of 11 years. It's their anniversary and they both want it to be special.

"Let's do our fantasies Hon." Robert says in between kisses. "What's you're fantasy?

"Well, something simple. A candle lit dinner, a dozen roses and freight train sex. Maybe you could go down on me a while. You know, simple?" Sticks her tongue in his mouth, licks his lips. "What's yours?"

"Think, hmm, let's see. I wanna' be my character."

"Aw, com'on, you're that every day!"

"Not with you, I'm not."

"Come to think of it. I wouldn't mind sleeping with Steven for a change."

"Hey! Watch it. You're MY wife!"

"Well, you'd be sleeping with Samantha."

"I prefer you. But I was thinking, it might be fun to enact a torture scene."

"Uh uh!" She shakes her head negatory. "I'm not into that." Makes a face, like it's a bad taste in her mouth. "Straight sex or nothing!"

"No I mean, like tie me up, crack a whip, blindfold me or something, you know, different!"

Afraid he'll lose the argument. "Some type of torture, like my character would have to do."

"Sex is already delightful with you! In several different positions." Looks at him questioning. "Are you losing interest in me?"

"No Honey. Maybe I just need something a little different."

Now she's concerned. Gives him a Disapproving look.

"Gee, it's only once a year!" Thinking he'll never get what he's asking. "Can't we compromise?"

"OK. So I'm agreeing to work on you like your villain co-star?" She stands on the bed over him with her fists on her hips. Strikes a pose. "What's her name again?"

"Don't pretend you don't watch the show!" Looks up at her. Puts his hands behind his head. "I know for a fact that you masturbate every time I have a bed scene with `Samantha'."

"Take that, Steven!" She pokes him in the chest.

Throws his arms in front of himself to protect against her hit. "Ow! Not for real, Meg! Pretend."

"Ok, lets get started now so we can still have my candle lit dinner before it gets too late." Looks as though she's sizing him up. "Put your clothes on."

"Uh, I had hoped this would lead up to sex." Disappointed.

"Oh, it will. You don't really want to stand naked, getting cold while we enact this thing do ya'?"

"Good point."

"Then get dressed. I'll get the stuff." She gets chains, from the garage, a whip from the attic and a knife from this kitchen. She brings in the chains.

"Chains. I didn't think of chains. Why not rope?"

"I looked everywhere. We're fresh out of rope." She stands on a chair reaches up and hooks them to the ceiling. She stands back up on the chair. Waits patiently for him to submit.

Robert walks over and stretches his arms up. Meg wraps the chain around his wrists and hooks it together with a lock.

"You have the key to that I hope. This could get real embarrassing."

Meg lifts a scarf up and over Roberts eyes.

"Hey, what's that for?"

"It's a blindfold. You said to blindfold you. How can you fantasize if you can see me?"

"Uh, OK."

Meg blindfolds him.

"Be gentle. It's my first time." He remarks flippantly. After she blindfolds him he hears something heavy fall on the hard wood floor and a door close.

He is kissed, passionately, his lips, his face, and his neck. Then he feels something odd. A pull on his shirt hurts the back of his neck. There's a ripping sound. His T-shirt is sliced up the front. He is kissed again and again, feeling hands going over his body. Then he hears the whip crack.

"What are you up to honey?"

Suddenly, the whip hits him in the back "Snap!"

"Aaaah! Ow! What did you do that for?" More annoyed than frightened.

"Snap! Snap!" The whip sounds again and again, each time cutting a piece from his shirt and sometimes from his back.

His annoyance quickly turns to screams. "Auugh! Stop! Let me go. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Aaahhg! It hurts! Louisa! You're really hurting me! Meg stop!" Screaming becomes constant. "Stop it! Help me! somebody! God!" Unable to stand anymore, his arms ache as his knees give way.

Some time passes. He can no longer feel his arms, his legs. It seems all that exists is the whip, the crack, the sting, his warm blood flowing down then the small instant of relief before the whip is raised again. He now clings to life through that last instant. He no longer yells but exhales almost a sigh of elation in the interim.

The cracking of the whip becomes silent. His torturer addresses him.

"I've watched you a long time. I never thought I'd get an chance like this."

"It has a female voice." He thinks. He pleads for release. "Please.

Let me go. I never hurt you." Too tired to fight. Desperation shows in his voice.

"Maybe not. But I've longed for you." She runs her hands over him, kisses him. "Carried a broken heart for you. Now I can finally have you."

"Who are you? What do you want?" sensing he may die for his fame and his stupid sex game.

"Not much. Just a little of what you give her."

"Megan. What did you do to her?" Panic raising in his voice.

"Nothing next to what I will, if you don't do what I ask." Puts the knife to his neck. "Believe me, I can do a lot of damage."

He swallows, gasps, "No! Please, don't hurt her!" His assailant kisses him. He recoils.

"Do that again and she'll get a scar to remind you!" His torturer kisses him again. This time he bears it.

"Good! I'll get what I and be out of here." She cooed, gritting her teeth then licking her lips at the thought.

"What do you want me to do?" He feels a sudden tug on his chains.

"I'm going to move you to the bed. And you are going to perform for me." She makes sounds of unhooking his chain. "You belong to me tonight."

His body tenses to fight. Does he have a true hero's blood in his veins?

"Megan. How do I know she's still alive?"

He hears her moving furniture.

"She's alive alright. Just not very talkative right now."

"No I can't. Not until I know she's alright!"

"You think I'm stupid!" Her stress level rising, "I'll call the hospital after I leave here! You're not going to wriggle out of it!"

"The hospital? Dammit! What did you do to her?" He's feeling like there's no way out. No way to save Megan except to submit to this psychopath.

Suddenly he hears a "Thump, thump!" somewhere behind him.

"No way you bitch!" She runs behind him.

He strains to jut his legs back.

She trips over his foot and goes sprawling across the wood floor.

"That's it, she'll get it now!"

"No! Leave her alone! It was me! I did it!"

He can hear her getting up. She stumbles toward the sound. "Please! I won't give you any more trouble. I promise.

"His voice rings as true as his heroic character. The she bitch is appeased.

"Alright, but she'd better be quiet."

A door opens.

"You! You see what I have here! He's at my mercy! I can end it now! One more sound out of you and I'll end it! I'll choke you in a pool of his blood!"

There's a thud.

"You said you wouldn't hurt her! Stop! Or I won't let you touch me!"

The door slams.

"Oh, she's alright Robert."

She re-opens the door. There's a sound like ripping off of tape from someones mouth.

"Tell him! Tell him you're all right!"

There's only a small whimper and silence.

"Now!" The bitch screams.

The next thing he hears scares him more than what he's already endured. A hollow shaking voice, almost unrecognizable. Could it really be his wife? Or this sinister creature's imitation? "I'm all right Robert."

The sound of it sends chills through him and through his chains.

"There, you see? She's fine! Now, no more trouble."

"Wait! How can I be sure it's her? I can hardly hear her." He's suddenly sorry he said it.

"Speak up!"

There's a loud pop like a slap or a hard hit as it connects with soft flesh.

"I'm all right Robert." The meek voice was crying.

"That's enough! Shut up!"

There's a sound of duct tape being pulled off a roll and ripped.

"Be satisfied that I'm not going to kill her!"

The door slams. Long strides cover the distance from the closet to where Robert is chained.

Trying to think he hits a blank wall.

"If I fight her Megan may die. Hell, we'll probably both die. Come on Bob. You're an actor. Act!"

The creature's hands are on his chest. She fondles him through the cut in his shirt. Kisses his face. Embraces his bloodied back. He winces.

"I've longed for this moment ever since I saw you the first time. I ache inside so bad."

There's a scraping noise. A clanking as she unhooks his chain from the ceiling. He falls.

"Come quietly now. I could have done it with you still chained there. She pulls the chain, dragging him to the bed.

His shoulders ache from hanging. When she pulls on his chains, pain shoots through them. He groans. "Aaaagh!"

"I should warn you. I brought a gun." She threatens.

There's a sound of a clip being inserted and the chamber loading.

"I don't even know your name. I should know your name, if we're going to be intimate."

"No. You're name is Steven Carter. Call me Samantha. You don't need to know my name."

Obviously she's a fanatic of the show to be invoking its characters names.

It's a common fantasy for a man to daydream of being raped by an amorous female. But the reality and horror of it now hit Robert as he asked God, "Forgive me for ever thinking it! I love my wife. Please, God help me! Help us."

The chain is pulled across the bed, pulled taught, dragging Robert up from the floor and onto the bed. The dried blood on his shirt pulling away from his wounds. He cries out. "Aaaa!" The sound is empty.

A hand touches his chest, his stomach, his hip, and his thigh. Now massaging his groin.

His head hurts to think of it. Desire for his wife and her touch fills him. He thinks of her. Helpless, he begins to cry.

"Stop it Steven!" accented with a sharp slap across his face.

The she bitch now sits astride Robert. She puts the kitchen knife to his throat. "I'll hurt you if I have to. To get what I want."

"I can't help it." He trembles with fear. "If you care anything for me, for my character or the show at all, please let me go."

"Never! I want you and I'm going to have you. I'm going to kiss you and taste you and lick you and use you as long as it takes to satisfy myself! This is my chance to be with you! You're not going to take it away!"

She unbuttons his pants, pulls down the zipper and slips her hand inside.

"But Samantha. I don't love you."

"Don't say that! You have to! Steven has always loved Samantha!"

"They are only characters in the show. They aren't real."

"You're real to me! I love you Steven! I don't care. That's who we are today, or you're wife is dead!"

Roberts lies half-naked on the bed. The psychopathic vixen now licks him relentlessly to give him an erection.

His tears now soak his face, ears and flow onto the bed. "All I have to do is wait and she will leave." He thinks to himself. "At least she doesn't stink." Then thinking, "She'll kill us no matter what I do. I have to escape. I can't do this."

In the middle of thinking she mounts him and begins the rhythmic stroking he hopes will satisfy her and give Megan her freedom.

"Oh God, forgive me." He says in horror as he realizes the sensations are pleasant. And feeling better all the time.

"Oh Steven. I love the trembling. I think I love your tears too. It feels so good. Aahhh!" She begins rhythmically sighing with her stroking. Suddenly she stops "God, I've gotta' taste you." she stops and places her mouth on him.

Robert feels all self-control is being ripped from him. With his last ounce of strength he thinks. "Oh, please stop! It can't be happening! I can't do this! God help me!"

"Oh, you taste so good Steven!" she re-mounts him and begins stroking him again. "See Steven. You do love me. We belong together."

His chains rattle as she does her dance. Robert feels pain, his back, his arms, his mind. His penis aches then throws with intense pleasure. His mind vacillates between pain and willingness. Will he give in to the pleasure? Something tells him that if he does he'll never forgive himself, disgusted with himself. But his instinct says to give in. Give in to her, or die! His body is alive with the moment and begins to resonate in the joining. "Stop! Please stop!" he says, as much to his own weakness as to his assailant. "How can I love you when you're raping me? Please Samantha if you love me stop! Stop!"

"Shut up!" She kisses his tears, his mouth.

He turns his head, "Please, Samantha, stop." Oh, but he doesn't want her to stop. His mind is closing down. This feeling replaces all thought. His erection and the intense pleasure in it melts the pain in his body and aching mind. Pleasure replaces all. His loathing no longer exists. Suddenly the angst hits him. "Aaaa!" A flood of utter and complete pain, loathing and aching fills every muscle, every bone. Every thought and feeling is self-hate. Excessive anger at his weak will. "Get off me! Quit it!"

Again he feels cold steel at his throat. "Think of the bitch in the closet before you speak again!" She presses the knife into his neck. "I'm staying on top until I finish."

Suddenly he feels it. She trembles and sends such a sensation through him that he comes. They come together.

Such sighing she gives as she collapses on his neck and embraces him. If he ever hated himself, it was now. "Oh God, let it be over!" He thinks with such intensity that it strikes him like a knife.

Page 6.

He lies there with her on him waiting.

"Please, God, let Megan be OK!" The thought is like a cure for his guilt. Intense self-loathing is replaced by hope she can be saved.

Slowly the pain and weight of the chains and his cut back become oppressive. He thinks. "If I say anything, she may get angry again.

We've finished. If I'm quiet, she'll go. I have to be quiet. Oh, God! Get off of me! Get yourself off me you whore!" In pain, he can't help but start to squirm.

"Very satisfying, Steven. Now tell me that you love me." Suddenly again the knife is in his neck. "Say it!"

The knife feels like it's cutting, pressing against bone in his jaw.

"I will if you let us go." Robert begins to realize that this nightmare may only be the preamble to death for them both. If he doesn't negotiate their release now they'll be dead by tomorrow. "God, help us!" His thoughts become panicked. He shouts, "Let us Go!"

"When did you become a man?"

He could almost feel her grinning at his defeat. She knew that he'd come inside of her. How could he hide it?

"Now say it! Say that you love me!" She pulls the knife across his chest. Pressure with a sharp razor-like sting. He winces and shouts, "Aaa! Stop it! You said you'd let us go after you satisfied yourself. You have! So go!"

"I think you liked it. I think you want me to stay."

Her breath is hot on his face her kisses, hot and wet. Suddenly, he can't breathe. His level of fear doesn't register yet.

"How do I get rid of this bitch!" He thinks. "We're going to die here! Me under her and Megan in the closet!" He's angry: Angry and disgusted. "Get off of me!"

"Say you love me Steven! Or die!" There's an explosion.

"Aaaagh!" He screams. His ears are ringing.

"That was just a warning! The next one won't be!"

He can smell gunpowder, so potent that it burns his nostrils. The bitch fired the gun next to his head!

"What the hell are you doing? You got what you want! Now let me go!"

This maniac could blow his head off and any second and not flinch!

"No! Did you forget about the closet? Someone is waiting for us to finish. We're not finished until I say we are!"

"I love you! Now get off!" He yells. All the time thinking "Megan! God, she may already be dead! She hasn't made a sound in all this time."

"No. Say it like you mean it." She rubs up against him. She slips across him from sweat, vaginal juices and his sperm.

He is reminded of the depths of her depravity. If he doesn't convince her to leave, she'll rape him again. This was her plan all along to rape him and kill his wife. His desperation overcomes his anger. "I love you, Samantha." He laces it with all sincerity in his desperation to save Megan. He'd say anything, do anything to save her. Suddenly there's another explosion!

"Aaaai! God! Don't shoot me! I did what you want!" Robert feels hot liquid running down his chest. It is a curious sensation. But there is no pain.

PAGE 7
CONCLUSION

The bitch is still on him. She had enjoyed his torture and his rape. Now it would end with him bleeding to death.

His trembling can be heard in his chains. Earlier he felt that he would drown in his own tears, now they would not come. His suffering would continue as long as he still had life for her to torment.

His wife would die because of his failure. Robert knows he's done everything that he can. They were still going to die. He no longer had hope of living the day.

He thinks: "I should never have let her touch me! I should have found a way to fight her! Screamed until she got off of me! How could I let her do this to me? I should have made her kill me instead!"

His mind feels tortured; burning with all he could have done should have done to stop her. He feels the taste of his own vomit. He has to choke it back or asphyxiate. His soul feels the loss of all that was precious in life.

"I'll never see my kids again, my family. Megan, I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry for doing this to you. I'm sorry for everything."

Terror fills him. His heart pounds in agony. His blood pumps violently filling his body with pain. His very soul courses with sharp stabs of defeat. What few moments he had left would be gone soon. He doesn't care anymore.

He yells: "God damn it! If I'm going to die then get off of me you bitch!"

Finally she rolls off of him. For the first time he can breathe. Maybe there is hope. He says a quick prayer that it's not too late. "Please God get us help; The hospital. She said she'd call the hospital." The weight and pressure is released from his wrists as his chains are removed. The sound is welcome but hurts his ears as they fall terrifyingly to the floor. Robert rubs his wrists and tries to sit up.

He's too weak from loss of blood. What if this bitch turns on him again? He hasn't the strength to fight her. His fears rise again that it's some kind of trick.

"Are you letting us go?"

Robert hears the tearing off of tape. His wife was being released! He pulls off his blindfold to see. Did she survive? Is she alright?

Megan stands over him. Gun in her hand.

The she bitch is lying next to him on the bed. A chunk of her head is missing.

He's covered in her blood.

He looks up.

"God! Thank God! Are you OK? Megan, you're OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. But you look like hell."

He looks yet again at his torturer's cadaver. He holds his breath and stares fixated at the death wound. Its dripping misshapen form giving way to the shot meant for him. The deathblow that was to be his had struck her with good measure. It seemed the right form for this evil incarnate to appear--Normal for her. He found himself searching for signs of life. A horror like her had to still be alive just from its pure evil. There is no movement. Her arm is pinned back beneath her. She is hideous.

Robert swallows. His breath begins to come in quick gasps. Trembling he covers his mouth in horror. The twisted shocking countenance of her face reflected the grotesque that she was and the terror he had endured these endless hours at her hands. Her blank soulless eyes stare emotionless toward a God who was absent in life but judged her in death.

At last, certain that her death was final, he covers his face with his hands and shaking, cries. He wipes his face. Trembling he breaths a sigh of relief. Robert turns his head and smiles weekly at his wife. "Good shootin' Hon!"

"I was motivated not to miss." She says with resolve.

He wipes his tears, clears his throat. "What took you so long?"

She throws the gun and a piece of tape on the bed. "That's the last time I buy that crap!" She rubs her wrists. "If she'd tied me with rope I would have been free hours ago!"

"I was afraid you were dead."

"I was probably next, after you."

"You look like the avenging angel." He tries to get up again. "Look what she did to my back." Opts for one elbow instead. "Thanks for savin' my ass."

"It doesn't look like I made it in time for that." She looks down at him and gives a vacant look at the bed. "However, I did save your life." Puts her fist on her hip. "You really owe me for this one Robert!" She says angrily.

"Help me up will ya'?"

She extends her arm and helps him up. For the first time, she feels his trembling as her own.

"You're like ice!" Megan goes to the closet and gets a clean blanket.

Robert sits on the edge of the bed and pulls on his pants.

Feeling inept in her duty to comfort him, she ever so gently wraps his shoulders in the blanket. Megan kneels and clasps Robert's hands. She holds them quietly until he looks at her and smiles. She tells him: "I think I'll wait until our next anniversary to ask for my fantasy. In the mean time let's give the cops a chance to clean up this mess." She looks at the dead body. Reaches for the phone and keys 911.

End