Deadly Captive

by Bianca Sommerland

  Bruno faced me, arm still on my shoulders. "Look, I get that it's been rough. But you're a fun toy. You've been very entertaining. We thought you'd earned a break.

  Nothing will happen tonight that you don't want."

  He was trying to be charming, reassuring. The effort was painfully obvious. I wasn't buying it. They didn't need to know that either. "Fine." I paused, trying to think of a way to make them believe they had me fooled. Giving in too easily wasn't going to work. Suspicion, laced with hope, just might. "If that's true then give me a hint. What do you have planned?"

  A tinkle of metal sounded as Bruno pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He pointed to a door, not far from where we stood. "Why don't I just show you?"

  I inclined my head, and he went to unlock the door. Chrissie urged me forward.

  My eyes widened when I looked into the room. It was gleaming white, all of it. And it was pure heaven.

  The floors were marble, polished to a glistening sheen, webbed through with different shades of beige. The walls were white granite, ruggedly pieced together so even in monotone it was a work of art. Centered, proudly, was a huge bath, steaming and bubbling. The sight made me want to cry.

  Time had no meaning here. I didn't know how long it had been since I'd last had the chance to bathe properly. It was not something I could remember, but I knew I had once been accustomed to the luxury of more than a sink and strips of sheet with which to clean. It was clear I'd taken very good care of myself.

  Chrissie stepped up beside me, petting my hair. "When you were brought here, you smelled of coconut shampoo. We found some, but there's no way to know if it's the same you used. You were well-kept and cleanly shaven. Everywhere. Your skin was soft, but as though you made efforts to make it so. Everything about you showed that you were never lazy or pampered. We figured if we could give you a gift, any gift, it would be a chance to return to the standard you used to keep yourself in."

  I wanted to hug her. Instead of doing something sentimental or stupid, I forced my expression to neutral and looked at her. "You said I was shaved. Does that mean you're giving me a razor so I can do it again? You aren't worried that I'll—"

  Bruno chuckled and gave me a little shove. "Will you stop trying to be all macho?

  It doesn't work with that sweet face. You want the bath. You don't want to thank us.

  Fine. Enjoy it anyway."

  My body accepted before my mind had a chance to think it through. I was halfway across the room, eyes on the steaming water, before my mind caught up and halted me. There was a catch. Naturally. "I take it privacy isn't an option?"

  Chrissie pouted prettily. "Would you deny us the pleasure of seeing you happy?

  That is the point after all."

  Bruno walked up to me. He rubbed my shoulders. I couldn't help but stiffen. "Go on, Lydia." He touched my neck. I groaned and curved toward him, almost missing his triumphant smirk. "Get in. You know you want to."

  Thoughts muddled, I lifted my hand to my shoulder, ready to strip off my dress.

  Modesty muttered, but I paid it no mind. Refusing to undress in front of them served no purpose. If they wanted, the clothes would come off anyway. Maybe if I was quick, I would get to touch the water before they pounced.

  With that in mind, I lost the dress and surged forward. I ignored their muted laughs as I slipped into the water in a rush. I almost leapt back. The water was just a little hotter than tolerable. My body adjusted however, and I sank down low, ducking my head under. The feeling was pure bliss.

  Tired muscles relaxed, and the air that was cool in contrast refreshed me when I lifted my head from the water. Watching them through the corner of my eye, I rested my head against the smooth edge of the bath. When my skin adapted fully to the temperature, I began to feel the pressure of the stream of water, pressing gloriously against me. Unable to hold my guard anymore, I let it sooth me. Each strong jet pressed against me in a gentle massage.

  I didn't think threats of death could have moved me at that moment. Then again, I was so entrapped in sensations, I probably wouldn't have heard them.

  For a long while, they left me alone. I could sense their presence, but I dismissed them as unimportant. They could watch me to their hearts' content. I fully intended to drink in every ounce of the luxury. I had no doubt it was temporary.

  I became so lost in my self-indulgence that I didn't notice Chrissie's approach.

  Her touch on my hand resting on the side of the bath made my eyes fly open in fright.

  "Relax. I just wanted to know if you wanted some help." She moved her fingers to my shoulder, brushing aside the clinging strands of hair and drifting up my neck to my ear. Stopping there, she gave a hesitant smile. "I could wash your hair, your back.

  Maybe even help you shave if you don't remember how."

  Hair and back I could manage. I hoped agreeing to that would keep her clear of me with any sharp objects. "I wouldn't mind you helping with my hair. It's gotten pretty long. And my back."

  Chrissie nodded and reached over to where the shampoo was set on the step leading up to the bath, the very step I had bypassed completely in my urgency. I wet my hair again and sat up. I cringed involuntarily when she reached for me. I was grateful that she simply lathered my hair without comment.

  Once she'd washed and conditioned my hair, letting me rinse out in the bath, Chrissie took her time washing my back, making it into something of a massage. I was expecting her to try something. When she didn't, I resolved to let the tension go. It wasn't doing me any good, and the gentle care felt so nice. After she'd finished, she handed me a fresh razor, something with four imbedded blades.

  "I find men's razors do a better job," She confided.

  I nodded, not feeling the need to inform her I hadn't known the difference. I took the shaving cream she offered, noting that it was definitely meant for a woman, and proceeded to remove every trace of hair from my legs. Touching them when I was done, satisfied that I had managed without the slightest nick, I sensed that I was much more accustomed to bare flesh than I was to the light hair that had grown. I moved on to my arm pits, making quick work of shaving them clean.

  There was one last place that I had the urge to shave. I hesitated, uncomfortable doing it with them watching. My mind battled with the urge, but finally I gave in. I tried removing the hair while simply bracing my hips up, still well concealed by the deep bath. Finally, again admitting modesty was ridiculous at this point, I got out of the water and sat on the edge of the bath. Foaming a liberal amount of shaving cream into my palm, I lathered myself up. I removed most of the hair without difficulty, ignoring the sensuous feeling of holding myself for the ministrations. It was only the last graze, trying to remove the small bit of stubble that I could feel but not see, that proved to be too much. My own touch teased me and I slipped. I watched the blood drip into the bath. My breath caught.

  I felt a hungry, sharp exhale caress the back of my neck. "Lydia . . . ."

  The razor fell into the bath. I jerked my head to the side. Bruno claimed my mouth even as he turned me in his arms. I felt a slight brush on my throat, hardly enough to be acknowledged, but enough to cast all my objections aside.

  Bruno bent down, his forehead rested on my shoulder. "Please, Lydia. Please let me."

  I groaned as his hand closed around my thigh, the other placed on my hip. I couldn't answer. I knew I wanted to say "no." I was sure I said it. But when he pulled me down a step, all I could do was lean back.

  Bruno spread my thighs and dropped to his knees. I whimpered when his mouth pressed against my pussy, felt the blood smear across his lips. He sucked the wounded lip into his mouth. I bowed back when he bit down.

  I heard Chrissie beside me, whispering something, something soothing. I couldn't hear her. I could only feel. With my pussy lip sucked into Bruno's mouth, I didn't say a word when Chrissie began to fondle my breast. When his tongue pushed into me and Chrissie started kissing me, all I could do was respond.

 
Chrissie groaned and writhed against me when I clung to her. "Lydia, help me."

  Not sure what she was asking, I let her take my hands and guide them. I helped her remove her dress, only realizing now that it was less opulent than her usual outfits.

  No more than a shift dress, it would have been simple to take off if our hands hadn't kept meeting each other as they worked at cross-purposes. I took hold of the strap, and she grabbed my wrist, running her hand up my arm and pulling me closer. Chrissie deepened our kiss and tried to remove the dress herself, and a hard suck from Bruno had me clinging to her.

  Finally, she got the dress off and pressed naked against me. Her breasts, larger than my own, flattened against my chest. She took my hand and guided it down between her thighs. I hesitated, but, when she bit into my neck, I forgot why I was resisting and pushed my fingers into her.

  Wet and tight, she clenched around my fingers. I drove them in mindlessly, my body focused on her sucking, on Bruno's. When Bruno undid his pants, all I could think was yes, now! I clung to Chrissie as he drove into me.

  I felt every inch of him slamming into me as my fingers in Chrissie's pussy matched his rhythm. Unlatching from my neck, she lifted up to the edge of the bath, pulling my head down between her thighs. Bruno pulled out and turned me around so I could reach her easier before slamming back into me. I stuck my tongue into Chrissie's hot sheath without even thinking about it.

  Using Bruno's motions as a guide, I thrust my tongue in and out, grabbing her hips tightly when, overwhelmed, she began to shift. I licked up, drinking in her fluids, and spontaneously wrapped one arm around her waist to free the other so I could stick my fingers back in her, pressing in as deep as I could.

  Chrissie arched back and would have tumbled into the bath if I hadn't been holding her. She spurted into my mouth, and I drank her down, removing my fingers so I could replace them with my tongue, the feeling of her clenching down sending me tumbling over the edge myself. I released her and straightened, throwing one arm around Bruno's neck. He lifted me up and shoved me down on him hard, cursing in pleasure.

  It took a while to come down from the mind-numbing high. When I did, I dropped my head against back Bruno's chest. "Fuck. What the hell am I doing?"

  Bruno freed his slacking cock from my pussy and lowered me to sit at Chrissie's side. Grabbing a towel from the edge of the bath, he whipped it open and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Having some fun. What's the problem?"

  Head tilted back so I could meet his deceptively warm brown eyes, I gave him an incredulous look. "What's the problem? I don't know. How about the fact that you've been torturing and raping me?"

  Looking insulted, Bruno stepped forward and grabbed my chin. "When did I rape you, Lydia? I seem to recall you being quite willing the last time."

  Shoulders hunched, I turned my focus to the glistening marble floors. "Yeah, maybe. But Chrissie made sure both me and Joe knew why I felt that way."

  "That's because Joe was being unfair to you." Chrissie touched my cheek, gently turning me to face her. "Was it so wrong of me to want to spare you that? I know how much you care for him."

  I scoffed. "Gee, thanks. You making him fuck you in front of me shows how very understanding you are."

  Chrissie rolled her eyes. "Come on, Lydia. You know very well why you and Joe are here. If you would only accept your position, things would go much smoother."

  Pushing myself away from her, towel clutched close around me, I turned so I could face both her and Bruno. "Look, I don't get what's with the whole grand gesture of kindness, but I know one thing hasn't changed. I cease to entertain, and I die. My refusal to accept my position entertains you. Passive acceptance would be dull. I'd rather be a living prisoner than a dead pet, if you don't mind."

  Bruno and Chrissie exchanged a look I couldn't read. Bruno shrugged. Fetching a terrycloth robe from an inlaid closet that was craftily camouflaged in the wall, he brought it to me, not speaking again until I had donned it and tied the belt. "Would you believe me if I told you I could change that?"

  I cocked my head, lip quirked in dry amusement. "That you could. Maybe. That you will? Not a chance."

  With an irritated sound, Bruno turned away. Chrissie took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I snatched my hand away, my embarrassment at what I'd done overriding my caution. I fully expected Chrissie to grab me again, or perhaps lose her careful composure. She did neither. Unfazed, she held up her hand toward the door as Bruno opened it.

  "There are some clothes in the room across the hall. Go choose what you want and meet us when you're ready," she said.

  I walked out, eyes on the door across the hall, excited by the offer, though I tried not to let it show. Privacy. It was something I'd missed without even knowing I did. The idea of being able to choose my own clothes, no matter what the selection might be, was appealing as well. I had my hand on the doorknob before I'd fully thought through what I was doing. The cool metal against my palm gave me a moment of clarity. Petty temptations were interfering with my resolve. I'd decided not to lose my wariness, no matter what they offered.

  Nothing prepared me for how much the little pleasures would affect me.

  Turning the knob, I pushed the door, letting it swing in. The door came back toward me, and I took a quick side step in to avoid colliding with it when it slammed shut. Being locked in didn't worry me, not at that moment. What bothered me was how easy it was getting to forget all they'd done. I was afraid to see what else I'd let them do.

  The room was long and deep, lit only by a dim lamp, set on a small table at the very end. I caught sight of a switch by the doorframe to my left and flicked it on. The room flooded with light.

  Bright, fluorescent lights lined the entire ceiling, setting off the various outfits hung on metal rods at each side of the room. The outfits were sorted by color from lightest to darkest and, within each color group, from longest to shortest. There were dresses of every style, from gaudy gowns to transparent slips. Suits, jeans, shirts, all of the finest quality. Soft to sturdy. Pretty to serviceable.

  I ran my fingers along the clothes, nothing catching my eye until I saw a collection of uniforms I knew immediately were Gie. Martial arts uniforms. I wasn't sure how I knew; the word for them was just suddenly in my mind. They seemed familiar, somehow. I lifted a black one off the rack.

  I could see myself, donning one just like it, going through some of the very same motions I practiced with Joe. The image was so clear in my mind I was tempted to put it on, just to keep the vision. Shaking my head, I replaced the Gie. It was an indulgence, a foolish one at that. I'd look pretty silly walking around dressed like I was going to a competition.

  Pushing the persistent thoughts aside, I began to search more seriously for something practical to wear. There was no telling how long Bruno and Chrissie would give me to dress, and I preferred to be fully clothed before I saw them again.

  I made my selection with bare attention to the task, found a chair, and dropped the clothes on it while I fished through a set of drawers I found behind the last line of outfits. With a happy little sigh, I dug through the first drawer, losing my carefully held detachment once again. So silly, but just the sight made me giddy. Fresh underwear of all different kinds and colors, still packaged, and socks. I hadn't been allowed either since my capture.

  Without removing the robe, I chose a pair of black cotton boy shorts and slipped them on. The material felt heavenly, as well as comfortable. Sitting on the floor, I pulled on a pair of thick black socks. Wriggling my toes, I laughed at myself, reminding myself sternly that the illusion of security the clothing gave me was just that. An illusion. Then I made a face and told myself to shut the hell up. I'd enjoy it while it lasted.

  Reminded of the passing time, I stood and grabbed the army green cargo pants I'd chosen, looking back at the drawers thoughtfully while I pulled them on. I went back to them, pulling open a drawer I hadn't checked in my excitement over the socks and panties. I smiled when I fished through the ju
mble within and found a black sports bra that looked to be my size.

  With the bra on, I pulled on the black racerback, sleeveless shirt I'd found and shrugged on the light leather jacket. Wanting to see myself before I went back out, I glanced around for a mirror. A knock at the door stalled my search. For a moment, I considered ignoring it. With a sigh, I decided there was really no point in prolonging the inevitable.

  "Come in. I'm dressed." I watched the door open, shoving my hands in my pockets, trying to appear indifferent.

  Bruno grinned, coming toward me. "I would have preferred something sexy, but that suits you." He held out a pair of black leather boots, perfect to complete the outfit.

  "I had a feeling these would be suitable."

  Mumbling thanks, I took the boots, sitting on the chair so I could tug them on. I didn't like how well he read me, or how predictable I apparently was. It would make planning escape rather difficult.

  "There's a mirror if you want to check out how you look," Chrissie said from the doorway.

  Bruno nodded, shoving some outfits out of the way, revealing a full-length mirror.

  The image in the mirror was a stranger. I couldn't be that pale. Those couldn't be my green eyes, wide and fearful. The creature that looked at me from the mirror was very young and very alone. I clenched my fist, and the image became more familiar. I knew that stubborn jaw, those squared shoulders. I knew the flashing emerald eyes that suddenly narrowed when Chrissie began, without a word, to brush my hair back from my face, fixing it into a no-nonsense ponytail.

  When Chrissie met my gaze through the mirror, my whole countenance immediately smoothed into one of enduring calm, a touch of hesitant joy, just beneath the surface. With my features carefully schooled, I relaxed into my role. There I was, controlled, intelligent, and adaptive. All they had done hadn't changed that, no matter what memories I had lost.

  Reminding myself how easily they read me, I stashed the thoughts away, keeping them hidden in the back of my mind. A bit of the fear and uncertainty returned to the reflection, but it didn't bother me this time. The glimpse of myself, still holding strong, had been enough to sustain me.