To hell with that

Stunned at the other woman’s arrogance you just stare blankly at her for a long, silent moment before finally climbing awkwardly to your feet; it seems that concern for your modesty had obviously not been high on your captors list of concerns as, save for a pair of dark blue panties, you are naked and are standing in what looks like a small, poorly furnished bedroom. The blue-grey paint was peeling in a few spots, the bed was narrow, and the dresser and bed table were battered and scratched. In the chair beside you, Regina is wearing a dirt-stained yellow sundress with a battered pair of cowboy boots on her feet.

Looking down at your swollen belly, you still feel a sense of horrified disbelief; you press your hands against your stomach, hoping desperately this is a dream. The sense of skin on skin is more than enough and you sag weakly against the nearby dresser, its top piled high with gear; Regina smiles smugly at your forlorn expression “You can see that you have **** now don’t you?”

“Go fuck yourself!” you snarl at her furiously, snatching up a wicked looking hunting knife from the dresser “Do you really think that I would stay with you bastards? You kept me **** me for over a month! **** me who the fuck knows how many times! And now you want me to go with you like nothing ever happened!?” you step closer to her, your body shaking with rage “I should kill you right now you crazy bitch! But I won’t, I won’t because whatever else you did, you probably did save my life when I was passed out in the street” walking away from her, you speak over your shoulder “Goodbye, Regina, I really hope that we never meet again”

Stepping out of the bedroom you appear to be in a small apartment or condo of some kind, at least there are two men are standing in what looks like very much like the single room kitchen-living room design of your own apartment and the view through the large windows behind them is of the sunset or maybe it’s sunrise you reflect bitterly how would I know anymore? painting the upper floors of some bland looking office building across the street.

The two men are staring at you open mouthed when you turn around; the closer one is a fat, pasty skinned, middle-aged guy with a receding hairline and a bushy beard, he was wearing the remnants of a once fine business suit; the other man was much younger, a tall, skinny black man wearing a grey track suit and with a thick pair of battered glasses on his face. The younger guy quickly scrambled backwards as you looked at him; he had a worried, guilty look on his face and you wonder sickly just how many times he had **** you while you were ****, the smug sneer you saw on the bearded face of the fat man made your stomach churn with nausea.

The dining table was piled with half a dozen backpacks, a rather nice looking fur coat and several oily looking pieces of machinery, the machinery meant nothing to you but the coat and supplies... “I’m taking one of these with me” you snarl scooping up one of the pack at random you drape it over a shoulder “and this coat too” you add, snatching up the long fur coat you back towards the front door, clutching the knife in your free hand as you claw it open and step through it. Spying a door labelled ‘STAIRS’ perhaps ten meters away you head towards it, your bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor.

Putting on a coat while walking is rarely easy; it is even harder if you are 4 months pregnant, carrying a knife in one hand and a backpack in the other but you manage; awkwardly passing your bundles from one hand to the other as you struggle to don the thick fur. You actually feel a tiny bit better inside when you finally finish; at least nakedness was no longer one of my many problems you reflect, a hint of a smile flickering across your face for a moment.

“Please! Alex don’t be a fool!” Regina shouted down the hallway “You have no idea what’s been going on while you were sleeping! Or about what’s happening in the world now!” You can hear her take a few steps into the hallway after you “You won’t last a single week on your own, not without supplies, not at the rate that baby is growing!”

As you shove open the door of the staircase you hesitate for a moment; the stairwell is dim, illuminated only by a weak shaft of sunlight from the dirty skylight above you. Your eyes flicker from the dim stairs back to Regina in her sundress and boots, to the stairs again and then back to the buxom Regina. You know in your heart what must be done and your face is hard and cold as you finally settle upon your decision.