That night instead of slinking off after he’d finished with her, he simply eased to one side, leaving his arm draped about her waist and she felt his breath against her neck. It was not a comfortable night that she passed. He was practically in the same position the following morning. Only his hand had found its way between her warm thighs and was lodged there. He was sound asleep.
For an insane second she thought of trying to wrap the chain around his neck, or find something to suffocate him. But the reality and the fear of failure kept her frozen next to him, staring at him. When he finally awoke, he gave her a look as if he knew what she’d been thinking. He sat up and rubbed his face and eyes. He took the blanket off her. She was naked from the previous night.
“Are you bleeding yet?” he asked. “Down there. Are you menstruating right now?”
She shook her head. He leaned past her and fumbled with the pregnancy test box. He pulled out a strip. “Go piss on that.”
She did as he told her without question. He stayed with her while waiting for the result. Her mind was a blank. She had no idea how she would react, how he would react, if it came up positive. The box said to wait two minutes for the result. When he saw the results had come up negative he flew into a rage. He grabbed the strip out of her hand and flung it against the wall. He walked around the room, swearing and rubbing his face. He offered to pay her a thousand dollars to have his baby, as if she was somehow deliberately stopping her body from conceiving.
She lost her period altogether, probably from the extreme amount of stress she had undergone, and he made her take the test again in a couple of days.
She knew he wasn’t going to let her go. He intended to keep her prisoner indefinitely. These thoughts were confirmed when he forced her to write a letter to her mother telling her that she had broken up with her boyfriend and was touring until she could get her head straight, and that she would call soon.
“Don’t write your boyfriend’s name,” he said. “I don’t trust you.”
She had little difficulty writing the letter. She knew her family would never believe it, and just to make certain, she wrote in a different handstyle and signed off “Nikkie”, which she would never do.
“I’m going to post the letter from New York,” he said. He dug around in her purse and got out her cell phone. “Call your boyfriend.”
It felt very strange to be calling Cameron. Her stomach was in knots. It seemed a life time ago since she had heard his voice. How could she keep herself from begging him to help her, begging him to come get her? If her mother and he hadn’t had any contact, they might not even know she’s missing. While she dialed with trembling fingers James instructed her what to say. He was holding a kitchen knife. When she put the phone to her ear, waiting for someone to pick up, he put the blade flat on her cheek. “You disobey me—break your promise… ” he whispered, but didn’t finish.
She listened to the ringtone, and small tears began to trickle out of her eyes.
Cameron answered. She heard his voice and she crumbled. Her sobbing was like the chattering of dry leaves. She could hear him saying her name desperately, asking where she was, asking if she was hurt. He kept saying, “Nicole, sweetie, where are you, Nicole answer me!”
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. So he knew—they knew she was in trouble. They would be looking for her. She was still in Idaho, but she wasn’t sure where, and she knew if she deviated from what she had been instructed to say, James would kill her.
She clutched the phone tightly. “I don’t want to see you any more,” she said in despair. “We never get to see each other anyway!” She didn’t try desperately hard not to cry, because all girls cry when they break up with their boyfriends. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just need time to think,” she managed to say before James snatched the phone from her and shut it off. She sat quietly. She had flipped her hair back, and her bright blue eyes, tears streaming out, were looking right at him.
“You did good!” he said at last and made her flinch.
Speaking to Cameron gave her a small feeling of security, that he would find her.
“Can I put my dress on?” she asked humbly. “The one you bought me?”
“Do whatever you want,” he said, preoccupied. She scooted over the mattress and snatched up the white dress he had dragged off her last night. She slipped it over her head, and sat watching him.
There was a loud knock on the front door. He threw himself on her and covered her mouth. “’Sh-h’,” he whispered. She couldn’t see the front door, but it was just around the corner from the lounge. It took everything she had not to start struggling and screaming. He had her hair wrapped around his fist and his other hand on her mouth.
There was another loud knock, and someone called out, “Jim!”
He suddenly let her go. She didn’t bother screaming, because he evidently knew the man calling. He went to answer the door.
She could hear them talking. In a moment a man poked his head around the corner and looked in at her. Even though she was wearing a dress she felt completely exposed. They both came in and the man stood looking at her with a serious expression, while James grabbed the letter she’d written. He gave it to the other man. They both looked at her as if she was a new piece of equipment.
The guy mumbled something to James, smiling as if it was a joke. Then he went and kneeled on the mattress with her and she froze, hugging herself. He crept toward her. She looked pleadingly at James, somehow expecting him to step in and help her, but he didn’t. She closed her eyes. She sat very still and rigid while the guy took the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and bared her breasts.
“Oh, my fucking God!” he said, half laughing, as if he was dizzy. “Look at these titties.” He squeezed them and sucked them. She was dying with humiliation. He moved up and kissed and licked her neck. The shock of this new, intrusive sensation made her gasp and turn her face aside. She had become almost numb to James’s touch but this was a fresh shock to her already straining nerves.
“Sweet,” he said. He could have kissed her, but he didn’t. It was as if he knew he was only allowed to have a sample. He left her to pull up her own straps. Her throat and breasts were wet with his slobber. Hatred was burning inside her.
“See ya,” said James to the guy on his way out. He was eating a cold sausage leaning in the door way, staring at her. “Don’t look at me all pissy. He’s doing me a favor. I told him he could have a feel.”
She looked away at the wall and stared at it persistently. A touch of fear swept over her as he approached. She kept her face away and wouldn’t make eye contact. He crouched down and she broke and had to look at him.
“I don’t mind sharing my things,” he said. “So long as I know that it’s mine. Are you mine, Nicole?”
She debated within herself whether she should try and coax him, try and get him to start to trust her, or if she should just stay a silent, passive thing.
“I’m yours now,” she said. “That’s why I don’t want anyone touching me, except you.” She was afraid he knew what she was doing, that she had been too obvious, but she kept her gaze steadily fixed on his.
“That’s right, you are fucking mine, whether you like it or not.” He gave her a shove in the head. “You’ll get to love it. You’ll get used to me. Open your mouth, open your mouth!” He stuck his fingers in her mouth, and sawed them in and out, like he would with her pussy. He almost gagged her a few times. “Are you going to stay with me?” he said. “You could go to sleep every night with my come in you. Are you going to stay? Are you going to stay?”
She nodded, and put her hand over his to try and make him ease up on her mouth.
“Just remember that you’re mine,” he said, running a finger gently around her lips. “Stick out your tongue.” He kissed her sucking at her tongue. Then he stood up and unzipped his jeans. “Are you going to get excited over my cock?” He rubbed his impatient prick right in her face. He grabbed her hair. “Look at the thing that’s going to fuck you.”
He pushed her on her back and fell on her, pushing her dress up around her waist. His thumbs brushed the sensitive areas around her hips. “Did you think he was going to fuck you, my friend that was here just now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. Her hands were pressing subtly on his chest. She felt so fragile, and he seemed so energetic, she felt he would break her.
“You didn’t know what he was going to do?”
“Did you have a funny feeling that was going to happen? That he was going to do that to you? He wanted to fuck you. He didn’t do it because I would have beaten the shit out of him. You see? All men just want to get their end in. Did you want him to screw you while I was there watching?”
He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s watch something,” he said. He turned on the television and put on some porn. He sat in the couch and made her kneel between his legs. He pushed her face down on his cock sticking up from his jeans. “How far can you go?” he said, steadily pushing down on her head. “Go as far as you can. Good girl, almost there, almost there.”
His cock went down her throat. She started to gag and he kept pushing. She put her hands on his jean-clad thighs. She thought he was going to gag her to death.
“Have you heard the term angry dragon?” he said, laughing. “Don’t worry, I won’t do it to you.”
He let her go and she choked and wiped the saliva away from her mouth and chin. The television was providing sex sounds, and he massaged his hands through her hair. “Have you ever watched porn before? Waited till your parents had gone out, then frig yourself while watching a couple of people enjoying a good fuck?”
“Suck it a little bit,” he said, easing her head down. He watched the television, thrusting his hips up to meet her mouth. Whenever the girl in the video cried or moaned loudly, he hit her mouth harder and pressed down on the back of her head. “It’s a shame you can’t suck and watch at the same time,” he said. “I’ll tell you what they’re doing. He’s kneeling down and kissing and sucking her cunt. He has her legs spread all the way open, pushin’ em’ up and back, and is looking into her smooth pussy. We should shave yours, eh?
“Now he’s licking around it with his tongue, while he rubs his nose against her stiff clit. Fuck, you feel good. Now he’s standing up, and she has her arm around his hip so she can reach his balls from behind, with her other hand she’s holding his dick; she’s drawing up and down the soft skin, now its going in her mouth. She’s taken nearly half of it in; she’s sucking it, just like you’re sucking mine.” His prick swelled, she felt it throb. She thought he was going to come, and it would be over, but he kept going. His hand was buried in her hair, and his stomach was sucked in, clenching in and out convulsively.
He pulled her up onto his lap and made her sit on his wet dick. He drew her straps down her shoulders and uncovered her breasts. His hands went over her hips.
“Move yourself on me,” he said.
She was frozen, her arms covering her breasts. She could feel that he was deep inside her, and he was looking at her. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do it. His dick was pulsing in her, waiting.
“Move,” he said. “Come on. Fuck me. You’ve been on top before haven’t you?”
He took her hands and put them on his shoulders. She slowly started to grind herself against him. His left hand passed under her bottom, to support as well as steer her, to indicate what pace he wanted. He leaned to the side so he could still see the television. As he got hotter and hotter he didn’t seem to know if he wanted to look at her or the screen. He worked his hands over her, feeling the lines of her hips and thighs, as she undulated herself against him. “Oh baby, yeah, squeeze my cock with your pussy. Come on, come on! Squeeze it tight—make me feel good… Yeah, that’s it. Oh, you’re gonna make me come so soon, baby.”
He pulled her hair back to turn her face upwards and to push out her breasts. He ran his other hand over them, plucking her tiny nipples. The moaning and grunting from the porn excited him. “Kiss me. Keep kissing me,” he said. His hands went all over her torso—her shoulders, breasts, waist, buttocks. He pulled her into him with complete abandon. She kept kissing him, her tongue meeting his, circling and pushing back.
“Put your legs around me.” He stood up with her in his arms, taking care that his prick remained firmly planted in her. “I want you in my bed.”
She felt all shivery, and her pussy seemed burning with heat. She clung to him with a sinking heart as he carried her upstairs. His bedroom was small and stuffy and had a ’dirty clothes’ smell. He placed her on her back with her bottom projecting over the edge of the bed, her dress was all up, her thighs stretched wide open, and her legs resting on his shoulders. He held her hips, pulling her against him, as he just licked her pussy lips, then slipped his tongue in and wiggled it a little. She moved her thighs uneasily.
“Luscious pussy,” he said, rubbing his hand over it. He had a good look at it, sucking, and flicking his tongue at her clit. She was tense and colouring and flushing uneasily under his close inspection. After he had licked her continuously for about a minute, she felt herself go numb. Her whole body went limp. She gazed upward without seeing or feeling. She was in that state where she hardly knew what he was doing, and let him do whatever he wanted. He must have felt the life go out of her, because he slapped her thigh near her hip, and dug his tongue in harder. It woke her out of it. She flushed hotly and painfully.
“You prefer this to my dick, don’t you,” he said as he poked her and his thumb began to rub over her swollen clit. He made loud sloppy noises as he licked and sucked at it again. “I love eating pussy,” he said, rubbing vigorously. “You like me licking your pussy?”
He pushed her legs off his shoulders and stood up. Her legs dropped to the floor. She stayed motionless. The position flattened her tummy, and her hips, her pussy were pushed outwards towards him. He lightly touched her tummy while he massaged himself slowly, pinching the head. It was red and hot-looking. “See how hard you’ve got it? Lick it.”
She sat up, and leaning forward licked the swollen head of his dick. It was sticky and undesirable.
He let his jeans drop to the floor, then tore his shirt off over his head. He lay on the bed. “Take your dress off.” She started to lift it up over her head. “No, stand up and let it slip down your body. Be a little bit sexy for me.”
She got off the bed and slowly and obediently slipped the dress down the length of her body, tugging it down over her hips. When it lay at her feet she stepped out of it. She felt very slender and vulnerable, her hair falling loosely over her bare shoulders.
“Turn around and show me that ass. Bend over, spread your ass cheeks. You’ve got a nice looking little hole, nice and tight and neat. Give your ass a little slap.”
It was ridiculous doing what he asked, but she didn’t care about that any more. She just didn’t want to get hurt.
“Keep bending down,” he said. “Touch your clit with your finger, run it up and down. That’s it, keep bending over so I can see. Now stick your finger in your mouth. Get it wet, then slip it up your ass. Push your finger right in. Yeah, like that. You dirty bitch. Get over here.”
She glanced at the bedroom door, then at him again. He was holding out his hand for her to go to him. She wanted to escape, but she knew she would never make it out that door. She reluctantly climbed onto the bed. He grabbed her arm and she sat on his belly.
“Take my cock into your pussy,” he said. “Do it yourself.”
She reached down and put its head between the lips of her cunt, and sitting down forced it up. She slowly felt herself sink onto the full length of his dick. He sighed deeply, massaging her thighs.
She had a little extra fat on her upper thighs, which he seemed to love to grab and squeeze. If she had been with a man she was attracted to she would have been embarrassed, but she was dead with him.
“Put your hands up and tussle your hair, whip it back and forth,” he said.
She reached up, her breasts lifting, and gave him what he wanted. She shook her hair, and whipped it back and forth. She was careful with her bandaged hand. Only her fingertips had been spared from the burning.
“That’s so sexy baby, that’s so sexy,” he said. “Touch your breasts, squeeze and roll them around. Give em’ a few slaps. Lick your tits for me.”
He was starting to rock himself inside her. He held her waist pushing his hips up, his dick gouging deep inside her. Then he relaxed again, panting. His eyes were deep brown and strangely vacant.
“Pump yourself up and down on me,” he said.
She jogged herself up and down, her breasts bouncing slightly. He touched them lightly letting them bounce against his hands.
“Yeah,” he sighed. Then he made her slowly grind herself deeply backwards and forwards. “What’s something dirty you’ve done, that no one knows about?”
The question was unexpected and confronted her, but she wanted to indulge him and make him think she was getting into him.
“Um… Someone gave me a vibrator as a gift—”
“Yes,” she said hesitatingly. She hadn’t wanted to bring him into it. “I was home by myself once—my parents had gone out. I decided to get it out and try it. I was too scared to use it at first, because I’d only had sex a couple of times, and I thought it would be harder and more violent than my boyfriend’s dick. But I was really missing him, so I got olive oil from the kitchen and put it all over it to make it slippery.”
“Did you baby?” he said. “And how did you use it?”
“It was a smooth insertable vibrator, so I carefully put it inside me and moved it to different areas to see what the sensations were like, and to see which I liked best.”
“What way did you like it best?” he asked. He sounded drugged.
“I liked to place the tip against my clit, then slide the shaft down between my pussy lips, and insert the vibrator inside, and then bring it back up in a reverse stroke, sliding along my clit again on the way up. I kept doing that slowly, over and over, and let my orgasm build intensely. If it brought me to the point too quickly, I backed it off and tried less intense stimulation, or sometimes I turned it off and used my hand. I like to build slowly.”
“Did you try and put it up your ass?” he asked.
“Not successfully? It hurt a little bit?”
“I was just scared.”
“Do you still have that vibrator?”
“Not any more.”
“Maybe I should get you another one,” he said. “You’re so hot, baby. Keep moving on me.” He parked his hands on her waist, at the top of her hips, and let her do the work. He was using his hands to indicate how he wanted her to move, the pace he wanted, as if guiding her in the art of fucking.
She was silent and her eyes were shut tight as she applied herself to the task. When she opened them again, he was already looking at her. His mouth was open. He seemed almost delirious with pleasure, especially because she was providing her own friction to his embedded cock.
“What are you doing to me, Nicole?” he asked, breathlessly. She didn’t understand the question and stayed silent. “What’s my prick doing in your cunt?” he said.
“Fucking me,” she said.
“And what are you doing to me?”
“I’m fucking you.”
He sat up and clasped her in his arms. “Yeah, Nicole. Fuck me.” He held her closely, looking down at where their bellies and pelvic areas were joined and grinding. He kissed her lazily, toying with her tongue, hopelessly desirous.
He pushed his face into her neck, and with his fingertips felt the softness of her blonde tresses. He tucked a strand behind her ear, looking intently at her lips. He slowed down, holding her with one arm around her waist. She tried not to make direct eye contact, but he held her face, wanting her to look. “My whole life is fucked,” he said. “This is the only thing that works for me, getting inside you. I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always. Say you want me, tell me.”
He held her like he was rocking a baby.
“I want you,” she said, hiding herself against him. “I want you, I want you, I want you.”
* * *
He didn’t let go for a long time after he came. He lay back and she was on his chest, clasped against him.
“You got into it a little bit more this time, didn’t you?” he said. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. It was good.” When he was gentle like this, she almost had compassion for him.
“Which part did you like the best?” he asked.
“I like being on top,” she said, becoming a little restless. He let her get off him, and she lay on her stomach. He ran his fingers over her naked back.
They were silent for some time.
He crept closer to her, and brushed his lips against her. “Are you still cut up about that phone call with your old boyfriend?” he asked.
“Not much,” she whispered. “We didn’t get to see each other anyway.” She closed her eyes to hold back the tears.
“You’ll get over it,” he said. “When my wife took my daughter, it messed me up. Hey… ” He rubbed her back. “You hungry?”
He took her downstairs to the cluttered kitchen. It had plain, whitewashed walls, and was piled with dirty dishes. He made her some crackers with butter. He lifted her up onto the counter and stood between her legs. She took a small bite of a cracker, and glanced out the narrow window above the sink. It was completely dark outside, she couldn’t see a thing. He caressed her hair and touched her face and legs while they ate. He didn’t leave her alone for a second. He lifted her bandaged hand to his lips and softly kissed her fingertips.
“You’re not like the other girls,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you.”
Something about the way he said that, made her feel very scared about what happened to the other girls. He lifted her down from the bench.
“You should get to bed,” he said. “I’ve got some things I’ve got to do.”
She looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 9:00pm. He took her into the lounge. He unwrapped the chain from the beam, but he didn’t put it on her. He took her back upstairs to his bedroom with the chain. He attached it to the head of the bed.
“I want you to stay up here with me.”
“You don’t have to chain me up,” she said humbly, as he began to put it around her wrist. “I can make breakfast for us in the morning, before you wake up. Please?”
“I wouldn’t even try,” he said. He gave her a little kiss, followed by a tap on the cheek. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“What do you mean I shouldn’t even try?”
“You can bat your eyelids and speak all sweet, but I’m not letting you off that chain, until I can trust you. I’ll know before you when that time comes.”
He closed the door, and she sat in the dark room. She listened and waited to see if he was coming back. Then she got up and quickly investigated the chain to see if there was any way to get out of it. She tugged and pulled and fiddled. It was a heavy bed but she pulled so hard she moved it slightly and it grated along the floorboards. She caught her breath in fear that he may have heard. She waited in terror. But he didn’t come.
She tried to retrieve her white dress on the floor, but it was just out of reach. She crawled into bed and put the covers over herself. The blanket, the sheets, the pillows, everything smelled of him. She couldn’t get away from him. Especially now that she had earned the dubious honour of sharing his bed. She would have to keep coaxing him, until he trusted her enough that she could get away. She had to get out of this. She had to get back to her family, or live long enough that they could find her and take her home.
She thought about the other girls, and wondered where they were, if they were dead, if they were still here somewhere. His words went over and over in her head. She began to cry slowly.