I'm new to the site, but this story has been buried in my computer for what seems like ages. I wrote it in first person, which I don't normally do, so I hope it doesn't read too awkwardly. I'm not a very experienced writer, either, but hopefully you get some enjoyment out of it (I did). This first part's a bit slow, but it picks up soon enough. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
***
There was nothing special about the night I was taken. It was a balmy night in July, the sort of weather that lulls people into a foolish and dangerous complacency. Most of the town was asleep, lights were out and windows shut, but there were a few night owls still roaming the streets. I was getting off work at the bar, and I had that all-too-familiar feeling of needing to take a long, hot shower after five hours of being ogled and leered at. Men at the bar catcalled just about any female with a pulse, but the waitresses were favorite targets, thanks to skimpy uniforms and the owner’s tendency to hire young, pretty girls. I’d always thought myself more cute than anything, with my strawberry blonde hair, blue/grey eyes and the spattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks. I hadn’t grown since my junior year of high school; I stood 5’7” and couldn’t have weighed more than 115 lbs soaking wet. Most of my height came from my legs, which were on display due to the warmer weather and denim skirt that got me so many tips at the bar. (I stood by my claim that I had some of the nicest legs in town).
My apartment was within walking distance, and because I wasn’t alarmed by dark allies or lonely streets the way most sensible people are, I set out for home without taking notice of who might be tagging along. I didn’t see the dark shadow that slithered along behind me, didn’t hear the soft shuffle of creeping feet, didn’t feel the air chill as he descended.
By the time his hand clamped over my mouth it was too late to scream. My fate was sealed the moment his strong arm tightened around my stomach, and no amount of bucking or flailing got me any closer to where I wanted to be: far away from him. I didn’t have to recognize the smell of chloroform to know the damp rag he pressed against my nose was bad news. Chloroform takes a lot longer to work than people think. I had time to struggle, time to panic, time to wonder why this was happening to me, and, worst of all, what would happen next. And then the darkness came seeping in, the way rancid ink oozes into white paper, and I was gone, swallowed by a great and terrible black.
***
When I came to I was lying naked in a cold, dark room, which was empty save for a length of chain that bound me to the wall and a pile of white lying directly to my left. I squinted to see it, reaching out for it in the dark. It was soft to the touch, and very light. Picking it up, I set it in my lap, eyes widening as I realized what it was. It was my dress, a white lace one I had owned for ages. Taped to the dress was a note: “Put this on”. Sick and twisted as the situation was, I decided I’d take some clothes over no clothes any day.
I stood up and slipped the airy cloth over my slender frame, wishing I had a bra and panties to go with it. The dress was a bit small, so it clung to my chest and pulled a bit as it went over my hips. It hit a few inches above the knee, so it wasn’t too short, but with no panties to wear I wished it were longer. It did nothing to keep out the cold, damp chill in the room, and as I lay back down I drew my knees tightly to my chest, wishing for all the world somebody had left me a pair of socks.
I stayed in the dark for what felt like a long while. Scared as I was, there wasn’t much I could do, so I slept, drifting in and out of consciousness. I must have been sleeping when my captor came down the hall, because I didn’t wake up until a harsh light came pouring in through the open door, nearly blinding me. I flinched away with a groan, though every fiber in my body was screaming to make a run for it. Even if I had been alert enough to run away, the heavy chain around my ankle made it impossible.
“Did you sleep well?” The voice was silky smooth; it seemed to glide through the air to reach me. I squinted at the figure in the doorway, who was obscured by the bright light behind him.
“Who are you?” I asked, scrambling to my feet. My joints ached from the cold, and I had to lean against the wall for support as I stood.
The figure took a few steps into the room, advancing towards me. “Look at you; you’re so beautiful…”
“Who are you?!” I demanded, staggering forward a few steps.
“I hoped it would still fit you…”
“I want to know who you are!” I lunged towards him, but the chain pulled taught. I lost my balance and nearly fell, but he caught me and pushed me upright, holding onto my arm to support my weak body.
“Now now, let’s not be hasty. You’ve gone a very long time without food, and I’m sure you’re very weak. But beautiful…still so beautiful…” He reached out absentmindedly to stroke my hair, and I instinctively flinched away, striking out at him with a clenched fist.
He caught my slender wrist and made a disapproving clucking sound, shaking his head. “Oh, Sadie, you still have so much learn,” he said, sounded disappointed. Then, in a flash, his mood turned, and he gripped my wrist hard, pulling me towards him and pressing me against his chest. “I am your MASTER, Sadie. I will touch you WHERE I want, WHEN I want and HOW I want,” he hissed, one hand traveling down my body as the other kept a firm hold on my wrist.
Exhausted, confused and frightened, I squirmed in his grasp until my knees started shaking. A sob caught in my throat as my whole body shuddered. He noticed the change and relaxed his grip on my wrist, his hand stroking my hair again. “There, there, pet. Hush now. You’ll have real reason to cry soon enough. Rest now, my sweet.”
I collapsed against him, my body shivering. There was something soothing about his voice, something that disarmed me, though it could’ve all been due to the lack of food and water. “I’m cold…” I murmured, certain at any moment my legs really would give out and I’d be reduced to a heap of bones on the frigid floor.
“I know, pet, but I had to keep you here. You’ll understand soon enough… All in time.”
My vision was beginning to blur... it felt like falling, like I was tumbling to the bottom of some deep well. I needed to know why he was keeping me here… what he wanted… I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. And then I was swallowed by a great black sleep, and there were no more words.
***
I woke in a room infinitely more comfortable than the first. It was spacious and full of light, most of which seemed to be streaming through a large window on the far wall. I was also in bed, resting on a large, cushion-y mattress with thick sheets and a wonderfully soft comforter. For a moment, I was content. I rolled over in the glorious bed, eyes heavy with sleep. What was that sound? It was a loud clanking, like chain, like… I looked down and saw the heavy shackle still around my ankle. The other end bound me to one of the bed’s ornately carved legs. I screamed.
I screamed bloody murder for ten whole minuets. I thrashed and I bucked and flailed and I tugged on the chain in vain, and when I couldn’t scream anymore I buried my face in one of the bed’s enormous pillows and beat on the mattress with a hatred and frustration unlike anything I’d ever felt. I wasn’t able to cry proper tears (I suppose I was too dehydrated; it was a miracle I’d even been able to have the tantrum I’d had), but my anguish was clearly expressed in nearly inhuman moans. When I finally looked up from the pillow and took a good look at the room, I noticed something I hadn’t before: a tray of food on a low wooden table a few feet from the bed. The chain was long enough to allow me to reach the table (perhaps 8 feet long), but not long enough for me to reach the door across from the foot of the bed.
I scurried over to the table and examined its contents, my mouth watered as I gazed upon mounds of fruit and several bottles of water. I took the whole tray back to the bed and ate ravenously, head bent like some feral animal as I wolfed down juicy peaches and ripe apples and wonderfully sweet strawberries. I was so preoccupied with the feast I’d been provided that I hardly noticed when the large door swung open and my dear friend from the dungeon appeared in the doorway.
“Oh good, you’re eating! I’m so glad!”
I glanced up from the pile of pulpy peach I was clutching in both hands, sweet juice dribbling from my mouth and running down my chin. Dropping the fruit in surprise, I proceeded to skitter backwards, backing myself up against the headboard to put as much distance between myself and him as possible. I was still wearing the white dress, and the lacy fabric rode up on my pale thighs like some lewd invitation. I pulled it down in haste.
The man, who I could see much better in the daylight, laughed at this and stepped inside, shaking his head. He was tall, a good six inches taller than my 5’7”, and seemed fit, if not athletic. His hair was brown, nothing special there, and his face was clean shaven. It was his eyes that really caught me. They were a startling blue, the very bright sort that seem to almost glow, and they alarmed me immediately. He was, for whatever reason, dressed very nicely, wearing a crisp button-up shirt and suit pants. He had a loosened tie around his neck, as though he’d just come from a very important meeting.
I eyed him warily, knowing full well there wasn’t much I could do if he wanted to come over to me. He stayed just a few feet inside the door, watching me watch him. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort. “I was sure you were awake by now. Not that you kept it any sort of secret. My, I wasn’t sure you’d ever stop screaming. But I had a feeling the food might quiet you, and it has.” He smiled a wicked little grin, advancing towards the bed. “Cat got your tongue, my dear?”
My mouth opened and closed like that of a dying fish; I couldn’t seem to find anything to say to him. He strolled over to the bed and sat down nonchalantly on the edge of bed, ignoring me completely as he picked up an uneaten peach from the tray and turned it over in his hand, eyeing the soft sphere. “These are your favorite, aren’t they?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.
“How did you know that?” I whispered, still pressed against the headboard. Now that I had some of my strength back, I was determined not to be overtaken by him.
“I know lots of things about you. 21, pretty little thing from a small town. No past, no future. Taking classes at community college, working nights, busing tables and serving beers. Your mother’s dead, isn’t that right?”
I didn’t like the way he spoke. I hated that voice, so soft and cloying. It wound itself around me, choked me so that I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t answer him.
“You live alone, obviously. You think you can handle yourself. You think you’re very strong, but I know you’re not. You’ll know it too, soon enough.”
He edged just the slightest bit closer, though he refused to make eye contact, still preoccupied with the peach. “You don’t like to need people. Dependency is weakness. Your mother depended on your father, that belligerent drunkard, and look where it got her. Killed. He was a monster, wasn’t he? Did he scare you, Sadie? Did you hide from him under the covers, the way small children hide from monsters? He was a monster, wasn’t he? I’m not a monster, Sadie. Not unless I have to be.” He reached towards me, and though I wanted very badly to get away from him, something rooted me to the spot. He rested his hand on the heavy shackle, stroking it thoughtfully as the other hand rolled the peach over and over.
“Of course, now you’re entirely dependent. On me. You’ve eaten my food… You’re in my bed…” he moved closer, his hand edging up my leg. My skin prickled, and my heart pounded in my chest; it seemed to crash against my ribs with every desperate beat. “That’s why I had to keep you downstairs, you know. So you could learn. Without me…you’re nothing. Without me, you die. Without me, you cease to exist.” His hand slithered over my thigh like a snake, and still I couldn’t move. “Sadie,” his hand slipped between my legs, pressing hard against my sex, “you’re mine.”
I couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were so fierce, they glowed like blue coals, and at that moment I felt fear and want like I’d never felt before. When his hand finally withdrew I jerked away from him as though I’d been hit, insults and protests fairly frothing at my lips. “No! No no no, you’re wrong! Wrong about me, wrong about it all! Don’t you touch me, you sick, twisted son of a bitch!”
He shook his head and stood up from the bed, looking down on me as though I were a very silly child who couldn’t yet grasp his grownup words. “Such a nasty little mouth. We’ll have to fix that,” he said.
“You’re crazy!” I hissed, now fully recovered from his speech. “You can’t chain me up like some sort of animal!”
“Sadie,” He spoke with a note of irritation in his voice now, as though I were trying his patience. “We’ve already discussed this. You belong to me; I can do with you as I please. I will do my best to be patient with you, I know you have some aggression to work out, but I can’t have you carrying on like this.”
He was unbelievable. He spoke as though I were the mentally deranged one.
I changed tactics, hoping there was some scrap of humanity in him I could appeal to. “P-please. I’m…I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just that this is all very scary, and I want to go home…please…I swear, I won’t tell a soul. Not ever!”
To my surprise, he snorted and shook his head. “Don’t blubber, Sadie; it doesn’t suit you.” He sounded almost disdainful, as though I were making a mockery of his plan by begging to be released. “Anyway, if that was really how you planned on getting out of here, you didn’t put on a very good show.”
Hot tears of frustration welled in my eyes. It was all so unfair. I gritted my teeth and lowered my head, desperate to keep him from seeing, but he already had. “Now, now, don’t cry. You’re very fragile, you know.” I looked up at him, blinking away the tears. He rolled the peach over in his hand once more, squeezing the flesh hard enough for a bit of juice to seep out. “Most things worth having are.” With that he dropped the fruit onto the ground; I watched it roll away and disappear under the bed.
I’d had enough. Enough of his games, enough of his cryptic words. “You can’t keep me here! Someone’s going to find me. You’re sick. You’re a sick bastard, and I won’t stay here with you! Not as your slave or anything else!”
“That’s enough now,” he said, brushing me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s time to put you down for your nap.” Before I could puzzle out with that meant, he produced a syringe from his pants pocket and pierced my leg with the wicked little needle. I yelped in pain and surprise, enraged by the indignity. A tranquilizer? How dare he!
“You bastard!” I hissed. I lunged for him, but he was already on his way out of the room. The last thing I saw as the powerful sedative overtook me were his blue eyes, watching me from the doorway.