CapturedbytheSS (25 page)

“Come on. It’s late,” my captor declares, pulling me off the
floor. He turns off the lights in the living room before leading me upstairs.

Once we’re in his bedroom, he locks the leash to my anklet.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he states.

He leaves the room. I hear his heavy footfalls going down
the stairs. He’s doing something in the kitchen, but I’m not sure what. I hear
him on the stairs. When he returns, he’s holding a saucer with a coffee cup on
it.

“I want you to drink this. It’s some hot cocoa mixed with a
mild sedative.”

“A sedative? You want to drug me?”

“I want you to sleep, and I don’t want you to dream or
remember anything.”

I hesitate.

“I can easily inject you with something,” he declares. “But
this particular drug is better and it’s meant to be ingested.”

A bit reluctantly, I take the cocoa and drink it. It’s
actually quite good. If he hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t know it was laced with
something.

After setting the empty cup down on the nightstand, I only
sit and watch him get undressed. With a low groan, he slips under the covers.
He takes me in his arms, and I press my face against his chest.

“What did you two mean about how I was trained?”

He sighs at the question. “It’s difficult to explain to you,
American, because you don’t remember it.”

“Yes, I do. I remember the films and lectures and videos.”

“That was only a part of it, the part they wanted you to
remember.”

“What else was there?” I whisper.

He holds me tighter. “Don’t think about it.”

“But…what did your friend mean about it being barbaric?”

“Shh, don’t talk.”

“Please don’t do this to me. Just tell me.”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Yes, I do,” I insist. I try to pull away, but he won’t
release me. His nimble fingers brush though my hair. His gentle petting,
combined with the sedative, is slowly pushing away consciousness.

“What did they do to me?” I whisper.

“They trained you to be a spy. Now stop thinking about it. I
don’t want you to remember anything. I do wish my friend hadn’t commented on
how the practice is barbaric, but he’s more of a military man, straight and to
the point.”

Despite my best efforts to stay awake, I feel the world
slipping away.

“Just go to sleep,” my captor whispers.

* * * * *

When I wake up, my heart is racing and I’m covered with
sweat. It’s still dark. My captor is holding me against his chest. The dream
lingers as I gingerly untangle myself from his arms. I can tell by his
breathing that he’s deep asleep. My leash quietly drags against the hardwood
floor as I hurry to the bathroom. Tears spill from my eyes as I quickly close
the door. I don’t turn on the light, not wanting to rouse my captor.

I kneel on the floor and cry quietly in the dark. I just
need a few moments to recover. I feel I’m finally coming to terms with
something I’ve tried hard to either ignore or deny. I press my forehead against
the tub’s edge, welcoming the cool feel of the porcelain. I jump when the door
opens. The light comes on a half-second later.

He’s wearing his tan robe. He looks sleepy and confused. “I
thought I heard you crying. What’s wrong?” he demands.

“It’s nothing,” I mutter, mopping away my tears. I look away
from him and instead study the bathtub.

He laughs softly as he walks across the bathroom. He settles
on the tub’s edge. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to accept that response
as a valid answer, do you?” He sounds more alert and awake.

I say nothing and instead study the tub.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Silence. My eyes shift to the floor.

“Do we have to do this with the needle?” he demands.

“No,” I mutter. I’m not afraid. I just know there’s no point
in withholding information.

His fingers slide under my chin and turn my face up to him.
I reluctantly meet his eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I…I just had a nightmare…and something I kinda forgot came
up in the dream.”

He looks anxious and concerned. He curses softly in German.
“What do you remember?”

“I don’t really know where to start.”

“Take your time. Start at the beginning.”

Shivering, I wrap my arms tightly around myself. “A few days
after my eighteenth birthday, I went to the recruitment office and signed the
papers stating I wanted to serve in the military.”

My captor only nods as if he already knew that.

“The next day, they called me and told me to report to a
base in Virginia. They said I’d been selected for intelligence.”

Again, my captor only nods.

“Almost from day one, I quickly found out that my superiors
and instructors didn’t like something about me.”

My voice wavers ever so slightly, and I study the floor. He
doesn’t say anything.

“A couple of days after I arrived at the base, I walked into
one of my classrooms for a scheduled lesson. I was early. Two of my instructors
were talking, but they immediately stopped when I walked in the room. One of
them even shushed the other, and I knew at the time that they were talking
about me.”

My fingers lightly pluck at the hem of my shirt. “Before
they stopped talking, I overheard one of them say, ‘Well, they obviously
botched her surgery.’ And you asked me if I remembered having a surgical
procedure or a place that looked like a hospital and…there were the bloody
tears and the migraines, and your friend said that the practice was barbaric…”

My eyes dart to his face. I can tell he understands what I’m
saying.
“What did they do to me?”

My fingers drift to the side of my head and press against my
scalp. I shudder when I touch the scar hidden in my thick hair. My mother told
me I fell one day when I was a kid, which is how I supposedly got the scar, but
I never quite believed that explanation.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “If I tell you the details, it’s
just going to create more nightmares. And quite frankly, I don’t like finding
you crying alone in the dark.”

“Please… I need to know.”

“No, you don’t,” he insists.

I start to protest, but he only shakes his head at me. “No.”

I wilt.

“But I will tell you this. The purpose was to make you more
obedient and more pliable in the hands of your superiors. It was also supposed
to make your rigorous training easier for you to accept. In all honesty, I
think something did go wrong with your procedure because your personality is
very different from what I’ve seen.”

“Then why didn’t they dismiss me or send me home?”

“Dismiss you? American, you were able to break into a highly
secure military building, locate top-secret documents, and then you memorized
several pages of material. I actually went to the Echelon and located the files
you found. It was over eighty pages of documents you memorized word for word.

“Training can only go so far, American. They chose you
specifically for your intelligence and memorization skills. They’re not going
to just dismiss you.”

“But…but the surgery, didn’t they do something to heighten
my memory or improve my intelligence?”

“No,” he says simply. “The surgery was done to alter your
personality so you wouldn’t question orders…at least, that’s what it was
supposed to do.”

“But there are laws in my country. They had no right to do
that or…” My body shakes as I start sobbing. I cover my face with my hands, not
wanting my captor to see me like this.

When I was in school, one of the documents I had to memorize
was the Declaration of Independence, and I distinctly remember the line about
Life,
Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
But it wasn’t just a line in the
Declaration of Independence. To me, it was more of a philosophy that seemed to
shape most of the laws in my country. Somehow, being drafted as a child and
surgically altered to fit a preconceived personality seems a bit antithetical
to that principle.

His hand settles gently on my shoulder. “Yes, there are laws
in your country, but rules for draftees are different. You were chosen to
defend and protect the rights of your country for your fellow citizens. You
were selected to serve the greater good. Your test scores placed you under
military jurisdiction, exempt from criminal and civil laws, which is one of the
many reasons why your parents were paid so generously.”

“But why?” I whisper, looking up at him.

“Because it’s still a war.”

Pointless tears continue to fall. My captor sighs.

“American, it’s not in my nature to bargain, but I’m willing
to make a deal with you.”

A bit confused, I look up at him. I’m still sobbing.

“If you
try
to stop crying and come back to bed with
me, I’ll take my time kissing and licking the back of your neck.”

I can’t help but smile a little at his offer, even though
I’m still crying. He knows I like that.

“Hmm. That’s almost a smile.” He grabs a washcloth and then
wets it under the tub’s facet. After wringing it out, he hands me the damp
cloth. “Here, rinse off your face first. You’ll feel better.”

Still sniffling, I wipe my face with the cool, wet cloth.
Once I’m finished, he takes the washcloth before setting it on the tub’s edge.
He takes a hold of my arm and helps me to my feet. As he pulls me back to his
bed, I continue to sniffle a bit. Logically, I know there’s little point in
dwelling on the subject. I can’t do anything to change the past.

He lifts up the plush bedding. “Come on,” he orders,
obviously wanting me to get back in bed.

I slip under the covers and scoot across the mattress. Feeling
a bit dazed, I lie on my back and study the ceiling.

He slips in bed next to me. “Roll over on your belly.”

Still sniffling, I roll over and bury my face in the pillow.

He brushes aside my hair. “Shh, it’s all right,” he
whispers. For some reason, my breath keeps hitching, despite my best efforts to
make it stop. I think the sound is upsetting him.

“Shh, calm down.”

“I thought you liked to see me cry,” I challenge, feeling
angry at the whole damn world right now.

His firm lips press against the back of my neck, and I
shudder from the sensation.

“Not like this. Your crying during sex is different, and you
know it.”

I sniffle as he plants soft kisses up and down the nape of
my neck. True to his word, he does indeed take his time. After several minutes,
my breath finally stops catching.

“How do you feel now?” he whispers. His words flutter across
my flesh.

“Safe,” I admit. A brief wave of panic courses through me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

“Good.” His tongue draws a line from the top of my spine to
the edge of my hair. “You are safe.”

His gentle kissing and licking causes wetness to pool
between my thighs. His hand slides under me and cups my mound. Nimble fingers
gently caress my nub, coaxing me to orgasm. I cry out softly as his skilled
fingers massage my clit. He doesn’t drag out my release the way he usually
does. After several minutes, he gently propels me onto my back.

“Better?”

Actually, I do feel better. “Yes.”

His firm lips press against mine as his arousal prods at my
slit. He enters me slowly. He simply holds me against him, keeping himself
sheathed inside me. There’s only the sound of our breathing.

“Perhaps this was my fault,” he whispers. “Maybe I should
have talked to you about your training instead of telling you to not think
about it, but for the future, I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“If something is bothering you,
really
bothering you,
tell me, wake me. Don’t hide in the dark and cry alone like that. I don’t
ever
want to find you like that again.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“No, promise me.”

“I promise I won’t hide like that again if I’m upset.”

As if to reward me, he kisses my forehead. “Good girl.”

He holds me tighter as his cock glides in and out of me at a
quickened pace. He doesn’t drag out my release but instead stops just before my
orgasm turns painful. He reaches his own breaking point shortly after I do. He
collapses next to me and takes me in his arms.

I can feel myself drifting to sleep, and I bury my face
against his pec, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. He holds me
tight against his muscular body as if I’m the most valuable possession in the
entire world.

Chapter Nine

Sitting on the bed, I hear the front door close. I press
stop on the handheld game and wait for him to reach the bedroom. A few days ago,
he brought me this electronic device. I thought it would be a boring video
game, but it actually requires a lot of memorization to solve puzzles and
riddles. The game also adjusts for skill. It’s progressively getting more
difficult for me, but I like it. It keeps my mind occupied when I’m not working
out.

As he nears the bedroom, a ripple of genuine nervousness
courses through me. I’ve been his prisoner now for a couple of weeks, and the
only thing predictable about our relationship is the unpredictability.
Sometimes when he comes home, he ties me up, ravishes me and then fucks me into
unconsciousness. Other times, he slips under the covers next to me, takes me in
his arms and we simply cuddle for several hours before he feeds me dinner. And
sometimes still, he unlocks my leash, leads me to his office at the end of the
hall and has me kneel on the floor next to him while he quietly works at his
laptop.

Once, only once, he took me to his cellar. It’s basically a
home gym down there. He tied my wrists above my head to a piece of exercise
equipment and flogged me. But it wasn’t like the first time he did it. It was
more intense. I actually came in the middle of it, just from the flogging
alone. After I came and while he continued to flog me, he started asking me
questions and even though he didn’t drug me, I willingly answered everything,
not because he was hurting me or torturing the answers out of me but simply
because…I
needed
to tell him.