Attached to the opposite wall was a stainless steel sink with more plastic lining its inside. An antique chest, massive metal dog cage, and solid folding chair were the only other items in the room.
My mind raced with every possible scenario for why someone would need a setup such as this.
Heavy footsteps echoed around the basement as they descended a set of worn wooden stairs off to the far left.
I scampered to the opposite back corner, not wanting to be right beside the bed.
My heart sank the second I saw his face. If he was allowing me to see who he was, he had no intention of letting me go. Not alive, at least.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he greeted, smiling brightly.
His cheerfully sunny disposition threw me off-kilter. I studied him, disgusted by the way his eyes seemed to devour my body from head to toe.
He didn’t look anything like I thought he would.
I expected to see a man physically flawed and rugged, but what I got was the opposite.
His hair was nearly auburn and neatly styled, while his build was more on the athletic side. He had a face meant to charm and deceive.
“Do you approve?” he asked, approaching the cell door.
I kept my mouth clamped shut, refusing to say a word. Had he not kidnapped me, I may have found him attractive. Good looks didn’t mean shit if the person underneath them was a deranged psychopath.
“Playing the silent game? I guess that’s better than begging to know why you’re here, but I’m going to tell you anyway, soon.”
He unlocked the cell door with a tiny golden key, and stepped inside.
“Go sit on your bed,” he commanded softly.
That was it?
He expected me to be obedient?
Shifting my eyes between him and the bare mattress, I shook my head from side to side. “That’s not my bed.”
He smirked. “Of course it’s your bed. This is your home now.”
“My home?” I parroted, releasing a bitter laugh. “You’re fucking crazy.”
His dark brows furrowed, mouth turning down at the sides. “I’ll let that completely ridiculous insult slide just this once because you’re new, but please don’t make me ask again.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself, but something in his voice had my brain warning me to be cautious.
Keeping a wide berth to maintain personal space, I did what he wanted.
Now standing beside the twin sized mattress, I watched him, waiting with bated breath, wondering what he’d do next.
“Good, good.” He nodded. “Now, why don’t you have a seat?”
If there was one thing I didn’t want to do, it was have a fucking seat. But what was my other option?
There were two parts of my mind, each stressing their opinion. Rationality knew what this was going to escalate to. Denial had me wrapped tight in a false sense of security, believing I could find a way out of this.
Eyeing the surprisingly clean mattress with more than a little trepidation, I slowly sunk down and tucked my knees into my chest.
“See, that wasn’t so hard. Relax a little; there’s no need to be uptight,” he said, flashing me a smile. “Now before we go any further I think you should at least know my name, don’t you?”
“How is knowing your name going to help me?”
“Uh, it won’t,” he laughed softly, “but it will give you something to scream, something to plead when you’re begging for a reprieve from all the pain. Hell, something to sit down here and curse when you’re all alone.”
A sour taste flooded my mouth. I scooted backward, pressing myself against the wall.
He held up his palm in a steadying gesture. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that yet. I only have about three hours, and I’d like to spend them getting acquainted.”
“Acquainted?”
“I need to make sure we’re a good fit. I have to make sure it feels right, so I can start breaking you in first thing tomorrow. Think of it as an initiation; all my girls have to go through one,” he explained.
Images of him strapping me into that god awful chair flashed through my mind, making me weak in the legs.
“Why are you doing this?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He came closer, stopping near the end of the mattress. “I’m doing this because no one told me I couldn’t. Of course, I didn’t ask for permission, but when you want something bad enough, you have to do whatever is necessary to get it.”
I watched him creep closer, my muscles tensing and heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
He stopped again, close enough that if I reached out an arm, he’d be touching me.
Unable to sit still any longer, I rose to my feet and bolted to the opposite corner, frantically searching for an escape I knew didn’t exist.
The iron door straight ahead of me was the only way out of the cell, the wooden staircase the only way out of the basement.
“Go ahead, make a run for it,” he taunted, making a sweeping gesture with his hand to urge me forward.
I shuffled a step or two, and then stopped. The chain around my ankle served as a reminder that even if I made it out of the cell, I’d be stopped long before I could reach the staircase.
“Good decision. I’m glad to see you have some common sense. The last girl wasn’t as bright.”
The last girl?
My head spun, stomach sinking with the knowledge that he’d done this before.
“You won’t get away with this.”
“Sweetheart, look around you. I already have.”
“I have family.”
“I’m aware. Your father owns a cement company and your mother refurbishes antiques. They seem like nice folks. Unfortunately, that means nothing to me, and doesn’t do shit for you.”
He’d done his research. Once again, I found myself wondering just how long he’d been watching me. How could I have not known?
I clutched my arms and shut my eyes, tremors causing my hands to shake.
“I get this is a hard pill to swallow, but you’re going to have to deal with that on your own time. This is mine. Come here.”
“No,” I saidfirmly .
“That wasn’t debatable. Walk over here, now,” he snapped, losing all traces of the easy-going personality he’d shown thus far.
I could feel any bravado rapidly diminishing, taking my ability to speak with it. My heartbeat turned sluggish, and the cold sweat intensified.
“Our first time was supposed to be special, but you have to listen. If you don’t listen, you must be punished,” he said, so calmly I never expected what came next.
I thought he was leaving. Instead, he walked to where my ankle chain was attached to the wall, and took hold of the slackened end.
Rapidly winding it around his fist, he started reeling me towards him.
Grabbing my end, I pulled back, feeling the rusted metal bite into my palms. Eventually, I lost my balance, landing on my back.
My body smacked against the stone; I gritted my teeth to stop from crying out.
There was nothing for me to grab onto. I clawed at the floor in desperation until the nail on my index finger split right down the center. I clenched my jaw, hissing from the searing pain.
When I was where he wanted me, right at his booted feet, he bent down and flipped me onto my stomach.
My chin bounced off the floor, rattling the teeth inside my mouth.
“Stop!” I yelled, kicking at him with my good leg. He ignored me and wrenched my arms behind my back.
I twisted and turned to no avail; he was too strong for me to fight off.
He held me with a single hand, removing something from his pocket.
“The more you struggle, the more fun this is going to be for me,” he admonished, managing to secure what felt like a zip tie around my wrists, pulling it so tight, my bones grated together.
He stepped over my writhing form and grabbed hold of
the chain again.
“Please—” was all I managed to get out before he began to drag me towards the mattress.
He kept me on the floor and cushioned his knees with the bed. The sound of his zipper going down sent my panic into overdrive.
I wanted to curl into a ball, sink into the floor…anything but be right here in this moment.
Things like this weren’t supposed to happen, but there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.
“It didn’t have to be this way. You should have just listened to me,” he said, forcing my ass into the air.
“You don’t have to do this,” I choked out.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he tsked, “I’ve waited months to do this.”
I heard him spit, and nearly gagged.
He probed and rubbed me with his fingers, feeling up my labia.
When I felt his hard cock against my entrance, I shut my eyes, praying it would be over fast.
“You can call me J, for future reference,” he said, forcing himself inside me.
I sucked in a breath and curled my fingers into fists, squirming in pained discomfort as he forced me to take all of him at once.
“You aren’t wet enough,” he grumbled, pulling right back out.
He spat into his hand again, this time shoving his fingers inside me, twisting them in a circular motion.
He tightened his hold on my hips and entered me again, proceeding to fuck me from behind ruthlessly.
He’d said he only had three hours. I swear he spent two hours and fifty-eight minutes of them inside me.
I begged him to stop.
He laughed and thrust harder.
I shook with silent sobs, wondering if it would ever end, eventually focusing on a blank spot on the wall, trying to block it all out.
No matter what I did to take myself to some faraway place, I knew I would remember this forever. The way he smelled. His face. The sounds he was making.
The way he felt inside me.
When he finally finished, he was thrusting so hard I’d begun to scoot across the floor, bruising my knees. My arms felt as if they were going to pop out of their sockets.
“Fuck,” he groaned, smacking my ass.
“Harper…” He pulled out and hissed my name. A second later, I felt his come hit my lower back, running down in-between my shoulder blades. I kept my head lowered, unable to do much else.
“Good news. We’re a perfect fit,” he said after an elongated stretch of me sniffling. “If you thought that was bad, wait until I strap you in the chair.”
I felt his lips on my cheek, and then he stood up and zipped himself away.
He walked out of the cell whistling a peppy tune.
The door slammed upon his departure, a locking mechanism loudly clicking into place.
I flipped onto my side, trying to free my arms, giving up before he even reached the top of the stairs.
The light shut off, and everything went dark.
–Chapter Seven–
J
When I left Harper, early dawn was blanketing the sky.
I was half-way home when I realized I’d forgotten to remove the zip-tie around her wrists. It was too late to go back; Minnie was expecting me.
She’d just have to find a way to deal with it. Her predicament could be worse. Had she run for the door, I’d have had no choice but to retrain her in the chair much earlier than I planned.
I didn’t understand why women always felt the need to fight back, even when they knew it was futile.
Turning onto Hopkins Boulevard, I waved to Davey West as I drove by. He returned the gesture and went back to staring off into space.
Poor bastard had never gotten over the disappearance of his granddaughter.
At just nineteen, she was the youngest of all my girls. All it took to lure her was the promise of a ride on my dick.
She became more of an annoyance than a toy a mere three weeks into her captivity. A quick slit of her throat was the end of that.
I didn’t have to worry about such things with Harper. She’d already shown me she was different by taking a few seconds to use her common sense.
That also meant I had to keep a closer eye on her. The smart ones always thought they could get one over on me, pull some overly submissive bullshit in hopes I’d eventually slip up and make a rookie mistake.
I’d been doing this too long for that to ever happen again.
I’d been fortunate enough to have friends willing to fix my screw-up.
They made it clear they wouldn’t be stepping in again.
Finally reaching the end of my driveway, I pulled in, parking directly outside the garage of my Tudor.
The drapes in the living room were already drawn, which could only mean one thing.
Expelling a heavy sigh, my plan to take a long, nice hot shower before work went up in smoke.
Instead, I would have to go inside and deal with my wife.
–Chapter Eight–
Harper
-Day 2-
He came back what could have been hours, but felt like days later.
The removal of the zip tie was what roused me from my unintentional slumber. I whimpered as my arms fell limply to my sides.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” J soothed, running a hand through my tangled hair.
Any attempt to protest was feeble. My throat was swollen from all the screaming, crying, and begging I’d already done.
He picked me up, holding me as if I were a fragile piece of glass, and carried me right out of the cell.
His shirt was off; my cheek pressed into the warmth of his solid chest.
I felt the firmness of his abs as he walked.
My eyes watered a bit, adjusting to the bright light again, honing in on the chain to see just how far it extended beyond the cell.
I was sat directly on the folding chair, caddy-corner from the hellish monstrosity with the straps attached to it. My stomach turned to stone just knowing it was in the same room as me.
“I shouldn’t have left you like that yesterday,” J began.
Yesterday? Had it really been a full day?
What he did to me felt like a dream, something I could have pretended had never happened if it weren’t for the throbbing between my legs and the ache in my shoulders.
“I had some things to do for work, and then a dinner I couldn’t miss with the family.”
Why was he telling me this?
It was only when I took a second to really look at him that I realized he was wearing a dark pair of slacks, and a blue button-down was folded on top of the dog cage.
I assumed he was still in the same outfit he wore the previous night…Or maybe this was how he always dressed.
Maybe for work?
I knew nothing about him, but I had to conclude that if he had a family and a job with co-workers, then this side of him was well hidden.
I wasn’t quite sure how one went about obscuring such a screwed up hobby. Where I was being kept had to play a big role in that.
Glancing towards the stairs, I saw a simple wooden door right at the top.
Freedom was through there.
I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I knew I’d never make it.
I could barely swat a fly in my current state, let alone take on J once he came after me, and I was positive he would.
Bide your time, I thought to myself.
If I was going to try and escape—no, when I made my move to escape, I had to do it the right way. I knew I’d only get one chance, and I couldn’t mess it up.
Looking back to J, I watched him fill something inside the sink, attempting to see what was inside the few store bags beside him.
“How do you know so much about me?” I forced myself to ask, my raspy voice sounding foreign to my ears.
He cut the sink off and came back to me with one of the bags and a round wash basin in his hands, setting both down on the floor.
“That’s a loaded question,” he replied, pulling a spong
e and bottle of body-wash out.
He dipped a corner of the sponge into the basin, and lifted it to my face.
“You didn’t flinch,” he noted, gently blotting my skin.
“I’m not scared of you right now,” I replied, surprising myself with my answer. It was true. I wanted to cut his cock off and shove it down his throat until he choked on it, but I wasn’t fearful.
He lifted my chin with two fingers and stared down at me, his silver eyes seemingly searching for something in mine.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Harper,” he said finally, using the sponge to stroke my sore cheek gently.
“I usually only keep a girl around for three or four months. By then, I’ve had her pussy and ass so much it’s not fresh anymore. I think I want to keep you indefinitely. I’m not sure yet; we’ll see.”
I decided the best response was none at all. Otherwise, I’d spit in his face.
I sat still and let him continue my sponge bath, beginning to shiver from the low temperature in the basement.
It took self-control I never knew I had to willingly let him put his hands on me. He washed beneath my breasts, between my legs, lingering there longer than necessary before running the sponge up and down my back.
The entire time, I was forced to breathe in his scent: citrusy fresh peppermint.
“I saw you when I stopped at the station a few months ago. You were leaning against the hood of your car, talking to someone on the phone. You never saw me. The moment I discovered your existence, I knew you were meant to be mine.”
He stepped back, dropping the sponge in the basin, and went to dump it in the sink.
When he returned, there was a brush in his hand. He stood behind me and began to run the bristles through my knotted hair gently.
“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m doing this. More than likely you’ve thought I’m planning to kill you. Usually, I would tell you outright how I was planning to do it.
“I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t feel the need to sugarcoat the situation anymore. But if it makes you feel better, I don’t want to kill you, Harper. You’re not going to be like any of the others.”
He set the brush down, and I felt the warmth from his body fade as he moved away.
Depredation Page 3
