by Jon Athan
Emiko whimpered as the spoon touched her lips. Her tongue quivered as her taste buds tingled.
Smiling, Ethan said, “Come on. It's okay.”
Emiko reluctantly opened her mouth and accepted the food. Tears materialized in her eyes as she chewed. The food was fine – delicious, in fact. She felt like she was enabling Ethan's erratic behavior, though. She wasn't giving him false hope on purpose, she was just afraid of starving. She had to eat – there were no other options on the table.
Ethan placed the spoon on the tray and said, “You can eat the food by yourself.” He chuckled, then he said, “It's probably a little creepy with me feeding you like that. Like I said: I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. Go ahead and eat. I trust you.”
Emiko took a deep breath, then she crawled closer to the tray. She ate the food while constantly glancing up at her captor. She didn't trust him, obviously. Ethan watched with glowing eyes as Emiko devoured the rice and chicken. He didn't mind her lack of manners in the dungeon.
The young man said, “I'm really sorry about what I did earlier. I love you, Emiko. I truly love you. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing on my mind before bed. You're in my dreams, too. Even when I'm having nightmares, you're there to save me. You're everywhere. I love you so damn much.” He stared down at the tray, dejected. He explained, “It's just... I've been stressed lately. It's been a... frustrating year for me, for want of a better word. I've been treated poorly in the past, you know? I've been tricked by the succubi before and it's made me do some things I regret.”
Mouth full of food, Emiko stopped chewing. She lifted her head from the tray and stared at Ethan with a raised brow.
In an uncertain tone, she repeated, “Succubi?”
“Yes, succubi. I'm sure you're parents told you about them when you were a child like my mother told me. I don't know, maybe they told you about the incubi, but I'm not sure those even exist. Male demons... It's absurd, isn't it?”
The room became quiet. A droplet of water occasionally plunged from the shower head and plopped on the floor, but the couple did not share another word.
Breaking the silence, Ethan asked, “You don't believe me?”
“I don't know about 'succubi.' Sorry,” Emiko responded.
“A succubus is a demon, but it's not like the movies. They look like you or any other woman. They try to seduce men like me to move forward in the world. They don't talk to me because they like me, they just need me to move forward – to climb the ladder of success. Sometimes, they just seduce and torture men for fun. It's sick, but... that's the way life is. Anyway, I don't think you're a succubus. I think we're having regular 'couple problems.' We can work through it.”
Emiko sat, motionless like a stone sculpture. She was awed by her captive's peculiar rambling. She thought: what the hell is he talking about? Ethan leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He lifted the tray from the floor as he stood, then he walked towards the doorway.
He said, “Go ahead and get some sleep, sweetheart. I'm going to work a little, then I'll try to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning.”
Emiko vacantly stared at the door as Ethan secured the locks. She listened to his every movement. The light under the door vanished with a clicking sound. She continued to listen, though. She counted each creaky step on the stairs – 12 steps. The number wouldn't really help her, but it was something to think about as she wallowed in her misery.
Chapter Thirteen
Couples Fight
Ethan sat at his desk in his bedroom, staring at the blinking cursor on his monitor. The insertion cursor mocked him with each blink, as if it were saying: you'll never finish this book, they'll never like your writing. Black bags under his bloodshot eyes, the struggling author felt defeated. He was physically and emotionally drained by the stress.
Dusk had barely arrived, the sun was just falling beyond the horizon, and he already sat in his gray boxer briefs.
He couldn't be bothered to toss on a shirt or some pants. He was solely concerned with his work. Words, words, words – he couldn't think of the words to start his new story. He needed to capture his audience's attention with a hook, but his punches were weaker than a toddler's jabs. The page remained blank.
Sunken-eyed, Ethan glanced at the door to his left. He could hear Emiko's persistent screaming. The shouts were faint, the screaming could not be heard from outside, but they were still bothersome. He held his hands over his ears, stomped his feet, and screamed – frustrated.
He muttered, “Why won't she shut up? I've treated her right. I've shown her respect. Why won't she let me work, damn it?!”
His chair fell back to the floor as he quickly stood from his seat. He marched out of the bedroom, then he paced back-and-forth – walking between the kitchen and living room.
“Ethan,” a man's voice said. “What's going on, champ? Come over here and talk to me.”
Ethan whimpered as he dropped his arms to his side. He approached the mirror on the wall. His reflection was talking to him again.
Ethan said, “I'm losing it, man. I can't write my book, Emiko won't stop screaming... It just doesn't feel right. None of this feels right.”
“That's because it's not right, Ethan,” his reflection responded. “You have a big problem on your hands and you know it. You just can't admit it.”
“I–I have a... problem?”
“Yes. You have to keep Emiko quiet. If she keeps screaming, someone will find out about her and you'll lose her forever. If that happens... well, it's over. You can say goodbye to your career, your lover, and your future. You won't be able to focus on yourself until you can really 'fix' her – until you can trust her. That's your problem.”
Ethan nodded, convinced and determined. He was reassured by his own reflection – a creation of his deranged mind.
He stared at himself and whispered, “You're right. She's still not fixed.” He glanced over at the basement door and said, “Some discipline and a little scare should fix her, though. Yeah...”
In her room, Emiko shouted, “Help! Somebody help me!”
The young woman stared down at her crotch. The skin was rosy and itchy due to the boiling water. Thick, watery blisters also formed around her vagina. She was afraid to burst the blisters, though. Yet, she couldn't stop scratching. The pain was insufferable.
She screamed, “Call 911! Call someone! Oh, God, I need help!”
Ethan marched down the stairs. He flicked a switch on the wall, which caused the light bulb at the center of the room to illuminate. He tugged on his hair and gritted his teeth as he glared at the door. Emiko's yelling was clearer than ever before – and it infuriated him.
He shoved the door open and barked, “Shut up! Shut your damn mouth!”
From the corner of the room, Emiko sniveled and shouted, “Let me go, bastard! Let me go!”
“Shut up, Emiko! Please... be quiet. I've told you several times already: I'll let you go when you're ready. You just–”
“No! Fuck you, you sick bastard! I'm tired of this shit! I'm... I'm tired of everything! I won't stop screaming until you let me go. You hear me, you dirty asshole?! Huh? I won't stop screaming until you let me go!”
Ethan tightly closed his eyes and held his hands over his ears. Emiko's screeching drilled into his ears, like the sound of nails scratching a chalkboard – shrill and unnerving.
Emiko glanced up at the ceiling and yelled, “Help! Somebody help me! I'm down here! Please, somebody help me! He's crazy!”
Crazy – the word steamrolled over Ethan. The word was blasphemous in his household. The pain caused by the word was amplified since it came from the woman he loved. A knife was jammed into his back and twisted in his spine, paralyzing him.
Through his gritted teeth, Ethan sternly said, “Don't ever call me that again, you filthy cunt.”
Emiko stopped screaming and squirmed closer to the wall as Ethan entered the room.
Towering over his captive, Ethan struck down
at Emiko with all of his might – left, right, left, right. He repeatedly punched her, landing blows on her head and face – hooks, jabs, uppercuts. Consumed by his rage, he couldn't control himself. He grunted and groaned with each punch. Tears even trickled from his eyes and landed on the back of Emiko's head.
Ethan grabbed a fistful of her hair, then he pulled Emiko's head back – placing the back of her head against the concrete wall behind her. He pulled his leg back, as if he were preparing to punt a football, then he hit Emiko's face with his knee. Emiko was knocked unconscious by the blow to the face. Her head fell to the side.
Ethan stepped in reverse, awed by his own savage attack. He examined his captive's condition as he caught his breath. Emiko's cheeks were red and swollen. A bruise would surely materialize on her left cheek in a day or two. Blood leaked from her nostrils and swollen lips, painting her chin red. A cut formed on the bridge of her nose, too. The black bruise on her temple, which was caused during the night of the kidnapping, appeared to be worsening.
Emiko slowly opened her eyes, as if she were awakening after a peaceful slumber. She frowned as her blurred vision began to focus – she could see Ethan standing over her.
Through her sliced lips, flecked with blood, Emiko weakly said, “You... You're crazy. You're confused... lost... pathetic. You don't even know what you're doing. This... This isn't love, it's torture.” She giggled deliriously as she shook her head. She said, “You're probably like this because you have a... a little dick. A lot of you are like this because of that... Insecure bastards.”
On the verge of breaking down, Ethan nervously chuckled and said, “Little dick... It's always about the cock for you, isn't it? Let me show you something.”
Ethan continued laughing as he walked out of the room. Emiko leaned towards her right and stared out of the doorway. She followed the man's every step, watching him with the eyes of a hawk. He reached into the washing machine in the basement. As he glanced back at the room, Emiko returned to the corner – terrified.
Ethan stood in the doorway, his right hand hidden behind his back. With a devilish grin on his face, he said, “Let me introduce you to someone. Now, don't get jealous, okay? She's my ex-girlfriend and I don't love her. I just use her to... to relieve some stress. Meet Karen, Emiko.”
Ethan lifted his right arm and revealed a decapitated head – Karen's head. The head was already decomposed. The decomposing head had been reduced to mostly gray skin and bone, although some hair lingered. Maggots and semen filled the head's mouth – Ethan never stopped using it as a fleshlight. Perhaps it was more of a bone-light, though. It emitted an atrocious aroma of death, too.
Eyes wide with fear, Emiko stared at the severed head, then at Ethan. She held her hands over her mouth and retched. She struggled to breathe as a lump of anxiety formed in her throat. She was shocked by the revelation.
Ethan walked to the center of the room and shouted, “This is what happens to succubi! Do you want the same thing to happen to you? Do you?!”
Sobbing and wheezing, Emiko shook her head and said, “Please don't kill me. I don't want to die. Not like this. Please, don't...”
“You have to prove you're not fake, Emiko. You have to show me you're not a succubus. If you are one of them, you'll end up just like Karen. You'll still be with me, but you won't be alive to hurt anyone else. No, you'll only be able to pleasure people. You'll be like her... a real fleshlight – but maybe without the flesh. You have to prove yourself.”
The room became quiet. Ethan watched his captive with glimmering eyes. Despite the blood and bruises, he was still captivated by her beauty. Emiko kept her head down and eyes low, trying to avoid the decapitated head. She was ready to appease her captor, but she wasn't willing to accept the blood and gore.
Recomposed, Ethan sighed, then he said, “Listen, I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm still frustrated about my book and I couldn't work with your screaming. I couldn't focus without knowing if you were... one of them.”
Pretending to apologize, Emiko said, “I'm sorry, too. I didn't know I was bothering you so much. Can you...” She paused to recompose herself, then she asked, “Can you get rid of that thing? Please?”
Ethan stared down at the decapitated head, amazed. It worked, he thought, I scared some sense into her. Like a toy in a child's room, he carelessly tossed the severed head back into the basement. The head bounced on the concrete until it stopped near the cardboard boxes.
Emiko took a deep breath, then she said, “Listen, I'm... I'm not like the other girls, but I just can't stay here. I'm begging you. Let's go outside. Let's go on a normal date. You don't have to keep me chained up like this. We can be like everyone else. We can be a normal couple.”
“I can't let you go like this. It would be like... like releasing a feral animal into the public. We have to wait until you're ready. This is for you as much as it's for me. If I let you go and you're one of those things, you'll still end up like Karen. I'm not the only succubus hunter out there, you know? When your love is proven, we'll be free from all of this. I promise.”
Emiko's breathing intensified as she fought the urge to cry. She tried to breathe through her nose, but her nostrils were crushed – a snorting sound emerged with each breath. She wiped the tears from her eyes and reluctantly nodded – okay. She didn't want to aggravate the situation by challenging him.
Ethan smiled and said, “Good, good. I have a test we can take to... well, to test your love.”
“A–A test?”
“Yes. It will help me relieve stress and I think it will please you. Hell, we'll even make some money off of it. I need to fill my bank anyway. I haven't published anything in months, so my funds are running a bit low. Don't worry, though. I have savings. I can take care of–”
“What are you going to do to me?” Emiko asked, interrupting Ethan's rambling.
“Well, I'm not going to hurt you or anything like that. We're doing this together, okay? Let me just get you something a little more comfortable and sexy to wear. I hope it fits.”
As Ethan rushed out of the room, excited like a child on Christmas Eve, Emiko said, “Wait. Talk to me. What are you going to do?”
The sound of locks clicking and clanking echoed through the basement. Emiko was left in the room with a storm of wicked thoughts brewing in her mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Webcam
“You like that, don't you, you little slut?” Ethan asked as he thrust into Emiko, savoring the feel of her pussy. He still couldn't believe he was fucking the woman of his dreams. He whispered, “It's amazing.”
The couple were having sex on a thin mattress in the main room of the basement, between Emiko's modified bedroom and the laundry machines. Sweat glistening on their bodies, the pair fucked in the doggystyle position – a classic. Of course, the sex was not consensual. The rape was also live-streamed on an adult webcam website through Ethan's laptop – and the audience was unaware of the crime.
As he stared at the webcam, Ethan smirked and said, “She likes it. She loves it. I know all of you love it, too. I'm back, baby!”
Ethan only wore a black mask with holes on his eyes and mouth. The rest of his muscular figure was presented for the world to see. His face was covered, so he figured he was anonymous.
Against her will, Emiko was given a new outfit for the adult show. She wore a cupless halter bra, revealing her perky breasts, and a crotchless g-string. Her head was covered with a black hood, which also featured a padded blindfold. There was a hole for her mouth, but her mouth was muffled with a large red ball gag. She was handcuffed at the wrists and ankles, too.
As Ethan violently thrust into her, fucking her as if he had something to prove, Emiko whimpered. She could not speak or scream, she could only cry. The audience couldn't see her tears, though, and her whimpers sounded like moans of pleasure due to the gag. He was not penetrating her too deeply, he was packing four-inches after all, but the sex was still painful.
The blisters around her va
gina were aggravated with each thrust. Rape was always painful, too.
Emiko wheezed and grunted, struggling to breathe through the mask and gag. Her stomach turned, her heart shattered, and her mind crumbled. She couldn't think clearly. She felt as if her body were invaded by a foreign object. Sex was supposed to be natural, a part of human nature, but it felt surreal to her.
She slumped her head down, planting her forehead on the mattress. She felt numb from head-to-toe – a tingling sensation across her entire body. She could only count the seconds until her captor finished, but each dreadful second felt like a minute. She couldn't whisk herself away from the rape, either.
The racket in the room always brought her back – grunting, moaning, clanking. The clanking sound came from the laptop. It was the sound of coins clashing against each other, like the sound of someone winning at a slot machine. The sound emerged each time the audience donated tokens to the couple.
After the show, the tokens could be exchanged for money on the website – one token equaled five cents, and every penny counted. The audience did not approve of rape – most of them didn't, at least. They believed they were watching a sadomasochistic show. They thought it was consensual.
Emiko knew about the audience and the tokens, too. Ethan told her about the website and his plans before setting up the show. The fact made her feel helpless. The world was watching, but no one was helping her. Abandonment was difficult to accept.
Without stopping, Ethan leaned forward and whispered, “Wanna try a different position or are you close to cumming?”
Emiko cried upon hearing the question. The answer was obviously 'no,' but her words were incomprehensible. She couldn't refuse. Saliva dripped from her mouth and mucus soaked her mask as she hysterically sobbed. She could barely breathe, too.
Ethan grabbed her waist, then he flipped her onto her back. He placed his hand around Emiko's neck as she tried to wiggle off of the mattress – he wasn't going to let her escape. He pulled her down to the center of the mattress, then he leaned closer to her ear.