A Rebel Captive (3 page)

Olivia watched the woman shake her head and take the peeler right out of a soldier’s hand to demonstrate why he was doing it all wrong. Cole stepped closer to her, trapping her against his body.  She let out a soft whimper and tried to step away, but his arms circled around her, keeping her in place.  He put his hand on her stomach and gently turned her while pointing to the men standing guard on top of the fort wall and at each entrance on the grounds below. 

“There will always be men on duty at these points so don’t try anything foolish, Olivia.  They’ll catch you before you can get ten feet and you wouldn’t like that.  Trust me.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of a guard’s rifle and started to tremble.  He held her closer to him, growing hard at the feel of her shiver in his arms. 

Mrs. Wellings came back. “Don’t worry, my Lord, she’s in good hands.” The older woman winked at Olivia and she felt the urge to spit on the old woman, but refrained. 

Cole released her. “I expect a full report when I get back and I expect it to be a good one.” He looked at Olivia sternly before leaning down and kissing her on the forehead. 

He left her standing there.  The unexpectedness and the intimacy of his kiss momentarily stunned her and she didn’t notice as Mrs. Wellings started to pull her toward the garden.  The woman chatted with her one-sidedly.  After a few moments, Olivia had enough composure to look around and take in the state of the garden, it really was a mess.  It snapped her back to attention. 

“…by myself afraid.  I’ve not been able to keep up.” Olivia burst into tears.  “Oh, honey,” Mrs. Wellings cooed and went to rub her shoulder, but Olivia jerked away from the woman’s touch.

“How can you be a part of this?” Olivia spat. “Do you have any idea what they’re doing to innocent women?  You people disgust me.” She sunk to her knees.

Mrs. Wellings sighed. “Oh dear.  Yes, I know what they’re doing and I don’t agree with it one bit, but it’s a tradition of war.  There’re many aspects of war that I don’t agree with, but I have no control over the actions of the Republic.  They’ve been good to me and given me a good place.  So I go about my business, try to keep my job, and feed my family as best I can.” Olivia tried to get a handle on her tears, but couldn’t. “And I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but you’re so much luckier than the rest.  Lord Landon is a decent, kind man.”

Fresh tears poured down Olivia’s cheeks.  Mrs. Wellings stood there a moment longer before patting her on the head and leaving her alone to cry in the middle of the garden.  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, maybe minutes, maybe hours.  After a while she managed to control the tears; she wiped her face and looked around the garden again.  It really was in a sorry state, so over grown, in dire need of weeding.  She got up, wiped her runny nose on her sleeve, walked to the nearest row of plants, and started pulling up weeds.  It felt good to rip the weeds out, to have control and power.  She worked fiercely and without stop.  She felt her arms start to burn and her legs cramp, but she kept going.  In little time, she had a respectable pile of debris piled up behind her.  Mrs. Wellings came back with buckets. 

“Let me show you where the compost bins are.” 

Olivia followed the woman past the soldier standing at attention in the nearest entry way.  He followed them through to the small space on the other side.  The area was obviously built as an afterthought; the outer wall was much shorter than the main fort walls, maybe ten feet high.  A large wooden cabinet for compost sat against the wall.  The guard helped her lift the lid as the cabinet was nearly as tall as she was.  Olivia dumped her buckets and hesitantly turned to the soldier. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. 

“No problem, let’s get you back to the garden,” the soldier said, leading her away. 

She glanced back, wondering what was on the other side of the wall; she bet she could see over it if she was on top of the cabinet.  Olivia worked tirelessly for the rest of her time in the garden, only taking a break when Mrs. Wellings brought her a glass of water.  The woman also brought a tray of food, but Olivia left it untouched.  She only felt put together, like she wouldn’t break down in a crying mess, if she kept working and so she did.

She made a few more trips to the compost bins, always accompanied by the guard and always wondering what was on the other side of the wall.  At some point, she looked up and saw Cole enter the courtyard and smile at her.  Mrs. Wellings saw him too and abandoned her station in the outdoor kitchen to go to him.  They talked briefly, but his eyes were glued to Olivia.  She swallowed hard, uncomfortable under his scrutiny and worried Mrs. Wellings was telling him about her outburst.  His face gave away no emotion, no reaction.  He patted Mrs. Wellings on the shoulder and gave her a thank you before walking over to Olivia.  Mrs. Wellings turned and winked at Olivia before turning back to her kitchen, this time Olivia didn’t want to spit on the old woman.

“Did you enjoy your day in the garden?”  He smiled at the smear of dirt on her cheek. 

“Yes.” She nodded. 

“Yes, what?” he demanded. 

She stared at him a moment, puzzled, but then responded. “Yes…my lord.” 

He smiled again, extending his hand to her.  “Good girl, let’s go.  Thank you, Mrs. Wellings,” he waved to the woman. 

They walked back into the fort and Olivia immediately felt her chest constrict.  She looked back out into the courtyard longingly, but the view quickly disappeared from sight as he pulled her through the many hallways.  Cole stopped them in front of a door that was definitely not his bedroom. 

“We have to make a quick stop.  You will do everything I say or there will be very painful consequences.” He gave her a second to process what he said, taking the opportunity to rub his thumb along her cheek, wiping away the dirt.

He knocked on the door and a guard opened it, ushering them inside.  The general was seated at a large desk, reviewing some paperwork.  The girl he’d picked from the line up the day before was kneeling and naked at his feet.  Her lip was split, her right cheek had a nasty bruise, she was bound, gagged, and crying softly.  Olivia stopped dead in her tracks, she wanted to run out of the room, but Cole’s hand was at her back, pushing her along.  The general gestured for Cole to sit in the chair in front of the desk; he did and pulled Olivia down to a seated position on the floor next to him.  He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly.  She wondered if he meant it to be comforting or a warning.  The general leafed through some papers for a moment before stuffing them in a folder.

“Here’s the paperwork I need you to review, I expect your opinion on them tomorrow.” He handed Cole the folder and turned to look Olivia over.  “Not the slightest bit broken in yet is she?  You’re soft on your slave, Cole.  Wouldn’t want the men to think you’re weak.”

She stiffened at his words, looking at the poor girl, shivering on the floor.  Olivia swayed slightly, suddenly feeling as though she was going to be sick.  His grip tightened unconsciously on her shoulder. 

“I’m taking my time with her; I’m not a fan of weeping, broken, messes.  And if the men have a problem with that they can talk to me about it and I’ll show them just how weak I am.”  

He stood stiffly.  “Up,” he barked at her and stormed out of the room, dragging her out by the arm. 

He was hurting her and walking too quickly, she tripped, almost falling over, and yanked out of his hold. 

“You’re hurting me,” she yelled at him. 

Her outburst caught both of them off guard. His face darkened and he shoved her against the wall.  She yelped and tried to get away from him, but he grabbed her by the throat and threw her back against the wall.  Cole pressed his body against hers and leaned his face in so close she could feel his breath against her lips. 

“Don’t think that just because I haven’t beaten you into a sniveling pulp means I won’t.” He stood there, crowding her; she squirmed against him, panicked by his closeness. 

Her struggling caused him to harden and he squeezed her throat just a little more.  Her eyes widened and she tried to claw at his hand. 

“Drop your hands,” he growled. 

She did as she was told and he loosened his grip on her throat.  She sucked in a breath and just stared at him.  His eyes were burning, but she wasn’t sure if they burned in anger or arousal, his hardness was pressing against her stomach. 

“You will obey me or you can join your little friend on the floor.  Got that?”  She nodded and his grip tightened on her throat again, his eyes told her she made a mistake. 

“Yes, my lord.”

He released her and stepped away.  He took her hand, pulling her after him down the hallway.  She took the time to steady her breathing and her pounding heart.  Once they were back in his room, he left her in the middle of the living room and went to his desk. 

“Go take a shower; I’ll have dinner waiting when you’re done.” 

She stood there.  He sat down and started rifling through some papers.  Cole looked up at her, giving her a look that gave no room for argument.  She went to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Leave the door open,” he barked. 

The water felt refreshing, she watched the dirt wash away and wondered if she could stay in there forever.  She took her time washing her hair, shaving her legs, and generally letting the steaming hot water beat down on her.  The privacy was calming, but the hot water was short lived. 

She turned the water off and toweled dry.  Looking for her clothes, Olivia realized he’d come in at some point and taken them.  She panicked, clutching the towel around her.  For a few minutes she stood there, not sure what to do, but she started to get cold and thought that maybe he’d put new clothes on the bed for her so she hesitantly went to the door and stepped out.  He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, watching her.  She froze, wanting to escape back into the bathroom. 

When he started moving toward her she stepped backwards, her back bumped into the wall and she whimpered.  He stopped right in front of her, she could feel the heat radiating from his body and she clutched the towel tighter.  He had something in his hand, bands of some sort.  Bending down, he ran his fingers along one of her legs, she wanted to move away, but had nowhere to go.  Cole wrapped his hand around one ankle, snapping a band in place.  He moved his hand to her other thigh, gently playing down her legs and enjoying her soft skin.  She squirmed, but he ignored it. 

The other band wrapped around her ankle and he brought both her legs together, tapping one of the bands.  Suddenly, her legs snapped together and she almost lost her balance.  She yelped and grabbed on to him to steady herself while still trying to hold onto her towel.  He chuckled, tapping the band again, unbinding her feet.  He stood up slowly letting both his hand travel up her legs, she started whimpering and squirming again as his fingers moved up to her thighs.  Her skin burned where he touched her, Olivia’s heart started to hammer against her chest and she squirmed even more.  

“Please stop,” she begged.

He removed his hands from her legs, but took one of her wrists instead.  She made a small sound of protest and tried to pull away, but he held onto her tightly.  He snapped a band around her wrist and grabbed her other arm.  She quickly gathered up her towel with her free hand, desperate to keep herself covered.  He snapped the last band on her wrist. The bands were soft against her skin, but sturdy.  She’d never seen the material before.  Once they were around her appendages they seemed to form a solid cuff, she couldn’t see a seam or any sort of locking or unlocking mechanism for that matter.  While still holding one hand, he reached for her other. 

“No,” she begged, but he pulled her hand away and with it her towel dropped to the floor. 

He brought her wrists together and tapped one of the bands; her wrists were suddenly locked together.  She turned her head away and shut her eyes, a blush covering her entire body.  Tears welled behind her eyelids.  He lifted her arms above her head and tapped the wall.  Her wrists were locked in place and she shot her head up to see how it was possible.  There was no explanation; she was secured to the wall, but without shackles, without chains.  She struggled against her bonds, but it was in vain.

“Look at me,” Cole commanded. 

She did for a second, but when his eyes dropped to explore her now naked body she shut them, overcome with embarrassment and fear.  

“Tsk, tsk.  I told you too look at me,”  he said,  pinching one of her nipples, she yelped and tried to wiggle away from him, but that just made it all the more painful. 

“Close your eyes again and I’ll do more than pinch you, now, look at me.”

He released her nipple.  He stared into her eyes before returning to look over her body.  He ran his fingers down her arms, tickling her with the barest touch.  He continued down to her collarbone and then gently cupped her breasts. 

“Please stop,” she begged, but could see hunger in his eyes. 

Cole spread his hand across her stomach, his fingers were long, thick, and strong, they circled her waist just as he dipped his head to lick across her breast.  She gasped and started begging again for him to stop, tears streamed down her face.  He took a nipple in his mouth and flicked his tongue across the tip.  It felt like an electric current being shot from her breast to her pussy.  She could feel herself getting wet and she groaned in horror.