Mrs Hansen || A Lloyd Hansen Story

You're No Fun.

TW: Proceed with caution.

"Dale around?" Alan asks the burly brunette behind the bar.
She shakes her head, "sorry...he was on shift last night. It's his day off."
She turns her back on Alan and continues drying glasses, stacking them on the mirrored shelves that run along the wall.
"Ah shit.  He was supposed to meet me here with some, stuff."
Alan studies her face in the reflection of the shelves, she arched her brow when he mentioned 'stuff'.

He knew it would be easier to pay her off for Dales whereabouts, he slaps a hundred dollar bill down on the bar witnessing her immediate smirk. She turns around, shifting her eyes from side to side casing for eavesdroppers.

"Dale likes to surf in the mornings, and then after that he goes to the airstrip to wait for...stuff."
Alan pulls his head to the side, "airstrip...do you mean the airport?" Asking curiously as he types into his cell phone, there had been no mention of an airstrip on the map of the island.

"I...I...are you a cop?" Her faces reddens as she starts to panic, beginning to wonder if she has said too much and to the wrong person.
Alan slides another hundred dollar bill over to her, "I'm worse than a cop, and if you don't tell me where this airstrip is then I'm gonna take this gun and shoot you right between the eyes." He flashes the weapon concealed within his black denim jacket.
Her eyes widen, pupils dilating in fear big fat tears trembling in her waterline.  She scribbles on the back of a napkin doing her best to keep her hand steady.
Alan swipes the napkin throwing down one last hundred, "tell anyone about this meeting—"
She shakes her head fearfully, "I won't, I won't."
"Good girl, Rhonda." He turns and walks out.
Thalia chuckles down his ear piece, pleased with herself for getting the information in such a short space of time.
"Laugh away 'Lia, you still missed the airstrip."
"Shut the fuck up Shrek." She bites back, annoyed with herself for not picking up on it.

***
Lloyd and Alan arrive at the airstrip which was hidden well within the dense scrub of cacti and various other vegetation. The perfect place for smuggling things on and off of the island.

There was a small tin shack concealed behind some low trees.

"Dale...Dale Dale Dale." Lloyd leans into him as Alan pins him to the wooden chair, "remember me?"
It turns out Dale is the bartender that Lloyd had a brief conversation with the night before in the bar. The one asking questions about Rebecca.
"Hey man, I didn't know they were going to take her..." Dale holds his hands up fearfully.
Lloyd rolls his eyes, Alan heaving a disappointed sigh.
"You don't get how this works?" Lloyd glances at his right hand man for back up, "he doesn't get it." His exasperated arms flopping by his side.

"I think he might be simple Boss." Alan groans.

Lloyd rubs his temples, "You see Dale you're supposed to say, 'I don't know anything!'" He mocks a pathetic voice, "then we rough you up, possibly kneecap you and break a few fingers. Then you give it all up."
Rage builds inside Lloyd, "you've taken all the fun out of it, Alan...he's no fun." He smooths down his moustache menacingly. 
"You've upset the Boss, but now we've run out of time...so speak." Alan bends back one of Dales fingers, his body shooting up in the chair as the pain rushes through him.
"Alright!!" He screams out.
Alan is bitterly disappointed, he really does give up easily.
"I got a call yesterday before my shift that there was going to be a private jet coming in, they paid me a lot of money man. Showed me her picture and asked me to unlock the backdoor at 4am this morning. Thats all I did."

Lloyd cocks his gun, "Alaaaan...he's doing it again."
"He didn't give you everything, Boss."
Lloyd holds his gun out, "true." Giving Alan a nod.

An evil grin spreads across his face and he snaps Dales finger back as far as it will reach, the loud crunching of the bone echoing throughout the tin hut.
"STOP! PLEASE!" Dale screams through anguished breaths, "ask me...I'll tell you!!" Tears stream down his face mixing with sweat and snot.
"The plane...it came in from where?" Asks Alan as he takes his gun pressing it firmly onto Dales knee.
"I don't fucking know, I swear I don't know."
Lloyd looks down at the makeshift desk, an aeronautical map lies next to a very old aircraft radio.
"Bored now." Lloyd groans with his back turned to the two men.
Alan fires his gun through Dales knee cap, allowing him to fall onto the ground. Lloyd crouches down beside him relishing in the blood curdling howl bursting from his throat.
"Now you're getting it." He laughs into his ear.
"Whats next?"
"Balls I think Alan, testicles."
Dale gasps inwardly holding his hands protectively over his manhood. The fear and pain breeding his adrenaline.
"No! No! Please!" He pleads.
"They were American, it was an American jet...flying to..."

Lloyds jet touches down on the sandy makeshift runway.
"What will I do with the body?" Alan roars over the sound of the engines.
Without so much as a look back Lloyd shout back, "Leave the fucker to rot, maybe an animal will eat him.  Maybe not. Who gives a fuck, he lead them to my wife."
He had tried his best to keep her face out of his mind and treat her like a mission, but it had only been a matter of hours.
It was easy for him to pretend, but she'll always be at the forefront. Sitting on top of a vice of guilt.

***

Not knowing where she was in the world was gnawing at Rebecca, she had spent her hours listening intently to the murmur of voices that echoed around the house where she was being kept, but there had been no indication where she was. Nothing.

Rebeccas eyes fall heavy as she loses the battle to keep them open, she's so tired and the adrenaline that had been rushing through her veins had depleted.
Just as she is about to give in and rest her eyes the door swings open startling her.

"I've been told to feed you." Fox huffs kneeling in front of Rebecca with a tray of food.
Fully resentful of her glorified baby sitting duties.
She holds out a sandwich gesturing for Rebecca to take a bite, but she swings her head away in refusal.
"Fine have it your way." Fox groans sliding the tray to the side.
"Where am I?" Rebecca croaks.
Fox curls her lip, "Don't you start with the fake fucking amnesia."
"No...where am I in the world?"
Fox presses her finger against the clear comms unit in her ear, "Barbie wants to know where in the world she is...y'sure? Alright...what'll I do when its time for her to sleep? Yes sir...understood sir."
She looks down at Rebecca, close enough to see every goosebump on her tanned olive toned skin, "London, we're in London."
Fat tears roll down Rebeccas cheeks, the chances of Lloyd finding her here are slim to none. Has he even figured out shes gone yet?
What about her mother? She'll be waiting on a call to hear all about the first day of their honeymoon.
"I've to put you to bed Mrs Hansen." Fox licks her lips, a devilish smirk hinting in the corners of her mouth as she slides her hands under Rebeccas arms.

She lifts her up from the chair and onto the bed behind them, Rebeccas breast falls out of her black satin chemise, feeling exposed and vulnerable she sobs bringing her shoulder forward to conceal it before Fox can notice.
But she was too late.
"Let me help you there Princess." She cups her left breast running her thumb across the pebbled nipple slyly, Rebecca inhales sharply terrified at her touch. Fox leans down flicking it with her tongue before popping it back inside her top.
She adjusts Rebeccas knees on the bed into a more comfortable position, feverishly smirking at the sight of her exposed anatomy.
She takes a finger running it up the inside of Rebeccas black shorts, brushing her slit.
"Wet for me are you?" She purrs, turning Rebeccas blood cold.
"Please don't." She sobs, clenching herself. The only way she knows how to protect herself with her wrists and legs being tied.
Fox takes her index and middle finger against Rebeccas outer lips spreading them wide, she drives a finger from her other hand deep inside her.

Rebecca had always imagined that if this were ever to happen to her she would scream and fight, but she couldn't find the strength under the frozen shackles of fear that bound her.
"No." She sobs almost silently, "please no."
Fox continues to pump vigorously inside her, nails scraping the walls of her vagina.
Rebecca who was still lying on her side looked for something to focus on while she was cruelly violated, her tear blurred eyes settled on a heart shaped knot in the wood of the dresser that rest against the bay window.
Every now and then a sharp pain from inside her cervix would bring her out of the trance that she had tried to cocoon herself in.
Acutely aware that Fox was now pleasuring herself whilst brutally slamming three fingers into Rebecca.
Whatever strength Rebecca had conserved for when she would try and escape, had now been used controlling her anguished sobs and suppressing the violent urge to retch her guts over the bed. Her whole body heaving forcefully as she prayed for death.

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A/N:
I'm so sorry if anyone has been affected by this.
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