by West, Sinden
Finally, the bolt slid back and he stood in the doorway.
“Bathroom?” I asked. He nodded and moved out of the way. But just like before, he watched as I peed. After that, he took me downstairs and indicated that I was to kneel on the floor again. I obeyed without question, and eventually the remainder of his dinner was placed in front of me. Once again, like a slave, I got to eat the leftovers with my hands.
He watched as I cleaned the kitchen, staying mercifully silent. I scrubbed the countertop slowly, dreading the thought of being locked in the bedroom or whatever else he might have in store for me.
“I think that it’s clean enough, now,” he said, smirking, his hand held out for me. When I hesitated, he impatiently grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him. “C’mon, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Chapter Seven
I didn’t realize how cold I’d been until I was led into the living room that was warmed by a fire. Faded floral wallpaper lined the walls, and the carpet was a threadbare green. A couch and armchairs had seen better days as well. They were also green, and whom ever had chosen them must have thought that different tones of green went well together.
I smiled in spite of myself; it was surreal that I was thinking about bad decorating when I should have been pissing myself in fear. Again. When I noticed that he was looking at me, my smile dropped.
“What was that for?” He was almost accusing and I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be happy. I was supposed to be terrified, miserable and dehumanized.
I hugged myself. “It’s just that it’s warm in here. I was cold before.” I didn’t look at him but felt his eyes on me anyway.
“Go stand in front of the fire.”
He sat in one of the armchairs while I did what he said. I didn’t think his order was one of kindness because I felt more on display than before as I stood there, lit by the fire and awaiting his next demand. He took a book from the side table and tossed it to me. I caught it easily.
“Open it.”
It was a black leather diary with gold edging. It felt heavy and expensive in my hands. A yellow Post-It note stuck out the top, and I opened it to that page. A date was written at the top in a careful script.
“See, Rachel, this is reading time. Read me the entry.”
The psycho lounged in the armchair; feet up on a stool and casual like we were somewhere else. I took a breath and scanned the words quickly. Something inside me began to twist, cold and unsettling. My eyes widened slightly as my heart began to thump. I thought about throwing the book down and running out of the room, but that noose memory wasn’t going anywhere fast. I began to read, doing my utmost to make sure that my voice came out smooth and strong, betraying nothing of the tremors inside me.
“Today, I feel like my life is renewed, spring has arrived in the form of Hannah. Her hair is yellow like the spring daffodils and her eyes green like new shoots. I know I sound like a romantic fool, but this one meeting has given me a sense of hope. It’s like all those bad things can be put to rest now and I get to start anew.
I was sitting in Harriett’s Café, drinking my coffee and reading the newspaper, when she came up to me. She’d been crying; her eyes were red-rimmed but she looked beautiful anyway. She’s not one of those women whose nose goes red, and eyes puffy when they sob. No, distress and pain looked beautiful on her.
She’d had her wallet stolen, and she was asking for a few dollars for bus fare to make it home. I told her to sit down, and I’d buy her a coffee to calm herself down. She gave me a shy smile and thanked me.
‘Hannah,’ she introduced herself, holding out a hand, and then she motioned to a girl sitting by the counter to come over. The girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen, and she was the spitting image of her mother. Her name is Rachel, and she is shy and demure, not like those wild, rude teenagers that you meet now days. I bought us all drinks and cake, and I must admit, Hannah is the most charming woman I’ve met in a long time. So much so, that I offered them a lift home. They live in one of the poorer neighborhoods, and the house is pretty modest. Hannah told me it was a rental, and that she’d left an abusive husband, and that’s why they were hiding out here until she could get a divorce and get her fair share of the house sale.
I gave her a polite kiss goodbye on the cheek, itching to ask for her phone number but somehow I stopped myself. I knew getting involved with her would bring a world of trouble. Besides, my lawyers had told me I probably wouldn’t be so lucky if there were a next time. She asked me in for a drink, but I said no. The look on her face was of disappointment, and that expression is what I keep seeing every time I close my eyes and try to sleep. I might swing by tomorrow, though, maybe just to keep an eye on them. Who knows what kind of asshole her ex is. Hannah is so sweet; she probably couldn’t fight off a fly.”
The entry ended, and I had no desire to turn the page and read anymore. I lifted my eyes to meet the dark, wolf-like ones of the psycho.
“You figured out why you’re here now?”
I swallowed. “No, I don’t know what any of this has to do with me. Please just let me go. You think I’m this Rachel girl? I’m not, I’m Paige. Just Paige.”
He smiled slightly. “You’re a liar, Rachel.”
“Paige. My name is Paige! I haven’t done anything wrong.” I hurled that book at him with all my might; he caught it easily and placed it on the small table beside him. “I don’t want to be here. I want my clothes. I want to go home!” Those fear inspired words rushed out of me as I trembled, adrenalin causing a spike of warmth to go through me and I nearly forgot that I was naked. I stood there after my outburst, breathing heavily and watching him as closely as he watched me. When he finally made a movement, I spurred into action and sprinted for the doorway, and down the hall, finally until the front door rose up in front of me. I twisted the door knob, pounded on it and screamed. It was all futile. I knew that. That door was locked tight. I should have headed to the back of the house; there must have been another door there. But I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to try it. I slammed my fists into the wood and let out another howl of rage and desperation, until finally I collapsed against it, resting my head on my forearms as I cried.
I knew he was behind me, waiting and watching. Eventually, I turned to face him. He leaned casually against the wall.
“Please don’t put me in the barn again,” my voice managed to rasp out. I shook my head. “Please don’t.”
He straightened, and made a motion with his head, indicating to the stairs that led up to my bedroom/cell. I darted up the stairs and headed into the room, crawling under the blankets, happy to be covered while my heart thumped as the stairs creaked as he climbed them. I couldn’t stand to look at him. Instead, I just looked at that awful pattern on the blanket. He grabbed an arm and fastened it above my head just like last night, then followed suit with the other one. Before he left, he drew the blanket up to cover me before switching off the light and bolting the door.
In the darkness, unsettling memories came bolting back to me, and fresh tears erupted. What was I going to do? At least I had more information now, and reasons why this was happening.
What would my mother do? I loved and loathed her equally, but the only thing I respected about her was her talent. She was a fantastic actress and reader of people. She could change her personality in an instant to suit whoever she was going after. She was a master manipulator. No doubt she would try and seduce this crazy psycho or something similar to get him so charmed that he fell under her spell.
But I wasn’t my mother.
Chapter Eight
The next night I refused to read the diary entry. Defiance is difficult when you’re the only naked one in the room. I dropped the diary to the ground where it landed face down on the green carpet. I was too scared to look at him, so I just stared at my feet.
“No,” I repeated. “I’m not going to read that.” My voice betrayed me by shaking. “I’m not going to play your stupid, poin
tless games.” I hugged myself as he laughed.
“Oh, Rachel. I haven’t even begun to play games. I’m in a generous mood though. I’ll give you another chance. Pick up the book and read the marked page.” His voice was soft, nearly gentle. As I looked at the book, I thought about how easy it would be just to pick it up and open it to where the yellow Post-It indicated. My fingers moved of their own accord, fear driving them in slight twitches to do what he said.
But my bitchy will made a stand.
I raised my head to look him firmly in the eye. “No.”
I shivered at the coldness I saw in his face, the loathing and hostility spearing through me. I made to run again but before I got maybe two feet in distance, a strong hand wrapped around my ankle and pulled. I was momentarily airborne before landing with a thud against the floor; the firm grip dragged me backwards with the carpet burning against my breasts. Then the grip was in my hair and the pain made my eyes water as I was raised up and turned to look at him.
We were both on our knees now, with no give in the hand gripping my hair that caused a fire-like sensation to dart through my scalp. His other hand reached up, and I recoiled in fear as much as I could move. But there was no stopping him. The hand stroked softly down my face in a gesture that could have been construed as caring in any one else.
But I whimpered at his touch as his fingers brushed over my cheekbone and down to my chin. And there the hand stopped. It gripped, still softly, my chin, forcing me to look up to meet him in the eyes. I did not like what I saw there.
“I’ve been very kind to you so far, Rachel. Far kinder than you deserve. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but now I see that you need a firm hand. Am I right?”
I didn’t answer, breathing heavily and heart beating so loud it nearly drowned out his voice. He didn’t expect one anyway. With speed, I was pushed face down onto the couch, and my hands pulled behind my back. I felt the familiar cable ties draw tightly around my wrists. Then I was pulled up, causing my arms to stretch painfully in the unnatural position. A whimper escaped me, and then I firmly shut my mouth. I wouldn’t appear weak any longer. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I tried to prepare myself mentally for what would come next as he pulled me along until we were outside, and the cool air hit my naked skin. He spoke not a word; his actions calm like what he did evoked no feeling within him. I tried to steel myself at the thought of the noose back around my neck as we headed to the barn. But when we went inside, he led me instead to one of the posts that held up the structure. Something cut through the cable ties, releasing my hands from their painful position. But just as quickly they were pulled in front of me on either side of the post, and I was pulled tight against it. Splinters from the rough wood pressed into my breasts, and I was held tight, my hands were bound on the other side. Then he stood behind me. That was even worse, not being able to see what he was doing. I jumped in fear as I felt his warm hands start to rub against my ass. I shook my head from side to side but kept silent. The hands kept rubbing, but delved to no other areas other than my ass cheeks.
I jumped again when he started to speak, his smooth voice floating behind me in this surreal-like situation. “There’s no shame in screaming, Rachel. The beauty of being as isolated as we are out here is that no one can hear you. So you can scream all you like. I won’t punish you anymore for it.” The rubbing on my ass stopped, and his hands moved away. “You’re lucky. My old man use to punish me something fierce for screaming when he did this to me. But I got rescued in the end. I don’t think anyone will be rescuing you.”
I heard a whoosh noise before something hard slammed into my ass. Fire raged through me, and I barely recognized the scream that tore out. I managed to take a breath before he hit me once more. My scream was even louder this time, and it barely ceased before another was ripped from me. I screamed for each one until he was finished. My ass and throat were both raw, and all I could do was hug against the post and whimper as tears streamed down my face. I sensed him move in front of me, but I couldn’t lift my head to look. My hands were loosened slightly, allowing me to sink to the bottom of the pole in exhaustion and numbness, except for the fire wreaking havoc on my bottom of course. I knelt there, trying to position myself in the best way to reduce any added pain. I passed out eventually though. It was bliss.
I woke up in the bedroom he’d imprisoned me in. I lay on my stomach in the bed, consciousness had let the pain back in, and I let out a gasp. Then I felt his hands rub gently in circular motions against my bottom, and I hissed in both pain and surprise. I hadn’t known he was there.
“Shh. This cream will make it feel better.”
I stayed silent, mortified and humiliated at being touched like this by him. I barely dared breathe as he continued his work.
“I didn’t break the skin. I was careful. Canes can be horrific things if you let them.” His voice was calm, like he was talking about the weather instead of my torture. I took a shaky breath.
“It felt horrific enough to me,” I dared to say, nervously awaiting his answer.
“I know, but it was necessary.” His hands continued to rub the cream in. I bit my lip before deciding to speak again.
“I don’t deserve this. I’m not her.” I sunk my teeth into my lip again to stop my shaking. He stayed silent for such a long while that I thought he was going to ignore the comment.
Then he sighed. “Rachel, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I twisted my head to look at him. “You’re the one making this hard. I’m not her.”
I shivered under his gaze, but he looked away first as he started to screw the top back on the cream. “You should get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
I shook my head.
He got to his feet. “There’s water beside the bed if you need it, and painkillers. I won’t tie you to the bed. God knows; you’re in no state to run.”
He moved to the door.
“Wait!”
He paused and turned toward me.
“What do I call you? What’s your name?”
He frowned slightly. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I just want to call you something.” Other than psycho or crazy. “It would make you seem more human.”
He stared hard at me for a few seconds before replying. “Aaron.” Aaron.
“Goodnight, Aaron.”
He shut the door and bolted it behind him.
Aaron
Chapter Nine
I took the pain killers. He’d only left two. Not enough to kill myself with if I had the desire. I threw them in my mouth, even though I didn’t know what they were or how hard they’d hit me. At this stage, anything that stole consciousness from me would be welcome. Then I settled on my stomach and rested my head on my arms. The blanket was too much on my sore skin, and I arranged it in a loop so my back and legs were covered while my bottom was bare to the air.
I stared at the door, wondering what Aaron was doing at that moment. Was he in a calm, guilt free sleep? Or did he lie awake in his bed, staring into the dark as turmoil washed through him? It was probably the former.
And then I thought of Finn. Was he pining for me, or was he letting Melody suck his cock while he stared at the poster of Heidi Klum on his ceiling? Thoughts of Melody with cum in her hair pleased me, or maybe she swallowed it down in her efforts to become the perfect replacement girlfriend since my disappearance.
Then I mentally slapped myself for thinking of such stupid and superficial things when I was stuck in this serious nightmare. This Aaron had shown a human side to himself tonight, some compassion that conflicted with the crazy, caning psycho.
Mom always said that compassion was akin to weakness. Maybe I had a chance after all.
My sleep that night was plagued with nightmares that made me toss and turn. When I’d roll onto my back, pain would wake me and send me scurrying back to lie on my stomach. This repeated th
roughout the night, until conditioning forced me to stay put in my sleep. I woke up to find Aaron standing over me.
“It’s nearly noon.”
I rubbed my eyes then winced in pain. “I need to pee.”
I struggled out of bed; he made no move to help me and stood there watching me. I limped past him and into the bathroom. He was right last night; I couldn’t run in this state. If I did get a chance to escape, I would need to wait until my body healed, if he gave me the opportunity for either. A toothbrush and toothpaste sat on the sink. I picked up the toothbrush; it looked new, not that I would have cared at this stage. I scrubbed at my mouth until my gums bled, relishing in having clean teeth again.
“Can I take a shower?” I watched his reflection in the mirror, and he gave a slight nod of his head. I turned on the tarnished faucets and waited for the water to warm. Then I stepped over the side of the bath and under the warm spray. It was heaven, until I turned, and the water stung at my rear with viciousness. I screeched and scrambled to distance myself, slipping and falling onto my hands and knees in the process. I finally made it out of the bath, grabbing at the threadbare towel and scrubbing at my skin as fresh tears made their way silently down my face.
I went to wrap it around myself but stopped as he barked, “No.” I sullenly shoved the towel back on the rail before folding my arms around myself and staring at the ground. His black boots appeared in my line of vision, but I didn’t raise my eyes.
Not until I smelt leather, and suddenly something was being wrapped around my neck. I jerked in surprise, my fingers going to my neck and eyes wide.
“Relax, baby. It’s not another noose. It’s just something to remind you of your place here.”