Spyder to the rescue

...and just as suddenly, the deafening roar of a 12 gauge shotgun filled the house. The hammer fell...no, the hand fell.. to the floor. "Oh My God!" I heard a voice say. A familiar voice. Spyder's voice! I saw my father hit the floor, eyes blank. Blood oozed out of them.

I saw him walk up to the closest one that was too busy with me, and swing the butt of the gun like an axe and smash its head apart. He kicked, shot, smashed, and shot again until the room was only filled with the echoes of my panting breath and the reverberations of expiring shotgun echoes.

He hustled me downstairs and tossed me in, of all things, a stolen police car that had the front fender caked in gore. He slipped in the drivers seat. I was in shock. I knew that from Senior Phys. Ed. He threw a leather jacket over me, and ripped away from the curb.

"Spyder..." I said, shivering under the jacket. "I...I'm cold. I think something is wrong..." I didn't know if he understood me or not. He only looked at me with the most distraught face I've ever seen, and he gunned the accelerator.

He drove for miles and miles. I went in and out of consciousness. I didn't really know hat had happened. I felt the a throbbing pulse in my pussy that I had to supress when I glanced over at him. I read about that too. "Stockholm" sydrome or something like that. Basically, he had rescued me and was having a response to him just because of it. I turned my head, and fell into a restless sleep.

Eventually, I felt a shaking at my shoulder. It was dark now. I open my eyes, and heard a very loud "Drip. Drip. Drip." sound, and my own breathing. Spyder's eyes were on mine. His face was twisted with indecision. He held a revolver in his right hand, and was stroking my hair with the left.

"Tara, baby, I'm so, so, sorry..." he whispered with a smile. I smiled back, and had a wild urge to ride his cock until I felt my walls tear. My nipples were rock hard, and I embarrassingly became aware that the dripping sound was coming from the leather seats. My sex had leaked a full puddle onto it and it was spilling over onto the vinyl floorboard.

"Spyder, I'm still me..." I said, realizing what he was thinking. I knew he'd risk a lot, but I also knew the stakes had changed.

"For how long?" he said, a tear rolling down his left cheek. "HOW LONG!?" he yelled, pressing the revolver to my chest. I gasped, and shrunk backward.

"Spyder, I've had enough of your shit! If you are going to shoot me, SHOOT ME!" I yelled, daring him with my eyes. I'd had enough of Hell. One way or the other, I was going to get back in the driver's seat and get out of it.