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Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 01

By: MissDelarue



Chapter 1

This wasn't my scene, I only agreed to come to Verdant in support of my roommate, and best friend's birthday. She had been begging to go to this new club for months, little did I know she would drag me along...

But I have to admit, it was a pretty impressive place. Fluorescent paints splattered on the wall for color, sleek black tables and the bar was the most extravagant bar I've ever seen, with black granite, stainless steel, under glow lights, and a spark of color. It didn't take me long to find solitude there.

I was distracted with the people dancing on the floor when the bartender set a drink in front of me. The glass clinked as it hit the sleek black granite top. My eyebrows lowered because I already had a drink and I know I didn't order this. I was still sipping my wine.

"Excuse me." I waved to the bartender but he was occupied with other customers. "Excuse me, sir." 

The bartender made his way around, "Yes?" He seemed a bit annoyed with me. As if I was being a burden. 

"I didn't order this drink." I said briefly.

With another flash of annoyance, he said, "No, compliments from the man across the way." He briskly pointed to a man sitting across the bar.

I followed his gaze, falling short on a tall man, young, but attractive—oh so attractive. He couldn't be more than twenty-six. His hair was brunette, and tussled in this edgy, fun kind of way. And just barely could I see a flicker of green in his eyes. He was quite beautiful actually.

He picked up his glass, raising a toast from where he was, and smiled. I felt bad at the idea of this man buying me a drink, after all I already had one. But the least I could do was return his gesture. I raised my glass, smiled back, and took a sip. The crisp, cool liquid went down smoothly, leaving a slight burn from the alcohol. There was a pleasant, sweet berry taste that lingered. I hate to admit, but I was actually fond of this drink.

I smiled again, returning my gaze to the man, but strangely, he was gone. His drink, unfinished, lay on the bar. His seat was clearly vacant. Immediately, I was pinged with a sense of sadness. Had I scared off the only man who showed any interest in me?

As I scanned the room for him, my head began to spin a little, the lights melted together in a single blur. If I steadied myself and let my eyes focus, it wasn't so bad but I definitely needed some fresh air.

"Katie!" I called to my friend to get her attention but over the music and dancing, I had to scream at the top of my lungs and I could barely hear myself. "Katie!" Looking up at me, I could tell she was already intoxicated. Her eyes were lit with delight and her smile was far too large for her to be her normal self. She was much—happier. "I'm going to get some fresh air!" I yelled back at her. She nodded and turned back to the blonde sexy hunk of a man who was asking for her phone number. 

The music drowned out any chances of a real conversation between us so I just grabbed my jacket and tried to make my way to the door, which proved to be more difficult than I expected. People brushed past, knocking me off balance on more than one occasion. There was the beginnings of a headache, minor, but growing fast. 

I pushed the door hastily, causing the bouncer to give me a concerned look. I managed as much of a reassuring smile as I could. Taking a few more steps away from the noise, I was already feeling slightly better. 

I pull my jacket tighter around me; the air was frigid and far too brisk for May, but the cold air was helping. I focused on taking slow, easy, breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out. I repeated the mantra until I felt the headache subsiding. 

I knew I should have eaten more before coming. That's the number one rule to drinking right? Never drink on an empty stomach? But in all honesty, I hadn't had that much to drink. Hardly enough to make me this sick. But then again, I didn't drink often so maybe this was normal for me? I wasn't sure but what I did know was that I needed to get away from the loud noise and cigarette smoke. It certainly wasn't helping my case. 

It didn't take much walking to drown out the sound. What seemed like almost immediate relief, now seemed like deafening pain. My head pounded, my balance unsteady, and my stomach churned. Something wasn't right. 

My heel caught the raised lip of the sidewalk and I stumbled. Gripping to the cold brick of a building for support, I slowly steadied myself, my hands scraped slightly from the brick. My legs felt limp and my thoughts disoriented. I was slow to gather my wits and even slower to get moving again. 

"Hey!" A man shouted from behind me. "Hey Miss, are you okay?" I glanced behind me, barely making out a figure at the end of the block. He was dressed in a black suit jacket, at least think he was. It was so hard to focus. Seconds went by, maybe minutes...I'm not sure. Everything felt so unreal.

I jumped when someone placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" His voice slurred, words spread to a length, reaching farther away from me. The sound of tires screeching pulled me from his gaze. A black SUV pulled up to the curb next to us. 

Something definitely didn't feel right. My blood pumped and my heart raced. A small window of clarity began to form. I pushed off of the wall just as two men jumped from the vehicle. It was very clear what they were after. I forced my body to move as quickly as possible, but I still lacked control of my legs. I made it five steps when two sets of strong hands grabbed me.

"Hel—." My screams were muffled by the third man's hand across my mouth. I bit down on flesh as hard as I could, tasting the coppery residue of blood on my tongue. The man cried out, immediately releasing his hold over me. My body was suddenly alive. Awake with adrenaline, I knew I needed to fight back. I flew my right shoulder back into the second man, just hard enough for him to loosen his grip. 

"Fuck!" He uttered. 

I stomped on the last man's foot as hard as I could, digging my heel into his flesh and pushed him off balance, nearly knocking myself to the ground in the process. In that split second I knew it was my only chance at escaping and I didn't wait around. I ran as fast as I could away from my assailants. I could hear the click of my heels, followed by poundings of several footsteps behind me. They were gaining on me and fast. 

I looked for anyone to help me. But it was late and the streets were vacant except for my attackers. There was a small through-and-through alley off the right and I took it, stumbling over a trashcan. I felt a hand grab me, swiftly turning me around but I didn't stop. I surged with enough energy to regain my balance and kept running. They weren't far behind. And I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up. I was weak and exhausted and never a good athlete to begin with. 

I glanced back at my assailants, they were nearly upon me. Just as I began to refocus on my destination, my heel gave out sending me into a fumbling mess onto harsh and unforgiving ground. My body contorted in way I thought physically impossible, my arm crushed beneath my weight. My head hit the cold hard concrete, sending rockets of pain coursing through my body. 

I laid there for what seemed like minutes, willing myself not to move. The pain was numbing; it was hard to isolate where it was coming from—just everywhere. I cried out when two strong hand turned me onto my side. My left arm pressed close to my body to prevent moving

"Radio Simmons. Tell him to meet us at 5th and Main." I heard one of them say. It was just light enough to make out his face. Clean shaven, strong, aged with sun and years of hard labor. He clearly looked more experienced than the others. He wasn't all that bad to look at either but my vision blurred in and out. The dim glow of the alley light and then blackness.

"Ahhh!!" I screamed in agony as the men pulled me to my feet.

"Careful Sawyer. Easy." The man was clipped, sharp with his fellow comrade. 

Pain rocked through my body in a relentless wave. My attackers moved me diligently and swiftly. My weight did not seem to slow them. Tears started to flow down my face from the pain. My hair stuck to my cheeks in sticky blood. The tears streamed down my face when I realized I was helpless against these men. I couldn't even muster up enough energy to sob. I only felt numb.

The black SUV pulled up to the curb just as we were exiting the alleyway. I was falling in and out of the darkness, only getting glimpses as they loaded me into the backseat. They positioned me in the center, buckled in between the two of them. The third man, the one charge took the passenger seat, with the fourth, I'm presuming Simmons, driving. 

"Have you informed Hart of the situation?" The man in the passenger seat asked Simmons.

"Yes, Captain." Simmons replies, "There is a chopper standing by seven blocks from here. We'll be in the air in less than 10." 

"Good."

I slowly let a whimper escape. I can barely fight back the unconsciousness and all my strength has left me. The pain is becoming too much for me to bear. It didn't take long before the darkness swallowed me up.

__________________________________________________

"Can you hear me?" A hand gently tapped my cheek—bringing me back to reality. "Stay with me now. You hear me?" I opened my eyes to see the Captain hovering over me. He kept talking but I could barely hear him over the loud hum in the background. I was so tired, I just wanted to rest my eyes. 

"Hey now!" The Captain was yelling at me. "Open your eyes." I struggled to open them again but I could see that we weren't in the SUV anymore; I was laying down on the floor of the helicopter in a small cot. The Captain was busy cutting away at my dress. I tried to push his hand away but he forced my hands down to my side. My efforts were quickly aborted. 

"Simmons!" The loud humming made everything seem so distant. "Push 4mg Morphine." The captain shouted at him. I could feel the Captain's hand on me as he cut away the last bit of my dress. Simmons was soon as my side with a syringe. He worked with ease, un-phased by my exposed body. 

It wasn't long before the morphine ebbed at the pain, leaving me feeling numb and overwhelmingly exhausted. The darkness was creeping up again. 

 

__________________________________________________

"Abigail!" My mom couldn't hide the laughter from her voice, despite her efforts to scold me. I ran from the kitchen with a handful of cookies before she could try and stop me. Bursting out the front door I ran as fast as I could. 

Summer was always a magical time for me. I would spend hours venturing into the woods, dreaming up crazy stories, letting our imaginations run wild. And of course there was Alec, my best friend and neighbor.

"What do you think it will be like?" Alec asked me. We had climbed the biggest oak tree we could fine to eat our lunch.

"I don't know. I've never been to the city." I said. I told Alec everything. We always shared everything but I couldn't tell him this. I couldn't tell him that I was scared. He would laugh at me until the day I left. 

"Will you go to a new school?" 

"Yeah. Mom says it's a real fancy school. With uniforms and everything." I snickered. But I didn't want to go. I was happy here with Alec and the few friends I had. I never wanted much. But moving to a whole new city, a whole new state was too much. 

Alec gave me as much sympathy as he could muster. "Will you visit?" For the first time since I had told him, he looked as scared as I felt. I hugged him as hard as I could, a single tear rolled down my cheek. "I promise." I whispered.

The car was already packed and ready to go when I got back to the house. The movers had gone ahead of us a few days ago so all we had were a few pillows and blankets and snacks. Alec and I had said our goodbyes many times over but I still didn't feel right leaving him. But Mom and Dad were ready to get on the road.

Dad liked to play the really annoying car sing along songs from when I was a kid whenever we went on road trips. I have tried explaining to him several times that I'm too old for them now and they really are just annoying. But he doesn't listen. Mom's busy reading her book in the passenger seat and making comments here or there about how they will decorate the new house. 

And just like that my life was turned upside down. The car's tires screech as we try to stop but it's not fast enough. I could hear the metal crunching from the force of impact. We had hit something. The windshield implodes almost instantly and the car is thrown around into oncoming traffic. The last thing I see is a flash of blinding white light.

_____________________________________________

Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 02



I thrust upright, gasping for air. My hands trying to find my throat, trying to sooth the burning sensation but failing. It took several seconds before I realized that I was alive, but not long after, I remembered the previous night. The club, the guys who kidnapped me... the pain. Only then did I realize that I wasn't in earth shattering, agonizing pain. It was merely a dull throb.

I scanned my body, internally assessing the damage. I was in an ugly light blue hospital gown that smelled faintly of antiseptic.

And there was a small IV in my right arm, pumping a cold liquid into me. But this place didn't look like a hospital. The bed was a king-sized, topped with an intricate, fluffy comforter and silk sheets. Looking around me I saw four peach colored walls, oak stained cabinets, a large chest dresser and three doors—one to my right and two to my left. The room was large and luscious, and most definitely not a hospital.

Just then, a blonde haired, blue eyed man I had never seen before walked in. He was wearing a light grey V-necked sweater with a small metal zipper, khaki pants, and black leather shoes. He was young and his skin smoothed, not aged or sun damaged like the other man.

"How are you feeling, Abby?" His voice was smooth and sincere. 

I didn't know what to say. How did I feel? There was a dull throb in my left shoulder, my hip hurt every time I tried to move, my ankle felt swollen and my head suddenly felt really heavy. He was waiting for me to reply. My throat was sore and scratchy and when I tried to open my mouth, the words wouldn't come out.

The man stepped away for a second a returned with a glass of water and straw. He gently helped me take a few sips, waiting patiently for me to continue. When I was done he set the cup on the tray next to the bed and said, "Is that better?"

"Yes." I said, my throat instantly feeling replenished. "Thank you."

"Now, how are you feeling?" He asked. He started checking the machines, and inspecting my IV, all the while still paying close attention to me.

"Where am I?" I started to panic. "And how do you know my name?"

"You're safe here. Are you in pain?" His voice was stern. He was standing over me, waiting for me to answer.

"No." I lied, just as sternly. But he could see right through me. He moved swiftly around the room to the large oak cabinet, pressed six keys on a keypad that I had never noticed before and withdrew a manila folder, single syringe, and clear glass bottle. I couldn't make out the contents.

"What do you remember?" He asked. He soon made his way back around to the end of my bed. He set the syringe and bottle down to open the folder and began jotting down notes.

Flashbacks of the attackers, their hands around me, hauling me away... The adrenaline that surged through my body when I knew they were going to take me. The urge to fight back. Fight for my life.

"I had stepped out of the club. I wasn't feeling well and thought the fresh air would help...." He stopped writing his notes, looking at me, waiting. "There were these men...they tried to kidnap me. They had me but I broke free and ran. I tried finding someone, tried screaming but no one came...And then I fell, my shoes. I shouldn't have been wearing heels. They took me. But from there it's pieces. Not a whole memory." The man nodded as if he understood, finishing his notes and then moved towards me.

"Tell me where I am." I said. He removed the syringe from its plastic -casing and withdrew 3 mg of what I could now see was morphine. "Don't! Please. I don't want it!" He continued removing the air from the syringe as if I hadn't even said anything at all.

Just then we both look over at the door to find another man entering. And it was then that I recognized him from the night before. He was the driver of the SUV. Panic resonated in my body. One of my kidnappers was here. Simmons, I believed the Captain called him.

I made to lunge out of the bed, trying to put distance between me and my assailant but the doctor realized what I intended to do and pushed me back down on the bed. "Now, just hold on a second." He said, his voice calming yet stern. He set the morphine syringe and bottle off to the side to free both hands.

Simmons made his way across the room and stands next to the medicine cabinets. I tried to watch him, fear filling my eyes, but a hand pulled my chin to the side. The doctor was holding my gaze in place. "Firstly, I am not going to hurt you. Secondly, despite your desire to get out of this bed, you will not move. You are in no condition to go anywhere. Am. I. Clear?"

I nodded my head yes, but internally I am screaming "fuck no!" If I am still with my captors then I will make any and all attempts to escape, no matter the cost. The doctor released his grip, freed my head and left me to lock onto Simmons.

"Abby—." I heard my name but didn't look. What was Simmons doing? "Abby—." My chin was pulled aside once again but more harshly this time so that I was looking directly in the doctor's eyes. "Abby—I need your full undivided attention." Just then Simmons appeared on the other side of the bed with a metal tray. My heart raced when I saw a syringe and vials. I started panicking but the doctor held me so that I could only see him. 

"Calm down." He said coolly to me. But his voice was more than calming, it was almost threatening. "Simmons—proceed." I try to jerk my head from his grip, to keep my arm away from Simmons but I could not see what he was doing. 

I felt the grip around my left arm. He held me still while he tied the band above my elbow. It was tight and pinched my skin a little. I tried resisting but Simmons was quick and had the needle in before I could exhale. He untied the rubber band and I felt the vein relax around the needle. 

He took four vials of blood and quickly bandaged me up. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" The doctor asked, smirking. He released his grip once more and I rubbed the soreness away.

"Why do you need that much blood?" I asked. 

"Full panel workup. I am checking for red blood cell counts, white blood cell counts, kidney function, liver function, blood sugar levels, clotting, STDs and whether you have any inflammation." The doctor said matter of factly. "You were pretty banged up when they brought you in. I just want to make sure you're on the road to recovery." He gave me a small reassuring smile.

"You never told me where we are."

Simmons busied himself with sealing the blood samples in little clear plastic bags. He placed the needle in a red contamination box mounted on the wall next to the door. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the doctor releasing the morphine into my IV.

I quickly tried to yank the IV free but he gripped my arm securely and slowly continued pressing the syringe. I already felt the effects. My head got heavy and my body felt cold but warm at the same time and the pain began to ebb away. When he finished, he released his grip and discarded the syringe. He returned the morphine to the cabinet and locked it with a click of a button. 

The drowsiness crept up fast and I couldn't fight it. "Get some rest Abby. I will answer your questions tomorrow." The doctor flipped the light switch and I was out before I saw them leave the room. 

__________________________________________________

I am woken by a stream of light coming from a window I had not noticed the night before. It was probably midday by the guess of it. But I was alone! This was my chance to get out of here. I double checked and triple checked that I was alone and threw back the covers.

I swung my legs around to the side of the bed, expecting pain but I genuinely felt better. My ankle wasn't swollen anymore, my hip and shoulder still hurt from the fall but it was manageable. I braced the bed to stand up, my legs held steady. I couldn't help but smile. The only problem now was the IV. I didn't think twice about ripping it out of my arm.

I moved as fast as I could to the door but the handle wouldn't budge. It was locked from the outside. I tried the other doors. The second one was locked too, and the third led to a modernized bathroom, complete with a claw foot bathtub, and multiple showerheads in a walk in shower. 

And for the first time I got a glimpse of my face. The curly brown locks were matted and tangled. My cheeks looked tear-stained and there was a small two inch gash with butterfly bandages on my forehead. My skin looked pale and my eyes seemed to have lost color as well. 

The hospital gown only came down mid-thigh and I could see the bruises on my knees and legs, the swelling had gone down in my ankle but there is still a large back and blue mark. I almost cried. My body was battered and beaten but then I realized that I was alive and that was all that mattered. I was going to get out of here. And then I realized if I could see a landmark or a street name I might be able to find out where I am.

I raced to the window just as I heard a few beeps and the door knob twisted. Simmons entered, shocked to see me out of bed. Even more shocked to see the trail of blood winding down my arm. He rushed towards me and grabbed my arm, applying pressure on the entry site of the IV. Before he could tug me away I got a glimpse of the world outside.

"Don't touch me!" I pushed him away, suddenly angry with what he did, what he was a part of, and for keeping me here. Even though he was only one of the four responsible for my kidnapping, I can't help but feel hatred for him. Simmons took a step toward me. I instinctively backed away but I was already pressed against the window. I didn't have anywhere else to go.

"Simmons, please wait outside." We both turned our attention to the doctor who was standing just inside the doorway with the Captain right beside him. The door was wide open. I could try make a run for it, but I would have to get past Simmons and the doctor and then the Captain. I might be able to get past Simmons, if I punched him hard enough but by then the doctor would know my intent and I would be easily overpowered by the Captain.

Simmons didn't think twice before leaving and the door was soon shut, beeping that it was indeed locked. "Come here. Let me take care of that." The doctor said. But I couldn't find the will to move. My legs suddenly felt unresponsive, my eyes locked on the Captain.

Realizing that I didn't intend on moving, the doctor grabbed a chair from the corner and set it in front of me. "Sit." He said. He returned to the cabinet to grab gauze, a cleaning pad, and a bandage. "Sit down. I won't repeat myself again." This time his voice was stricter, almost angry.

With shaky legs, I managed to take a seat. He grabbed another chair from the other side of the room and took his place in front of me. Moving quickly, he cleaned and bandageds my wrist.

"How are you feeling?" He asked me.

"Why should I tell you? You didn't listen to me last time." The anger still boiled inside me. Why should I treat him with any kind of respect when he just treated me like I didn't have a choice?

"I'd be careful with that tone, child." The Captain threatened. But I was not scared of him. If anything he was only fueling my rage. He might have been able to kidnap me but he would not control me. 

"Or what!" It was too late... I was going to blow up. "What are you going to do?! Going to get your men to team up on a little girl? Hardly fair?! Don't you think?" He clenched his jaw in anger, clearly pissed at the level of my audacity. I couldn't stay seated any longer. "Four against one. Didn't have the confidence to do it yourself? Maybe you lacked the balls. Needed your men to help?" I had hit a nerve. The Captain made his ways across the room in swift bold moves. Grabbing my hair, he yanked me against the wall until I was looking him square in the eye. I had a chance to finally look him in the eye and I wasn't going to waste it. "You're the Captain, right? That's how you set an example for your men? Have them kidnap a sick girl. What, was I an easy target?!" I barely had time to prepare myself for the slap across the cheek.

"Kane! That's enough!" The doctor shouted. 

I placed my hand on my cheek to protect myself from another assault but it didn't come. His demeanor had changed as quickly as it came. His expression was clear and he seemed calmer, calculated. "You were always the target." He said as he released my hair. I slid down the wall so my feet touched the floor again.

I was the target? Did they know I was going to be at that bar? No, they couldn't possibly because I had left... I left—because I was sick. And I got sick after drinking that berry flavored drink. The drink from the man with the green eyes! They were waiting for me because they knew I would get sick. The Captain watched me as I connected the dots. "You see, you're here for a reason, not by some random chance." 

I could barely register what he was saying. I slumped into the chair, afraid my legs would deceive me. 

"Kane, in the fridge, there's a blue bottle with a white label. Please grab it." The Captain fetched it but I was hardly paying attention. I heard the crack of a seal and then hands holding the bottle out to me. "Drink this." I didn't move. 

Who could possibly want to kidnap me?

"Captain, I think it's best you leave us now. I need to talk with Abby." I looked up to see The Captain's face, not all too happy about leaving, but even less happy to be getting the boot from the doctor. 

When the door was securely latched, and the Captain gone, the doctor said, "Abby, I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I need the honest answers. After I have asked my questions, I will answer any you have. Do you understand?"

I met his gaze and nodded. "Good." He reached around and pulled out the same manila folder he has the day before. "Here, take a sip of this." The doctor tried handing me the blue bottle again, but after noticing my hesitation he says, "It just like Gatorade—with more electrolytes. It will help calm the nerves." He seems to be telling the truth so I took a sip. It tasted just like a sports drink.

"Now these questions start out very general but some of them can be quite personal. I want you to answer all of the questions, Abby, no matter how embarrassing. Just keep in mind I am a doctor and these are medically necessary to know. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head yes. 

"I need to hear you say it, Abigail."

"Yes, I understand." I took another sip of the blue drink. "But what I don't understand is why you have to ask them in the first place? You're not my doctor. How do I even know you are a doctor?"

"That's a valid point. I have graduated from John Hopkins and Harvard. I currently hold five degrees with a vast area of expertise. No, I am not your normal physician, but at this time, I am your doctor. I will explain everything after we finish. Shall we begin?" He patiently waited for me.

I gave him another nod and he fired away into the first round of questions. "Can you please state your full name?" 

"Abigail Louise Heed." He quickly wrote down my answers in his folder. 

"And you go by Abby? Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"How old are you, Abby?

"I am 23."

His first round consisted of public knowledge questions and answers. Things like my birthday, siblings, parents, friends, and family. I was reluctant to say that I did not have any family left and only one friend who probably hated my guts right about now. 

"Now this second part is important. If you don't know, it's okay to tell me so." I nodded and he continued, "Are you currently on any medications? Vitamins, or birth control?"

"I take a multivitamin but I mostly forget."

"That's okay, no birth control?"

"No,"

"Have you in the past?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle? Start and finish date?" Almost immediately he noticed me blushing. "It's okay Abby. You can tell me. These questions are going to get more private as we go on. So answer them truthfully and this will be over soon."

"I don't know what the date is. But I do know it ended 4 days before they took me. And they normally last 5 days."

"That's good."

He ran through a series of questions about my family's medical history and if I had any surgeries, or if I was allergic to anything. 

"Alright, we are almost done Abby. Last series of questions. "Are you sexually active?"

I thought he might ask something like this but still, I didn't think I would seemed shocked, let alone angry about it. He noticed my hesitation.

"Answer the question. Are you sexually active?"

"No."

"Are you a virgin?" The doctor asked.

I felt uneasy with his line of questioning. "Yes."

The doctor's eyebrows raised with curiosity but he did not press it further. "Have you had anal intercourse?"

Really?! Could these questions get any more private? "You know...I think we are done here. I am not answering any more questions."

"You need to answer the questions" He was getting slightly annoyed. But I suspect he knew this would happen. 

"No, I don't. The medical questions I understand. But this? This—this is private. And none of your business." 

"These questions are medically relevant, I assure you. Why don't we skip that one and come back to it later?"

"Fine."

"I know you said you were a virgin but have you now or ever had a sexually transmitted disease? A STD can be transmitted other ways..."

I rolled my eyes. "No."

"Have you ever given or received oral sex?"

"Seriously?! I don't see how this is relevant."

"Just answer the question."

"No." His questions continued getting more and more embarrassing as we went on.

"Last one, have you had anal intercourse?"

The last questions was finally here and it was the one I was reluctant to share. If answering this meant it was all over, then fine. "No. I haven't had anal intercourse before."

The doctor smiled, wrote down his answer, and folded up his paperwork. 

"Thank you. That wasn't so bad. Now how about we get you something to eat? You must be starving."

"You said if I answered your questions, you'd answer mine. I want some answers."

He chuckled. "You are quite persistent. Well, I will order you some lunch and then while you eat I will answer any questions you have."

"Fine." The doctor seemed pleased and set off to order me food. It came all too fast, I hadn't even made it out of the bathroom yet. The doctor explained to me that for the remainder of the day I was on a mostly liquid diet which primarily consisted of soup, Jell-O, and a slushy. It wasn't much but I surprisingly wasn't all that hungry.

"Now. For my turn... Where are we?" I was so anxious to finally know where we were. I wanted answers. It seems I am trapped in this place with nowhere to go. I needed to escape.

My attention was briefly pulled away to the knock at the door, and few beeps and then the Captain. He nodded to the doctor but didn't say anything. He just leaned against the door and watched us.

"We are on a private island." He said bluntly. That honestly wasn't what I was expecting. Certainly there was nowhere to go now. How do you escape off an island, surrounded by nothing but water? Surely there must be boats that I could take to get to mainland...

"What? You can't be serious. Who owns their own fucking island?" The Captain did not approve of my language skills, clearly giving me a warning not to try it again.

"Your benefactor. Do not pressure me for his name, I cannot tell you. But I can tell you what I do know." The doctor said. I nodded for him to continue. "You were hand selected from a pool of over 400 women by the benefactor and brought here. The method of your arrival was not as intended. There was supposed to be no harm to you, I assure you. It was never the benefactor's intentions for you to get hurt. The drug you were slipped should have rendered you helpless but your body was able to produce enough adrenaline to neutralize the drug's effects temporarily allowing you to run."




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 02



Anger and bile rose in my stomach as I remember the look of my face in the mirror this morning. The bruises and scrapes, rendering my body less than tasteful. "He did this!" I harshly pointed to the Captain. "They did this to me!"

The Captain spoke up from the corner. I could sense he was trying to keep his anger in check. "Despite what you think of me Miss Heed, I never intended to hurt you. But I will not apologize for doing my job." His chest rose, his body being stiff and rigid, ready for more insults.

"Now, the accident could have been avoided. It should have been a simple snatch and grab, so I'm told. Anyhow, you are here, I have been tending to you for a few days now. That was the past and the present. And here is the future." The doctor was right to change the subject. I couldn't look at him anymore. "Please understand that I am just informing you of the situation. And here it is. You were brought here for one purpose and one purpose only and that is to please the benefactor any way possible."

"Please him? You mean clean up after him? Be his servant? Make him happy?" I was confused.

"No. You are not a servant. But you are not free to do whatever you wish either. There are rules which will be laid out to you in due time. But essentially you are to satisfy the benefactor's sexual needs."

"Just so I am to understand you, could you repeat that one more time? I think I misheard you." The doctor stared back at me, emotionless. And somewhere deep, down in my gut, I knew I had not misheard him. That I was searching for another explanation.

"I think you heard the doctor quite clear, Miss Heed. You will have sexual relations with the benefactor, and I am here to see that you follow through." The Captain was clear.

"I what?! No fucking way. I'm not going to be some rich man's play thing?! You tell him right fucking now I want no part of this. He can send me home and find someone else!! I won't do it!" In my fit of anger I flew the lunch tray against the wall, making the remainder of my tomato soup splatter against the wall. The Captain pushed off the far wall almost immediately, angered by my behavior and no doubt the profanities. But the doctor held up his hand before he could make it past.

"You need to calm down, this instant." The doctor said to me. "Kane—I will deal with this." He tried grabbing my arms, but I was engulfed in rage. I would not be forced to have intercourse with a man who kidnapped me. He tried to contain my fit but I was throwing punches. And it didn't take long before I hit him squarely in the jaw. He staggered back towards the door. The Captain reached around him, pulling my arm until I was held tightly against his chest, my arms crossed over each other. Hitting his chest felt like hitting a brick wall, cold and hard. Just then the doctor reached for a small red button on the keypad but before I could make anything of it, the room was stormed with men.

They grabbed me, forcing me onto the bed—kicking and screaming. 

"Put her in the restraints." I heard one of them say.

I broke free from the man on my right and uppercut him in the jaw. I forced myself up, trying to get away from them but another grabbed my left arm—the injured one—and applied pressure. It was enough pressure to cause me immense pain and I fell back onto the bed but not before I saw the Captain flanking my left his hand gripped tightly around my wounded arm. It didn't take long for them to have me restrained, spread eagle on the bed. Once I was, the Captain dismissed everyone except the doctor and Simmons who stayed behind to help clean up the mess.

"You call this handled, Mathias?!" The Captain shouted, throwing a gesture to me. I was still trying to fight the restraints, find some movement, and free a limb. 

"I didn't expect this kind of reaction." The doctor was clearly disappointed in the latest events. He went to the medicine cabinet and produced another syringe and bottle.

"No." The Captain said. "I warned you Mathias. We tried it your way and now we are doing it my way. I won't tolerate this bullshit. No more drugs, no more bedside manner." He switched his gaze to me. "Those days are behind you." I could see the drive in his eyes. He was clearly not impressed with the current situation. The Captain dismissed the doctor without a second glance. He never broke sight with me. Simmons quickly hustled out as well.

After the door shut and the doctor was gone, the Captain said, "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. Punching the doctor and my men." His voice was chilling, controlled, and borderline scary. "Let me make myself very clear. You will do as you're told. Failure to do so will result in punishment." He paced back and forth at the edge of my bed. "Are you willing to do as you're told?" He asked.

I spat at him. "Go to hell!" 

The edges or his lips curled slightly. He wanted a fight. "I am a patient man. You will learn." Giving me one last bone-chilling glance and left the room. He pushed a series of buttons and a metal shade came down on the window, blocking all sunlight. He turned out the lights and left me in total darkness.

I struggled against the restraints but there was no point. I wasn't going anywhere. The quiet was deafening, anything but peaceful after today's events. How could they possibly think what they were doing was okay. I wouldn't do it. I couldn't.

My thoughts seems to wander. What if he was an arrogant, rich snob? Well...he probably was, giving that he owns his own island. How could I get out of this? I could do what the Captain orders for the time being. The doctor did say I would have certain freedoms. I could make my attempt at an escape then. They wouldn't see it coming.

__________________________________________________

I was left alone for quite some time; it was only after I realized I had to go to the bathroom did I begin to feel uneasy. I called out for someone for at least an hour, until my throat became sore but no one came. I clenched my legs close as hard as I could but with the restraints, it was effortless. There was no clock anywhere in sight to give me an idea of how long I had been there. 

I dozed in and out of sleep, but I never knew how long I slept. It could have been hours or fifteen minutes. The lack of light left me guessing whether it was night or day, how long I had been in there. I had no idea.

I woke shivering from cold. My legs were wet and sticky. As soon as I realized why I began to sob. I had wet myself in the night. And they had left me here in my own piss. Tears flowed down in streams now. Embarrassed that I had lost control of my own body functions. To be rendered immobile was one thing but to not be able to control the simplest of urges was horrifying. I cried, choking back sobs. I was disgusted with myself, with this place. This is what he wanted. He wanted me broken.

I woke to a dim overhead light above the bed, I groggily opened my eyes. The tears had formed a fuzzy haze over them and it was hard to see. 

Simmons came to my side and started untying the restraints. He looked sincerely sorry. Only sparing me a quick pitiful glance and then back to busying his hands. As soon as my hands and legs were free I pushed myself up against the headboard. Pulling my legs up and into an embrace. This proved to be more difficult than I expected.

Simmons came around to my left and reached a hand out towards me. I tried fighting back the tears but it was useless. They fell in a silence. I didn't look at him. I didn't want to. 

"Let me help you." He said softly. His hand fell to his side when he realized I wasn't going to accept it. He turned towards the bathroom and I could faintly hear the sound of running water. The smell of jasmine slowly crept into the room. Simmons soon returned, eager to get me out of the bed and cleaned up. 

"Abby?" He asked softly. I turned to his hand once more extended. He seemed genuine in wanting to help me. And I wanted to clean up so badly. I took his hand and he carefully helped me off of the bed and guided me into the bathroom.

The marble tiles were heated and comforting against my cold bare feet. Steam rolled off of the bathtub, with smells of jasmine and vanilla soothing me. The bathroom was as big as my bedroom back home. Simmons moved around to the back of me, trying to untie the gown. I jumped at his touch and backed away.

"I am just trying to help you. Please....let me." He didn't advance towards me until I tried untying the gown myself. He seemed to disapprove. "I have orders to assist you. Let me do my job." He quickly moved behind me and worked diligently to untie the gown. With the back opened, I felt vulnerable. Simmons began helping me out of it, being extremely cautious not to bump my arm. He helped me to the edge of the bath, keeping behind me for the sake of privacy.

I let the gown fall to the ground and moved hastily to engulf myself in the warm water. He carefully eased me into the bath, perching my left arm on a rolled towel and the edge of the tub. Once I was finally in the bath, and Simmons felt as he had done his job, he excused himself. 

The water was so invigorating and refreshing. Bubbles pooled at the sides of my body creating a soft, gentle caress. It felt so good to let my muscles relax, I hadn't realized how much I needed this. After half an hour of soaking in the hot water I began scrubbing every inch of my body—two times over. I lathered my hair with a rich and creamy vanilla shampoo, which faintly reminded me of my childhood. I used the hand-held shower head to rinse my hair.

Once done, I tried to get up. I rested my hand on the rim but with only one arm for weight and my legs too relaxed to move, I could sense I was going to fall back down. Suddenly, Simmons was at my side, holding most of my weight until I regained my balance. I was immediately thankful but uneasy about him seeing me naked.

He did not say a word or look me in the eye, he gently picked me up out of the tub, wrapped a towel around me and placed a pile of clothes on the chair in the corner, shutting the door upon his exit.

The towel was plush and heavy but soft and even more lavish feeling. I took my time drying my hair, and washed my face in the sink. I didn't look as bad as I did earlier. The tear stains were gone but I looked restless. 

The clothes he brought me consisted of a pair of navy blue scrub pants and a white t-shirt. No bra or panties. I dressed in what I had, thinking it was better than nothing.

When I emerged from the bathroom, the sheets had been changed on the bed, and my dirty gown was gone. I was thinking that Simmons might not actually be that bad of a guy but my thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

It was the Captain. He briskly walked into the room, evaluating my new clothes and wet hair. "I see you've cleaned up." He walked around the edge of the bed where Simmons and I sat. Simmons seemed to understand what was happening and made his way around to the far side of the bed. "Now, get back onto the bed." The Captain ordered. I glanced over to see Simmons pulling out the restraints. Fear and panic stormed my body. 

"No! No...no please. I will do what you say. I will behave." The Captain listened to my pleas but didn't move. "Please don't do this! I will listen. You can't do this! 

The Captain picked me up and tossed me on the bed with ease, slamming my elbow into my rib. I cried out in pain, but I was ignored. "I CAN do this. And I WILL to do this." He said calmly.

"No! No! Don't do this. I am begging you!! Don't leave me here again." I was fighting back sobs now, both from the pain and the fear of being tied up again. "I will...do it. I...I will...please...him..." The sobs were streaming down now.

The Captain smiled, satisfied with my defeat. "Very good." And just as quickly as he came he was gone. Simmons followed him out too. I collapsed on the bed, emotionally exhausted and drained. Despite how exhausted I felt, my body would not submit to sleep. My stomach churned and my mouth felt dry. The need for food was suddenly overwhelming. My stomach knotted in hunger pains, leaving me restless.

The door opened once more. But this time it is not Simmons, the doctor or the Captain. An older Hispanic lady briskly walked in, set down a tray of food and left. She did not look at me or say anything. As soon as she was gone I made my way to the edge of the bed.

Whatever it was, it smelled good. There was a small cup of chicken noodle soup, some crackers, a bowl of fresh fruit and a bottle of water. I didn't think twice before devouring the food. The Captain entered just as I finished, followed by the Hispanic lady who grabbed my tray and left.

"I will cut straight to the point." He was wearing a tight black shirt, showing off his muscles with khaki colored cargo pants. His 6' 3' stature towered over me as I began to feel the weight of what he was about to say. "You have rules here. You are expected to follow them at all times. If you do, you will receive more privileges. If you break the rules you will be punished. That is the clean cut version. Am I clear?"

"Yes." I say. To my surprise, my voice did not waver. 

"Your meals will be delivered to you. You can eat them in here. You will be expected to be clean, well-manicured, and presentable at all times. Your closet is fully stocked. The benefactor may call upon you at any time during the day or night and you will be expected to do as you're told. Failure in following these rules will result in severe punishment." He stopped pacing in front of me. "Understood?" I nodded that I understood and he seemed content. "Good. You may come with me." He began walking towards the door and paused before opening it. Waiting for me to get up and follow.

He punched in the code to open the door and it swung open. Before I could walk through the threshold, the Captain gripped my upper arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Do not try anything." I nodded and followed him out. 

The hallway was cast in a beautiful sunlight, the hardwood floors freshly waxed and glimmering. The Captain walked at a slower pace to accommodate me. He led me to a grand staircase, past the great room, a large dining room, and several other rooms, sealed with keypads. I felt trapped, but who was I kidding...I was trapped. At least until I found a way out.

It turned out my bedroom was on the third floor. The second floor primarily housed offices, private party rooms, a sitting area, and a series of other room I wasn't able to see. The kitchen and grand ball room, among other rooms, were on the first floor. The place was by far the biggest residence I had ever laid eyes on. 

We quickly moved through the first floor to the back of the house, stopping at a large stainless steel double door. The Captain rested his hand on the digital pad next to the door and it swiftly opened, retracting into the walls. He placed his hand on the small of my back and ushered me in. 

The doors soon closed behind up making me jump. We were standing in what looked like an actual medical lab. To the right was a row of beds, similar to the ones you find in hospitals but much more modern looking. There were two large lab stations in the center of the room, the cabinets reaching all the way to the ceiling with a series of rooms off to the right with what seemed like a hallway leading off to somewhere else in the far back of the room.

"How are you feeling Abigail?" The doctor rounded one of the lab stations wearing a navy blue colored shirt and lab coat. He looked extremely different than when he was in my room. He looked more professional, like an actual doctor -- not the home-visit kind. 

"I'm okay," I said. I was honestly getting tired of answering that question. He smiled and nodded. "Well, I hope we can change that." He said as he rested his hand on my back and led me to the fifth bed down on the right. Directly in front of the larger of the two lab stations. He motioned for me to hop onto the bed.

I quickly scanned the room, afraid of what might happen but the Captain's gaze captured mine. He nodded towards the bed and I took a step forward, but suddenly unsure how to get onto it with it raised so high. The Captain must have realized what was going through my thoughts because he make quick use of some buttons and brought the bed down to a height where I could just sit down instead of having to jump up.

Once I was seated, he raised the bed back up to its original height. The doctor returned with a few tools and some cleaning supplies. Rolling a small silver tray over, he set the things down and moved to inspect my arm.

He tested the motion of my arm, flexing at the elbow and raising it up and down. "When you fell, you dislocated your shoulder, damaging a few of the nerves in your arm. You will have some bruising for a while but it will fade with time. "Let me know if any of this hurts." He continued rotating my arm each and every different way. There was dull ache, but definitely better than the previous days. 

The Captain didn't seem too interested in the doctor's evaluation and made for the door. The little hope I did have for escaping vanished when I heard yet again the familiar beeping sound telling me the doors were locked. 

"Can I ask you a question?" My voice was barely a whisper.

His eyebrows peaked, giving me the go ahead. "Why do they call him 'the Captain?'"

The doctor chuckled. "Kane is a unique breed, to say the least. Some men are born into power, some take it...but very rarely do you see men given it." He paused to grab his stethoscope. "He was working in Brazil, in the northern part of South America. Kane was part of an elite Special Ops team tasked with protecting one of their most important political figures. I don't know who exactly, Kane never spoke of it."

"The plan was flawless, or so I've heard. They had taken into account nearly every possible dilemma and how to maneuver around it, all but one." He paused, his face contorting in a way he seemed to be contemplating something.

"They hadn't seen it coming...a traitor. The team Kane was on was infiltrated by one of the largest drug cartels, the Primeiro Comando da Capital. A member on Kane's team was promised riches if he turned over the political diplomat to the drug cartel. So the man did. All hell broke out. It was a free for all." He began cleaning up, lost in thought again. 

"Nearly everyone died that day; Kane barely made it out alive himself. But Kane finished the mission. He was able to secure the diplomats security and was awarded with a medal and promotion. For whatever reason he turned it down, retired, and worked odd end security jobs but people never stopped calling him Captain."

"Seems like a more noble man than I have met... If he is so popular, why does he work for some rich snob?"

"That's enough." The doctor's demeanor changed entirely. "You will respect the Captain and your benefactor. I don't want to hear any more." His manner seemed to shift yet again from agitated friend to professional doctor. "Now, that you're on the mend we can continue with your orientation and cleansing."

My eyebrows dipped, "My what?"

The doctor grabbed the hem of my shirt. "Lift your arms up." 

I didn't move. "I need to inspect the bruising and can't do that with your shirt on. Now, remove your shirt. I have no time for games."

I hesitated but slowly lifted them and reached towards the ceiling. My shoulder hurt a little but no more than a sore muscle feel. The doctor slid my shirt up and over my head and my boobs bounced freely. They weren't big but they were perfect for my frame, I fit into mostly B cups but every once in a while, I would run into a C cup that ran small. My nipples turned hard in the cold air and my cheeks immediately blushed red.

The doctor paid no attention to my nakedness as he inspected the bruises on my shoulder. He leaned forward to assess my left shoulder blade. Just before he pulled away, I snatched his ID card from his front shirt pocket. I swiftly hid it between my thigh and the bed. 




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 02



When the doctor was finished he helped me stand and led me toward the back hallway. When I went to grab my shirt he briskly told me to leave it.

He was already thirty feet in front of me, no doubt thinking I was right behind. If ever there would be a chance to run it would be now. There was just the doctor here and if need be I would fight to get away. The door was to my left and the doctor off to my right, still unaware I had stopped.

I made the decision quick and ran for the double steel door off to my left. The sounds of my feet padding against the cold tiled alerted him.

"Stop!" He yelled after me. 

I was nearly to the door with the doctor close behind. I hurried to slide his ID card over the reader and when the light lite up red I tried again in a panic. And again it turned red. He was closing in on me. I tried one more time and the light turned green and the doors slid open.

I burst through as fast as I could and veered right, towards the rest of the house. I needed a way out.

Just then a maid turned the corner and I rammed into her as the stack of towels went flying. She fell to the ground, cursing no doubt in Spanish. Oddly she was not shocked to see me indecent. I scrambled to my feet and ran around the corner.

There was a flight of stairs to my right but knowing I was on the first floor, going up would only trap me further. I ran down the corridor checking every door possible, but nothing was budging and the few that did were utility rooms. Just then the hall was filled with sirens, the few doors I found to be unlocked beeped and sealed shut.

I forced myself to keep running. I veered left into a hallway filled with glass. Just beyond was a garden, rich with greens and beautiful flowers, I faltered in my step, imagining what it was like and if it held a way out of this compound. Just then I ran into something hard and unexpected.

I nearly collapsed just as the maid did not a minute earlier, and would have if it hadn't been for the hands that held me steady. It took me a second to determine what had happened. I struggled against the grip, managing to tear away from the hands that held me, stumbling back onto the ground.

Standing above me was a familiar face, one with piercing green eyes and dark brown tousled hair. He was as well dressed as I remembered, even better in a crisp dark grey suit, a thin white Iinen shirt, gold cufflinks, and a deep emerald tie. I was so captivated by his looks, I forgot my motive. By the time I came to, the doctor, Captain, as well as a horde of security guards had surrounded us.

I was pulled to me feet by the Captain and quickly restrained with my arms pulled back, my shoulder in an uncomfortable position. I fought for my freedom but I knew it was pointless, there was no escape now.

The green eyed man raised his hand in a swift motion, he dismissed the security team and the blaring alarms abruptly stopped. He dipped his head to the Captain and he released his binding grip. I moved to cover my nudity, suddenly more conscious of it than escaping.

"Abby, is it?" His voice was smooth, like an aged scotch, sliding down the throat with ease. 

I nodded. He gave me a look over, perhaps comparing my last appearance to the present. For whatever reason I began to feel embarrassed, covered in bruises and however unfortunate, topless. 

He redirected his attention to the Captain. "See to it this doesn't happen again." His voice was harsh and clipped. It was strange to see such authority in a man much younger than the Captain, and knowing what I do now about the Captain... it only left me wondering how did a man of late twenties, end up where he was.

He spotted the badge I had taken on the floor next to my feet. Directing his attention to the doctor, he seemed disappointed. Disappointed in me upping him surely, but somehow the badge seemed minute in the matter. They seemed to communicate quite effectively without words. And when he did speak, it was brief. "Get it done." I could only imagine what he meant by that.

And with one last glance towards me, he turned and left. Before I could act on any plan I was thrown over the Captain's shoulder and held in place by his large arm resting over my backside. I kneed his chest and pounded his back with my fists, but he remained unaffected by my flailing. 

I was carried back down the path I had come and into the lab. The Captain followed the doctor into the back with a more private room. Standing outside the door to the exam room were three soldiers, dressed in pressed navy blue and white uniforms with a funny looking red crest insignia with some saying below on the right chest. I hadn't noticed it before. Before I could make out the writing, I was catapulted off the Captain's shoulder with ease right into an exam chair.

The room was bleached white, with stainless steel cabinets, a counter, and sink in front of me. There were no posters or signs on the walls, not even a hint of color to contrast the grey and white.

They worked the restraints quickly so that my wrists were bound to my side before I knew what had happened. With my wrists bound, I could do little to stop them from removing my pants. Then two straps across my body were fastened—one just blow my chest and another riding across my pelvis. The doctor worked efficiently to produce two stirrups, hidden in the table. Forcefully my legs were placed in the stirrups and secured with another set of straps across my calves and ankles.

My range of motion was practically non-existent as I fought against the bindings. The doctor thanked the Captain for his help as he left and made to shut the door upon his departure. 

"Please." A tear trickled down my cheek as I suddenly realized the extent of the situation. "Don't do this."

"Relax. There's no need for the tears. I'm not going to hurt you." He busied himself, gathering tools and such from the cabinets above. He set them on a tray and wheeled it to the front of me, outside my line of sight. Rolling a chair over, he took a seat between my spread legs.

With each passing second my heart rate climbed, and it only rose more when I felt his warm hand graze my inner thigh. But it wasn't flesh I felt...it was latex.

"Have you had a pelvic exam before?" He asked.

I found it hard to focus on his words... All I could think about was how I didn't want to be here, how I should have never have gone to that club. What was Katie thinking right now?! She was probably worried sick. Has someone reported me missing? Do they even know I am gone? I started panicking. What does this benefactor want with me? What will happens when I refuse him?

My breathing quickened and I fought against the restraints as much as I could. I thrashed and pulled and pulled harder over and over.

"Hey now, calm down," The doctor moved to my side, trying to subdue my flailing. With more strength then I knew he possessed he placed his hands on my biceps and began to apply a gentle but strong force to counteract my movements. "You're having a panic attack. I want you to take a deep breath in and let it go, slowly."

Without thinking my body seemed to follow his direction. Deep breath in, release and repeat.

When I had calmed down, he released me.

"Very good." He gave me a reassuring smile. "I know you're scared and unsure what is happening but I will try to walk you through this as I go. As soon as I'm finished I promise I'll let you go." He seemed sincere. "Understood?"

I gave him a brief nod and he returned it with a smirk that vanished just as fast as it appeared.

"Alright then. I'm going to do a basic pelvic exam. This is just to make sure that you don't have any tearing, or unwanted bleeding down there and that everything is functioning normally. It's not painful but you might feel some discomfort.

He walked back around to where I was exposed and swiftly got to work. I could feel him spreading me open with two fingers and I clamped my eyes shut. He slipped a gloved finger in me and moved to the outer edge, exploring the inside of me. It felt strange to me to have feeling so deep inside my body. Just as I was growing accustomed to the sensation, he withdrew his finger.

"You are going to feel something cold, and some minor discomforting but it will be over quick." 

Not a moment after, I felt cold, hard metal sliding in between my legs. My breath was cut off by the sudden intrusion. He twisted the speculum and spread me wide. The feeling was so foreign to me. 

"Almost done." He said. He moved his fingers around my insides again, checking for tearing or abnormalities. Despite never feeling this before, I hated to admit it was somewhat pleasurable. With a quick pressure against my cervix, there was the discomfort he warned me of.

I could not see what he was doing but he busied himself. He withdrew the speculum, and used a cloth to clean me up.

He stood between my legs and said, "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He gave me another relaxed smiles. I couldn't help but to feel relieved that everything was over and he'd let me go now. 

"No. But I'm glad it's over." I said with much relief.

The doctor started setting tools aside, and cleaning up. "Your benefactor will be pleased to know you're a virgin." As said with his back turned towards me. 

My eyebrows lowered. "I told you I was. I don't understand..." I didn't understand why they didn't take my word on it. "Now that you've confirmed I was telling the truth, you said you'd let me go." I was angrier at the fact that I was being called a liar than at being forced to endure an exam I didn't need.

"We're not done yet. I told you I'd let you go when we're finished, and I will."

He rolled an IV stand around from the corner and left it off to the side of my exposed bottom. He sat back down between my legs and donned another pair of gloves.

"What do you mean, 'we're not done?'" I asked in a panic.

Just then I felt a lubricated finger asking for entry at my back door. Shock ran through my body faster than ever before.

"No! Stop!! Please don't!" I shook with panic.

Despite my protests, with a bit more force he had entered my sphincter. "Relax. If you tense your muscles it will only hurt more."

But I couldn't relax. I had been violated more times today than ever before.

He worked his finger in and out slowly. I could feel my tight muscles clenching around his unwanted finger. He continued moving in and out at a steady pace until I relaxed my muscles. When the repetition ceased, my body sank to the table. I hadn't even realized I was so tense.

But it was short lived. I could not see what he was holding but I felt a much larger object being pushed gently into my rectum. I winced in pain as the object passed my sphincter and into my wider canal. He coached my breathing, in and out until I repeated the mantra and then suddenly I could feel a warm liquid filling me. At first it felt nice, despite the foreignness but not long after I began feeling heavy and full.

"Stop!" I yelled, my voice cracked with pain and panic.

"You're nearly done." He said and he rubbed my belly, soothing some of the pain.

I clamped my eyes shut and waited for time to pass, focusing on my breathing. "I'm going to pull the plug out and I want you to squeeze your muscles together until I tell you to release." I gave him a brief nod and he removed the plug. I clenched my sphincter as much as I could while he placed a metal pan just below my bottom.

With the signal from the doctor I let it go. The point where I turned from embarrassed to ashamed had long since passed, so I shut my eyes and pretended to be back home. The doctor moved diligently to clean me up. He unstrapped the stirrups and lowered my legs, pulling out a cushioned slab for them to rest on.

I was exhausted. Physically my muscles were worn and sore, but emotionally I was worse off. Today I had experienced so much more than I ever wish to. Panic. Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Anger. But above all, I felt determined to push through this. To survive this.

I was brought back to the here and now when the doctor swabbed my arm with an alcohol pad. Before I could object, he had positioned a weird looking syringe on the inside of my arm and with a swift movement injected a small metal rod just below the surface of my skin.

"What the hell?!" I screamed.

"It's just birth control. This metal rod will just slide in under the skin. With this you shouldn't have any periods and most importantly, any kids. The benefactor would be most displeased if you ended up pregnant. You'll have some minor pain at the injection site but it should dissipate within a few days." He moved to undo the restraints, leaving my wrists for last. 

When he was finished he grabbed a robe from the cabinet and handed it to me. I didn't seem as rushed to cover myself as before. There wasn't anything he hadn't already seen.

"The guards will escort you back to your room. I suggest you get some sleep. You'll start your training tomorrow." He looked me over with empathetic eyes but how could he understand what I just endured and why hadn't he stopped it? He could have and yet he stood there with a sense of empathy...even if it was false. I was beginning to lose any respect I had for this man.

I was escorted back to my room with a guard on each arm and two more in front and back. They really weren't taking any chances this time. 

The room they referred to as my own was as I left it previously this morning. I made my way to the bathroom and turning the shower to a comforting heat. Letting the silk gown fall to the ground, I stepped into the shower. In that moment I felt the water wash away the imaginary filth. My anger seeped to the ground. My embarrassment and shame pooled at the bottom of my feet. My panic and pain swirled down the drain leaving me with a feeling of emptiness. An emptiness with a flicker of hope and as I stood there, that seed grew into something much more. Drive. They had stripped me of my rights, violated my body, waged an emotional war upon me but what they left behind was so much more powerful. They gave me the drive that I so desperately needed.

I started to realize then no matter what they threw at me, no matter the tests and trials I was forced to endure, I would leave this place. And I wouldn't look back.



Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 03



I woke to the familiar beep of my door unlocking. Several men in navy blue and white uniforms swarmed the room. My heart began to race as I realized they had come for me.

The shimmering light coming through the window told me that it was still early in the morning. The men quickly made their way to the edge of my bed, pulling me to my feet. The silk gown I had been given the night before was the only cover I had to hide my body from them.

Taking advantage of the guard's loose grip to my right, I elbowed him square in the jaw. He was slow to react; it wasn't until he tasted the blood on his lip that he realized what I'd done. I could see the fury in his eyes igniting an inferno.

With a quick reflex he twisted my arm behind my back, sending a winding path of pain through my arm and into my shoulder blades. 

"You're going to regret that, bitch!" 

He yanked me out of the room and into the hall. Then painfully forced me to walk, center in a group of soldiers. The pain was intense but the man never let up, in fact, he twisted my arm, making my skin sting. It was clear that he found pleasure in this. 

After quite some distance maneuvering the grounds, we approached an elevator and I hoped he didn't intend on stuffing all of us in there. As I looked around, I noticed the Captain turning the corner. It was late in the night or early in the morning—I wasn't sure, but one thing was certain... He wasn't an early riser. His face was worn with exhaustion and fatigue and it was clear he was in a foul mood. 

I was starting to believe he was generally always like that. He grumbled. "Sawyer, take her downstairs. He is waiting." He noticed Sawyer's bloody lip and the uncomfortable hold he had me in and seemed to understand what had happened. "And when you're finished, take a few men to unload the next shipment. The doctor will meet you in the bay." 

I wondered what the shipment was and why the doctor need to be present. That seemed odd to me but my thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Sawyer gave me a quick jerk and pushed me into the elevator. The doors didn't shut right away. Instead I noticed that this elevator was unlike other ones I had been in. Sawyer placed is card on the reader next to all of the buttons but nothing happened. It wasn't until a second guard placed his badge on the reader on the other side of the door that the buttons lit up. Sawyer selected 'LL' which I assumed meant Lower Level. I thought this was strange until I read the other options on the keypad. They were taking me three levels below ground...

I was starting to feel uneasy. This certainly minimized my chances at escaping. My stomach rolled as we started moving down. The farther and farther we moved into the ground, the smaller my chances were...

I had to stay alert and focus on my ways out. When the elevator doors opened I was pushed forward into a dark hallway. It was hard to see anything but I suspected that was the point. They lead me into a room off to the left. The door locked almost immediately after we entered. I was taken across the length of the room to another door that locked again after entry.

I was beginning to think my captors were paranoid but then again, if I had kidnapped someone and didn't want them seeing the light of day again, I would be too. The room they led me into was dark with a faint glow of accent light coming from ceiling, illuminating a foot of the wall all the way around the room. I was pushed onto my knees in the center of the room. Sawyer placed a steel cuff around my ankle, tethering me to a long metal chain that was fastened to the ground. By the looks of it, I had a four, maybe five foot radius.

Without warning, Sawyer slapped me with such force I briefly lost vision. My cheek burned from the blow. I could almost feel the red growing on my cheek. The pain eased faster that I had expected, but the initial shock remained.

"Hart is going to have fun breaking you, that's for sure." He laughed, his voice dark and disturbing but it was cut short almost immediately. I tried to launch myself at him but another guard was standing on the chain and wouldn't allow me to get up from the kneeling position.

"You may leave us now." I couldn't see who spoke but his voice was familiar. It was smooth, calm and collected. Sawyer backed away, almost cowardly.

Without another word, Sawyer and his men left, leaving me alone with this strange man. The room was quiet—almost too quiet. I couldn't hear anything. I was starting to believe I was alone again when a center spotlight dimmed on in front of me. The man moved into the light, carrying a chair. He set it down and gracefully took a seat. Everything about him was smooth. His voice, his movements, even the way he held himself. He seemed at ease with himself, yet at the same time in control. 

It wasn't until I really looked at him that I recognized him. I understood now why I thought his silky voice was so familiar—it was the same reason I recognized those piercing green eyes. The same man who decided my fate, some time ago at the club sat before me, and oddly enough, my fate seemed yet again, in his hands.

I wanted to plead with him right then and there. I wanted to beg him let me go. Because under that messy, tousled hair look, the mysterious eyes, and beauty lay something that shook me to the core. I was scared of this man. I couldn't pin-point exactly what it was, but deep-down, this man had me on edge. I was frightened at the idea of what he was going to do to me. So I didn't say anything. I didn't move from my spot but instead gazed across the room at him. Catching my stare, he held it, neither of us moving.

It felt like a test to me. As if he was sizing me up, trying to understand me. I felt uncomfortable to say the least, until he broke our silence. 

"Do you know who I am?" he asked. He was clear and concise in his speech which led me to believe he was educated with much more than a simple high school diploma. 

He waited patiently for me to respond. Despite everything he had done to get me here, he seemed perfectly content in waiting for me to come around. It seemed odd that someone would go to such lengths to abduct a person and idly sit by for a response. 

But I could not bite my tongue any longer. "I know you are the man that drugged me and set all of this is motion" I gestured to the room but meant everything else that happened since that night. He seemed to understand. "I know you're the sick son of a bitch that kidnaps helpless women." My voice way fueled by my raged, yet he didn't even flinch at my words. "I know what you want from me. To be some kind of fucked up sex toy—to be at your beck and call." I spat at him, missing his foot by a few inches. 

He smiled, even chuckled at my hostility, which only made me madder. He thought I was funny. "What about this situation is funny?! Seriously?!"

"Nothing. You're quite right. You just reminded me of a friend, that's all." He stood and removed the suit jacket, letting it rest on the back of the chair. "So, let's be serious here." He slid his hands in his pockets, and began pacing around me. "You're chained to the floor, three levels below ground, with....hmmm..."he paused to think, "Seven state-of-the-art electronic security keypads separating you from the front door, on a jungle terrain island, with six hundred miles of ocean separating you from the rest of society... Yes. It seems a sense of humor won't save you." 

"So what, you're saying I should just give up? That I have no hope of getting off this island?" I asked.

"No at all. It wouldn't be fun if you simply gave up. You will be allowed to leave but when is entirely up to you and your actions." He stopped in front of me, perching down on the pads of his toes so that we were eye level. "All you have to do is submit." He stood, and began pacing the room. 

"I would rather die."

His eyebrows furrowed with disapproval. "There is no need for such talk. No one is going to kill you, yourself included. Willingly submitting yourself is not as bad as you think. I'm not sure what has drawn you to such a negative image of the idea, but I assure you, it will be more pleasurable than painful to do so. I do not aim to beat a woman. Pain is most commonly associated with punishments and you will not be punished unless you are knowingly disobedient." He stopped in his tracks, lost in thought it seemed. "For instance, the stunt you pulled with Doctor Matron's ID badge—that was completely and utterly unacceptable. If you had pulled that stunt as my slave, your life would have been living hell...." He made his way back to the chair in front of me. "However, I overlooked the matter, given light of the situation and your lack of training. Nonetheless, I trust you're eager to begin Miss Heed?" he arched one eyebrow in daring amusement.

I gave him the most dumbfounded look I could muster which only made him laugh. "By all means, Mr. Hart, begin." I said sarcastically.

"I really do enjoy that mouth of yours. But don't be mistaken, pet, overuse it and you'll be drooling through a ball gag."

I couldn't hide the shock on my face fast enough. He caught it and seemed generally pleased by my disbelief. 

"Stand up." He demanded. 

I stood slowly, unsure what he was going to do. He moved closer to me, circling like a vulture. I watched him as he walked around, evaluating me. "Eyes forward." He calmly said. And so I ignored my better judgement and looked forward. He made another full circle around me, lost in thought. Eventually he stopped behind me, out of sight. His hands ventured around my waist but before I could protest he had swiftly and diligently untied my robe and pulled it from my shoulders, leaving me exposed and helpless.

"Hey!" I turned around to try grab the fabric from him but he had already disposed of it out of sight.

He returned to the chair in front of me, watching me cover myself up. I crossed my knees and covered my breasts as best I could to hide my nudity. "I had suspected you had a poor self-image. It seems I was right."

"My self-image is just fine." I snapped.

"Well it appears to me that you are trying to hide such a beautiful body. There is no need. I assure you." He said calmly.

"I'm not hiding my body because I am ashamed. I am hiding it because I am modest. Why should the man like you be allowed to look at me naked? Why should I reward you?" I snap.

"Because I own you." He said matter of factly. I opened my mouth to protest but he raised his hand to silence me. "It's fitting you mentioned reward." He smiled, "I was just about to discuss the rules, rewards, and punishments. But to make it interesting, let's start with a little game. He moved off to the side, disappearing into the dark to return a moment later with three tiny boxes in his hands. He set them on the ground in front of me. "In each one of these boxes is a key. Each key is unlike the other in appearance. One key will grant you a fleeting moment of freedom. One key is a skeleton key, giving you access to every door on this island, including the front floor. Find it and I will let you walk out of here—no one will stop you."

"What about the third key?" I asked.

"The third key unlocks a room full of pains and punishments. You may choose one, but I cannot tell you which one you have chosen. You must figure that out for yourself."

I thought long and hard about my decision. A chance at freedom was so tempting. He said himself that no one would stop me from leaving. But if I chose wrong, I could be led into a world of hurt. He said with punishment came pain. It was a risk I had to take though. I reached for the box on the far right and quickly opened it to find a silver antique key with a red tassel tethered on the end. It felt heavy in my hands, no doubt pure silver or something of the sort. He gathered up the remaining two boxes and set them out of sight.

Keeping his gaze, I stood up, ready to launch at the door to see if the key I had chosen was the one to let me out of the room and give me the freedom that I so desire but just as I made my way to the door I was stopped in my tracks. I had forgotten about the metal clasp around my ankle anchoring me in place, forcing me to maintain a small radius. 

And then I noticed the small keyhole off to the side of the metal shackle and moved quickly to see if the key I had chosen was a fit. I tried the key every which way possible but it didn't unlock. I look over at him to find him studying me, somehow amused.

"No! Ugh." I yanked on the chain but it did not budge. "There was never any hope to leaving. You tricked me! Even if I had gotten the skeleton key I would still be chained. You would not have let me go!! I would have needed a second key to unlock the shackle around my ankle." Anger curdled deep in my stomach. I threw the key at him, it bounced off his chest and fell to the floor, clanging a few times before coming to rest.

"You're right. Rule number one: Escape is not an option, so do not attempt it. This game was merely designed to show you that despite the opportunities presented, the temptations you might have at running—you'll never be able to escape me. And for some miraculous reason you do manage to get away—I will find you. I will always find you." His face was serious, scary almost because deep down I knew what he was saying was true. He meant every word of it. "I can see you're a clever girl and that you won't give up but know that trying to escape will warrant severe punishment."

"Ahhh!" I screamed, fueled by my anger at what that this man was doing. I lunged at him with as much speed as I could. He stood there and watched as I hastily approached, unaffected by my charge. I was thrown back by the chain, leaving him a few inches out of my reach. And he knew it too. He calmly stood there, with a disapproving look on his face. Unfazed, he removed a small black remote from his pocket, no bigger than a credit card. I watched him, curious, and even more determined to retaliate.

With our eyes locked on one another, he pushed the button on the remote. The sound of a machine started to whirl and I was thrown to the ground. I had used my hands to catch myself, minimizing impact but it still hurt. Looking over my shoulder I was able to see the chain disappearing into the ground, drawing me back to its point of anchor. 

When there was only six inches of chain left, the machined silenced, leaving me several feet from my target, but it seemed so much father. 

"Consider that a warning." His voice, harsh and crisp.

I pulled myself into a small embrace, my knees touching my chest and arms wrapping around them. I was suddenly cold; I wasn't sure if it was from the temperature in the room or his frigid voice.

"Rule number two. You will not hide your body from me." He moved closer into my circle, and yet still out of my reach. "Stand up." He said.

I didn't move. When I refused to move or even look at him, I could tell he was becoming agitated. He moved out of my sight again, somewhere behind me and returned a moment later with something in his hands.

"Hold out your wrists." He said.

I don't know what came over me, but I was suddenly too pissed off to do as he instructed. And apparently he wasn't too happy either. He grabbed my right wrists and quickly secured a black sleeve over my hand, clasping a thin metal band at the base. I tried to fight back but he was too strong. With every pull I tried to muster he only gripped my hand harder. After securing my left wrist in the same type of brace, he snapped a metal clip between the two and then secured it to a chain hanging from the ceiling that I hadn't noticed earlier.

He moved behind me again and with another whine of a machine, I was hoisted unexpectedly off the ground and onto my toes. I lost my footing and swiveled back and forth, trying to regain my balance. My toes barely touched the ground causing me to focus on staying en pointe. By the time he made his way back around to my front, I had stopped flailing around—mostly.

"That's much better." He smiled. "Now, I can see all of you." He moved around me, in and out of sight.

"Let me go you sick fuck!" I screamed. I tried to fight against the restraints but I was only cast off into another spin cycle.

"Rule number three. No profanities. I am quite sour about them. It's disrespectful to me and to yourself. What kind of lady does that make you with a mouth of a sailor?" He paused. "An unattractive one, truthfully. And you've been quite the sailor since coming here." He moved into my view and I could see the clear disappointment in his eyes. "Failure to comply with this rule and you will be punished. And let me suggest you filter what you're going to say next because thus far you've been given three rules and have already broken two of them. Quite a record already pet."

I bit down as hard as I could to keep from saying anything. In all honesty I had never been much for cursing but after everything I had been through the past few days, it felt good to be angry. I had a right to be. I had been abducted and was now strung up naked like a deer in a hunter's garage for all to see. 

And the most disturbing part was the man who sat in front of me knew exactly what he was doing. He thrived on gaining control. It was clear in the way he had handled me from day one. He was calculated and meticulous, thinking of everything little detail. His men were afraid of him and yet more loyal than a dog to his master. Even the Captain took orders from him. 

And here I was trying to defy him. I didn't stand a chance. What was I thinking?

I was thinking that what this man was doing was wrong, and I knew if I submitted to him I would lose any and all hopes of ever getting off this island. I was scared of losing myself in the process. I was thinking I didn't want to be a slave to some man—despite how good looking he was. I might be innocent and naïve in nature but I was strong. I would do whatever it took to survive the man, no matter what he did to me.

"Lost for words my dear?" 

I smiled, because for the first time I felt a surge of power. "Go. To. Hell." I clearly enunciated every word to add emphasis. 

He chuckled, clearly enthralled by my lack of obedience and the opportunity of a challenge. "I know what you're doing and you will soon regret it." He pulled out the remote from his pocket and pressed a button that caused a few lights in front of me to dim on. Against the wall a dresser was revealed. Smooth, modern design with a black finish and a red glass surface. He made his way over to the chest, opened the first drawer from the top and grabbed what looked like a ball gag. He began making his way back to me.

"If you cannot speak properly then you will not be permitted to speak." As he moved closer, my heart started racing faster. "Open your mouth."

I only clamped my jaw shut even harder than before. He seemed to realize this almost immediately after my doing so. With one hand he grabbed my jaw and applied a severe amount of pressure which forced me to open my mouth. With a swift movement he shoved the gag into my mouth and began fastening the clasp around my head.

I was beginning to panic. I had never experienced anything like it and I was frightened I couldn't breathe. He read the fear in my eyes and assured me that I wouldn't suffocate. He returned again to the dresser with a weird looking whip in his hand. The handle appeared to be made of a black, thick leather, with a gold intricate cap at the base of the handle. Another gold ring separated the handle and the black leather strands as they swayed with his gate. "This is a flogger." He said as he played with the leather strings, letting them fall through his fingers. "I warned you that if you kept up with the profanities you would be punished, and I am a man of my word. You will receive eight hits." He moved behind me, out of sight.




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 03



Fear struck deep in my core and I tried to fight against the restraints. The first hit came as a surprise as I bellowed out a muffled cry. My butt and lower backside was covered in remnants of a sting unlike anything else I had ever felt. "One." He counted. As the pain began to dissipate, another blow landed, making the previous hit feel much softer. "Two." The repetition continued—a swift hit, a painful sting, an ebbing pain followed by a more painful blow.

By the fifth blow, tears had stained my cheeks, my knees shook and my cries had become chokes. "Five." He said. Waiting for the next hit felt like hours but I knew that was just my brain working in anticipation. "Six." Nearly every muscle in my body was rigid with tension. My jaw ached at being pried open for so long that drool and begun to pool at the corners of my mouth. 

I cried out in pain with the seventh blow. My body shook. It was at that moment I knew I couldn't take anymore but I needed to. I needed to show him that I was stronger—that my will to survive was stronger than any pain he could inflict. So I held back the cries as best I could and braced myself for the final strike.

The air whirled as the strands of leather passed through the air. The leather bit my skin at contact sending a spider web effect of pain throughout my backside. "Eight." He said. Just then I released a breath of air I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

Without warning, he released the chain and I fell to the ground in a messy pile. I rested my head on the ground, too sore to move just yet. The cold floor soothed the pain. 

He crouched down to my level, but all I could see was his Oxford leather shoes and neatly hemmed pant legs. He held up my hands, working diligently to remove the restraints and the slack chain. With the restraints gone he helped me up so that I was sitting awkwardly on my legs. After some time of me trying to avoid eye contact, he gently placed a finger under my chin and brought my gaze up to his. 

I could still feel the tears running down my face involuntarily. He grabbed a strand of hair that stuck to my cheek and brushed it off to the side. But when I looked at him his eyes were no longer the mystic green but a hollowing black that echoed depths. This man was a monster.

"Don't you see? You're in charge of your future. The decisions you make from today forward dictate how comfortable your life is. I suggest you spend some time to decide which lifestyle you prefer." He let go of my chin and my gaze fell. I couldn't respond to him through the ball gag but in truth I had nothing to say to him.

Without another word he got up and left, leaving me anchored to the floor in a dim circle of light surrounded by darkness. That was how I was beginning to feel. The light was my flicker of hope in a world of dark twisted nightmares. 

I laid back down on the cold hard floor and focused on breathing. My mind was empty. No thought of escape, no thought of my past life or even what was in store. Just a void. 

I must have drifted off to sleep because I woke some time later. My head pounded, my eyes were sore from the tears and my backside ached from the flogging. 

Strangely, I was no longer chained to the floor but instead, I was in what appeared to be a modernized version of a cell. The twin-sized bed I was laying on was raised two feet from the ground, tucked into the grey tile clad wall. Someone had covered me with an off-white knit blanket that was surprisingly warm for how thin it was. The room appeared to be no larger than five by six feet with a large glass wall directly across from the bed. I swung my legs around and leapt off the bed onto the heated concrete floor. I rushed to find the door but when I touched the glass the strangest thing happened—I was shocked. I pulled my hand back in surprise. The shock wasn't painful but certainly uncomfortable.

Without touching the glass I began searching for a seam, anything that would point to the location of a door. But what I discovered was baffling. There was...no door. At least not one I could find. 

Off to the right was a very minimalistic stainless steel toilet and sink. I noticed I was still naked so I made my way back to the bed and wrapped myself in the blanket. To much of my surprise, the room seemed to be at a comfortable temperature.

"Good, I see you're awake." I was startled to find Mr. Hart standing on the other side of the glass. He was holding a plate of food and a bottled water. After a quick punch of numbers into a keypad, the glass slid into the wall adjacent to it, creating a doorway.

"I brought you something." The door slid shut as he stepped through. He moved to sit by my side but when I flinched, he stopped in his tracks and instead, set the tray and water on the bed next to me. 

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're still in the lower levels, if that's what you're wondering. When I returned you were asleep so I carried you here."

"Am I supposed to thank you?" I said annoyingly. "You've downgraded me from a luscious five star room to a five by six cell. Is that supposed to scare me into submission?" I asked, my voice portraying more courage that I really had. "I am not frightened by the lack of amenities... So it seems your tactics are failing."

"Haha." He laughed. "I'm glad you still have that mouth of yours. My tactics are just fine. They have an undefeatable track record." He chuckled. "It's fascinating actually, it seems my men have placed wagers on how long it will take to break you."

"Is that what I am to you? A wager?" I ask. I could not hide the disgust from my voice.

Without answering my question he slid his hands in his pocket and retrieved a key card, turning for the door. "I suggest you eat up. You'll need your strength for our first lesson." He turned just before exiting. "I'm going to teach you an effective way of using that smart mouth of yours."

At the moment I realized what he meant I grabbed the only thing I could and threw it at him. The tray of food splattered on the glass wall, just as it closed leaving him safely behind the spray of food. The floor was lined with peas, potatoes, what looked like meatloaf and a roll. Without so much as a glance he walked away, ignoring me as if I was a two year old child throwing a tantrum. 

I curled up in the blanket and turned to the wall. My stomach rumbled but I wasn't about to eat off the floor. Somehow it felt like admitting defeat. But I reached for the water at the edge of the bed and nearly finished the bottle in a matter of seconds. 

Night—or day, I wasn't sure since I hadn't been around a clock since they pulled me from my bed upstairs. And strangely, Mr. Hart never wore a watch around me. Perhaps it was his way of gaining control on yet another aspect of my life. Admittingly, not knowing the time upset me. I had lost track of how long I had been here but I suspect it's already been a week, maybe two since they took me.

Sleep failed to come. My thoughts ran all over the place. What was in store next? He had told me enough to speculate but I hoped I was wrong.

I woke to the sound of someone in my room. But when I opened my eyes to see who was there, I was surprised to see a young woman, no older than mid-twenties. She had beautiful black hair, a tan complexion and was dressed in a simple low cut silk dress. The only jewelry she wore was a silver bangle.

"Who are you?" I asked.

When she avoided eye contact and evaded answering the question, I asked her again, but she remained silent. She was cleaning the remnants of my dinner that I threw the night before. Or however long it had been since I had fallen asleep.

I got out of bed, grabbing her shoulder I pulled her up from the ground as that I might ask her again. "Who are you?"

She bowed her head, directing her eyes down and softly said, "Master has forbidden me to talk to you." She went back to picking up the food much faster than before, eager to finish the task and leave.

"Master? What do you mean by that?" My voice was panicky. "Answer me! Were you kidnapped too? Is that bastard keeping you here too?" I waited for her to respond, studying her face hoping to get some kind of clue as to who this woman was and how she was connected to this place. As I watched her pick the food up, I noticed the back of her hands were scarred. "Did he do that to you?" I asked.

When she remained quiet and I started helping her pick up the food, hoping that it would help her trust me. When the food was all picked up she moved for the door, never making eye contact.

"Wait!" I yelled. "Take me with you." When the door opened, I rushed to leave but she halted right in the middle of my exit. 

In a soft whispering voice, she said, "He is not a bad man." In my moment of confusion that I heard her right, she had left and swiftly moved out of sight, leaving me standing there like a statue. When I had gathered my thoughts I noticed she had brought me some clothes. It wasn't much, just a simple grey dress, void of any expression. It hugged my small waist and flared at my hips, but was short—stopping only at my mid-thigh. 

As if my life couldn't get any gloomier. As that was my luck—Sawyer and a few of his soldier buddies were here to collect me.

"Mmm. Look at that boys." Sawyer said. He wore this ugly smirk on his face.

"I'd like to fuck that." Another said.

"Yeah, man I bet she's a wild one!" A gross chuckle echoed through the room.

"I'd never let you." I said in anger.

He grabbed my jaw, squeezing my cheeks. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, you little slut." With that, he let go, shoving my face down. "I will fuck you senseless, when you least suspect it. And the best part is no one would believe a slave like you." He laughed and grabbed my upper arm, forcing me out into the hallway.

I listened to their nasty banter back and forth while we rode the elevator up into the main house. A younger looking guard, with blonde hair and brown eyes told the others how he snuck into the slave quarters and took a dainty blonde by force. He explained in details of her screams and how tight her pussy was and that if she ever told anyone he would come back and string her up in chains. He was cocky and arrogant and so full of himself but they all seemed that way.

When the elevator stopped I noticed we were on the second floor. They led me past a large glass curtain wall that overlooked the garden courtyard below. I wanted to look more but Sawyer jerked me forward again. 

We arrived at large, oversized wooden French doors. The two guards posted at the door opened the door for us and Sawyer pushed me forward.

Hart was sitting at a very large ornate carved desk, with multiple computer monitors. He looked up and saw us standing there. Without saying a word he dismissed everyone. Sawyer backed out of the room and the doors shut, leaving me alone with Hart.

It was weird to see him doing normal human tasks, such as paperwork. He continued working, without acknowledging me so I started to wander about his office. It was quite large. The ceilings were vaulted and decorated with ornate trimmings and details. The walls were lined with magnificent bookshelves, home to mostly classic books like The Count of Monte Cristo and The Art of War. I brushed my hand across the books, remembering what it was like to be able to read whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I missed it. I missed the feeling of escaping in the books as if the stories themselves were all around me.

And the artwork was grand, no doubt original pieces of work. Off to the left was a window; I quickly made my way to it wanting so desperately to know what the outside looked like. We were high up off the ground, with a rock beach below. The waves were cresting and I could just barely hear the fall of the water on the rocks. Off in the distance I could see tropical vegetation, much like the plants you'd find in a rain forest. 

Hart seems occupied with his work so I continued wandering around the room. I ventured back to the window, gauging the distance down to the ground, wondering if it was an acceptable height to jump. Unfortunately, I couldn't imagine jumping at this height and surviving unscathed. Even then, there was a security alarm on the windows if it should be opened. They would know of my plans before I got far. 

Every day I spent here was beginning to look more like a prison. 

"Hhm-umm." I turned to see him clearing his throat. "Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured to the oversized cushioned chair off to the side of his desk. Hesitantly I made my way around the room and sat down. Hart circled around his desk but eventually decided to sit on the corner of his desk. 

"I trust you slept well...?" He asked.

"You know, I actually slept like a baby." I gave him the biggest grin I could managed.

Smirking, he said, "Glad to hear it." He moved around to his desk, searching for something. 

"How are you feeling? A bit exhausted, perhaps hungry?" He toyed with me. 

He was just baiting me. "I've never felt better. How about you? Everyone is always asking me how I feel, but no one ever asks you." Instead, I flipped the direction of attention back to himself. 

"And for good reason too. My men know better than to pry into my personal life." He said flatly. 

I laughed. "But you have no problem turning everyone else's life inside out...? Strange, perhaps you weren't raised to acknowledge boundary lines... You know... like kidnapping and holding hostage a person?!!" My voice was oozing with sarcasm and yet a bit of anger. I was so tired of his shit, it was about time someone dished it back to him.

"Ha." He chuckled as he moved around his desk. He began pouring two glasses of scotch. "I really do enjoy that mouth. Despite everything, you still seem eager to hold on to your freewill." 

He handed me a crystal glass with liquor. "I wasn't aware I had any freewill." 

He sat back on the edge of his desk, with his scotch in hand. "And a fast learner you are." He smiled and raised his glass. "To smart mouths and dwindling freewills." 

With a nasty grimace, I threw back my drink. When I brought the cup down, I found Hart watching me. And suddenly I felt like a mouse walking right into a trap. "I remember that night at the club. I remember looking for you. It didn't take me long to find you, surprisingly." He smiled. "You were sitting by yourself, lost in thought." He paused and began moving around the desk. "You were smiling but I could tell it was just a façade—you didn't want to be there. To be honest, neither did I. So when I saw you, I knew I had to act fast." He paused. "I ordered a drink, and with a quick flip of the wrist, slipped a little something in it, and sent it your way."

I stared at the empty glass in my hand. Had he just...? Fear struck me when I realized how stupid I was.

"Relax. I didn't drug you." Quietly, he retrieved my glass and set them next to the decanter. "I didn't have to. You did it for me." He said.

I could feel the alcohol's effect already. With one drink like that, I shouldn't feel this intoxicated. But I did. I looked to him for an explanation.

"You forgot the basic rule of drinking." He smirked. "You, Miss Heed have not eaten in over 24 hours. You have nothing in your stomach to slow the alcohol from entering your bloodstream, therefore it enters faster and at a higher level of concentration, leaving you far more intoxicated sooner."

"So you planned on getting me drunk...why?" I asked. "Surely you have some kind of alternative motive."

"Indeed I do. I told you we were going to work on that smart mouth of yours and I keep my word." Before I could move, he pushed me back down with one hand. "Easy." The rush of movement made my head sway.

"Is this how you gain control of your slaves? By using drugs and alcohol to do what you can't?" I barked at him. "Seems like you can't do it alone. You need influences to make me weak. It's sad really. And a shame—that you're not a real man." I spat at him. 

He gripped my jaw so tight, I was afraid he was going to break bone. In a calm tone he said, "The alcohol was not for my benefit. It was for yours. I wanted you to relax seeing as this will be your first time, but I won't be so considerate next time." He pulled me to my feet, nearly dragging me to open floor behind the couch.

He pushed me down onto my knees. The hardwood floors bit into my skin and was painful. He moved out of site and returned just a quickly with a metal gag in hand. "I was hoping I wasn't going to have to use this. And that this would be a relaxing introduction; however, you seem persistent in testing me. So this will not be as pleasant as I had hoped. At least not for you."

Gripping my jaw once more he forced my mouth open, placing a large spider gag in my mouth. I tried to resist him but with alcohol and my weak body, there wasn't much of a fight. He gripped my hair tight as he unzipped his pants and his erection sprang forward. He was long in length, unsurprisingly circumcised. He was not overly thick in circumference but well equipped—that was for sure. If the situation had been different and I had met Hart as a single woman, I might have thought sex with him could have been enjoyable.

"I want you to remember that this could have played out differently." He said as he plunged his large penis in my mouth, muffling my screams further. 

He pushed into me with such force, I felt the breath leaving my body. With both hands he gripped my hair, rocking my head back and forth with a steady rhythm. I could feel each pulse, the flesh of his penis. And I was helpless to stop it. 

He moaned as he thrust deeper, making me choke on him and the saliva. He pulled out briefly—only long enough for me to catch my breath and then thrust forward again. He was anything but gentle. I tried to push him away but he only pulled my hair harder.

"Remember this." He said, thrusting harder and faster. My teeth grazed him and spit pooled, dripping from my mouth. With each thrust I could taste a sweet saltiness I had never experienced before. He grazed the back of my throat, making me gag but he didn't stop. His whole body went rigid in anticipation for his release. "I hope you're hungry." He said. I pushed with all my might against him but there was no point. His grip was strong and his body stiff. He didn't move and I could feel the orgasm building within him.

He pulled back slightly and launched his load into my mouth as he made his release. He looked down on me with a sated grin, all too content to have had his way. He stroked himself, pushing the remaining juices out, aimed for my face. 

I forced myself not to swallow, but with him finished, he unbuckled the gag with one hand and pulled it from my grip. I was suddenly free to move my jaw and wanted nothing but to spit his cum out but before I could, he shoved my jaw shut and ordered me to swallow. 

"There you go." He said, pleased as I swallowed him back. He let me go and I immediately started coughing, wanting nothing but to be rid of his taste in my mouth. He chuckled as he zipped his pants and fixed his tie. "You know, it's so easy to forget the date when I am out here. Do you know what day it is today?" He asked. It was clear he was baiting me.

I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to play his games anymore. I just wanted to be locked in my cell and forget what had just happened. "Firstly," I said, "I highly doubt you are the type of person to forget what day it is with you control freak tendencies." He arched his eyebrows in warning. "And secondly, how do you expect me to know what day it is when you haven't shown me a fucking clock since bringing me here." I said as in the anger in my body boiled. 

His expression went from content to pissed. "I warned you about the foul language, Miss Heed." I was suddenly frightened of what he might do. Would he whip me again? Or would he find some new sick twisted way to make me hurt?" But instead he turned his back to me and made his way over to the desk. "Would you like to know what day it is?" He asked, returning to stand in front of me, a folder in hand. 




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 03



"Not really." I snapped. 

"Today is June 4th." He watched me as he told me the date, waiting for it to register. As soon as I realized the significance of the day, my eyebrows dipped in confusion. How could he possibly know the importance of this day for me? But what was more disturbing is that he knew. He knew today was the anniversary of my parents death and he was using it to get a spark out of me.

Subconsciously, I bunched the ends of my dress up in my hands, fiddling with the trim. 

"You're some sick bastard! That's a new low. First you force yourself on me and then bring up my dead parents?!" I couldn't calm down. "You have no right. I honestly can't believe by bringing up my dead parents that you would think I would trust you. How do you think this is okay? Seriously? What did you hope to accomplish?" I threw my hand up in rage. "Is this some kind of mind fuck? Is that what this is?! You think by knowing my past and what makes me hurt that you're one step closer to controlling me? I shook my head and tried to look at him but I couldn't. I didn't want to but I forced myself to level with him. "You can try to break me physically. You can try break me emotionally. And you can try your fucking hardest to break me mentally. And maybe you'll succeed. But I want you to know that I will never submit to you willingly... Each time you push me, I will push back ten times harder. I want you to know that."

With every step he took towards me, I held my ground. I was not going to falter. He stopped when he was a foot from me, our faces were so close as he looked down at me. "We'll see about that." He said in an icy, calculated voice. 

We were interrupted with a knock at the door and a servant entering. "Mr. Hart, Mr. Savoy is here to see you. He is waiting in the den." Hart nodded briefly and the man disappeared. Without another word, Hart left me standing in the middle of the floor, placing the folder he had in his hand on the nearby table. As soon as the door shut, I collapsed to my knees. I wanted to cry, to mourn my parents as I did every year on this day. But today was different. Somehow, I knew that mourning them would do me no good. I needed to survive. I need to be strong for them. 

I grabbed the folder out of curiosity and began searching through its contents. It was the police report from my parent's accident and a series of photos. I gasped when I saw the tragic photos of my mother lying on the ground; her face was bloodied and bruised from being thrown from the vehicle. And my dad still held in place by the seatbelt, was dangled upside-down when the vehicle stopped on its backside.

I couldn't bear to look at the photos anymore so I pushed them aside. There was one last paper in the back of the folder. Highlighted in the text it read, "The sole survivor of the accident was one, Abbigail Heed."

I didn't understand why Hart would have a file on the accident or why he had gone to such lengths to dig up my past. It made me wonder what else had he discovered of me. Before I could investigate further, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. I gathered all the papers and shoved them back into the folder, laying it back onto the table. 

The Captain had come to collect me. We walked in silence as he led me back down to the lower levels. He opened my cell door and without a word, I walked in. Oddly, I felt safe in there, away from Sawyer and his men, but more importantly, away from Hart and his fucked up mind games. 

I washed my face and tried my best to get the dried residue from my hair. I looked like a mess. My throat was sore and my body ached. Fortunately the hunger pains had subsided, so I decided to try and get some sleep. 

I woke to a dip forming in my bed. Startled, I jumped upright, causing my head to spin. 

"Easy there. I'm just here to help." A soft, and familiar voice said.

The doctor was sitting on the edge of my bed. I pushed myself up into a ball, not wanting to trust him after our last encounter. "Did he send you?" I asked.

"Does it matter if he sent me or if I am here on my own accord?" He asked. When I didn't answer he retrieved his stethoscope from his bag. I watched him intently as he made his way closer. He motioned for me to drop the blanket but I did not.

"It's going to be awfully hard to examine you if you're being so guarded." The doctor said.

"Answer me. Did Hart send you?" I said. 

"If I do, will you let me check you out?" He bargained. 

After some thought, I nodded. Even if I didn't, they would find another way to get what they wanted.

With a sigh, the doctor responded, "No, Hart doesn't know I am down here. I suspect he will soon though." He motioned for me once again to drop the blanket and I did. He worked quietly, only giving me commands to take a deep breath or to hold my gaze at his finger while he checked my pupil's response. He felt around my neck and glands and asked if I felt sore.

"I'm going to give you a numbing spray. It will alleviate the soreness, and help with the pain. It will need to be applied every few hours so I will have someone down here to help you." He asked me to open up and gave me a few quick sprays of something. Immediately I could feel the numbing start to work. The soreness ebbed away almost instantly. 

"Now, Hart has mentioned to me that you haven't eaten in quite some time. I had guessed he would have tried to use that to his advantage in the moment but somehow I have a feeling he already has. But nonetheless, he pays me to keep you in well health and that's what I intend to do."

The doctor produced a small cup of pills and explained to me that they were vitamins and supplements and that they'd help me keep up my strength. Despite everything he had done to me, he hadnot lied about what he was giving me, so I took the pills and swallowed them. He handed me a bottled water and that too I drank ferociously. I hadn't realized how dehydrated I truly was until then.

"Your food will be here any minute now. I have increase the portion sizes for a few days so I suggest you eat as much as you can before they come to retrieve the tray. I've also added a protein shake to your daily regimen and you should receive one each morning." With that he began to pack up his bag. He was caught off guard when I rested my hand on his arm, steadying him.

"Thank you," I said, "I never thought that I would have to wonder where my next meal was coming from. I appreciate everything you've done for me." I smiled.

He returned the gesture, glad that he could help and ever more glad that I accepted and appreciated him for doing so. 

That night, sleep was interrupted multiple times by Simmons, who oddly enough was a face I didn't mind seeing every two hours. He helped me with the numbing spray but wasn't much of a conversationalist. He always asked me the same questions and scribbled my answers down in a notepad. How was I feeling? How was the pain? Was it helping? And if I thought I needed more. After the third visit, I told him I could make it through the night and that my throat was feeling better but I wanted to tell him I could use another dose just to see someone friendlier walk through the doors of my cell. 

The lights turned off automatically every time Simmons left. I thought that maybe if I could trust anyone it might be Simmons and the doctor. I had the initial assumption that the doctor followed Hart's orders but tonight showed me that he was more compassionate and willing to risk Hart's wrath in order to help me. Maybe he was the key to my escape.



Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 04



This week had proved to be more challenging than I had expected. With the Colombians backing out of our deal, I was twenty percent short on our outgoing shipment. That low life piece of shit, Morano, has made everyone's lives hell. And I didn't have enough time to secure another cargo run. In my moment of anger, I threw the papers from my desk, sending them into a scattered array on the floor. One of the bronze paperweights clanked to the ground with a thud. 

It wasn't like me to lose my temper but I knew what this could mean. If I couldn't secure a full shipment by Tuesday, Calabani would pay me a visit. As Calabani's number two, a visit meant I was up for a promotion or an early retirement. And, seeing as my only way of advancement was through Calabani's death, surely it meant he was here to put me in a shallow grave.

Even word of Calabani visiting would stir the men. Rumors would threaten the very premise this organization was built upon. Every order and decision I made would be questioned and evaluated, no doubt a fallacy would be found in my logic. My men would lash out against me, all order broken into chaos. I couldn't have that. 

I grabbed the phone and selected a secure line. "Mr. Hart for Mr. Savoy." I said briskly to his secretary.

"Savoy here." I heard him say. Savoy was a ruthless man. Far more than I could ever be myself. He had been passed time and time again for a promotion in our line of business which made him all the more bitter. It pained me to have to call him and ask this. 

"Savoy, I'll be cut and dry here. As we both know, there is no room for pleasantries in this line of work. My shipments have come up short this month and I am prepared to make you a deal." The words stung as I said them but I gritted my teeth and said them anyway.

"So you thought to call me? After shutting me down in last week's meeting. You referred me to as—what was it—a dirty mogul with poor tactics and elementary technique... Why should I help you?" He asked. 

I didn't blame him. I didn't think highly of him and he knew it. "Because I'll make it worth your while." I said flatly. This was business. There was no room for hurt feelings here.

"I'm listening." He said.

"If you deliver four cargo shipping containers with class II merchandise, a total of sixty units to me by the end of this week, I will give you 16% of next week's profit." 

"25% and you remove your men from the Arauca border." Savoy said. His accent was dreadful to listen to. It reminded me of a drunken man, he forgot syllables and dragged the wrong ones out. It was clear he was not raised with a true Colombian accent. I had suspected for a long time now he was native to Argentina and he had been posing for some time as a Colombian. For what purpose, I hadn't quite determined but I would find out. 

I knew he wasn't going to make this easy. I counter offered, "20% and I pull back half my men. I need them at that border crossing and you know it. I can't just let Julian's men walk right in; Venezuela would have a clutch on the operation in no time. Why do you want them off that border anyhow?" I ask, morbidly curious. 

"I have a convoy with certain valuables—a delicate matter—entering that area in three days' time. It would be beneficial for my men not to have to worry about being stopped. Pull your men back and tell them to stand down during that window and you have yourself a deal." 

After a brief moment, I said, "Fine. I expect my shipment to arrive no later than the end of the business week this week. I will wire a quarter of your payment now and the rest upon delivery of the goods. And if all is well, I will remove my men on the border for a small window on the day of your shipment arrival. When your window closes, my men will return to their posts." I paused, letting my words sink in. "However, let me make myself clear. If your window closes and your convoy has not reached the border, my men will be ordered to open fire—no questions asked." 

"Understood." With that, Savoy hung up. 

I did not want to go to such lengths, but Savoy was an easy answer to a potentially dangerous problem. With the shipments back on track, there was still the matter of the girl. She was proving to be more resistant to my tactics than I had originally expected. It was strange for her to last this long when the others had broken so easily.

I caught myself smiling. I did enjoy the challenge. What she said was true—if I pushed her, I had no doubts she would push back harder. Which led me to believe the only way to be rid of this resistance was to snuff it out of her—and quickly. My thoughts were interrupted with a knock at the door. 

Mathias entered. "You sent for me?" He asked. He must have come from the cargo bay because his crisp lab coat was speckled in what appeared to be a concoction of blood and soot. 

I started picking up the papers, suddenly conscious that my work space appeared to be anything but a controlled space. "Yes. It's concerning Miss Heed." I said as I stacked the papers back on my desk.

"Is this about the Phenol I prescribed her? I felt is necessary to relieve her pain. That is what you pay me for—to keep your play things in good health—is it not?" He said in a wary manner. 

"Relax Mathias, there is no need to get defensive with me. I could care less what you do with your time so long as the cargo evaluations are done." I said as I crossed the room and poured us two scotches. "But I do wish you'd consult me when it comes to matters involving the girl." 

I gestured for the seat next to my desk and handed him his glass. He nodded in appreciation. 

I took my seat next to my longtime friend and asked, "How are things looking from your end? Is the merchandise up to par?" 

He sipped his scotch, thankful we've changed topics. The doctor had never been a fan of drinking, but he never refused one in my presence. "We've had a few bad pieces, bringing our count to 146 this month. About half of those qualify as class II. And a quarter of them class I. But we are still short." He said.

"Ah, yes. I've made arrangements for the remainder of the cargo to be delivered this Friday. You'll have to work through the night to get everything in order for departure. Will that be problem?" I asked.

"No, it shouldn't be an issue. I'll have Simmons help me out. That should help to speed things along." 

"This Simmons—you think highly of him?" I asked. I knew enough about Simmons, but I had never considered coming in-between him and the doctor. He was like any other man who worked for me—loyal and hardworking. He had given me no reason to doubt his efforts and I respected Mathias enough to know he would inform me if anything should change.

"Yes. He is taking his teachings seriously. It's nice to have an extra hand around here too. He'll make a great doctor someday." I caught Mathias staring off in the distance, lost in thought.

"Is he cut out for this line of work though? Can he be trusted?" I asked blatantly. 

"I think so. He has developed somewhat of an affection towards the girl though. I find him constantly checking up on her during the night. It was how I was alerted of her sore throat and poor diet. Simmons had heard the course cough and brought it to my attention. I especially didn't like to see the malnutrition." The good doctor gave me a judgmental look, making it clear he did not think too highly of my tactics.

I laughed. "Ah, Mathias, you never were afraid to speak your mind, even if you don't say the words themselves." I smiled. "But the diet was not my doing. The girl had thrown her food at me. It's not my fault she didn't eat. And how do you suppose it looks if I send her another tray. Should I reward her for such behavior?" I swallowed back the remainder of my scotch. "She is a persistent one—that's for sure."

"So you won't mind if I speak openly on the matter?" He asked.

I gestured my approval as I poured myself another scotch, offering some to him but knowing he would refuse.

"And using her parent's death as a weapon? Was that necessary?" He questioned, his voice slightly angry in pitch.

"Are you questioning my methods?" I turned for my seat. "She is hiding something about it. You should have seen her face, Mathias. There is clearly something more to the story here. Something she will go to great lengths to keep secret."

"Or maybe she is just in mourning over her parent's death. How did you expect her to act?" He asked me.

The thought occurred to me but I was sure there was more to the story. I took another sip of my scotch and set it on the table next to us. "Whatever it is, I will get it out of her."

Mathias was clearly not too content hearing that. "I have some paperwork to finish up, was there anything else?" He asked as he set his half-drunk scotch down on the table and made to leave.

"And one more thing," I stopped him in his tracks. "Tell Simmons to keep his distance—I don't like him visiting her." Without turning around he gave me a nod of understanding and left. 

It had been a day or two—maybe more—since Hart had used my mouth as a dumping ground for his sperm. And still when I think of it, I wanted to hurl. My sore throat had eased, in thanks to the doctor and Simmons. The extra portions of food had helped me to feel better too. I was stowing away the extra rolls or whatever I could should something like this ever happen again...

Hart has not visited me since the day in his office. I'm not sure what to make of it. Had he forgotten about me? Had he left me down here to rot? My mind raced constantly at the possibility that I would never see daylight again or worse, this time alone was meant to be some kind of solitude forced upon me before all hell broke loose. 

The time dragged on with nothing to do in my cell. I was not allowed books or magazines, nothing to pass the time with. I had gotten so bored that I had begun to unthread some of the sheets, ripping them into strips and making knots and weaving patterns. I was desperate for something to do and even with this, my time was only partially occupied.

Occasionally I would sit on the bed and watch for Simmons to pass by. He was walking through more and more lately. And every once in a while he would stop and ask how I was and if there was anything he could do for me. But lately it seemed his key card didn't give him access anymore. I suspect it was because he was done treating me.

Sawyer came by a few times, tormenting me with his crude profanities and fantasies. But he never entered the cell, just stood in the doorway reminding me that he would have his way with me sooner than later.

When Hart finally stopped by, he did so in the middle of the night, no doubt thinking I was asleep. But he didn't do anything. He just sat in the chair next to my bed and watched me sleep. I didn't know how long he had been there but I'm guessing it was well into the night. When I had thought he left I turned around to check. To my surprise he was still sitting there, watching me.

"I did not mean to wake you." He said softly.

I pulled the blankets up to my chin, as if they were some kind of shield against him. "It's okay. I wasn't sleeping anyhow." 

"Have you not been sleeping?" He asked, sincere in his inquiry.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked honestly. Our voices still soft as if we were going to wake someone else.

"You are mine. Everything about you concerns me." He said.

There was so much I wanted to say to him—angry, mean things, but I let it go. I was honestly just relieved to see that he hadn't forgotten me down here. 

"Get some rest." His voice told me it was more of an order than a request.

That night, sleep came harder than the nights before. I wanted to believe the woman in my cell when she said Hart was not a bad man but nothing he has done thus far has given me an insight to what she is saying was true. I knew my only way of surviving this hell hole was to think of Hart as a monster...because deep down, I had to believe it.

The next morning I was brought out from my cell for the first time in the days. I was so excited to get some space that I nearly forgot I was being held captive. The Captain grabbed my arm when I took a step too far in advance. With a quick jerk he brought me back to his side.

He led me upstairs and through familiar corridors. It didn't take long to recognize the route we were talking. The Captain was leading me back to the doctor's office. When fear finally struck me, I wanted to run but the Captain held me firmly in place at his side. He led me through the familiar large metal doors and into the open lab space. 

"Thank you, I'll take it from here." The doctor said. He seemed much more human today, with his relaxed blue jeans and sweater. No lab coat or stethoscope or any evidence of his profession, aside from the location. 

The Captain rolled his eyes, no doubt remembering the last time I made a break for it while here. "I've placed an extra detail just outside the doors...should you need it." He said. The doctor nodded his approval and dismissed the Captain, leaving us standing there, sizing each other up.

"So...what is this about?" I asked. "Is this another one of your torture things? Or am I here to get another round of birth control? Because either way, I'm not game." I said sternly, with a hint of annoyance. 

He smiled. "No. This is something entirely different. I was hoping we could talk." He held up his hand, gesturing for me to lead the way into the back of his office. I arched my eyebrows in question but slowly made my way back.

His office was much different than I had imagined. It was warm and inviting, full of personality unlike the rest of his laboratory. There were no white walls or steel countertops. Nothing about his office felt cold and scary. It was oddly, welcoming.

The back wall of his office was filled with leather-bound books which appeared to be some sort of collection of medical writings. His desk with made of a rich espresso wood with a globe on the corner of his desk. I chuckled quietly when I saw the heart shaped stress ball topped on a stack of papers. Somehow, the irony was not lost.

Next to the stack of papers was a pair of scissors. Immediately I reached for them, hiding them underneath the hem of my dress. He motioned for me to sit on the ornate chaise lounge while he shut the door behind us, oblivious to what I had just done.

"So...you want to talk?" I asked sarcastically. "Couldn't we just do that from my cell?" I asked.

He took a seat and folded his hand on the desk. Arching one eyebrow, he said, "I thought you might want some fresh air. Was I wrong?" 

I shrugged my shoulders. "No..." I said, "So what is it you want to talk about?" I asked casually.

He leaned back in his chair. "I was just wondering how you were doing?"

I paused for a moment deciding if I was going to go there. After a brief moment, I did. "Okay, doc. I appreciate everything you've done for me. The bandaging me up when I was first brought here, and looking after me and what not. Means a lot. But don't think for one moment that through those experiences you've gained some unholy insight into me that allows you to sit there and pretend we are going to do this whole shrink thing." I paused to catch my breath. "Because I have not forgotten where I am and who you are and what you've done to me or even who you serve."

He smiled sincerely. "I can understand how you might feel that way." He said. "But I am not asking you as a shrink. I'm asking you as a concerned friend."

"Friend...? So we're friends now? Well if that's the case and you really care about my well-being as you say you do, you'll do the right thing and help me get out of here." 

"You know I can't do that."

"Then I want no part of this." I gestured to us and whatever this was.

I quickly made for the door, wanting nothing to do with this. Before he could get out of his seat, I was out the door and heading for the exit. I could hear his footsteps following me, but he made no effort to catch up to me. I pressed my hand to my thigh, holding the scissors in place under my dress, trying so desperately to away from here.

Just outside the main doors, three guards immediately took a defensive stance, no doubt thinking I was making an attempted escape. "I'm ready to be escorted back to my cell now." I said. The guards gave the doctor a questioning look and he waved them off. "This was fun. But let's not do it again." I gave him a brief smile just as the guards pushed me forward. Relief flooded through me as I realized I was in the clear. I used the time on our way back to check out the guard's positions and protocols. 

Just as the elevators opened, I saw Hart and my happy demeanor disappeared. He was dressed in his normal crisp, pressed suit with gold cuff-links. But today his eyes were greener than I have ever seen. I chalked it up to such good lighting up here versus dark and dingy dungeon. Immediately, he gave me a questioning look, confused as to why I was standing there and not in my cell most likely. He quickly glanced at his phone, checking the time.

"I'll take her from here." He said sternly. The guards left in differing directions, leaving me standing just outside the elevator with the man I despised. "Are you going to step in or should I assist you?" He asked, not breaking our glance. With a forfeiting sign, I stepped in the elevator. I noticed that his keycard over rode the security system and he did not need both keypads to gain access to the elevator.

We rode down to the lower levels in silence. My heart raced knowing he stood only a few feet from me, and I had a weapon to end this. I could stab him, grab his key card, and make my way out of the compound. And then what? The place was swarming with guards, and even if I made it outside, I had no way of getting off the island. I needed a better plan. 

Once in the lower level, Hart stayed behind me as we walked towards my cell. He opened the door and said, "I have some matters to attend to, I will be back shortly and we will continue with your training." 

"Looking forward to it." I said with a smirk on my face. Hart's reaction was less than satisfied but he held his tongue. Once I was left alone, I hid the scissors under my pillow and suddenly, my life seemed safer.

Sitting on the bed, I asked myself if I could really use it. Could I really fight Hart off if I needed to? Could I be that kind of person? This place was changing me and I didn't want to admit it. He was changing me. And with every passing day, I felt like I was losing a piece of myself. But in order to survive, I had to fight. My mind raced as I struggled to understand who this person was. Who was I?

Hart returned a few hours later more agitated than when he left. I suspect whatever he was working on had not gone his way, with him being a control freak and such. He led me out of the cell and into the room where he first strung me up. "Strip" He demanded.

When I didn't immediately start undressing, he threatened, "Remove your clothes or I will do it for you."

I hesitated for a moment but obeyed. Slowly grabbing the hem of my dress, I pulled it above my head. My breasts bounced with a release as I dropped the dress to the ground. Out of habit, I crossed my hands across my chest to protect my privacy. He stood there watching me, like some kind of animal.

"It seems you've forgotten the rules already." He said as he made his way to the dresser across the back wall. Opening the third drawer, he removed a riding crop. Moving slowly back to me, he said, "Get down on your knees."

Panic struck me. "No. Not again. I won't let you use me like that." My voice cracked with fear.

"I don't remember giving you a choice." With a quick motion, he had his hand around my neck before I could react. Pushing me backwards, he led me into the center of the room and pushed me down with more force than necessary. When he finally let go, my hands flung to my neck as I wheezed for air. But my relief was short-lived. Hart grabbed my hands one at a time; swiftly and diligently he worked to lock them into shackles. I was anchored to the ground. My arms stretched out to the sides, forced to carry my weight on my knees.




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 04



When I was secure, he stepped back to admire his handy work. With a soft grin on his face he studied me. "You are a very beautiful woman. It's a shame that attitude of yours is going to make this more difficult—for you and me both. But you will be the one to change that." With the riding crop in hand, he caressed my chest, trailing the leather up my neck. The texture was smooth and soft—cool to the touch. He rounded my chin and stopped on my lips. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him. "Oh how I love that mouth."

He pulled the leather away. I could hear him moving around me but I refused to open my eyes. And then suddenly the leather bit into the skin on my lower backside. My eyes flew open as I bit my teeth down in shock. A moment after the strike, he asked, "Do you know why I did that?"

I refused to answer him. Instead I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Each step he made around me was soft but built the anticipation. He grabbed my face, pulling my head upright. "Open your eyes." He commanded. A moment passed but he did not let go. "Look. At. Me." He voice was calm, and frigid. 

I opened my eyes and stared right back at him. His green eyes were dark. Dark with anger and fueled with determination. Determination to control me. Letting me go, he stood up and began pacing in front of me. After some time, he stopped and said, "What are my rules? Tell me."

I raised my head and looked at him, our gazes connecting. "Well if there is anything I've learned while being here it is that...You're a fucked up son of a—. " He slapped me so hard across my face, my vision blurred.

"Perhaps you need some reminding." His footsteps echoed as he disappeared from sight. He returned with a small bag in his hands. Crouching in front of me he told me to roll back onto the ball of my heels. When I didn't, he pushed me up and back, enough that my knees were a few inches of the ground. He proceeded to pour the contents of the little bag onto the floor below me. It was rice. 

Letting go of my knees, they fell and the rice sank into my skin. Each piece of rice felt like a large rock digging into my flesh, only more intense. I clenched my jaw in agony. 

"Now, perhaps you can tell me the first rule. I would think this one was fresh on your mind. No doubt you've been plotting since the day you got here."

When I did not answer, the riding crop landed on my ass cheek in a single, swift, harsh movement. The leather cracked against my skin, no doubt leaving me with a reddening bottom.

"What is rule number one?" 

Another blow fell on the opposite cheek. A moan escaped my clenched jaw but I did not break.

Again he asked me and again I refused him. The assaults became more often and with more force. With each increasing strike, my moans increased, turning into cries and then chokes but I did not falter. Hart was still persistent, just as willing to with this fight as I was. 

"You cannot resist me forever. I will break you." He said. "Rule number one?"

When I did not answer this time instead of my back side he moved in front of me so that I could look at him. And then he made a strike. He hit me between the legs. My body trembled in pain as I fell forward, forced by the chains to remain a degree of upright. My sensitive area quivered with a pain so intense I thought it would never dissipate.

"I will ask you again. What is the first rule?"

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and my hair was sticky with sweat and tears. I didn't think I could take another hit like that. Choking on my words, I said, "I can't escape." My word were barely audible but he knew what I had said. He knew that he had won.

"Good girl." He caressed my cheek, brushing my hair to the side. "It's better when you do as you are told, you will see." I couldn't bare his touch but I was in no position to shy away from him. "And the second rule?" He asked.

Every ounce of me wanted to give up and just tell the man what he wanted to hear but I knew every time I did I was becoming weaker. I was losing a part of myself. 

He hit me again and my back arched as I screamed out in pain. The chain's sound reverberated with each pull, echoing in the vast room. 

"The pain can disappear. Just like that." He snapped his fingers. "All you have to do is tell me the rules. I don't see why you are fighting this so hard. This is a very simple solution to a painful problem. What is rule number two?"

I couldn't look at him. I could barely move. My knees were bleeding, my backside ached, and my most sensitive areas were throbbing with pain. With a weak voice, I said, "Do not hide my body."

"Very good." He walked around me. "Do you know why I made that a rule? Because I own you and I own your body. It is no longer yours to hide." He yanked my hair back. "Why are you not allowed to hide your body?" He asked as I screamed in agony.

"Answer me." 

"Because you own me." The words cut like a knife as I said them. I didn't want them to be true. I didn't want to believe them. I couldn't believe them. 

"Say it again."

Fighting back the tears, I said, "You own me." I could imagine his lips curling as I spoke the words. 

He let go of my hair and my body went slack. "That's right. I own you... Just one more rule. What is it?"

With every last bit of strength I had, I raised my head and smiled. "Fuck you." 

He began laughing, "You're going to wish you hadn't said that." His hand gripped around the riding crop and in one swift motion, it came down on my cunt harder that the two previous assaults combined. I screamed so loud my voice cracked and I collapsed. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, no need to ask the obvious question. 

In between the sobs, I said, "No...cursing..." With that he let me go. It was apparent how content he was that I had submitted. I gave him what he wanted and I was weaker for it.

He undid the shackles and I fell to the ground. My body was weak and my knees were bloodied. He grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet. I was wobbly and off balance but I did my best to stay with him. Rice fell to the ground with a ping as we walked. He led me into a room off to the side. The walls were dingy white tile with a concrete floor. It looked more like wash bay of some sort. 

He saw the look of horror on my face as he produced a strait jacket. "You can thank the doctor next time you see him, I got this from him. It occurred to me earlier today that I have been lenient on you. You have a bed, roof over your head, and food." He grabbed me, pushed me against the wall and began securing the fasteners in the back. "If you are going to continue pushing back at me, I need to remind you what a privilege is." 

He pulled a ball gag from his pocket. 

"I told you the rules! I gave you what you wanted!!" I screamed, the sobs making my speech barely audible. He forced the gag into my mouth despite my protests.

"Exactly, you told me what I wanted to hear. You didn't mean a word of it." He secured the gag, taking my speech away. "But you will."

He led me into a small room, no bigger than my cell. It was padded and stained from years of use and abuse. I tried to lock my heels in the ground but he was much stronger than I was and it didn't take long from him to overcome me. 

He tossed me into the cell and I fell with a thud. Despite the padded floors, it still hurt. My arms were locked around me and I couldn't move. I couldn't speak and I was locked in a cell like an asylum patient. 

"I suggest you think about your behavior and what you're sacrificing by hanging on to this reluctance. Your life could be so much better. Remember, your actions determine how you are treated." He shut the door behind him, and I could hear the metal clanking as he locked me in.

I tried to use the time of solitude to relax and recharge, no doubt this was only the beginning of a very tiring struggle. But sleep was interrupted by the flickering light and an annoying hum from the light fixtures. I told myself I had slept in worse conditions and this was manageable.

It took quite some time to acclimate to the situation and not being able to move into a comfortable position was difficult but after a while I began dozing. My eyelids were so heavy, I couldn't fight the urge to sleep any longer. 

But the moment I closed my eyes a large buzzing sound filled the room, startling me awake. My heart raced and I rolled over in fear. It was like a large horn, obnoxious and far too powerful for such a small room. And it sounded every time I shut my eyes. This was surely Hart's plan. For me to be physically weak, sleep deprived and not in my right mind.

I don't know how long I had been kept in there but I was beginning to lose track of my thoughts and I could no longer think in clear sentences. Hart had destroyed any chance of me recharging. The only way to escape this awful place was to daydream. 

__________________________________________________

The first few foster homes were the worst. There were the Michael's who treated me okay but acted like I was their play doll. They would dress me up in ridiculous outfits and parade me around town like a dog on a leash. 

Then there were the Vongrates. They barely spoke any English but that didn't stop them from yelling at me. And I was too passive to do anything. That was the first time I ran away from my foster parents. They were cruel and I hated them for it. After that I bounced around to a few more homes. It was in that moment of my life that I had developed a knack for running when life proved more difficult than I could handle. It was my natural response when I became scared or frightened. In psychology terms they'd call that the fight or flight response. A person either ran or fought when confronted. 

After I ran from my foster parents, I didn't know where to go. I didn't know what I was going to do or how to survive but I did it. My mom use to tell me if I didn't like my life that I needed to change it. She use to tell me that I could be whatever and whoever I wanted to be. And so I did. 

I got off my sorry ass and I got a job, a few actually. I worked at a retail store in the morning and I was a -waitress at a rundown diner in the evening. I worked 70-80 hours a week to save up enough money to get out. I took the first greyhound I could and went to New York. I had always dreamed of living there as a kid. The adventures alone would take a lifetime to experience. 

I remember the first time I ran into Katie, my roommate and best friend. I had just bought a sandwich from a little deli and sat down on the park bench when a guy ran by and snatched my purse. I remember being so startled by what had happened that I didn't react fast enough. Katie had been waiting in the line behind me at the Deli and had seen the entire thing. She dropped her sandwich and chased after the man, tackling him to the ground.

We laughed so hard that day. Ever since, we had been best friends. Part of me thought I was drawn to her because she was strong enough for the both of us. And then there was me. I kept her level headed and talked her out of doing the crazy things—mostly. There was that time she jumped out of a plane despite my protests but when all was said and done, we were there for each other. 

I wondered what she was doing now. She was probably past the mad as hell stage for ditching her birthday party and had ventured into the worrying stage. Or did she think that I had just ran away again... 

__________________________________________________

Hart came to get me some time later. He was dressed in his usual crisp shirt and slacks. No suit jacket in site. His appearance made me think it was late in the night, perhaps early morning. But I had no way of knowing what time it was and it was clear that his plan had worked. I had been left there so long that I had soiled myself, lying in my own waste. There was no way for me to escape it. I could barely move and my head pounded from the lack of sleep, deadening sounds, and bright lights.

He pulled me to my feet, I could barely stand up straight. The room spun and my head felt light headed. He half carried me, half dragged me into the center of the large room next to the padded cell. He untied the buckles to the jacket and helped me out but only replaced that with a pair of shackles again. With a quick motion, he hoisted me up and hung me from an old butcher's hook. My feet dangled a few inches off the ground.

The adrenaline caused a surge in my awareness but I was still weak. My screams were muffled again. 

"Let's get you cleaned up." He said as he produced a large hose. Opening the throttle, I was immediately sprayed with a frigid, icy cold water. I panicked when the cold water touched my skin. My body flailed around but I could not avoid the spray of water. When I was drenched from head to toe, he stopped.

I was shivering and shaking with cold. My teeth would have chattered if there wasn't a gag in my mouth. 

"That's better." He said. I watched him as he retrieved an old wooden chair, stained with age and set it in front of me, quite a distance away. "I am done with this disobedience, this disrespect, this reluctance to serve me and my patience is wearing thin so I will make myself clear. 

"You were brought here for one purpose and that was to serve me. Anything else will not be tolerated. I own you. Remember that...I own you."

I was listening but my head dipped in exhaustion. He opened the nozzle to the hose and sprayed me again, jolting me awake and upright as much as I could muster. 

"I'm sorry am I boring you?" He asked, spraying me again. My hair was drenched and matted. My body was covered in goose bumps from the cold air and my knees were still covered in a dark red dried blood. He continued spraying me until I was screaming through the gag. When he was finished he set the hose down and began walking towards me. He disappeared behind me and released the gag. 

It felt nice to be able to move my jaw again but like everything else, that too ached. "Why are you doing this to me?" My voice was raw and cracked.

He continued as if I hadn't said anything. "Are you ready to submit yourself fully to me?" His voice was clear as if he had said this phrase over and over before. 

I had thought about the moment I had walked out that bar and heard those tires screech. I felt much like then as I do now—light headed and weak. I remember the need to run, to get away. And how despite my efforts, I was still taken, kidnapped by men at Hart's orders.

I remembered the first few days, being confined to a room in a house I was not familiar with. And I remember the awful things the doctor did to me. I remember the Captains harsh tones with me and the way he carried me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I remembered the first moment I met Hart, strung up naked for him to see. I remember how he flogged me and his brute ways. And then in his office. 

I didn't mean anything to this man. I was just a piece of property to him to be owned and used and when I had served my purpose he would have no other option other than to dispose of me. Throw me to his men for sloppy seconds or worse, he would kill me so that I would never talk or tell the world what he had done. 

So no, I wasn't quite ready to submit. The moment I did I lost everything. I lost myself, my freedom, I would surrender myself to him and he would get his way. But how long until he was bored of me? How long until he threw me out with the trash? A few weeks, maybe months. No longer than a year I would guess. 

I couldn't risk surrendering now, if he really did have his fill of me in a few weeks, I would surely die. An escape plan would be practically impossible with him watching me constantly, and only a few weeks to arrange the entire thing. 

If I only held out longer, I could think of a way out. But I didn't know if I could bear much longer. My body had just about given up. And the more I pushed, the more he pushed back. He was so determined and so was I but I was the one suffering. I was the one in pain, strung up, cold and wet, exhausted and famished. I was the one who would break in the end. Despite all my efforts, I knew that now. Hart would never back down. At least not with me. He wanted the control too much—craved it. He needed it.

I had a choice to make and it was not an easy one. My mind grew groggy the harder I tried to think about it. The room swayed and tilted. That's how I felt inside. My life hung on the balance to two entirely different worlds. I could choose to fight him. Fight him here and now. But I was never a fighter, I was never the strong one. And I didn't know if I could be that person now.

Or I could submit to him. Surrender myself to him and his ways and hope that I could escape in time. It was not an easy decision but I had made my choice.

With a heavy heart I said, "Yes. I will submit to you." I felt a part of me being destroyed in the process but I could not take much more of his abuse physically or mentally. "You have won Hart." My voice was barely audible. 

My head grew heavy and I let it fall. I was ashamed that I had broken but it was done. I could not fight him today. Not like this.

"It was never a contest." He said softly. But it sure felt like one. Day after day we challenged each other. He pushed and I pushed back. But this time he pushed me down and I couldn't get back up.

He lifted me up off of the butcher's hook and cradled me close to his body. He smelled of sandalwood and the ocean. He released me from the shackles and let them fall to the floor. The sudden freedom was a false hope. I knew that. I was not free but defined to the four walls of this building, surrounded by miles and miles of ocean. 

Hart had been holding me upright. Had he not I would have fallen to the concrete floor in a heartbeat. When it was clear I was in no condition to walk, Hart scooped me up in his arms, and pressed my naked, cold body close to his. He was warm and soft but hard too. And I was too weak to protest. I laid my head down on his shoulder. He carried me like this back to my cell.

He carefully set me down on the bed and left, leaving the door open. I thought about running but I could not risk it. I was too weak and would not have gotten far. He returned shortly after with a small bowl of hot water, a few towels and another blanket. 

He set the bowl down as steam rolled off it and began unfolding the towels. He handed me one for my hair and with shaky hands, I tried blotting my hair. Taking pity on me, Hart took the towel from my hands and began drying my hair. 

"How comfortable your life is depends on the decisions you make today. I can be a pleasant person if only you do as you're told." 

He finished with my hair and began drying me off, with finite accuracy. He got every inch of me—behind my ears, under my arms, between my legs. He was very thorough and I sat there and let him do it. When he was finished he brought over the bowl of hot water and dipped the corner of the towel in it. He began scrubbing the dried, caked on blood from my knees, leaving the water a dark reddish color.

When he was all finished he pulled back the covers, helped me in and then laid the extra blanket on top of me. I was out before he even left the room. The last thing I saw before my eyes fell shut was him standing by my side, brushing a few strands of hair from my face. 

__________________________________________________

I didn't dream that night. My mind and body were far too exhausted. I had no way to gauge how long I had been asleep but it was not long. Something was not right. I felt a weight on my body—this heavy weight holding me down, limiting my motions. I couldn't move.

My eyes shot open when my subconscious told me it was real. I nearly screamed when I realized the cause of the weight and lack of movement, but a hand flew to my mouth and prevented me from bellowing. My heart started to race and my adrenaline spiked. I tossed and turned, trying to dislodge the weight. This was one of those fight or flight moments. 




Captive: Story of Abby Ch. 04



"Oh you pretty little thing. I've waited for this for a long time." Sawyer whispered in my ear. 

He sat on top of me, holding me down. His smell of beer and sweat was overwhelming. His uniform was dingy and unkempt, unlike the other times I had seen him. Without removing his hand from my mouth, he pushed the covers aside until I was naked beneath him. With his other hand he grabbed my breast, squeezing hard. His hands were calloused and rough against my soft skin. 

I tried screaming beneath his hand but it was barely audible. Without realizing it, my eyes filled with tears in anticipation for what was going to happen—what Sawyer was going to do to me.

"I am going to enjoy making you scream." He said with a wicked grin.

He quickly unzipped his pants and let his erection spring forward. It was in this moment I knew he would not stop. Sawyer was an awful man and did not think twice when it came to me. He wanted what he wanted and I would be damned if I gave it to him.

It was brief but he pulled his hand from my mouth just barely as he tried to position himself and I bit down as hard as I could on his hand. He screamed out in agony. With him loosening his hold on me, I reached under the pillow and grabbed the scissors, gripping them tight. In one swift movement, I stabbed him in the chest making his stumble backwards just enough for me to push my knees up from beneath him.

I pulled back my legs and kicked him as hard as I could and he fell to the floor. Without thinking twice, I grabbed his security badge and ran from the room. The door to my cell shut behind me and he was locked in. 

I rushed forward to the elevator as fast as I could, scared that someone might have seen me. I hit the button and waited. What was only seconds felt like an eternity. The elevator opened and relief flooded over me when I saw that it was empty. I pushed the button to the ground level but it did not light up. And then I remembered that I needed to place the badge on the reader before hitting the button. Fumbling with the card, I finally placed it and pushed the button again. It still did not light up. 

I tried again, this time in a more panicky state. Again the light did not come on. Glancing around the elevator I saw the second badge reader. Of course! I needed two cards. Think. Think. Think. 

I ran out of the elevator and headed for the room where Hart had flogged me before, remembering the game he played with me the first time I met him. The game was designed so that I would never win but what I was after, would surely warrant in a victory. I reached the dresser and started pulling out the drawers one by one looking for the three tiny boxes that held the keys. 

Each drawer held a vast variety of things from whips, floggers, and even a few canes to blindfolds, gags, dildos and vibrators, and even a drawer full of butt plugs. None of them housed the keys. I rummaged through the last drawer, and to my surprise found three tiny ornate boxes pushed to the back. I pulled them out in a frenzy and opened each one until I found the key card that supposedly opened every door on this island.

Just before I turned to leave, I noticed my grey dress folded on the chair next to the dresser. I wasn't sure if it was my uneasy feeling about running around naked or my need to blend in but I grabbed it and slipped it over my head as fast as I could. I'm sure I'd raise more alarms if I was running around naked.

In a panic, I thought, what if Hart was bluffing. Would he really present me with the key to my escape? I didn't know but I had to try. Running back to the elevator, I rushed inside and placed the two cards awkwardly on the readers and hit the ground level button with my elbow. It lit up and the elevator doors started to shut. But just before the closed, I saw one of Sawyer's friend roaming the halls. Of course, how else had sawyer gotten down here? Surely not by himself. He needed a second badge to get back up. The doors completely closed and I was in the clear, the man had not seen me.

Again I was washed over with relief. I might actually survive this. If I had known I was going to be standing here just a few hours ago, my decision would have been much easier.

The ping of the elevator told me I had arrived at my destination. I pushed my body against the wall in case anyone was standing just outside the elevator when the door opened but the hall was empty. I quickly made my way from the elevator and took an immediate right. I ran down the hallway, my bare feet slapping the cold marble floor. When I reached the end I didn't stop. I could see a staircase up to my left and a large set of doors to my right. I ran through the doors and was shocked to see that I was in a cargo bay. 

The air was hot and humid, but at least I was closer to being outside. I slowed my pace to a walk, and staying to the perimeter of the bay. There were crates of all shapes and sizes stacked up on the sidelines. Just then I froze as I heard voices ahead. Looking around, I did the only thing I could and jumped behind the crates, crouching down for protection. 

As I crept forward I could begin making out the figures in the distance. There was a large cargo shipping container positioned in the center of the bay and on one end, stood the doctor, Simmons, and at least a dozen soldiers. They opened the cargo contained and the loud clank filled the room as the doors swung open. The doctor began coaxing something out but I could not see. I reached my head around the crates as best as I could until I saw it. Rather saw them.

Several dozen, naked women of all types were pushed out of the container. The guards forced the women to line up. They were scared and frightened, clearly they had been in there some time. They were given water as the doctor made his way down the line, inspecting each and every one of them.

One women did not speak English and did not understand what was happening. She pushed back from the line and tried to retreat but the guards intervened almost immediately. They pushed her down on her knees, holding the barrel of a rifle to her forehead, and shouting, "Don't move! Don't fucking move!"

They bound her wrists behind her with a large width zip-tie and pulled her back up on her feet, instructing her to get back in line with the others. I could barely watch anymore. These women were scared for their lives. I could relate to that but something in my gut told me these women had it far worse. They were being sold as sex slaves. 

Just then the sirens sounded, and red lights began flashing. They knew I was missing. 

Immediately the guards rushed the women back into the cargo container and locked the doors. They fanned out and secured all of the exits to the outside. They others began flushing through the bay, checking every nook and cranny. There was no way I could run for the exit now. In a matter of minutes they would stumble upon me and I would be punished. What Hart has done to me the last few days would be nothing compared to what he would do if he found me. 

The guards were fencing me in, flushing me towards the house again. I had to move. I had to find somewhere else to hide. Crouching low to the ground, I made my way to the door that led inside. Before I made my move, guards swarmed through the door and into the bay. Thankfully they had not seen me. I grabbed the door and slid in before anyone else saw me. 

There were soldiers everywhere. They were coming from the left and the right. My only way out of this mess was up. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, still staying as low as I could. Once upstairs, I noticed the hall was empty. Just then a maid exited a room with a handful of bed sheets. There was no way I could avoid her so I ran past her, hoping she couldn't see me with the pile of linens in her face. 

The hallways lead to another bank of stairs down at the end but I could hear a swarm of footsteps arising them. I was trapped again. In a moment of panic I jolted right then left and then right again. Just as the soldier had reached the top of the stairs, I ran into one of the bedrooms.

I could hear the doors opening one by one as the searched the premises. I didn't have much time. I needed to hide and somewhere they might not check. Under the bed was too obvious, and they would check the shower and closet. No doubt they'd check the wardrobe. I ran into the bathroom just as they had opened the door.

I quickly looked around for a place to hide and as soon as I saw the cabinet under the sink I ran for it. I crawled in and pushed myself back as much as I could, pulling a few cleaning supplies to the front of me, hoping it was too dark for them to see me. Maybe they'd overlook the supplies and just shut the door.

Only a moment later I heard their footsteps as the entered the bathroom. They pulled back the curtain to the shower and checked behind the door. 

"Clear. Next room." One of them said. My heart raced and my breathing was heavy. I covered my mouth as I waiting for them to leave. Once I heard them shut the bedroom door, I relaxed but I could not will myself to move. I stayed where I was until all I heard was my breathing alone. It must have been several minutes, maybe more before I moved.

I pushed the cabinet door open slowly, scared that someone was standing there but there was no one. I was alone. I slowly made my way to the bedroom door and opened it, peering right and left. The hallway was empty. I half tip-toed, half jogged to the end of the hallway and peered down the stairs. There was no one in sight. I ran down the stairs and rounded the corner, stopping dead in my tracks.

Hart stood there in his pajama pants, no shirt or socks. His hair was even more tussled than normal and he looked pissed. This was the second time we had met like this. His body was rigid, and so was mine. Every ounce of my body told me to run but my mind would not let me. I knew what it meant to run from him. I was already in trouble and I could not make it worse. 

"Please," I begged. "I had no choice. I had to—." I was cut off when he grabbed my arm and pulled me across the large room. He half dragged me through the kitchen and then the parlor. His grip around my arm was tight and painful. 

He opened a large set of doors and threw me to the floor. The hardwood scraped against my knees and my hands burned from the fall. The door shut behind me and I was yanked up off the floor by my hair. He throws me again, this time onto an aerial rug

I looked up to see him furious. "I'll deal with you later." He said through gritted teeth.

He left with a thud from the door. He had not restrained me which was a first, other than being in the cell but this was new. I could walk right out that door and maybe I could escape or maybe I would be caught and the punishment would only be more severe but at least I had the option.

I began walking around the room and discovered that this must be Hart's bedroom. The bed was grand, much bigger than anything I had seen before. It was raised off the ground three feet or so. The wood was a deep rich koa wood with a beautiful grain. The comforter was a beautiful rich sea blue color that complimented the color of the wood. The sheets were ruffled from where Hart must had been laying. 

Aside from the bed, there were a few dressers, a couch and sitting area, complete with a coffee table, lamps, and several bookshelves. A person could practically live in this room. When I had made my way around the room and saw everything I could, I returned the sitting area and took a place on the couch.

I couldn't help but to smile when I saw the alarm clock on his nightstand. It read 3:37 A.M. I had not realized what it was like to lose track of time before and from experience, the last few weeks had been hell. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was below ground and even worse when no one showed me the time. I wondered if that was one of Hart's way in controlling the situation. As if me being locked in a cell or shackled to the floor wasn't enough, he needed to take the aspect of time away from me.

It wasn't until the clock read 5:18 A.M. That he returned. I was still awake, waiting to find out what he had in store for me. He looked exhausted and flustered. But his chest was marbled with muscled, amazingly toned and despite everything I couldn't help but to think how attractive he was. 

He ran his hand through his hair, in exasperation. With a heavy sigh, he said, "I am going to give you one chance to explain yourself or god so help me you will wish you were dead."

My heart sank with his words. I don't know why I was hoping he would understand—I knew I was in trouble. 

"I wasn't trying to escape. You have to believe me." I begged. I didn't think I was going to come out of this but I had to try. I had to make him believe I meant what I said earlier. It was the only way I was going to survive. "I woke up. Sawyer—he was on top of me." I paused, remembering the horrible incident. "I tried to scream but I couldn't. He...he tried to rape me." My voice grew quiet as I admitted it to myself. 

"I fought him off me, stabbing him with a pair of scissors. When he fell to the ground, I ran." I looked up at him. "And I didn't stop." I could tell he believed me so far. But it wasn't enough. I did what I wasn't supposed to do. I ran.

"His friends—Sawyer's friends—they talked about what they would have done to me given the chance. I didn't know if there were others with him so I ran." I was fighting back the tears now, without realizing it.

I was still drained, physically, mentally, and now emotionally. I had fought Hart and lost and now a man laid dead in my cell, because of me, and that was a crime deserving of corporal punishment. What was he going to do to me? I rested my forehead in my hands, scared of what he was going to say next.

But instead, he disappeared behind me and poured me a glass of scotch, handing it to me. I looked up at him in a questioning manner. Was this to take the edge off of what was to happen next? 

"Drink." He said. I took the glass from his hand and sipped it slowly. If he really was going to do something, it might be better if I downed it. I took a larger gulp, hating the burn as it went down. I took another and another until the glass was empty. I set it down on the table softly and said, "I am ready now."

His eyebrows pinched together as he heard my words, studying them. But he did not move.

As I stood, I said, "Let's get this over with." But he only stood there, watching me.

"Sit down." He said softly. My eyebrows dipped in confusion but I slowly sat back down. Was this going to be worse than I thought? Was he not jumping to punish me because I had ran my course? Was this the breaking point and he no longer needed me? 

He watched me as I ran these questions through my mind. Finally, after a moment he disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later. 

I stood once more, when he approached, thinking this was it. But to my surprise he said, "We found Sawyer in your cell. You have to imagine what I thought, after finding you roaming the house. I thought of every possible punishment worthy of such behavior.

"I imagined beating you to an inch of your life to let the doctor mend you up and doing it all over again. I am not a violent person, you see. But tonight's behavior has driven me to question all of my methods. I even wondered if bringing you here was even worth it. I had wondered if everything you said was true..." He paused. "It's a shame, I thought, to waste such a beauty."

He circled in front of me. 

"Please! Don't kill me. I will do what you say. I am yours. I surrendered myself to you. I was only scared of them—scared for my life. You have to understand that. Please don't kill me." I sobbed. "I am yours..." 

I fell to the ground at his feet, begging him not to kill me. I didn't care if I was making a fool of myself, I didn't want to die. I didn't want to end up at the bottom of the ocean or buried in a shallow grave. I was too young. I had so much of my life left. Even if it was to be confined to the walls of a cell.

He crouched down to level with me. "Shhh." He cooed. "I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to kill you. I promise." I looked up at him to see his face; I needed to know for sure. 

"But I killed one of your men." I said, choking on my own words.

"A man who tried to take what was not his." Hart said matter of factly.

"So... You believe me?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes. Not at first no, I had my suspicions however." He pulled me to my feet and set me back on the couch. "I saw everything on the security cameras. Everything from the attempt at rape to your escapades around the compound. But I wanted to hear it from you, for if I had come back and you had not told me the truth, we would be having an entirely different conversation." He rested his hand on my cheek, brushing away my tears with his thumb. "But there is one more matter that needs attention." His voice grew more serious, more controlled, and slightly scary. "How did you get the scissors?" He asked.

I was scared to answer but I knew lying to him would only make matters worse. "I stole them from the doctor's office." I said, ashamed that I was admitting my wrongs. 

He grit his teeth but eventually relaxed his jaw. "The truth goes a long way Miss Heed." He said, "Seeing as we've both had a tiring night, I am willing to put this indiscretion behind us for the time being."

I was again shocked at Hart's nature of handling the situation. 

"Come, let's get you cleaned up." He helped pull me from the couch and guided me to the bathroom. There was a hot bath already drawn and waiting. He helped me remove the dress and I did not feel the need to hide my body from him anymore. It wasn't simply because it was a rule but because he had seen me naked so many times before now that I did not feel ashamed. He helped lower me in the bath as the warm water surrounded me.

He scrubbed me in silence, even helped to lather and rinse my hair. When I was all cleaned, he encased me in a plush towel, so soft I could have fallen asleep wrapped in it. But when I was dry, he took it from my embrace and handed me a silk slip to sleep in. 

I had expected to return to the cell but Hart made no attempt at booting me out. When it was clear I was to sleep here, I panicked a little, stopping in my tracks. He noticed my hesitation and said, "Come now. It is early in the morning and I am in no mood to play games with you. You will sleep in my bed until arrangements can be made otherwise."

He placed his hand on the small of my back and ushered me forward. We crawled into the bed, and I positioned myself on the opposite side of him, leaving a foot gap in between us. I rolled onto my side with my back facing him and pulled the covers up to my neck. His bed was unlike the hard, stiff one I had been sleeping on the past few weeks. It was hard to fight back the drowsiness when the mattress hugged my body and made it so easy to sleep.

Just then he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his body. He was warm, and his embrace was comforting but frightening at the same time. This man had put me through hell and back and here I was, spooning with him in his bed. It didn't feel right but it was so comforting to be held that I didn't care.

I fell asleep wrapped in my monster's arms.