RATING: Adult for language and content
DISCLAIMER: The Bee has no rights or claim on any
of the characters or products named in this story and makes
no profit from them.
SUMMARY: This is the third story in the Rosebud/verse.
Tara has been abducted and the police rush to find her.
The other members of the Circle decide that they can do
a better job and begin their own investigation.
Who will find her first and will it be in time?
Huge thanks to Purpledodah for the amazing banner.
Shock snapped through Tara's body as she felt the puff of warm
air against her cheek. Violently, she jerked back as far as her
restraints would allow, as a desperate, kitteny sounding whimper
escaped her lips.
She pulled and tugged frantically, feeling the ropes and straps
cutting into her wrists and ankles. She tipped her head and hunched
at her shoulders hoping to be able to scoot the blindfold off her eyes,
but it wouldn't quite reach.
The feeling of claustrophobia fueled her terror.
Every muscle in her body ached with the strain of trying to be free.
The rough, wool cover that lie between her and the hard lumpy
bed, scratched her bare arms and legs like sandpaper.
The worst, however, was the smell. The room reeked of the
stench of rot. It filled her nose and mouth and made her gag.
Unable to see it's cause, she could only imagine that she was
surrounded by moldy food and dead, decomposing rats.
Her fear thrilled him, coursing through his body like a shot of
cocaine injected directly to his bloodstream, he felt his adrenaline
match her's and he reveled in their connection.
Kneeling beside the bed, he stared, staying as close as possible
to her twitching, frantic attempts to free herself.
He was jittery.
His cock responded.
It reminded him of when he was a boy. Trapping small animals and
watching as they tried to get away. For a while, it was enough, but
as he got older he began to recognize that something was missing.
Even the joy of torturing and killing them ultimatly left him unfulfilled.
It always gave him pleasure. As a teenager, it never failed to
trigger an orgasm, however, he had always expected more.
He knew there should be more.
Then, one hot summer day when he had just finished off a toad, it
came to him. Struck him with such force, it rattled his very
With a startling epiphany, he realized what was missing. His
victims had no understanding. They didn't know what was going
to happen to them. They simply felt afraid at being captured and
pain at dying but they were cheating him with their ignorance.
Anticipation of suffering.
It was what would differentiate human victims from the stupid animals
that he had been wasting his time with. That was where the real joy
would lie. It had taken him almost a year to build up the courage to
test his theory, but when he did the ecstasy was unmatched.
With the death of the old homeless man, he knew he had found
Now, he watched as Tara continued to squirm and his rigid cock
twitched when he saw the single tear run down from the edge of her
No longer able to refrain, he leaned in and rubbed his face against the
soft, clean blond hair, inhaling deeply before licking the delicious
saline drop from her cheek.
The only thing that would make this more perfect were if she begged.
He couldn't understand why she wasn't begging to be free, to
understand, to have him explain what was happening to her.
The others had begged.
Tara had promised herself she would stay quiet. Years of growing up
under the thumb of a cruel, abusive father had taught her several things
and one of them was that begging or crying only fueled the psychopathic
Still, his touch, his intimacy, and finally the hot wet touch of his
tongue on her skin snapped her resolve. What surprised them both,
however was the tone she took. Meek, mild, timid Tara was mad.
"Don't touch me! Untie me and let me go NOW!"
The man jumped to his feet. This was NOT how it was supposed
to go. She was not showing him the respect he deserved.
Furious, he grabbed the huge, double edged butcher knife off the
bed side stand and stood over the bed.
He gripped the long, smooth wooden handle in both hands and
held it high over her body, directly over her black, wicked,
beating heart. He prepared to plunge.
"You fucking BITCH! How dare you speak to me like that.
I am your fucking GOD! I will slit your throat and rip your tongue
out the hole in your neck! I will cut your belly open and make you
watch as I pull your intestines slowly out of your gut. I will....."
Before he could continue, Tara was startled by the distinct sound
of flesh slapping flesh and she waited for the pain. Accentuating
the fact that she hadn't been struck was his voice, now whiny
"Ow. What the fuck was that for?"
"Because, you stupid idiot, I could hear you clear downstairs.
Do you want to ruin everthing?"
Tara's body went still. It was a woman's voice. A voice that
seemed so familiar that it tickled the back of her mind trying to
put a name to it. The fact that there was a female involved should
have brought her comfort. It should have made her feel a small
measure of safety.
A new wave of cold terror rushed through her veins and she knew.
The man was mean. His very nature was that of a person that had
no love in his heart for mankind. His only pleasure was in himself.
But the woman. The woman was evil and the mastermind of whatever
this was all about. Tara's psychic alarm bells rang loudly in her
brain, rolling down her spine and settling in her stomach.
Immediately she tried to control herself and focus.
'I know that voice.' She thought. 'But who and why?'
"I told you not to slap me in the back of the head. You know
I hate that."
The man's voice now sounded more like a petulant 5 year old.
"Then leave her the fuck alone. We didn't bring her here for
you to play with. Besides, if you get her all upset and burnt out
she might not be able to do what we need. We have almost 6
hours before time so just fuck off."
"So that's it? I do all the fucking work. I take all the risks and get her
here and that's it? Fuck you!"
Tara could hear the woman sigh in disgust and knew she had put up
with the man's moods and tantrums before.
"Oh for God's sake, stop whining. Look, later on, when we do the
ritual we need her skin to be flawless for the first cut, then, after we
bleed her out, if she fails, if she is not the one, you can fuck her body
while it's still warm. Hell, you can do what ever you want with her
but NOT before then. You understand?"
"O.k, but you promise? Last time I got sloppy thirds and that was just
fucking bull shit! Them damn bodies go cold and stiff fast."
Tara was stunned to hear the man's response. 'Others? They had
killed other girls? What ritual?' Her thoughts spun wildly.
Her heartbeat hammered loudly in her ears and her lungs gasped for air.
Although she heard the door slam shut, she laid quietly, waiting to
see if she was really alone.
When she was fairly certain she was, the tears fell freely.