Redemption by Spidercrawlus
As she lay there in a crumpled heap, the moans of agony growing more and more faint, a feeling of peace swelled inside the mastermind of her destruction. A placid emptiness filled his soul, as though the demon that haunted him had been exorcised and purged from its existence. I'm getting ahead of myself, let me take you back to the beginning, a tale of two lovers who should have never been, but as we know in life, some things can never fully be explained.
Trent was a normal, easygoing guy. He was nothing spectacular in looks or achievement, but he was probably better than average, without an enemy in the world. He was a successful computer programmer for a good company in Chicago. He made a good salary with great benefits, drove a nice car, and owned his own high-rise condo with a view of the city. He was never what you would call a Casanova, but he had his share of relationships through the years, mostly with attractive women. Nothing seemed to work out, and he didn't seem to be bothered by the single life, figuring he was still relatively young at 32 and something would eventually come his way. He never figured on Sonya.
Trent met Sonya at his office Christmas party. She came with Julie, who worked in marketing and several months later would move to New York for a better position with another company. There was just something about Sonya, that to this day, Trent can't figure out. It was like she put some strange spell on the poor lad, one that would lead to absolute misery. Sonya was about the same age as Trent and worked for an advertising agency. She seemed refined and educated and made a comparable salary as Trent. Born and raised on a tobacco farm in West Virginia, Sonya always yearned for a better life. Although her family was well off, she always looked down on them as being uneducated and not members of the social elite. This is something she always wanted and carried the essence of being owed a lavish lifestyle. Sonya was very attractive, although not an eye-popping stunner. She was somewhat petite, about 5'3", and 107 lbs. With straight, shoulder-length auburn hair and bright green eyes, it was clear she had Celtic blood flowing through her.
After a few cocktails and small talk about everything from the weather, the stock market, and the Cubs, Trent felt a magnetic attraction to this woman. Her cologne mesmerized him, drawing him closer as if he were in a trance. He was thrilled when Sonya produced her business card and wrote her home number on the back of it, inviting him to call for a future date.
They started seeing each other more and more frequently, and by all appearances were a couple. They went to both of their company functions together, went to museums, and when summer came they went to Cub's games and rode their bikes around the lake. They spent a great deal of time at each other's places and had a very active *** life. Although they seemed to be mutually smitten at heart, Sonya's dark side started to surface. Trent wondered why she didn't have any close friends, only acquaintances. She didn't talk to her family much, and was extremely jealous and mistrusting of Trent, although he never gave her any reason to be.
She also had a problem with the bottle. She didn't handle her alcohol well and would become belligerent and mean-spirited when she had a few too many, which became more and more often. She would belittle Trent, finding every little fault she could dig up, from physical appearance to why he was passed over from a promotion. Nonetheless, she would always sober up and Trent would blow it off until the next episode.
This went on for around a year, and there were a few talks of possible marriage and even moving in together, but nothing ever materialized. And then the day came, the day the bottom fell out of Trent's world, the day he felt everything crumble. He noticed Sonya had been a little distant for a couple of weeks, but since she was so moody he didn't pay much attention to it. He had just arrived home from work when he called and got her answering machine. By 10 o'clock she still hadn't called back, so he drove over to her house, worried that something might have happened to her. She wasn't there and didn't answer any of his pages as well. He stopped at an eatery on the way home, starving since he hadn't had any dinner yet, and ordered something to go while he tried to page her once again.
He was becoming a little frantic on the inside as he walked to his car, as strange as this woman could be sometimes; this wasn't like her at all. As he passed a pub on the street where he parked, he got the answer, the answer that would throw his life in turmoil. He couldn't explain, that feeling, but something told him to look inside the window of that pub, and as he gazed through the sparse crowd of mid-week revelers, he saw his Sonya, standing near the bar holding hands with another man. He couldn't believe it. This is the last thing he would have expected. But there she was all smiles and laughter with someone else. Trent threw his dinner in the trash outside, where two homeless men immediately pounced upon it, celebrating their newfound feast. Trent walked up and stood behind the couple, the gamut of emotions running through him.
When Sonya turned and saw him, she didn't even bat an eyelash or look guilty. In fact, a devious smirk creased her face as she turned to the guy holding her hand, the guy with the $2000 suit and the diamond Rolex, and said, "This is Trent, my ex-boyfriend, the loser, the biggest mistake I ever made".
The man looked Trent up and down and sarcastically giggled to himself as he extended his hand and said "Hello, Trent, I'm Ross Jorgensen".
Trent just stood there, with a hollowness he had never felt before. It was like someone just kicked him in the gut and took his very soul away. What had he ever done to deserve this? If she wanted to see other people, why didn't they just break up like adults? Why did she have to flaunt this rich suitor in his face and ridicule him like that? Trent silently turned and walked out the door, past the lucky and now full homeless guys, and drove home. He was stunned and defeated.
Trent expected the phone to ring the next day or the day after that at least, with an apology and an explanation. He figured when she sobered up she would come running to him, begging for forgiveness and pleading with him to be with her. The call never came. There were no e-mails, no letters, nothing. He had only cried once in his adult life when his beloved grandfather died, but he more than made up for lost time, uncontrollably crying himself to sleep night after night. As time went on, his sorrow turned to anger, and the mild-mannered Trent found himself thinking evil thoughts. He wanted to get even with this horrible woman, the one who confided in him, leaned on him for advice and direction, the one who shared his bed for oh those many nights.
The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, and on the outside, Trent appeared to be normal and adjusted. He was dating again, most of the women were more attractive than Sonya, and they certainly treated him better. But now his trust was gone, and he was only socializing for the sake of appearances, so nobody would know his true obsession---revenge on the woman who turned his loving heart into a cold, emotionless well. It had been almost a year now since the dreaded event, and a plan had been devised and was about to come to fruition. Trent played in a softball league, and he noticed that as night fell and the games concluded when all of the yuppies in their SUV's and European sports cars vacated the park, another element would arrive. Young gang-bangers would congregate in the parking lot until the early morning. Drinking beer, smoking pot, listening to loud music blaring out of their low-riders One night Trent took his time leaving, and with no hint of fear or apprehension, he approached one of the youngsters. He had watched the group on several occasions, and he gathered that this young man was pretty high on the totem pole, if not the leader of his crew. The kid's name was Carlos, and although he had a tough appearance, heavily tattooed with two gold front teeth, he had certain civility about him, the way he clowned with his friends and even waved at Trent as he left one night. The computer programmer with the tortured soul approached the kid, introduced himself and got quickly to the point. There would be money, a substantial amount of money if Carlos could arrange for a "job" to be done. The young gangster laughed with an easy understanding of the situation. Although Trent didn't give too many details of why he wanted this done, the kid from the street could see the possession in the man's eyes. Trent wanted Sonya hurt. He made it clear he didn't want her bumped off, but he wanted her to feel physical pain comparable to the emotional devastation he had endured. He wanted Sonya to feel a real gut pounding, to experience that lifeless feeling on the inside, when your entire world is suddenly turned upside down.
Carlos was receptive to the offer, but because of some kind of gang honor code, he had to have women do the job. He said he had no problem with a woman getting a good beating, but unless it was a girlfriend or a female relative, males in his world were forbidden from harming a woman. Trent agreed, and said as long as it got done, he didn't care who did it. The plan was put into motion; Carlos did some spying on Sonya and tracked her every move. She was no longer with her rich guy, or apparently anyone else, as all she did was work and go home. She often worked late, and by the time she left there was nobody around in her building, and she parked on a lower floor in the garage.
Perfect! This was a perfect place to carry out the hit. Trent wanted, had to watch, but he couldn't run the risk of getting caught. The girls were going to make it look like a mugging, so Sonya would have no idea where it came from. There was a stairwell next to the elevator, and this was going to be Trent's observation post. Carlos dropped him off several blocks away, and under the cover of night, Trent slipped inconspicuously into the garage. He was wearing dark sweats with a wool cap pulled over his brow. He looked like a cartoon character in the French Navy! It seemed like an eternity went by when the doors of the elevator opened. The clicking of high heels on the concrete floor of the garage echoed off the walls and a faint, familiar scent wafted in the stale air. Oh yes, it was her! She wore a short black skirt that stopped well above her knees, and her black nylons were tightly clinging to her shapely legs. She had on silk, dark green blouse and carried a leather briefcase. Trent was full of passion as the memories of his long-lost love rushed through his head. A new passion consumed him, and he would have to wait no longer. Sonya had to be terrified by what was about to happen. It jolted Trent, and he knew it was coming. The toughest-looking woman he had ever seen emerged from behind a concrete pillar. She had to be close to six feet tall and almost as wide. She had a bandana tied securely around her face, but her black eyes pierced out like laser beams under the dim overhead light of the garage. Sonya froze in her tracks as she stared at the giant in front of her. She knew this wasn't good, but she had no idea how bad it was about to get. Another girl came from behind Sonya's car, the only one left in the garage. She was nowhere near as big as the other one, but was equally menacing with a bandana over her face as well and holding a baseball bat in both hands, lengthwise across her body. Sonya was so stunned she barely registered the other two cholas who came up behind her on both sides. "You got what we want, white girl, and you're going to give it to us". The big girl uttered those chilling words as one of the girls unloaded a sharp punch to the back of the ribs from behind. "AAAAUUUGGGHHH!!!!!" Sonya staggered forward, both hands shooting to the violated area on her body. Before she could fall, the girl who hit her grabbed her around the waist and braced her shoulder against her ****. The other one grabbed her wrists and easily lifted the smaller woman's arms high above her head.
"There's money and a cell phone in my briefcase, take it"! Sonya squeaked these words out as best she could with the lump in her throat and the sharp pain in her back as she motioned with her eyes at the leather bag she dropped when hit. "You think you can buy us off with some change and a cell phone? Who do you think you are, *****?" The girl with the bat scolded the terrified woman as she delivered a thrusting shot with the **** of the bat deep into Sonya's soft and unprepared midsection. It was a direct hit, dead center, right above her belly button.
"OOOOOOOFFFFFF!!!!" Her body instinctively tried to fold forward, but the two girls held her motionless. It was if she was suspended from the ceiling, arms above her head, lower body secured, she was just one big target. Something stirred inside of Trent when the impact of the blow forced the loud grunt out of his ex-lover. He found himself aroused and felt an erection creeping up in his pants. "OOOOOOWWWWWWWUUUUUFFF!!!" Another hit from the bat, same spot, just as hard. Sonya felt her already tender gut explode from within and radiate pain outward from the point of impact. She reflexively tried to gasp for air, but found herself coughing and spitting and feeling like she must be drowning. The big girl let out an evil snicker as she tore open the expensive blouse her victim was wearing and in one motion yanked off her skirt to reveal the rest of her nylons. Trent felt his pants get tighter as he was close enough to see the soft, blonde peach fuzz that covered Sonya's stomach. He always liked that, to him, it looked like a spider web across her torso. She also had it on her thighs, but they were covered by her stockings.
There was a red circle above her navel, indicating where the bat had been. Sonya was stretched even further as the girl with her arms was pulled her wrists up higher. The big girl gently patted her hurting stomach with her left hand, snickered again, and then unloaded a straight right punch that would have knocked over an elephant. It was right on the navel, and Sonya let out a painful "UUUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!!!" as the agony registered in her body. Her stomach was on fire, and she was sure she would be killed. She offered them what she had and they laughed it off, and it was apparent to her that their joy was in her suffering. The other girl dropped the bat by her feet and stood in front of the wailing advertising executive. A right and then a left hook delivered in rapid succession to Sonya's gently curved lower stomach shook her insides up once again. "OOOUUUGGGHHHH!!!"
"AAAUUUGGGGHHLLLMM!!!" Trent could hardly contain himself. He was more aroused now than all of the times they had *** put together! He was truly getting off on her suffering, and he felt his demons being purged from his body. As the girls continued to pound torturous blows repeatedly into Sonya's stomach, Trent felt a little more freedom with every punch. Freedom from the shame, the embarrassment, the violation of his manhood that this woman did to him.
Sonya's stomach was a battered mess. She had been punched, elbowed, hit with the bat, the big girl even backed up a few steps, then thrust forward, crouching down and ramming her big head into her stomach! The girls dropped the severely beaten vixen after a few well-placed face slaps and one good fist under the eye that was sure to leave a shiner. They grabbed the briefcase so as not to blow their cover, stripped her of all of her jewelry, and vanished into the night.
Trent knew he had to get out of there too, but he was transfixed by what he had seen and what he now saw. His ex was lying on the dirty concrete, half-naked and beaten to a pulp. And he felt empowered. He was so helpless when she erased him that one fateful night, and as her moans and cries of suffering got softer, he felt his manhood had been restored a little bit more with every sound. He wasn't proud of what he had done, he wasn't a violent or even a vindictive person. He just knew he couldn't continue with life until he received the one thing he didn't have--redemption.