Taken by the Enemy

by Jennifer Bene

  Bastien Foss.

  Emmie was sitting on the floor, leaning against her father’s desk as she poured more of the crystal bottle into her glass. The golden colored alcohol had burned at first, and she had coughed more than once as she forced the first glass down – but the second was easier.

  The third made her feel warm all over, and now that she was halfway through the fourth she understood why her father drank it so often, and she reveled in draining the bottle.

  She was floating in a warm, fuzzy haze. Her mind was too full of a tingling hum to remind her of her situation, or of the horrible day. Even the aches and pains across her body had faded into a dull memory of what they had been.

  She felt good.

  Emmie looked around the room, her body loose and languid, and she remembered when her mother had been alive and they had played hide and seek all over the house with Gabrielle. The day her mother had become sick had been the end of all joy inside Daniau Manor. No more songs, no more laughter – except in short, confined bursts when their father was nowhere in sight. He had always been terrifying, but without their mother as a buffer he had become a titan of fury.

  In the haze of the alcohol she could hear her mother singing, and the words came back to her. Her voice started quiet, but soon she was singing loudly, remembering the tune and the words as she went.

  “Oh, once I was a little blackbird,

  a merry blackbird was I.

  I flew o’er hills, and I flew o’er seas,

  and I flew free where my wings took me.

  Yet, wherever I went,

  no matter how the time spent,

  I never could feel alive.

  Cause wherever I went,

  in the rain or the sun,

  no one ever flew beside me.”

  The door was thrown open, banging into the wall, and she turned to see Bastien Foss staring at her. He had honey colored hair, a slight curl making him look sweet from afar. When someone was close, his blue eyes only sealed the deal, but Emmie knew better than to trust the beautiful exterior. He was evil, and he had come to take her. For some reason, the idea of it had her laughing.

  “What in the hell are you doing, Emeline?” he shouted at her, clearly furious, but she only laughed harder.

  “I’m singing!” She laughed. “Listen.” He glared at her, but she picked the song back up anyway.

  “Then one day I flew o’er

  a sweet little house,

  and I heard a voice call to me.

  Oh little black bird, please come sing for me,

  so I settled at her window.”

  “Stop this.” His voice was a growl as he moved towards her, and she stumbled to her feet, almost spilling her drink before she caught herself against a bookshelf. She held up a hand towards him, wanting to finish the song, but he kept coming. With a few quick steps, she was out of his reach again, holding on to the curtains to steady herself.

  “Now you might ask,

  how a girl made me happier,

  than the wind and all of the trees?

  But I say you never met a lass such as this,

  and by golly, how she could kiss!”

  Emmie tilted up her glass, finishing the last of it in a gulp that made her body tingle, and then she tried her best to bow, but she almost fell down.

  “You’re drunk? You’re fucking drunk?” he shouted, lunging for her, but she dodged him and slipped around the other side of her father’s desk.

  “I think I am.” She nodded, and laughed. “It feels wonderful.”

  His rage was simmering, and a tiny voice inside her told her to run, to be afraid, but she didn’t have the energy to bother. “You will not behave like this.”

  She took a few steps back from him, holding the heavy glass at her side. “I think I’d like to do this all the time.”

  Bastien growled and stomped towards her, and she held up her hands. “This is unacceptable.” He grabbed her arm viciously and shook her, causing her to drop the glass. It shattered on impact and she looked down at her bare feet on the carpet – all of the sparkling pieces catching the firelight like stars in the sky.

  “That’s so pretty.” Emmie was entranced, but Bastien just cursed and leaned down to toss her over his shoulder. Her world spun, and her stomach flipped and she smacked his back. “I’m going to be sick if you don’t put me down!”

  He ignored her until he had shoved her into his carriage out front, putting her upright in the seat which made the world spin violently again. Bastien leaned in and grabbed her face tight, and it likely would have hurt more if she could feel her face beyond a tingling rush. “Listen to me, bitch. You have caused me an endless headache, and I am going to make you suffer for every little bit of it, but if you’re sick inside this carriage, I will beat you bloody. Do you understand?”

  The words burrowed under the golden haze that she felt surrounded by, and she swallowed, nodding slowly.

  “Good. And I don’t want to hear another word out of you. No fucking songs. Nothing.” He muttered and then smacked the door and they started moving.

  Emmie leaned her head against the side, looking out the window into the dark as she wrapped her arms around her against the chill. She wanted the thrilling, golden haze back. She wanted to feel numb again, but Bastien’s threats had shattered all of it – and now all she could feel was fear.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emmie woke up to pain. Her head pounded, her back was painfully stiff, and even her face felt tender. It took a moment to register the soft down mattress, the clean sheets, the soft blankets atop them through all the various aches. But it was real.

  Where am I?

  Her mind felt scrambled, but memories flashed like nightmarish visions. Clara. The sergeant. The guards. Brendan. The letter. Her father. His strap. The alcohol.

  And Bastien Foss.

  She shoved herself up, but the movement was too much and she laid back down. The room she lay in was elegant, richly appointed with a full sitting area, the large bed she slept in, and to the side there seemed to be a bathroom. A real bathroom. As much as it made her head spin, she forced herself out of bed, and she stumbled towards the doorway to click on the light. A large mirror over the vanity caught her eye and she flinched.

  She was naked. Bastien had undressed her, and her back was covered in dark, angry stripes.

  Turning away from the mirror, she found the toilet and used it, happy to have simple luxuries even though she knew the kind of hell she was trapped in. There was a hairbrush already set out and she used it to tear through the tangles in her hair. It left it a frizzy mess, but it was at least clean. The guards had made sure of that.

  Wandering back out into the room, she looked for a wardrobe and saw one near the window, but when she opened it, there were no real clothes. Just costumes. Little costumes that would never fit her.

  Shaking her head she shut it tight, and then turned to see Bastien standing near the door. “You’re awake. That only took,” he checked his watch, “fifteen hours? It’s after noon. I’ve been waiting all morning for you to wake up.”

  “So sorry to inconvenience you,” Emmie grumbled, but Bastien just laughed softly.

  “What did you think of your new clothes?”

  “My clothes?” She looked back at the wardrobe. “None of those clothes will fit me.”

  “Oh no, they’ll fit you perfectly for what I have planned for you.” He leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. “I got your measurements from your household, and my seamstress made the adjustments I asked her to. You’ll look lovely.”

  “I will not wear any of that!” she shouted, and his eyes changed.

  Bastien straightened up and walked towards her slowly, cracking the knuckles on one of his hands. “I think you misunderstand your situation, Emeline. I own you, and you’re going to provide all kinds of entertainment for me.”

  “You don’t own me.” Her voice wavered as he stepped close. She could smell the alcohol on
his breath and his cologne, wafting from his perfectly tailored suit. He lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking it gently, but she shivered anyway.

  “Don’t I?” Bastien leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. “Tell me one person that would stop me from doing anything I want with you.”

  She jerked her head away from him, but he caught her by the throat, squeezing tight. As she struggled to squeak in tiny sips of air, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then threw her to the floor. Emmie landed hard on her elbows and he stepped between her legs, using his highly polished shoes to kick her knees apart.

  “That’s what I thought. Foolish, foolish, Emeline.”

  “Please…” she whispered, but he acted as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “Do you know how many of my business associates hate your father? How many of them he has bullied? Threatened?” Bastien ran the toe of his shoe along her inner thigh, and although she desperately wanted to close her legs, something about him warned her against it. “Do you know how many of them want nothing more than to do all sorts of terrible things to Jules Daniau’s daughter?”

  Emmie’s stomach twisted and she flinched. He pulled his shoe away, but he still stood between her knees, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. “My father doesn’t care about me at all.”

  Bastien laughed softly. “Oh, I know that, but my associates don’t. You are going to help me make a lot of very advantageous business deals.”

  “You can’t seriously think —”

  “What? That someone would take that offer?” Bastien crouched between her legs, tracing his fingers over her lower belly, before moving to brush her pussy. “Emeline, I already have a waiting list for your cunt.” He thrust two fingers roughly inside her, and she wasn’t wet enough to accept him. It hurt and she tried to shift back from him, but he leaned forward to pinch her nipple.

  “Stop! Please, stop,” she begged and grabbed his hand to try and pry him from her breast, but he ignored her and continued to pump his fingers in and out between her thighs.

  “Your father promised me a virgin, but something tells me that isn’t true, is it?” He twisted her nipple sharply and she cried out. “Is it?” he shouted down at her.

  “No!”

  “You fucking whore.” He brought his hand back and spanked her pussy hard, and she twisted, trying to bring her legs back together. “Who did you fuck? Who?”

  “Go to hell!” Emmie brought her leg up between them and kicked him back. The blow was enough to knock him into the couch and she scrambled to her feet to run for the door. Bastien caught her before she made it, tackling her to the floor. He had her pinned on her stomach, and she screamed in frustration as his body weight made it impossible to push herself up.

  “You stupid bitch, do you really not understand your situation?” His hand landed on the back of her neck, holding her in place as she heard his belt torn free. “I can do whatever I want with you. I can sell you to my associates. I can dress you up. I can make you walk around naked. I can do anything because you’re mine.”

  “Get the fuck off me!” she shouted, trying again to throw him off her, but in her efforts he was able to drive a knee between her thighs, and soon her legs were spread.

  “Say it. Say that you’re mine.” His voice was a low command against her shoulder, and she felt him shifting his clothes, the hard press of his cock against her thigh through his underwear, and then that barrier disappeared as well.

  “I’d rather die,” Emmie growled.

  Bastien laughed, reaching between them to thrust his fingers inside her again. “You know you’re not very wet. This is going to hurt.” For a moment, she planned on just gritting her teeth and letting him do whatever he wanted, but then his fingers dragged up towards her ass and she bucked.

  “No!”

  “Oh, yes, Emeline. You may have fucked some classless aristo at a party years ago, or you may have fucked some criminal out in the forest like an animal – but I don’t think anyone’s taken your ass. Have they?” His voice was sinister, poisoned honey, and she couldn’t fight the fear that took her. He snapped her head back by her hair as he pressed a finger past the tight ring of muscle, and she whined. “I want to hear you say it. Has anyone fucked your ass?”

  “No, please! Bastien, don’t —” With a quick jerk of his hand, he cracked her head against the floor and she felt dazed for a second, until he started to press a second finger inside her and she screamed. His low laugh behind her made her angry, and she tried to twist away from him again, throwing her body to the side ineffectively.

  “Impatient? I am too. I’ve been imagining this since I first met you and your sister.” His teeth nipped at her ribs, and then he leaned up. “Maybe someday I’ll have her too, but you’ll do for now. Deep breath.”

  She screamed as he started to press inside her. It was a burning ache, a vicious stretch and his low groan almost covered her whimpers as she tried to adjust. “Stop, please, stop…”

  “You have to get used to this.” He shoved himself in a little further and she cried out. “There are so many men who want to do this to you, and I’ll be able to tell them first hand just how good it is.” Bastien thrust hard, and she screamed again, shaking as the pain became overwhelming.

  “I’ll do what you want, I promise, just stop!”

  “This is what I want.” He groaned, and then he started to move. The longer he thrust, the less painful it was, but her whole body was tense with the dull ache. Emmie whimpered, clenching her hands into fists as he pressed her into the floor with each vicious return thrust. Suddenly, his pace increased, and she silently begged for him to be done with her. Finally, as if he had heard her pleas, he stilled inside her and she felt the warm rush as he came.

  Emmie gasped when he pulled out of her, and the hard slap of his hand across her ass was humiliating. She felt the hot tears on her cheeks, but she didn’t want him to see so she buried her face in her arms.

  “Stay on your stomach. I want you in this exact position when I come back from cleaning up.” Bastien’s muffled steps moved towards the bathroom and then she heard water running. The pain was weaker now, nothing more than a throbbing ache, but she was still shaking. Her father’s strap had hurt worse than this, but this was different. Worse. “Look at that, obedient already. I knew you just needed a firm hand.”

  “Fuck you,” Emmie growled, looking up at him, and he finished buckling his belt back on before he crouched down in front of her.

  “Listen to me very carefully, Emeline.” Bastien grabbed her chin and craned her head back until she had to support herself with her arms to ease the strain. “I am going to use you as I see fit, but I get to choose who else gets to fuck you, and what they get to do. If you want me to be nice, you have to play nice.”

  “No.”

  His eyes widened for a second, and then he laughed a little and stood up. Before she could react, he had brought his leg back and kicked her hard in the side. All her air left in a whoosh and she curled up on her side as the starburst of pain spread across her ribs, but Bastien pressed his foot to her shoulder until she rolled to her back. “There is a dark blue dress in the wardrobe. I expect you to clean up, put it on, and be ready to come down to eat within the hour. If I have to come back upstairs, you will regret it. Tell me you understand.”

  Emmie clenched her jaw for a moment until he started to drive his heel into the tender space just below her shoulder. “AH! Fine! Yes, I understand!”

  “Wonderful. I’ll see you then.”

  Emmie spent longer in the bath than she should have, but it was her first real bath since before she’d fled the city. The water was warm, and there was a sweet, herbal smelling bath oil that she dumped into the water to scrub the scent of Bastien’s cologne from her, even though the memory of his touch felt burned into her flesh.

  Once she was out, she plaited her hair into a braid to control the frizz, tying it off with a ribbon from a basket on the counter. It was bright white, pristine, perfect – the e
xact opposite of how she felt.

  When she went back into the room, she searched the drawers on the wardrobe, but there were no undergarments to be found. With a growl, she ripped the dress from the hanger and struggled into it. The thing barely came to the bottom of her ass, and plunged so low in the front that her breasts may as well have been out. It was also skin tight, to the point where she was worried a deep breath would burst a seam.

  That would serve him right.

  There was no clock in her room, but she knew she was likely bordering on running out of time so she pulled open the door and turned towards the end of the hall that was lit the most. It turned out to be the right choice because she found the stairs and ran into an older woman at the base. Emmie’s cheeks went crimson, but the woman only nodded.

  “Master Foss is waiting for you in the dining room. Follow me.”

  Bastien was still in a sharp suit, but a different one. This was charcoal, with a deep blue tie that matched her dress. He smiled when she walked in. “I was just about to come get you.”

  “Not necessary,” Emmie muttered.

  “Sit here, we have a nice late lunch prepared.” Bastien snapped his fingers and plates were served by a thin, older man. She stared, fighting the urge to flinch in front of him as she sat down.

  The meal was awkwardly… normal. Bastien rambled on and on about his various businesses in the city, and he barely glanced at her. Why had he made her wear this ridiculous outfit if he wasn’t going to look at her? The food was much better than anything the village had been able to make, but she was well-aware that his plates easily had twice as much food.

  Apparently, he liked women with the malnourished look.

  Throughout lunch he didn’t seem to notice that she never spoke, he was perfectly happy to handle the conversation all on his own. When the meal finally ended, he pulled out her chair and guided her into a room across his main entryway. It was a smaller version of her father’s study, all dark woods, and he dropped into a chair. “Kneel in front of me.”