Night at the Loose Screw Tavern

Physical violence, or abuse, sexual intercourse (heterosexual), psychological distress

 Just three months ago, I was Dr. Amber Frost, a rising star in the field of quantum physics, on the verge of a breakthrough that could revolutionize our understanding of parallel universes. I'd had a loving fiancé, a beautiful apartment in the heart of the city, and a future so bright it was blinding.

But then everything unraveled.

First came the anonymous emails questioning the validity of my research. Then, the whispers in the hallways of the university, colleagues averting their eyes as I passed.

I closed my eyes, the memory of that fateful faculty meeting washing over me like a wave of nausea. The department head's grave face, the stack of papers on the table— fabricated data, they said—falsified results.

In the span of a week, I lost everything. My job, my reputation, my research—all gone. Eric, my fiancé, stuck around just long enough to help me pack up my office before deciding he "needed some space." The engagement ring I'd once treasured now sat at the bottom of my glove compartment, a painful reminder of everything I'd lost.

For three months, I'd been driving aimlessly, staying in cheap motels, picking up men in cheap dive bars, and trying to figure out how to rebuild a life from the ashes of my former existence. The Loose Screw Tavern is where I met Aiden. It was just another stop on this journey to nowhere. Or so I thought.

The ride back to my motel from The Loose Screw Tavern was thick with anticipation. As I fumbled with the lock on my motel room door, Aiden's presence behind me and his warm breath on the back of my neck drove me wild. We stumbled into the room.

Our eyes met, and I felt the floor shift beneath me. Aiden moved closer, his body nearly touching mine, like a predator closing in on its prey. My heart raced as his hands reached for the hem of my blouse. Slowly, so slowly, he lifted the fabric over my head, exposing my black lace bra and setting off a chain reaction of desire in me that made my head spin off its axis.

With the grace of a ballet dancer, Aiden reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I felt it slip away, the cool air brushing against my exposed breasts. My nipples were firm and sensitive, Aiden’s slightest touch causing me to shiver with delight. I gasped as he gently cupped my breasts in his hands. I could see his eyes widen with desire as he took in the sight of my bare breasts. He leaned in, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue.

"You like that?" he asked, looking up at me with a smirk.

"Yes," I moaned, running my fingers through his hair.

I leaned in and captured Aiden’s mouth in a deep, hungry kiss—my tongue exploring his mouth, teasing and tasting every inch.

Aiden's hands moved down to the waistband of my jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and sliding them down my legs. I stepped out of them, standing before him in only my black lace panties. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down.

Aiden's hungry eyes traced every inch of my body. “You’re incredible, Amber,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on my breasts and stomach, dipping lower to my hips and to my womanhood between my thighs. His gaze was like a caress, and it ignited a fire in me that made me shiver with anticipation. 

Do you like what you see?" I asked coyly, tilting my head to the side—my red hair cascading down my shoulders.

"Like it?" Aiden chuckled, his fingers tracing the outline of my hips. "I can't get enough of you." He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. "You drive me wild."

I stood proudly before him, refusing to back down or hide from his piercing stare. It was as if I was finally free from the shackles of self-doubt and shame that had bound me for so long. The cool air brushed against my exposed breasts and skin, sending tiny goosebumps down my arms and legs, but I didn't care. This was exhilarating, intoxicating.

Aiden's hands moved down to my hips, gripping them tightly as he pulled me closer. He lifted me off the floor and carried me back towards the bed, sitting me down on the edge. He knelt in front of me, spreading my legs wide and kissing the inside of my thighs. I could feel his hot breath between my legs, making me even wetter.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with lust. "You're so fucking wet," he said, his voice low and husky.

I moaned, unable to form words. Aiden leaned in, his tongue flicking against my womanhood. My hips bucked involuntarily, my body responding to his touch. 

Aiden continued to tease me with his tongue, bringing me to the brink of orgasm over and over again. I could feel my muscles tensing, my body desperate for release. 

Aiden stood up, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor. He pulled down his boxers, revealing his hard, well-endowed manhood.

"I want to be inside you," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

I nodded, lying back on the bed and spreading my legs wide. Aiden climbed on top of me, guiding his firm manhood inside me. He filled me completely, stretching me in the most delicious way, sliding in and out of me with ease.

We moved together, our bodies perfectly in sync. It was as if we were made for each other, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Aiden's thrusts grew faster and harder, and I could feel my orgasm building again. I clawed at his back, my nails digging into his skin as I moaned and writhed beneath him.

Finally, with one last deep thrust, Aiden climaxed, his manhood pulsing inside me. I could feel his warm, milky liquid filling me up, and it sent me over the edge. I climaxed, my body shaking with pleasure as I cried out his name.

What followed was a blur of tender touches and passionate embraces. In Aiden's arms, I found a connection I thought I'd lost forever. For a few blissful hours, the weight of our shared mysteries and individual burdens melted away, replaced by a feeling that was intoxicating.

Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, a comfortable silence enveloped us. Aiden's fingers traced lazy patterns on my arm, and I felt more at peace than I had in months. I should have known; it was too good to be true.

The shrill ring of a cell phone shattered our tranquil bubble.

Aiden tensed beside me, but not with surprise—with anticipation. He reached down, scooping up his discarded pants from the floor, and fished out his phone. His expression, open and relaxed moments ago, now became cold and professional.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice clipped and formal.

 I couldn't make out the words, but the voice on the other end was clearly asking a question. Aiden's eyes shifted to mine, and in that moment, I saw something that made my blood run cold: his smug look of satisfaction.

"The Eagle has landed," he spoke into his cell phone, his tone triumphant.

I scrambled to sit up, clutching the bed sheet to my chest. "Aiden, what—"

The realization hit me like a physical blow. This had all been a setup. Aiden, the connection we'd shared, the understanding I thought we'd found—it had all been a lie. I really thought we had something.

Aiden calmly got out of bed and began to dress. His movements were unhurried, almost bored, as if this were a scene he'd played out a hundred times before.

"I'm sorry, Amber," he said, though his voice held no trace of remorse. "It's nothing personal. Just following orders."

Shock gave way to anger, hot and fierce. "You bastard," I spat in his face. "Was any of it real?"

Aiden shrugged, now fully dressed. "Some of the best lies are rooted in truth. Makes them more believable. “She’s all yours, gentlemen,” he spoke into his cell phone. “I believe my work here is done."

Suddenly, the door burst open with a deafening crash. Three men in black suits stormed in, guns drawn and pointed directly at me. 

     Their presence was ominous and overwhelming. They shouted commands with an authority that was unchallengeable and fierce. The world seemed to shatter into chaos.

"Dr. Amber Frost, you're under arrest for treason and theft of classified government research!" the lead agent announced, his voice devoid of any empathy. Hands—rough and impersonal—pulled me out of bed and pinned my hands behind my back, clasping handcuffs around my wrists. The metal was cold and unforgiving. The bed sheet that was covering my naked body fell to the floor. Instinctively, I tried to bring my hands forward to cover up my nakedness, but they were firmly secured behind my back. I was helpless.

There I was, stark naked, Aiden’s milky jizz dripping down my thighs; the cold air outside rushing into the motel room, lashing against my bare skin, making me acutely aware of my exposed state.

 I felt a wave of panic rising as I realized they weren't going to allow me to get dressed. "Well, can I at least put something on?" My voice trembled, the fear and shock mingling with a growing sense of indignation. "Is there nothing I can cover up with?" My words, desperate and raw, vanished into the agents' indifferent faces. "Don't you have something I can cover myself with?" I protested again, the desperation in my tone mirroring the humiliation that washed over me in crushing waves.  

"Please, I'm begging you," I cried out, as the agents pushed me forward toward the door, my voice raspy and raw, sobbing uncontrollably. The metal handcuffs bit into my wrists, and the cold air nipped at my skin as I tried to move my hands from behind my back to cover up my exposed front side, "Can I please get something to wear? Anything?" I said, still sobbing.

But my pleas fell on deaf ears. The agents were indifferent and unforgiving, their faces set in grim lines as they ushered me outside through the motel room door. I felt my tears stinging my eyes as I was herded like an animal towards the police cruiser, my naked body being propelled forward as the onlookers and motel guests jeered.

My face was flush red with embarrassment, and my heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird desperate to escape. The handcuffs clanked together behind my back with each stumbling step I took, adding to the cacophony of noises around me. The agents in their black suits whispered among themselves, their voices like a chilling wind, while the motel guests and onlookers shifted nervously, waiting for their chance to see more.

The cool night air hit my skin like a thousand tiny needles, a stark contrast to the warm security just moments before this intrusion. The eyes of the motel patrons and onlookers bore into me, a mixture of shock, curiosity, and pity. I felt every stare like a wasp sting, invasive and unwelcome. One of the onlookers splashed his soft drink in my face—soda pop dribbled down my breasts and thighs.  

I knew I was quite the sight. My tangled red hair was dripping wet with soda pop, my mascara was running down my face, and my breasts were sagging. My pubic hair looked like 5 months worth of growth, at least. I wanted to desperately cover up my embarrassment. I looked like some washed-up street whore. “Dr. Amber Frost is dead,” I kept mumbling to myself.

"Look at her," someone muttered, a note of pity threading through the hushed tones.

“Nice carpet you’ve got growing, honey!”

“Have you ever heard of a bikini wax,” someone jeered.

“Looks like the carpet matches the drapes,” someone chimed.

"Is it true what they say about red heads?" Another onlooker jingled.

"Should've let her get dressed," another voice grumbled.

I glanced at Aiden. He had a smug look on his face, like he had just bagged a stupid whore. Maybe I was—just a stupid washed-up whore. I no longer felt like Dr. Frost. I angrily spat again in Aiden’s face. “You bastard!” I shouted. “How could you do this to me?” I could see the muscles in Aiden’s arms and shoulders tense as he put on his black suit. He leaned in close and smacked my face with the back of his hand. I crumpled to my knees.

“I said, it was nothing personal,” Aiden intoned, as he forcefully grabbed me by my arms and hoisted me back to my feet. He grabbed my head and looked me straight in the eyes. “Do you know where you are right now, Amber!?” He shouted. “You’re under arrest for treason! You’re done, you’re finished! You’ll never again see the light of day.”

I knew I was in deep trouble. I was at the mercy of the law, and there was nothing I could do but submit to their authority. 

The walk to the police car felt like a walk of shame. Every step was a battle against an embarrassment that threatened to overwhelm me. Instinctively, I kept trying to cover myself with my cuffed hands, but the effort was futile, and it only highlighted my vulnerability and embarrassment. The jeers and laughter of the onlookers seemed to echo in the hollow of my chest, each whisper adding more weight to the heavy cloak of my disgrace.

“What are you all looking at!?” I screamed. “I hope everyone’s had a good look!”

In that dreadful moment, stripped of my dignity and on public display, I felt an isolation deeper than the night around me. My mind raced, every rational thought battling the primal urge to escape, to hide, to vanish from the prying eyes and harsh judgments. Yet, bound and bare, there was no refuge, no respite from the judgmental eyes and the cold gaze of the law.

As they shoved me into the backseat of the police car, the cold, hard surface of the seat biting at my bare bottom, I couldn't stop from lashing out.  

"This isn't right," I cried to the uncaring men in black suits.

Suddenly, instinct took over. My feet shot out like a mule’s kick, connecting with one of the agents with a thud. The agent reeled away from the police car and onto the pavement. The shock of my rebellion momentarily stunned everyone present.

Seizing the brief chaos, I twisted and tumbled out of the car's grip, landing awkwardly on the rough asphalt of the motel parking lot. The night air was a mix of freedom and fear. I scrambled on all fours and tried to get up and run, but the agents were quick to recover.

Before I could rise, a sharp pain jolted across my back—a taser shot that sent me convulsing onto the pavement. My muscles contracted uncontrollably, and my cries filled the air, a wild, primal sound that barely sounded human. My resistance only spurred the agents on, as they wrestled me to the ground, their iron grip unyielding, as I tried to spit and bite my way free, anything to fight against the hands that held me down. 

“Do not resist!” One of the agents shouted.

Desperation surged through me as I realized the futility of my efforts. They were too strong, too prepared for any resistance—as they pulled a hood over my head, muffling my screams, and bound my feet together, ensuring no further attempts at escape. I felt a cold dread sink into my bones.

Lying there, handcuffed, hooded, and bound, the hard, coarse concrete pressing against my bare skin—the last vestiges of control slipped away, as I gave up fighting and began mumbling to myself incoherently. It was all I could do to keep myself from completely losing it. The agents' footsteps, and the murmurs of the crowd, all faded into a distant echo as my naked body was hoisted up and carried back to the vehicle, a defeated and now undefiant captive in the cold grasp of the law.

I was thrown into the police cruiser head first, my ass and back door on full display to all the onlookers who had gathered around to witness the action. The embarrassment and shame I was feeling was beyond measure. The door of the police car slammed shut, leaving the world outside to fade into the darkness, I couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited me. 

The warmth Aiden and I had shared in the motel room turned to betrayal and cold isolation, our fleeting love affair replaced by harsh captivity. As the police cruiser pulled away, leaving behind the echoing whispers and condemning stares, I was left to wrestle with a storm of emotions, none of which any comfort or warmth could soothe. The night air blew through the window, chilling me to the bone, but there was no relief from the shame that clung to me like a second skin.

The soda pop that the onlooker splashed on me, still dripping down my body, sticky and cold, made the fabric of the car seat stick to my flesh. I looked down between my legs and saw Aiden’s milky jizz oozing out of me onto the car seat. Every sharp turn of the police cruiser caused my bare bottom to rip across the sticky car seat. Every bump in the road sent shockwaves of discomfort through my bruised and battered body. The soda pop lingered on my tongue, sour and bitter. The smell of humiliation and embarrassment hung thick in the air.

“I’m going to get that #%**!” I promised myself.

The car ride felt endless, each passing moment chiseled into my memory like an eternity. My eyes darted nervously between the agents, trying to gauge their intentions. They didn't speak, didn't acknowledge my presence, didn’t even give me anything to wipe off with. They just kept looking me over from head to toe, relishing the sight of my nude body and enjoying how powerless I was in their custody.