Deliverance

As Lexie awoke, she was not looking forward to the day ahead. It would surely bring a confrontation with Reese and she wasn't looking forward to that. Stretching to wake her weary bones, the 5'8" chestnut-haired woman walked nude to the bathroom, quickly starting a steaming shower. Under the needles of hot water, an image of her lover flashed through her still fuzzy mind. Reese stood over six feet tall and would easily be classified as every woman's fantasy. From the top of his coal black hair to the bottom of his boot shod feet, Reese was all man.

Running the bar of soap over her voluptuous body, Lexie could feel his muscular yet gentle hands memorizing every curve, every hill, every valley of her trim figure. Suddenly, a chill ran through her as the pleasure was replaced with the pain. She felt his open-palmed hand slap her, felt his hands around her throat and then, felt him ramming his rock-hard cock into her tender flesh. The image of that night, and others like it caused her to scrub harder against her skin with the washcloth as if she could cleanse her soul by cleansing her body.

After her skin was beet red and the water began turning cold, Lexie shut it off and stepped out of the shower. Reaching for a huge, fluffy towel, her eyes caught her image in the steamy mirror. The physical evidence of Reese's abuse was barely visible but the emotional scars ran deep. Briskly rubbing the warm towel over her damp body, Lexie jumped at the sound of the phone. A voice inside her head told her not to answer it but years of submission told her the price for not answering was too high.

Reluctantly walking to the bedroom, Lexie gingerly sat on the bed and stared at the ringing instrument. Her mind showed her Reese on the other end, patiently smoking a cigarette, smiling. Damn him!

"Hello?" she said into the receiver after the sixth ring.

"It's about fucking time you answered, bitch. You're supposed to be out of the shower by 5:45 and you damn well know it."

"I'm sorry, Reese." She could hear him exhaling a lungful of smoke.

"Sorry don't cut it, slut. You better have your lazy ass dressed in the next fifteen minutes or else." The line went dead.

Involuntary tears streaked down Lexie's lovely face as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. Out of sheer discipline, her mind clicked into gear as she dressed. Faded Levi's, flannel shirt, no bra or panties, high-heeled stilettos--Reese's standard "uniform" for her. But as she slipped her feet into the six-inch black patent leather shoes, something in Lexie's brain snapped and for the first time in a very long time, she could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Glancing at the clock, she calculated at least seven minutes until Reese's arrival. Quickly walking to the closet, she prayed it was still there, hidden from Reese's all-knowing eyes. Finding the rectangular wooden box, she breathed a sigh of relief. Reverently opening it, she found her salvation--the Colt 45.

She removed the gun from its velvet bed and carefully loaded it. The cold steel and ivory handle felt good in her hand, as if it were made for her. Wasting no more time, she put it in the drawer of the nightstand on her side of the bed.

As the antique grandfather clock in the hall chimed, she heard the knock at the door as he walked in. God, he was handsome but underneath that beautiful face and inside that fabulous body lurked a madman, a deranged, sadistic evilness the likes of which she had never seen before and, after this morning, hoped she'd never see again.

"Good morning, Master." How easily the ritual words came to her newly liberated mind. She knelt before him, kissing his polished snakeskin boots.

He grabbed her by the ponytail she had put in her hair, yanking her to her feet as he bruatally kissed her, biting her tongue and lips. Lexie fought back tears but knew he would get his soon enough. Ever impatient to posses her body and soul, Reese ripped the clothes off her. She stood before him in all her naked glory. The sight of her unmarred skin, her heavy tits and neatly trimmed pussy excited him and his impatience grew stronger than it had ever been before. Without much thought, he pushed her toward the bed as he unbuckled his belt.

Lexie's body tensed the moment his hands started removing his boots and, subsequently, his jeans. It was now or never. She reached into the nightstand drawer and found the gun, never letting her sapphire blue eyes waiver from him. Quietly, she placed it under the pillow her head rested on and waited. Suddenly, he turned around; she was sure her plan had been discovered but, much to her relief, Reese hadn't heard a thing.

Without preamble, he knelt between her spread legs and prepared to penetrate her flesh. Lexie reached under her head and found her savior. As Reese thrust forward, she brought the weapon out, aimed at his heart and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot was muffled because of the close range of the gun to its target but Reese knew what she had done. He backed away from her, his face expressionless. His deep red blood flowed from the gruesome wound onto her snow white body.

"You fucking bitch!" he roared, his hands going for her throat.

For the first time in her life, Lexie wasn't afraid of him. "It's over, Reese. It's finally over." Calmly, she pulled the trigger again. The bullet found his throat, nearly decapitating him. The force of the impact threw him off the bed where he fell in a crumpled heap, destroyed. Somehow, it seemed appropriate her father should die by mortal injuries inflicted with his own gun.