[center][h3]The Perils of Abigail Travis - Part 3: “Lido”[/h3][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/UqpTsMZ.jpg[/img] [/center] After Nips slapped her around a bit, they let her be. She weren’t sure how long…long enough tah feel arms an’ legs tryna grow stiff from reg’lar pummelin’s. Also long enough fer her tah seek out that glass ‘o’ water, fer which searchin’ with a bag over ‘er head done knocked it over. By the time they took wise, she’s crawlin’ about ‘neath tha table, soppin’ up spilt water tah suck through tha bag. Tha PB an’ J was a lost cause; when they caught ‘er, it got hauled off after they strapped ‘er back down tah tha mattress. Sometimes she dozed. Sometimes she dreamed. Alana, laughin’ as she taught her how to walk in heels. Hook, tellin’ ‘er what’s fer supper as they put their backs inta shovin’ a big crate around. Tradin’ jokes with Cap’n. And Thomas, holdin’ her tight as they shared their last kiss. The door creaked open an’ she’s wide awake. Didn’t sound like Cottonmouth this time. The clop-cloppin’ of them bootheels was lots heavier. She listened as the fella set somethin’ metal on tha table didn’t sound like no dinner plate.. “Aaaabby,” his voice come all slow an’ sing-song as he trod closer, “how many gun hands are on China Doll?” “One less since yah took me.” The new fella give a good natured laugh. “Well, you ain’t lyin’,” he chuckled. “I’ll see your truth and raise ye one.” She heard tha sound, a clean metallic nick of a blade comin’ unsheathed. “Ever heard the old saying ‘last house on the block?” he asked. Abby felt the mattress shift as his knee come down on it. “Well, little one, you’re there…in my house. They call me Lido,” he purred like a big cat, “and I’m the last thing standing ‘tween your sweet little behind and the airlock.” She could feel ‘im, the presence of the man as he leaned close over her. “Aaaabby, you’re off to a good start with a piece of truth and a little bit of funny, so let me ask you again. How many gun hands on China Doll?” “Got a few.” “Not so funny.” His hand was rough as he whipped ‘er onto her back. Then he’s at ‘er clothes, haunlin’ ‘er tee shirt up tah git a grip at tha bottom. Fer a second, he laid cold steel upon tha flat of ‘er belly. “Aaaabby,” Lido whispered through tha bag, “I’ve got a simple rule. ‘Take a tool out,’ he said as the blade’s flat side prodded ‘er, ‘don’t put it back ‘til it’s been used. So I gotta cut somethin’, right? I swear it’s a di-lemma, seein’ only cloth or skin at hand. And, oh, this skin.” His hand touched her, palm down on ‘er navel as fingers felt their way about. “A few bruises, but fair and smooth.” She felt them fingers workin’ their way up. “What do you think I should cut?” Abby’s breathin’ started goin’ all raggedy as this man’s touch moved onta her ribs like a cancer. “This b-bag,” she stammered. “Cut it off muh head.” That cheerful laugh again. “Don’t think so,” Lido replied, “in light of I heard Cottonmouth uglied your face right up. I can’t bear to look upon such ugliness,” he pulled both the hand and his knife from restin’ on ‘er belly, “when there’s so much pretty down here.” All sudden like come a quick rippin’ sound an’ a rush of cool air as his knife sliced her tee shirt open from belt to collar. Next few minutes felt like hours. Lido shoved Abby face down as he cut tha rest of ‘er shirt away. She tried strugglin’ when he threw hisself on top ‘er, a fight what ended with the hasp ‘o’ his knife knockin’ her in tha temple. She felt his hands on ‘er an’ wanted tah scream. “Tell me the name of your friend,” Lido hissed in one ear as he tugged at ‘er belt buckle, “the one who killed our brother Lip.” “Don’t know,” she’s nearabout whimperin’ as ‘er denims was pulled off. As ‘er brain fought panic, her spy started talkin’ again. [color=FFD700]”...it’s a cruel truth that captured female spies are at risk of being raped…”[/color] He flipped her onta her side. She could feel ‘er heart racin’ while he’s runnin’ a hand up her legs. “Aaaabby,” Lido near sang ‘er name as the knife joined in, snakin’ it’s way up. “You’re lyyyying.” Quick shift ‘o’ the blade an’ cold air raisin’ goosebumps on her bosoms tole her he’d jest cut her bra clean away. “Oh!” Lido heaved an appreciative sigh. “You’re a pretty one! Look how you’re budding out!” [i]Ohgodohgodohgodohgod[/i] jset ‘bout erased all her thinkin’ as his hands took their liberties. “Please, mister,” Abby now wept. Lido was all over her fer a spell, til one arm wrapped ‘er waist an’ hauled ‘er up on ‘er feet. “Aaaabby,” he’s near laughin’ as he pushed ‘er forward. “How many gun hands?” She felt ‘er thighs bump tha table. A rough hand bent ‘er over, pressin’ down hard amid her shoulder blades. “Ten!” she sobbed. “They’s ten. Couple right gunslingers among ‘em, too! Jean-Ann Cuthbert…an’ Blackjack Bob O’Halleran!” Lido had the sort of a laugh would normally cheer folk right up. They’s a music to it could make a body want tah hear it more. But fer Abby, that good natured mirth comin’ as he’s ‘bout tah take tha one thing she had left made it right horrifyin’. “Ohhh Aaaabby,” he laughed as he set the knife down, “everybody knows Blackjack Bob’s dead, but nice try!” “I’ll tell yah…I promise….I promise!” the girl cried as he used a boot to kick ‘er legs open. “Too late! Now I got a new question,” Lido’s voice come silky smooth. “How many men you had, Aaaabby?” “No…NO!! NO!!” she screamed in a way sounded feral. She heard the zipper, felt him workin’ hisself out afore he moved to pull her unders down. Terror…stark cold terror shook her to the core where a rage was kindlin’ all white hot. “NOOOO!” she wailed as Lido’s fingers hooked the waistband.