The Runner

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

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Rich Graham leaned back against the bars of his cell and thought about what his life had become over the last two weeks.  He looked at his wrists, which were handcuffed in his lap, and his ankles which were secured by leg shackles – pretty much large-styled handcuffs made for restraining a prisoner’s legs.  The chain between the ankle cuffs was approximately one-and-a-half feet long and allowed Rich to walk but not very quickly.  The two sets of cuffs were attacked by a chain which ensured Rich could not raise his secured wrists above his waist while he was standing.

Rich was completely naked.  Since he found himself in his current predicament, he was either naked or dressed in running tights and a formed fitting athletic shirt.  His current captor liked that look on him and had mentioned it incessantly since his arrival at her ranch/dungeon.

Only two short weeks ago, Rich Graham had been an ordinary guy from St Augustine, Florida, until his life was turned on its head by Kevin Bagwell.

One morning Rich was training for a marathon, and while almost ten miles from his home, he injured his right hamstring and was forced to start limping home.  Kevin Bagwell stopped the semi-tractor trailer he was driving and offered Rich a ride.  Once in the cab, Kevin overpowered Rich, bound him tight and secured him in a storage compartment.  He was transported to Kevin’s desolated home in rural Georgia, where the madman stated he would use Rich as a sex toy until he tired of him and killed him.

Luckily Rich was able to escape but ran into Leslie Ross.  Instead of helping Rich, Leslie had incarcerated him in a dungeon and had been using him as her personal boy toy.  Rich’s current predicament was much better than being at Kevin’s mercy.  Leslie, who was Kevin’s older sister, knew of her little brother’s depravity, but could not turn Kevin in out of family loyalty.  She instead kept Rich’s captivity a secret from her brother and had been enjoying his body ever since.  Now, instead of stringent, painful bondage, Rich had spent the majority of his time in this four-point restraint.  He was fed and taken good care of, but he was still a prisoner.  A prisoner with fringe benefits.  As in they made love at least three times per day, and she kept him naked or in his running attire.

The elevator hummed from the far side of the dungeon, and Rich assumed Leslie wanted her carnal enjoyment for the fourth time this day.  She had mentioned that she was an outcast because of the folks in the surrounding area knowing of Kevin’s crimes, and she was taking full advantage of having Rich locked in her personal underground jail.

The elevator door opened and Rich’s breath caught in his throat.  Kevin Bagwell strolled out with his unconscious sister over his shoulder.  His eyes caught Rich’s and a malevolent grin widen on his ugly face.  He walked to the cell door, produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.  The door clanged opened loudly and Kevin entered the cell.  He laid his sister on the mattress across from Rich and turned to look at the man on the floor.

“I thought I’d never see you again, Rich,” Kevin said.  “I kept expecting the police to show up but as the days past by I figured you never said anything to anyone after your escape.”

Rich got to his feet and instinctively started moving toward the open cell door.  Kevin blocked his path.  Rich impulsively backed up.

Kevin put his hand to his head and said, “You gave me quite a wallop, Rich, when you escaped.  I was hoping I could return the favor.”

Rich backed into the bars on the far end of the cell, raised his manacled hands as far as the restraints would allow and said, “Kevin, you have to understand why I did what I did…”

Kevin took a slow step toward Rich.  “Oh, I completely understand why you did what you did.  I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your shoes, but, as fate would have it, the person you find to help you in your escape is none other than my older sister.”

Rich glanced at the unconscious body of Leslie.

“She’s fine, Richie boy,” Kevin said with a mischievous grin.  “The stupid bitch left your running clothes in the dryer.  I saw them yesterday when I borrowed some laundry detergent.  So today, I came over for some coffee with Big Sis, and her mug might have had a healthy dose of GHB.”

“What are you gonna do?” Rich blurted.

Kevin continued his slow stroll toward Rich, glanced at Leslie and said, “I’m gonna leave her locked up in here.”

Then he looked at Rich, smiled even wider and said, “And, you?  We’re going back to the farm to finish what I started.”

Kevin stopped right in front of Rich and loomed over his naked body.  Without warning, Kevin punched Rich in the stomach, forcing all the breath from his lungs.  Rich collapsed to the concrete floor, unable to draw in a breath as his diaphragm spasmed from the strike.

Kevin knelt next to Rich and produced a handcuff key from the pocket of his overalls and unlocked the shackles around Rich’s wrists.  Rolling Rich onto his belly, Kevin then pulled Rich’s now free hands behind his back and reapplied the handcuffs.

Rich still could not breathe, when Kevin leaned down to his right ear and whispered, “It’s gonna get much worse than that, Richardo!”

Kevin stood up, grabbed the chain which attached the handcuffs to the ankle cuffs and heaved Rich’s inert form off the ground.  The instant and agonizing pain to Rich’s wrists, ankles and shoulders made him forget about not being able to draw a breath.  Kevin put the chain over his shoulder and carried Rich like an oversized handbag.

Finally, able to take a breath, Rich howled in pain.  “God damn you!  Put me the fuck down!”

Kevin ignored Rich’s yelling and demands.  He lackadaisically walked out of the cell, closed the door, insure it was locked and began walking toward the elevator.  Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll be back later to let you out, sis.  After I'm done with your new boyfriend here, that is.”

They rode the elevator to the first floor and Kevin carried the screaming Rich outside.  Rich was unceremoniously thrown into the flatbed of Leslie’s pickup truck.  The hard landing caused Rich’s head to bounce off the metal floor of the truck’s bed and dazed him.

Kevin grabbed the connecting chain again and dragged Rich to the open tailgate.  Kevin unlocked the cuffs securing Rich’s ankles and grabbed a roll of duct tape.  He forced Rich’s ankles together and wrapped the tape tightly around until his feet were secured together.  

Rich’s head began to clear and he said, “Kevin, please…”

Kevin jammed a large rag into Rich’s mouth.  When it was crammed inside, he placed a strip of duct tape over Rich’s mouth and began wrapping the adhesive around the lower portion of Rich’s face.

“I’m sick of hearing your voice, boi,” Kevin muttered.  “You need to shut the fuck up and learn your place in the world.”

After wrapping the tape around Rich’s face no less than ten times, Kevin dragged Rich by his shackled wrists to the head to the truck bed.  He fed the ankle cuffs and connecting chain through a large tether anchor mounted against the truck’s frame, and then he ratcheted one of the cuffs around the duct tape around Rich’s ankles.  This caused the tape to cinch even tighter than it was, anchoring Rich to the floor of the truck bed and put him in a loose hogtie.

Kevin slid out of the bed, slammed the tailgate shut and made his way to the cab.  He said, “Don’t get too comfortable, boi.  It’s a short drive back to my farm.”

Kevin got into the driver’s seat, cranked the truck to life and spun the tires as he pulled away from Leslie’s ranch.

Rich pulled frantically at his bonds but it was a fruitless endeavor.  The cuffs were ratcheted tightly onto his wrists, the tape around his ankles was like an iron band and he was secured by a steel chain to the body of the bed of the truck.  He knew two things for certain.  First was that he was not getting free of his bonds without outside help this time.  Second, Kevin was taking him back to his place to murder him and dispose of his body.

The ride to Kevin’s farm took less than ten minutes, and in that time, Rich did not even try to squirm free because it knew it was pointless.  The cuffs were secured tight, there was no possible way he could wiggle his hands free and the duct tape around his ankles was tight enough that he was feeling pins and needles in his feet from a diminished blood flow.

The truck stopped next to Kevin’s semi in the yard of his rundown shack and turned off.  Kevin exited the cab, made his way to the rear and opened the tailgate.  He heaved his large frame into the flatbed and made his way to Rich.

“Enjoy the trip, boi?” he asked as he was unlocking the ankle cuff that was cinching the duct tape and anchoring him to the body of the truck.

With the cuff unsecured and the chain removed from the tether anchor, Kevin dragged Rich’s bound body to the end of the bed, hoisted him over his shoulder and began carrying him toward the house.  Again, Rich knew it was pointless to resist.  He would have to wait for an opportunity to escape.  Unfortunately, Kevin had miscalculated once with Rich.  He did not think he would get lucky a second time.

An eerie calm came over him, as Rich figured he would die soon.  He was worried about the pain he would first have to endure, but there was a part of him that expected to die the minute Kevin Bagwell overpowered him and tied him up in the cab of the semi over two weeks ago.  This just seemed inevitable and he was ready to just get it over with sooner rather than later.

Rich was carried into the house for the second time in two weeks, but Kevin made a beeline for a different room – one that Rich had not seen on his previous visit.  They walked past a heavy wooden door into a small room, 12x12, with a thick, rusted, metal pole that went from floor to ceiling situated dead center of the room.

Kevin flopped Rich hard down on the wooden floor, as the chain and loose leg irons clattered loudly.  Kevin produced a knife and cut away the tape around Rich’s ankles.  He then grabbed Rich by the right foot.

Rich kicked out with his left, but Kevin deflected it away with an angry swipe of his hand.  He then stood over Rich and punched him hard on the side of his face.  Rich remained conscious, but dazed, and was dragged to the pole by his feet while on his back.  Kevin pulled Rich’s feet past the pole, with one foot on the right side of the pole and the other to the left.  

Kevin grabbed the leg irons and snapped the cuffs closed around Rich’s ankles with the chain on the far side of the pole. Rich was now effectively chained to the pole.  Kevin then pulled Rich up by his armpits and ran him face first into the iron support beam.  With his hands cuffed behind his back, there was no way to deflect the blow.  Barely hanging on to consciousness, Rich was pinned against the pole with Kevin’s body weight pushing against his back.

The handcuffs were removed and Rich felt his right arm grabbed and pulled upward.  Before he could react, he heard the ratchetting of a handcuff again.  As his left arm was being hoisted upward, he looked up to see a set of steel handcuffs secured to the metal pole with an eyebolt.  He tried to pull his left hand free of Kevin’s grip, but had no chance of overpowering the much bigger man.  Within seconds, Rich’s left hand was also cuffed to the pole.

Kevin backed away from his prize, as Rich was barely able to stand and support himself against the pole.  Rich could hear his captor walk out of the room but quickly return.  Kevin kicked off his work boots, removed his overalls and stood behind Rich completely naked.  He applied a liberal amount of lubricating jelly to Rich’s rosebud and kicked his manacled feet apart as far as the ankle cuffs would allow.  He squatted, lined up his already erect dick with Rich’s rear hole and slowly pushed the glistening tip inside.

Kevin leaned into Rich’s right ear and said, “I’m going to fuck you like I own you.  Then I’m going to beat you like I hate you.  Finally, I’m going to kill you like you deserve to die.  I’m going to return the favor and cave your fucking skull in, like you tried to do to mine!”

The tip making penetration helped clear some of the cobwebs, but Rich came fully awake with the adrenalin dump when Kevin forcibly thrust his entire cock deep into his rear. He tried to squirm away but the restraints made that impossible.

Kevin started slowly but quickly built up steam.  His tempo increased and the guttural sounds he was making were getting louder.  Kevin wrapped his right forearm around Rich’s throat and began to squeeze tight.  This action made it extremely difficult for Rich to breathe, and Rich actually hoped that this was the end.  But as he neared unconsciousness, Kevin loosened his vice like grip, let Rich catch a breath and then reapplied the chokehold.

This went on for several minutes, and it only relented when Kevin started to reach climax.  The chokehold was removed, and Kevin clamped one of his beefy hands over Rich’s nose and duct tape covered mouth.  Rich could breathe through is nose but just barely.

The pain from his anal assault was blinding, and when Kevin came deep inside him, Rich actually grunted into the gag in excitement that this part of the ordeal was over…or so he believed.

Kevin only paused and then continued hammering Rich’s rear.  He never seemed to soften in the slightest and the violent assault continued.  For another fifteen minutes, with just one short break to reapply lubrication, Kevin pounded Rich from the back until he came for a second time.

Panting hard, like he had just finished a hard cardio routine, Kevin leaned against Rich and said, “I took a pill, so I could give you what you deserved, boi!”

Kevin wiped his dripping cock on Rich’s butt cheeks, and then he quickly got dressed.  He walked out of the room but hurriedly returned again.  This time, with a new item in hand.  

Still panting hard, Kevin walked up behind Rich and swatted him across the rump.  Pain seared through Rich as he howled into the gag and tried to jump away from the strike.

Kevin held the item so that Rich could see that he was holding a thin, tan piece of wood that was about thirty inches long and about a half an inch thick.

“This is a rattan cane, boi,” Kevin wheezed.  “When I was a kid, my mama used to make me go cut a switch so she could spank me with it when I was bad.  I cut a lot a switches back in the day.  Figured you were bad – braining me in the melon with that spreader bar and all – and you needed a spanking before I send you off to meet your maker.”

Kevin swatted Rich again – this time across the lower back– and he screamed in pain, but it was muffled by the rag and duct tape gag.  Kevin began pulling the duct tape off.  It took a minute or two to unwind the tape from around Rich’s lower facial area.  When the tape was all removed, Kevin pulled out the dirty rag from Rich’s mouth.

Kevin stepped back saying, “I want to hear you scream, boi.  No more subdued cries of pain.  I want to hear it in fucking stereo!”  

The blows then came one after another, from his shoulder blades to the middle of his calves.  After ten minutes of punishment, Rich lost consciousness, but the repeated strikes woke him out of his haze.  He could no longer scream and just hung by his shackled wrists, as Kevin Bagwell exacted some revenge.

Kevin stopped the beating after he was too spent to continue.  Rich’s entire back was a series of oozing red weltsand shallow gashes that seeped blood.  

Kevin unlocked the handcuffs and allowed Rich to collapse to the floor barely holding on to consciousness.  Kevin unlocked the ankle cuffs, rolled Rich onto his belly and reapplied them.  He manhandled Rich’s inert form back up against the pole, but with his tortured back against the metal support beam. He then pulled Rich’s arms up one at a time – with absolutely no resistance – and secured them to the handcuffs.  Rich was now facing away from the pole but still inescapably secured.

Kevin grabbed Rich by the hair and pulled his head up.  “Almost done, boi.  Just one more thing before the coup de grâce.”

Kevin held Rich’s head up by his hair with his left hand and slowly cocked his right hand back.  When he was ready, Kevin fired a powerful punch to the side of Rich’s face, that snapped his head to the side violently.  Kevin let go of Rich’s hair, and Rich went limp, held up only by the steel restraints around his wrists.

Kevin walked out of the room whistling a tune.  Rich knew, thankfully, this was about to end.  He was fighting unconsciousness telling himself that he wanted to see it coming.  He tried to put some weight on his shackled feet and stand up, but the effort was proving nearly impossible. Somewhere in the recesses of his foggy mind, he knew he was probably concussed with the multiple head blows he had taken since Kevin had reacquired him.

With an inner strength he did not know he possessed, Rich was able to get his weight under him and stand up straight.  He leaned back against the pole and tried to take the weight off his screaming wrists.  Where his back was touching the pole lit up in agony, but Rich was able to ignore the severe discomfort.

Kevin reentered the room – holding the steel spreader bar that Rich had knocked Kevin out with two weeks prior.

“I figured that this was poetic and all, Richie boi!” Kevin said.  “It’s been a blast, but it’s time for you to go.”

“Fuck you, you fat fuck…” Rich hissed and then spat a bloody glob of phlegm into Kevin’s face.

Kevin was surprised by the spit and took a step back.  He wiped the blood-tinged spittle from his face and shook his head.  “I’ll give you this, boi, you ain’t no pussy.”

“You’re the pussy!” Rich spat, this time with more vigor.  “Fat fucking coward!  Rot in hell!”

Kevin cocked the metal bar back, preparing to deliver the killing strike, and Rich tried to keep his eyes open.  He wanted to see it coming, but his eyes instinctively slammed shut.  The sound of the blow echoed in the room, but Rich felt no pain.  He next heard the sound of something large collapsing on the hardwood floor.  Rich opened his eyes and stared in disbelief.

“Leslie!” Rich cried.

Leslie, Kevin’s sister, stood there with a baseball bat in her hand.  Kevin was sprawled out on the floor between her and Rich.  Kevin started to stir, but Leslie struck him several times on the head with the bat until he moved no more.

Three hours later, Rich Graham was in the back seat of a sheriff’s office marked patrol car.  He looked at the mayhem around the vehicle and sighed in frustration.  His head hurt but the pounding headache he had been suffering from had mellowed to a dull ache. He was dressed in his running attire – black long sleeve running shirt, black running tights, black socks and Brooks running shoes – which, for some reason, Leslie had brought with her from her ranch.  And, not surprisingly, his hands were cuffed behind his back yet again!

Leslie released Rich from his restraints and had told him she had woken up in the dungeon cell.  She had a hidden key stashed within reach of the cell in case she had ever inadvertently locked herself inside.  She grabbed Rich’s clothing and a baseball bat and jumped into her other truck.  After she had knocked her brother unconscious and released Rich, she had called 911.

Rich was seriously hurting from the beating he took, but gladly accepted his running clothes.  The shirt and tights hurt the area Kevin had worked over with the cane, and he knew the bleeding and seeping would probably adhere to the material as it dried, but there was no way he wanted to be nude when the deputies arrived,

Leslie apologized repeatedly for what had happened and for what she had herself done to Rich.  Rich was too grateful for her saving his life to be angry at her in the slightest.  She helped him get dressed, and then he hugged her and thanked her for what she had done.  

The deputies arrived a few minutes later, and then things got wild.  Not knowing what was going on, and knowing who Kevin and Leslie were, the deputies immediately called for EMS, handcuffed Leslie, Rich and the unmoving Kevin and then called for more reinforcements.  As the cavalry began to arrive, and Leslie started telling the police what had happened, Rich was ushered outside and placed in the back of an unoccupied police cruiser.  Kevin was quickly whisked away by EMS with a sheriff’s deputy along as an armed guard.  Rich heard the ambulance crews say that Kevin was in critical condition with severe head trauma.

His back, butt and the back of his legs were on fire, but he was able to ignore the pain and discomfort because he was alive and finally safe.  He did not want to be handcuffed in the back of a police car, but he knew it was only a matter of time before this mess was sorted out and he would be free, but he did not expect to be handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser for this long.

Finally, one of the rear doors opened and a police officer in uniform leaned inside.  He was older, maybe in his early fifties, and sported a clean shaven face and close cropped salt and pepper hair under his campaign hat.

“You alright in there, kid?” the officer said.

Rich smiled a tired smile.  “I’m ready to be out of this car and free of these cuffs.”

The officer smiled and shook his head.  “Soon enough, mister.  We’re trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on.  Would you mind if I talked to you for a few minutes?”

Rich brightened.  “I absolutely want to talk!”

The officer sat down in the back seat next to Rich and closed the door.  He took his hat off, ran his hand through his crewcut and said, “I’m Sheriff Tom Bodine.  I’m the sheriff of this county and I’m well aware of Kevin and his past.  Leslie has been telling us quite a sordid tale about what he did to you – and what she did also.”

Rich sighed in relief.  This guy sounded like he believed Leslie.  “I can make an official statement whenever you want, Sheriff.  Can we take the handcuffs off?”

Sheriff Bodine made a face.  “In a little bit, Mr…”

“Graham,” Rich said.  “Richard Graham.  Call me Rich.”

The sheriff nodded.  “Rich.  Okay.  Let me get your information.”

Rich gave the sheriff all his personal information – name, date of birth, address and such – and the sheriff wrote it down in a notebook.  When he was done, he tore the sheet out of the notebook, opened the door, handed it to one of the passing deputies and order them to check Rich’s personal information.  He closed the door and looked at Rich.

“If what Leslie is telling us, you’ve been through a lot, Mr. Graham.  I mean Rich!  You’ve been through a lot, Rich.”

Rich nodded.  “It’s been scary, to be sure.  I’m just glad that you’re here now.”

The sheriff scooted closer and patted his hand on Rich’s knee reassuringly.  “No need to be scared, Rich.  We’re here to help.”

Rich smiled and nodded, unsure of what to say.  Then the sheriff’s hand slid off his knee and caressed Rich’s inner thigh.

Rich looked at Bodine’s hand and then at the sheriff’s face.  “What are you doing?”

Bodine’s hand slid up Rich’s inner thigh and came to rest on his package.  “I love your outfit, Rich.  I’d like to take you to the station, so that we can have a more private conversation…if you know what I mean…”

Rich was too stunned to reply.  He could only think, You have got to be fucking kidding me!  How does this keep happening?!?!?!

The sheriff unfastened one button on his uniform shirt, reached his hand in and pulled out a black ballgag.  “I grabbed this from inside, Rich.  Open up and let’s you and me get out of here.”

The sheriff started moving the ballgag toward Rich’s mouth when the door next to the sheriff opened and a female deputy stuck her head in.  “His ID checks out Sheriff.  Mr. Graham is listed as missing from St. Augustine, Florida as of two weeks ago.”

The sheriff pulled the ballgag back and put it back in his shirt.  Nervous and sounding embarrassed, Bodine said, “Right…excellent.  Good job, deputy.  Give me a few more minutes with Mr. Graham.”

“The detectives need you inside, sir,” the deputy said.

Sheriff Bodine sighed in frustration, gave Rich’s crotch a squeeze and winked.  “Duty calls.  Maybe we can continue this later, Rich.”

The sheriff extricated himself out of the back seat and walked toward Kevin’s home.  The female deputy leaned in, smiled apologetically and said, “Sheriff Bodine is an odd bird.  I figured you needed a lifeline.”

Rich released a pent up ragged breath.  “Thank you so much!”

“The detectives did tell me to take you to the hospital to get checked out,” she said.  “If that’s okay with you, Mr. Graham.”

Rich closed his eyes and nodded.  “That would be great.  Thanks.”

The deputy closed the door and got in behind the steering wheel.  She put the cruiser in gear, spun around and traveled down the dirt road away from the place Rich was sure he was going to die in only a few hours earlier.  He looked back toward the commotion and let out a loud breath of relief.  He looked back toward the front of the cruiser and saw the deputy looking at him in the review mirror.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Graham,” she asked.

Rich pulled unconsciously at his shackled wrists and said, “I wouldn’t mind if you took these handcuffs off.”

The deputy’s eyes widened.  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.  I was so focused on getting you away from the sheriff, I didn’teven think about that!  I can stop here and take them off?”

Rich smiled and shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it.  You can remove them at the hospital.  I trust you.  You look safe enough.”

The attractive deputy smiled at Rich via the rearview mirror and said in a flirtatious voice, “Looks can certainly be deceiving, Mr. Graham.”

Rich could see her smile in the rearview mirror and it looked genuinely friendly.  He figured he had been cuffed and bound non-stop for the past two weeks, ten more minutes would not bother him.  He was sick and tired being tied up and secured, to be sure, but he could handle this pretty young deputy keeping him in bondage a few minutes longer.