Three Days a Slave: The Complete Novel

by Natasha Stevens

  “Who are you now?” asked Christopher.

  “A new person,” she wept.

  “Which person?” he asked again.

  “Shade,” she said. “I’m Shade.”

  “Shade,” said Christopher. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’m being born,” she moaned, and felt tears escaping as she began to cum in long deep pulsing waves that shook through her whole body, making her weep.

  And then the room exploded.

  * * *

  Derek entered the room and fired a shot into the ceiling. This was not exactly proper room entering procedure, but since he was working solo, and didn’t have a stun grenade, he needed a little shock and awe.

  “FEDERAL AGENT GET YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! ON YOUR KNEES ON YOUR KNEES!” he yelled as he trained the gun on the bizarre and ugly scene in front of him.

  He considered just shooting them, but they were both clustered around his daughter and he didn’t want to chance a stray bullet hitting her.

  He had other plans for her.

  The ponytail one backed slowly away from his stepdaughter – the tattoo on her back was gleaming with fresh ink and blood droplets – and the big black one started to stand up and Derek, seeing how large the guy was, continued forward and hit the guy in the head with his elbow and forearm as hard as he could, keeping the gun aimed upward with the other hand.

  The blow sent a shock of pain through Derek’s arm and shoulder – like hitting a tree – but the blow landed cleanly on the giant’s temple and the guy fell over backwards.

  The ponytail guy was moving forward again but Derek was already back in firing position, the gun aimed at the guy’s chest.

  “Don’t make me say it again,” Derek barked. “On your knees, ankles crossed, hands on top of your head.”

  Ponytail did it.

  “Hello honey,” said Derek calmly, though his daughter was facedown, head pointed away, he was sure she’d recognize his voice.

  She began shrieking, bursting into hysterical tears.

  Good, thought Derek. He smiled at the reaction. “Don’t cry. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

  “Fuck you!” she yelled.

  That, he didn’t like. She’d never said that to him before.

  He held the gun one-handed on Ponytail boy and took out his collapsible baton with the other, and shook it out to its full length.

  “I don’t know what these people have done to you,” he said. “They’ve tried to change you into something that … they want you to be, I can see that. But you’re going to come home with me, where it’s safe, and you can be the girl that you were.”

  “Fuck you!” she said again. “I’ll never be that girl again! If you try to stick your cock in my mouth again, I’ll bite it off you son of a bitch!”

  “Ohhh, honey,” he said, laying the cold metal tip of the baton on one of her legs. “Don’t talk like that. Things will be difficult at first, of course, but you’ll come around. After I … deprogram you. After your hair grows back.”

  “I know what that room in the basement is for! It’s not just for disasters! You were going to lock me in there and keep me there!” she screamed again.

  Derek caressed her leg with the baton. He wished her could see her face, he’d imagine it was appealingly red and tear-streaked, as he enjoyed.

  “You’ll be safe there,” he said. “It’s for the best. You don’t know your own mind, that’s clear. Look at what they’ve done to you. All your beautiful hair. But it will grow back, of course. And that fucking weird tattoo …”

  “I’m not your little bitch anymore! You’ll never control me!” she shrieked.

  “Says the girl who is tied to a frame,” he said. He pressed the metal baton between her legs, just gently at first. “Your punishments will be many, and severe, but you’ll eventually see that I’m just trying to help you.”

  “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” she yelled again. “These people are trying to help me!”

  “But you’re still tied to a frame,” he chuckled, and probed the tip of the rod against her anus.

  Then he felt something wrap around his ankle and pull his legs out from under him, and the ground came up to smash him in the face. He looked to see a large black hand clutching his ankle, but before he could get the gun aimed at it – he’d fallen on the baton – the ponytail kid was above him, on him, and a boot was crashing into his face and flashbulbs were going off in his brain and then the boot came down again and everything was black.

  When the black went away, he couldn’t quite figure out where he was … but when he tried to move he realized he was strapped to an x-shaped frame.

  * * *

  Shade was still trembling, but it wasn’t fear now. The fear that had always consumed her, the helplessness, when she heard his footsteps in the hallway outside her room.

  No, now it was anger.

  At first he’d begin by reminding her about the pictures he’d found on her phone – some underwear shots and one nude she’d sent to a guy in her school she’d liked. He’d spend a long time asking her how she’d feel if her mother – an alcoholic and pill addict prone to violent anger – saw those pictures. Or her friends at school. Or if they just got posted on the internet for the world to see.

  He seemed to love to watch her cry.

  And her underwear. He loved that. “I bought you those panties, I think I deserve to see you in them.”

  The actual blowjob he’d make her give him was always over comparatively quickly.

  It was the fear and the anticipation he seemed to enjoy.

  She could only imagine how fucking … smug he’d feel, with her locked up in the basement.

  To use as he pleased.

  How he’d enjoy the anticipation!

  It seemed to happen every few years – some woman or women would be discovered who had spent ten, fifteen, twenty years as a captive of some sick bastard.

  But those are only the ones who are discovered. How many live out there days in utter misery and die quietly, with no one ever knowing?

  After Z had released her from the frame and then lifted her stepfather into it, Christopher had gagged Derek with a rubber-ball gag, and after cuffing him, had gotten a roll of duct tape and wrapped his arms and legs again, just to make sure he couldn’t get out. Derek had woken up after a few minutes and didn’t scream or struggle, just watched them all with his cold dark eyes.

  Christopher stood to the side with the gun, watching him with eyes that were nearly as cold.

  Shade started to speak, but Christopher said to just be quiet for a while, to let them assess the situation.

  Z had gone to check on the others, after assuring Christopher that he wasn’t badly hurt from the blow to his head. He was gone for what seemed like a long time, but Christopher just kept close watch on Derek, gun at the ready. Shade had gone into the bathroom nearby and splashed water on her face. She could feel the tattoos starting to scab, the skin around them stiffening and crusting.

  She couldn’t stop shaking.

  When she returned, Z was talking softly to Christopher.

  “ … banged them all up pretty good. Nurse was … raped. The doc is unaccounted for, nurse said he went out for coffee and then this guy came in. I checked all the security cameras and I didn’t see anybody outside that looked out of place. I think this guy is alone.”

  “All right. Anyway. Complete bugout. Go upstairs and start splashing bleach around. Then find this guy’s car. Get the others to my mom’s clinic. She’ll know what to do.”

  Z turned his steady gaze on Derek. “And what about this … waste of oxygen?”

  “Well, now, that’s the question, isn’t it?” asked Christopher. Christopher turned to Shade. “Do you want us to kill him?”

  She looked at him, and then shook her head. “I don’t want to be a murderer, and I don’t want you to be a murderer because of me. I’ll … go to the police, if necessary. Surely we can get him locked up. He’s assaulted all of
you.”

  Christopher nodded, thoughtfully. “What about your new life?” asked Christopher. “Police scrutiny is not … exactly what we want, here.”

  “Right,” she said. “I don’t know, Christopher. Are there any other options?”

  He took the ball gag out of Derek’s mouth, careful to keep his hands away from his open mouth.

  “Well, of course, Z and I know how to disappear.” he said.

  “I’ll find you,” said Derek, calmly. “I found you here, I’ll find you there.”

  Christopher smiled. “Well, funny, I have an idea about that. You have a business. A position in the community. A wife, abusive alcoholic bitch though she is. Friends. But suppose at the next reunion with the boys in Afghanistan … them all received e-mails with pictures of you being fucked in the ass by a large black man?”

  Derek’s face went white and his mouth dropped open.

  “What do you think, Shade? Good idea, or not? I guess we could lock him up in the basement here, just like he wanted to lock you up.”

  Shade considered. “No. Fuck him. Literally.”

  Z smiled and went to the cabinet of sex toys and removed a condom.

  Christopher took a knife and began to cut her stepfather’s pants off.

  “I’ll get you for this,” Derek said, calmly, though his breath was coming quickly now. “I’ll find all of you and I’ll get you for this, somehow …”

  Once he had Derek’s pants and underwear off, he stepped back. “Let me just make this clear. You’re connected, clearly. But so are we. And we’ll have people watching you. If you ever seem to be looking for your daughter, or looking for anyone involved in this, or, indeed, abusing anyone else, first, these pictures will go out. After that, a contract will be taken out on your life. Understand?”

  Derek didn’t answer. He was staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

  Z pulled his skull mask back on, and pulled off his bikini briefs and pulled the condom onto his gigantic member and stroked it to life; it stirred slowly, like a cobra wakening.

  She was surprised how little she enjoyed the anticipation.

  She wanted to get right to the action. To see if her father could understand … violation.

  Z lifted her stepfather’s balls and semi-turgid dick and began to drive his cock into his asshole. The position seemed awkward but she supposed the x-brace had been designed to allow access to all orifices as easily as possible.

  Her stepfather didn’t scream at first; his lips were clamped tightly shut and his head was whipping back and forth, and the veins in his neck were standing out just as one was pulsing on his forehead.

  Christopher went to a control panel on the wall and made a few adjustments, looking at the black globes on the ceiling where presumably cameras were located.

  “Christopher,” she whispered. “I find I really don’t want to watch this.”

  Christopher took her hand and led her from the room.

  When her stepfather finally started to scream, it did, however, sound rather sweet to her ears.

  * * *

  Above, Christopher handed her a suitcase which had already been packed with clothes and an envelope that he said contained all the aspects of her new identity.

  She dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt that advertised the old band The Misfits. She’d never listened to them, although she recognized the name. She’d definitely check them out, though.

  “You have an apartment here paid for a couple more months, before you go off to college, but under the circumstances, maybe this would be a good time to go … backpacking around Europe or something.” Said Christopher.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to South America,” she said. “I saw a documentary about Macchu Picchu when I was a kid …” That sentence trailed away as she realized that her childhood had ended forever down in that room today. But then, really, it had ended the first time her stepfather came into her room and unzipped his pants, actually.

  But now … freedom. Complete freedom, and it thrilled her and scared her a little.

  “That’s a great idea. Great place, Peru.” Christopher finally looked like the events were catching up with him; he got them both bottles of water but his hands were shaking.

  “And you? Are you going on a little holiday, also?” asked Shade.

  “Yeah, well, as soon as I square away a few things. As I said, I’m … always ready to disappear.”

  “Even from you mom?”

  He smiled. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Can I ask where you’re going to disappear to?”

  He looked at her. Their eyes lingered.

  “Maybe you’d like to disappear together?” she asked.

  He smiled, and reached over and took her hand. “We have to finish the tattoos, after all.”

  The End … and a new beginning?

  Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the story, don’t forget to leave a review or a link or at least rate it or share it with a friend. It really helps a new author get established!

  Turn the page for more works by Natasha Stevens

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