Disclaimer: This story has a LOT of sex. If you are under 18 please do not read and I am giving you this warning now because I don't want anyone to be unpleasantly surprised. If you do not like BDSM (Specifically Non-Consensual Consensual [Acting like it isn't consensual but it really is.] Rape, Beating, Bondage, Tentacles, Devices, Sadism, Masochism, Interrogation, Knife Play, Hypnotism, or anything else that is along those lines) DO NOT READ THIS! I REPEAT! IF YOU DON'T LIKE THOSE THINGS OR ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT READ! In addition to this I trust now that I have warned you that you won't repeat me.
It was a warm spring day and Charles sits as usual, typing away at his computer. He has just started a story based on a character resembling himself, a fight club, and more, and he is deep into it. Keystrokes fly and music blasts from his speakers. He had been like this, hunched over his keyboard, staring almost zombie-like at the screen for days. All of his friends that he usually talked to over the Internet and in person were away on vacation, grounded, or had just disappeared and so he sits lonely waiting for them to return. It is all he can do to drag his lonely self out of bed in the morning and sit typing away feeling desperate for company, and hungry for food as he was currently living off of the pop-tart boxes his mother had left for him after leaving the house forever two weeks before.
"Click."
"Click, Click, Click."
"Click, DING-DONG, Click, Cli..."
He looks around puzzled quickly switching off of Wattpad and pausing his music, a custom Night-Core mix his now ex-girlfriend had created for him months before. 'Was that a doorbell?' He wonders. Looking around and shifting his ear to the side he waits expectantly for another sound. Right as he begins to turn back the sound goes off again.
"DING-DONG!"
That was definitely a doorbell. But who could it be? No one ever visits Charles besides his friends. So who?
Standing up from his chair he curiously stumbles towards his door and out into the hall. Walking down the stairs and around the corner he reaches the door. While reaching towards the doorknob he notices his reflection and state of appearance in the stain glass Window covering two-thirds of the door. Quickly straightening his hair and adjusting his shirt's collar, he again grabs the knob and this time presses down the release opens the door. Adjusting his focus to the glass screen door, he looks into the eyes of a brown haired girl.
"Cat?" He mutters confused. What is Cat doing here? Doesn't she live somewhere in Minnesota? What is she doing in Vermont?
"Hey Charles... Can I come in?" Her voice calls through the thin door sounding weak. And that is when I notice. Make-up smudges down the length of her small cheeks. Her eyes are slightly watery and watching, I notice the water pool up and spill over the edge leaking quickly down the side of her nose. She wipes it away with a large baggy sweatshirt sleeve and looks into my eyes pleadingly.
Snapping back to reality, I jolt into action opening the door and ushering her in. "Yes please come in Cat. Sorry I look like such a mess, I have just been wandering around writing and paying no attention to my sense of self, no one is home, where have you been?" Walking over to the dryer I pull out a shirt from a few days before; the last time I had run the wash. Slipping it over my head I walk over and take a seat at the kitchen table, ushering Cat to sit.
"Well that's just the thing Charles umm... Well I kinda... I ran away. From town, from home, from everything. I just couldn't deal anymore." She manages to stutter out before bursting into tears and covering her face with the sleeves that swallow up her hands.
Placing one hand onto her shoulder I use the other to touch her hands lightly and drag them down to her lap while threading my fingers into her palm. "What happened? What are you running from?"
"I umm... Well you are going to think bad of me because it but, I ran into a little trouble with the police." Sniveling she breathes shallowly and tries to catch her voice. "I was protesting against Cat cruelty because a company was testing new drugs on felines, and being the leader of the protest and the fact that it escalated into a full scale riot causing thousands of dollars worth of public vandalism I am wanted by the police and I just don't know what to do I was just trying to help! I don't know what to do!"
"Okay. Okay come here." I respond as comfortingly as I can manage, grabbing your head and pulling you into my chest. My palm gently strokes her silk black hair as I feel her tears start to soak through my shirt onto my chest. "It is okay Cat. It'll be okay. I promise I will take care of you." I stroke her back as she continues to cry, nuzzled into my neck and shoulder.
After a short while, her tear ducts run dry and she looks up into my eyes. Placing my hands on her shoulders I look back and ask her, "How long have you been on the run?"
"About two weeks now. When I woke up the next morning I realised that the riot had escalated after I left. There were news reports all about it on the television and my mom rushed into my room in the morning freaking about it because I was the organizer of the peaceful part of the protest. After a week of just sitting scared it finally came out on CNN that I was the leader of the riot and any information regarding my location or anything of the sort was to be reported to the police immediately. My mom knowing that I would never start a riot frantically started preparing things for me and sent me off to find my way out of this mess. You are the only one that I could think of." Beginning to tear up again at my shocked expression she begins to stand. "I'm sorry this was a bad idea, I put you in danger. I will go."
Clutching her shoulders I shove her back into the seat. "No. You are staying. I will take care of you." I respond with my face set in stone. "I won't let you go back out there where you might get caught. I won't have you executed. You are too cute for that." Standing up I begin to pace towards the fridge. Opening it up I retrieve Strawberry Jelly and Milk. Collecting Peanut Butter and Bread from the pantry I begin to assemble her meal. "You have been on the road for half a month. You must be starved. Here." Finishing up pouring the milk I carry two sandwiches on a paper towel to the table and then deliver the Milk. Returning once again to the pantry I carry the chips to the table and sprinkle a handful onto the side.
As I watch her begin to devour the sandwiches on the table I ponder the way that I am going to do this. 'I could build a secret room in the attic...'
"MMM! FUCK CHARLES! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU LEARN TO MAKE SANDWICHES LIKE THIS?!"
I ignore her as I focus on how we are going to get through the next couple of days. I need a failsafe incase someone shows up at the door. 'I can take her food at three times during the day, through a small hole. We should only need to be on red alert for a few weeks. After that she should be able to live freely, however I still will need a disguise in case the cops show up.'
"SERIOUSLY CHARLES! HOW THE HELL DID YOU DO THIS?!!!!"
'Maybe an FBI agent? I don't know. I will figure it out eventually. And I am going to need a wood or a finish that matches the attic's. Perhaps I will make a run to the Home Depot after she is done eating.'
"My god charles. Can I have some more?"
"Huh what?" I ask glancing over curiously. "Did you say something?"
"I asked if I could have some more." She responds with a ferociously wanting expression painted across her face.
"Sure. I will get you some... McDonalds when I go out. I need to get some lumber for your room."
"Lumber for what room?"
Looking back at her, I meet her curious gaze and stare back with a blank expression. "Lumber for your room in the attic. You can't just lay about. You need to hide for a week or two just in case the cops follow you here."
"Oh... Okay..." She responds her tone still full of puzzle and curious. "So what do I do after that?"
Shrugging my shoulders I grab my coat from a chair and pull out my keys. "I guess you just come down and live with me. My parents don't live here anymore so I could get you set up in their room or the guests room. And then I suppose you would just go about life like you would." Trotting to the door I look back at her. "When you are done cleaning up, go upstairs and into the room on the left. Just wait in there and watch TV or something until I get back. I won't be long." and with that I walk out into the night air.
"Damn. What have I gotten myself into?" I wonder as I step into my car and turn the keys.
