Free Love's Savage Bonds by Jeb Page A

to sink in. She tried to shake her head “No!”, but his grasp on her
disordered tresses was firm. He smiled into her face, and spoke softly, as
though confiding a secret to her.
     
    “Yes, my dear.” His free hand stroked
fingers obscenely along the angry red mark that the gag made in her cheek. “It
requires but the execution of a few forged documents, which may be purchased at
a small cost... the use of a co-operative clergyman willing to look the other
way for a nice ‘contribution’... and I shall be married to one of the
wealthiest women in the district.” His eyes seemed to devour her trussed form,
making her feel wholly unclean. Her captor leaned closer, his nose drinking in
her scent.
     
    Catherine trembled, numb, tears filling
her eyes. “And, of course,” he went on, his voice laying horror upon horror
with cool amusement “... I will grieve at her all-too-sudden funeral .”
     
    He released her hair, and Catherine,
her gorge rising against the foul gag, flailed her legs, her body at last
trying the desperate escape she should have attempted before she was dragged
into the room. Lefanu barely moved to stop her, delivering a savage backhand to
her cheek. Catherine whimpered into her gag as her wobbly legs gave way, and
she sprawled on the carpet, tumbling tresses obscuring her vision. She made one
attempt to rise to her knees, but felt the sole of Lefanu’s boot on her
buttocks, slamming her face-down into the carpet.
     
    “No, my dear, you can stay there for
the time being.” He put his toe under her sobbing form, and forced her to roll
over, lying on her back, bound arms now dead numb beneath her. His face was a
smiling death’s head.
     
    “And now, we have only to wait until
your precious Charles shows up... how sad it will be, when it is found that
these two brothers finally killed each other.” He nodded to Philip’s corpse,
and to the pistol he had left on the sideboard.
     
    No... No no no no!! This
was beyond imagination! Cad though he might have been, Catherine was filled
with sorrow at Philip’s death… but to imagine Charles lying there, cold, beside
his brother… while this monster had his way…
     
    “You English women-- such fragile
creatures.” Lefanu interrupted her nightmarish visions by going to one knee
above her supine form, and taking her chin in his clawlike hand. “And with the
strain you have been under, who can say how long you'll survive past our
wedding day.” Catherine nearly vomited into her gag at the words, then realized
the worst was yet to come.  “Perhaps,” Lefanu smirked, “rather than take
chances... I think it would be best if we were to consummate the nuptials right
now.”
     
    And Lefanu leaned over the helpless
girl, placed one hand at her breast, and used the other to begin pulling up
what remained of her nightdress.
     
    Now, with everything she had left in
her, Catherine fought. Never mind that the bonds made it torture to try and
move her limbs... that the gag threatened to choke her as she attempted to call
for help... she fought. She felt Lefanu's strong, wiry hands at her thighs,
forcing her legs apart, and tried to kick at him. She received back a blow to
the head that made the monster’s previous assault on her feel like the barest
of love pats. Her head reeled as she felt all strength melt from her legs, all
resistance wither. Sobbing into her gag, Catherine closed her eyes so that she
might at least be spared the sight of the Frenchman preparing himself for the
assault.
     
    “Lefanu, you swine. Get away from
her!”
     
    By the time Catherine realized that she
wasn’t imagining the voice, and had opened her eyes, the Frenchman was standing
upright, and had managed to re-button his trousers. Standing framed in the
doorway was the stolid frame of Major Cathcart.
     
    “Mind your own business, old man.”
Lefanu's voice was level and deadly as he regarded the pistol held in the
ancient, but rock-steady, hand.
     
    “By God, you