by Olivia Ryann
I didn’t even think twice about robbing them. Screw those women for getting paid enough to overlook a captive amongst them. I didn’t wince as I took a little bit of money, several pens, a pen knife, and a pad of paper.
I stayed up late, thinking and plotting. Writing on my newfound stash of paper.
Today, I went back to the basement floor and wait until they are occupied upstairs. Then I steal from the pantry, a little of this and a little that. Not so much that it will be noticed, just a few days worth of bread and cheese and a couple of apples.
Then I grab the first thing I see to contain it, a freshly cleaned tea towel, and I slip out of the kitchens. It’s as easy as that.
Heart pounding, I race upstairs as fast as my legs will carry me. When I get close to my room though, I hear Monster storming down the hall. How did he know about it so quickly? I only just went downstairs!
As I round the corner and duck into my room, I look for somewhere to hide my tea towel. Frantic, I dump it all in the bathtub and close the bathroom door behind me part of the way.
I don’t even make it to the bed before Monster marches in, looking upset. Maybe upset is too nice a word for it… he looks murderous. My heart begins to pound in my chest.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, grabbing me by the arm. He gives me a sharp shake that’s hard enough to make my head snap backward. He’s so much bigger than me, he could easily hurt me or kill me with very little effort.
I swallow the huge lump that forms in my throat.
“Nothing!” I insist, acting as if I don’t know why he’s upset.
“Liar,” he insists, shaking my again. “Don’t bother trying to spin your web, you stupid girl. My brother found your little note.”
I feel myself go pale. “I— It was—”
He cuts me off. “No, no more.”
Monster thrusts me face first onto the bed, then he begins pulling out The Box. At the first flash of gold, my chest seizes up. I remember all too well what it felt like to be sealed inside.
Words pour out out of my mouth, promising him absolutely anything to avoid The Box.
“No! Monster, please!” I plead, dread filling my heart as I look at The Box with wide, frightened eyes. “I swear, I’ll do anything! Anything but that!”
He rips the lid off of The Box, pausing for a beat. His grey eyes are alight with fury.
“Get undressed,” he says, his words angry.
I don’t ask questions. I just slip my dress over my head, throwing it aside on the bed. I shiver convulsively, feeling more naked than I’ve ever felt before. He takes a moment to look at me, his eyes probing me in all kinds of places that I desperately wish were still private.
“Stop moving,” he commands, leaving The Box on the floor and rising to his feet.
I hold my breath and force myself to stay still. I notice that instead of his usual getup of dark slacks and a dark button up, he’s wearing a black silk robe. As if I interrupted his dressing routine or got him out of bed suddenly, somehow.
I watch him prowl around the bed, flushing hot all over under his gaze. If I could go back in time, I would have put some conditions on my offer to do anything he asked. Anything is too much, too permissive.
I desperately watch his face, searching for a clue about what he is thinking. I don’t want The Box, but neither I going to give up my virginity to him willingly. Surely he won’t ask that much of me, not for such a small infraction.
I tremble as I feel his gaze as it lingers on my breasts, my pussy, the round globes of my ass.
“You want to avoid the box?” he says, his hungry eyes coming up to rest on my face.
I swallow again, licking my lips. My answer comes out in a whisper. “Yes.”
He cocks his head, a cruel smirk playing across his lips. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”
My heart drops to my stomach. I don’t think I heard him correctly. “Wh— what?”
“You heard me.” He folds his muscular arms across his chest. “Lay down and spread your legs. Give me a show. Make me more interested in watching you masturbate than watching you scream inside the box.”
I bite my lip, blushing to my roots. “But… why?”
He glares at me. “Because, little girl. You interrupted me this morning, just when I had my cock nice and hard. If you want to avoid the box, you’d better fix that right away.”
I drop my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. The fact that he just admitted to masturbating is one thing, but the fact that he wants me to do it? Here, now? In front of him, while he presumable gets pleasure from it?
That makes me die a little bit inside.
I glance at The Box, shuddering because I remember being locked inside there, with no light, thinking I was going to choke to death.
I’m stuck between two awful choices… but it’s pretty clear that one option makes me irrationally afraid. The other just skeeves me out.
I have to do what he asks. I glance up at him, and he can see my answer written in my eyes. A fleeting smile passes over his face.
“Good decision,” he says, biting off the words like they’re chewy. He waves a hand. “Get going. I want to see everything.”
Trembling and blushing like mad, I lie down, my heart as wild as a rabbit’s. I can’t believe I’m about to do this; I don’t even touch myself very often at home. I never know who is listening, or who might burst into my room.
“You’re already doing it wrong,” Monster says, arching a brow. He motions for me to come closer. “Come down here to the end of the bed so I can see you.”
I scoot down to the end of the bed, shaking and blushing. I sit at the end, lying back.
“You’re not selling this as a good alternative to being in the box,” he says, his tone bored. “Are you going to make me change my mind and rescind my offer?”
I shake my head, feeling tears of shame prick the corners of my eyes. I run my hands down my torso, feeling my breasts, my hipbones. I pet my thighs and my mons, stroking them over and over in a slow rhythm.
“Spread your thighs apart,” Monster urges impatiently.
I follow his orders, finding myself perversely glad that he is telling me what to do. This is a situation of his creation, so I shouldn’t feel anything but angry at him. But as I part my thighs and widen my knees on the end of the bed, I can’t find that emotion amongst the swirl of feelings inside my head.
I slip two fingers down the crease of my pussy, trying not to watch him but failing. His eyes are fixated on my every movement as he begins to untie the sash of his robe. He’s completely naked underneath, his musculature intense and beautiful.
And his… his penis…
I haven’t known that many, certainly never any so close as the few feet that separate me from him. But hold crap, I don’t recall ever seeing one so big. It’s… it’s monstrous.
How fitting, that Monster should be so well-endowed. He can barely fit his fist around his… member. He strokes it roughly, which makes me wonder if that’s what… how… he likes sex.
My face flames as I have the thought. I need to focus on what I am doing instead of him.
Monster’s gaze flits to my face. “Wet your fingers with your tongue.”
I shake like a leaf as I bring my fingers up to my mouth, closing my lips around them. My saliva coats the tips of my fingers, and I put my fingers back down between my legs.
I close my eyes and turn my head away from him as I gently probe my clit and my lower lips. My heart pounds in my ears as I circle my clit ever so gently, then dip a finger into my entrance.
To my surprise, I’m not bone dry. No, it seems that somehow a little… stimulation… goes a long way toward getting me nice and juicy.
I’m ashamed of myself, but I try not to think of that right now. Instead, I focus on my clit, using the pads off two fingers to circle it slowly.
“Look at me,” Monster says, his voice little more than a rumble in his chest.
I open my eyes, biting my lip, and look at him. He leans over me, not touching but still much too close, working his fist up and down his dick. He licks his lips, his excitement palpable.
“Tell me how it feels,” he rumbles. “Or make sounds. Do something for me.”
If I have to describe anything out loud, I am sure that I will literally die. So instead, I lean my head back, looking at the dark blue ceiling, and make breathy sounds. At first, they’re kind of forced, but then… then they’re not.
I let out a moan as I begin to move my fingers a little faster. I shouldn’t be turned on by this, but the knowledge that this is off limits — that this is totally taboo — only spurs me on.
My hips start to jerk rhythmically, in time with some mysterious drumbeat that only I can hear.
“Fuck,” Monster growls, his voice urgent. “Sit up, Fiore. Sit up!”
Confused, I prop myself up on one elbow. He’s flushed and breathing hard, jackhammering his dick directly at me. I’m so flustered, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
He pins me with his eyes, that perfect grey gaze seeming to go right through me. I turn my head a little, but I never break his gaze.
He groans and stiffens, then unleashes several long squirts of hot white stickiness onto my bare breasts and my upper stomach. I’m so surprised, all I can do is sit there like a slack-jawed idiot, blinking up at him.
He strokes his penis slower and slower, eventually stopping. He draws his robe closed over himself, tying the sash. He surveys me with a critical eye.
“Clean yourself up.” He sounds distasteful. “Quickly, before I have the maids come in to fix the mess you made with their things.”
Monster turns on his heel and marches out of the room, not sparing me another word. I sit there for a long minute, trying to breathe, before I get up and clean myself off.
I’m too shocked by the abrupt ending to really draw any conclusions, but I do know one thing.
I just had my first sexual encounter…
And it was… well, it was definitely something.
10
Katherine
I’m on my own again for the next few days. I don’t know where Monster is, and no one communicates with me. The maids glare at me with suspicious eyes every time I see them.
I guess that’s my penance for stealing their stuff.
Wandering the halls of the mansion aimlessly, I find myself replaying the events of the other day over and over again. Specifically, I remember the moment when I sat up, looking him in the eye.
I try to understand the mercurial emotions that passed between us just then. Anger and rage. Lust. But there was more than that.
Perhaps there was attraction, coming from me and from him?
I don’t understand it, and I definitely do not like it. Or him.
But it was there nonetheless.
I consider it, trying to divorce the idea of him from the concept of what he’s done. Yes, he’s a kidnapper, a murderer, a torturer.
But when I picture him in my mind’s eye, I do think of his smooth muscles and big frame. I do think of the way his black button up shirts are just a little snug, pulling a bit at the chest and on his biceps.
And after his display the other day, I can’t help but think of his big… package. It was huge, as thick as a soda can and twice as long.
I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t lain in bed, trying to figure out how his penis was supposed to… to fit… inside any woman’s vagina.
It just seems so wrong and impossible that God would create a man so… destructive. Taking away Monster’s personality, take away his misdeeds. Just having a penis like that…
Like it was made to ruin whatever poor woman caught Monster’s attention?
That seemed really cruel, from the get go. Like God was laughing at whatever fly was caught in Monster’s web.
And since I am currently the fly flitting around the outsides of that web, I have good reason to worry.
I would be also lying if I said that I didn’t imagine how he would fit inside my body. Not that I want that, of course. It looks painful. But I had that thought, all the same.
During the afternoons, I walk in the yard, trailed by Sin and the other guards. I spend my time memorizing the tall stonework fence, staring at every little crack, trying to make myself remember the main defects.
Because I don’t intend to be here forever. I’m not sure how long it will take Monster to grow bored of me. Nor am I certain what he will do then. Rape and murder are on the top of the list of things I’m worried about, though.
I am definitely not going to stick around and see if Monster just changes his mind on a whim, though. When the time comes that I need to be ready to flee… assuming that there is even a moment when Sin or the maids aren’t looking right at me… I’ll be ready to go.
I try talking to Sin, but he just stares off into the distance as if I’m not here. Eventually I leave Sin and the bodyguards behind in the afternoon heat, in favor of wandering around inside the house.
I’ve never spent so much time not doing anything. At home, I was always doing laundry or scrubbing floors or cooking something for someone. While I don’t miss doing those things much, I am at a loss for what I’m supposed to do.
What do I do? By the end of the third day alone, with no one to speak to, I’m at my wit’s end. I invent little games for myself, as a way of staying sane.
I wander through the empty rooms, betting myself whether or not I can find any lost items from the people that used to live here. Because it’s obvious enough that a family used to live here.
I can tell by certain details. The small notches carved into a doorframe to chart someone’s growth. The scratches on the floor in a large bright room that I imagine used to be a living room. The light marks in an arc pattern indicate a rocking horse, maybe.
Okay, so I don’t know what kind of activity they are proof of, but I like to think that the family that used to live here was healthy and vital. I spend a little time wondering how many children were here, and how old they were.
How did Monster come to own this house? What happened to the family that lived here?
I find a room that used to be a library, with soaring built in bookshelves and a bricked over fireplace. The room is down by the locked rooms in what I’ve come to think of as the east wing. I like the library, for all it’s empty shelves. All the wood bookshelves are brightly polished, and so well-hewn. It feels warm somehow, as if it was once cherished and well kept by someone.
As I’m exploring the bookshelves, looking for any bit of information to feed my curious mind, I find something.
On the edge of one of the tall bookshelves, tucked off to the side, there is a little lever. I glance around to make sure no one is watching, holding my breath, then I push up on the lever.
I hear gears grinding somewhere behind the bookshelf, and then the frigging wall moves. I back up as it opens a few inches, giving a long suffering sigh.
I think I accidentally opened a secret passage of some kind!
My eyes are wide and my fingers trembling as I pry at the opening. I have to really pull at it to get the bookshelf to move, but soon a dark hallway is partially illuminated by the sunlight in the library.
Unable to resist the lure of something new and different to break up my day, I slip inside. As soon as I’m inside, I immediately sneeze. There’s a thick layer of dust on the floor, several inches at least.
Apparently no one has used this passage for a long, long time.
The passage is probably only three feet wide and perhaps twenty feet long. I creep forward, putting my hands out when it gets too dark to see in front of my face. I stumble over something lying on the floor, maybe a stack of books or magazines.
When I reach the other end of the passage, I find a broad, flat door. There is a smooth wooden handle that I pull down on, which releases a latch on the other side. The gears start grinding, and then suddenly I’m in a room I’ve never seen befo
re.
The walls are all black, the room itself dimly lit by only a parted curtain. I can tell that it is definitely a bedroom… there is a big bed, draped in black silk and a couple of bedside tables. Other than a door that probably leads to an adjoining bathroom, a sleek black cabinet for clothing storage, and a plain wooden bookshelf that matches the ones I just saw in the library, the room in empty.
Shit! I suddenly put a couple of things together in my head, and realize whose bedroom I am probably inside.
Monster’s bedroom.
A laugh bubbles to my lips, even as I realize how dangerous being in here is. It strikes me as funny for some reason, finding Monster’s place of refuge. There is a joke to be made about how he must not be a vampire after all, but who would I make it to?
The black walls stare back at me, seeming to taunt me. The thought occurs to me that this could be Sin’s bedroom or one of the other bodyguards, but…
There is something about this room that just shouts Monster to me. I can’t resist sneaking forward into the room, running my fingertips over the black silk sheets of his bed.
I leave the whisper of silk behind in favor of Monster’s bedside table. I go over to it, biting my lip and crinkling my brow when I see a picture of Monster in the French Quarter. I pick up the picture gently, staring at Monster looking happy, posing with a slim-hipped brunette. I examine the woman clinging to him tightly, realizing with a start that she and I look very much alike, except for our hair.
Mostly just in our faces, and the way we carry ourselves. In an expensive and pricey black lace dress, it’s obvious that she’s dressed much flashier than me. She wears a pair of sky-high heels and clutches a tiny black purse.
But nothing could disguise the dark circles under her eyes, or the whiff of whipped dog she puts off in her bearing. It makes me wonder who she is, where she’s from.
And just what she’s doing on the arm of my kidnapper, grinning and posing.
I cautiously put the frame back and slip open the drawer below. There are a few papers at the bottom and a small blue bottle of unlabeled white pills, but nothing that sheds any light on who Monster is.
