Taken and Kept (Reluctant BDSM)

Taken and Kept

Elaine Cara

Copyright 2013

Elaine Cara

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Any unauthorized distribution or reproduction
for sale is punishable by law.

All characters and events in this story are
fictional. Any similarity to real people or events is coincidental.
All characters involved in sexual activities are over the age of
eighteen.

My feet pounded the sidewalk. I had new
sneakers, new workout clothes. The first jog of spring always
revived me. After spending the winter on a treadmill, getting out
and breathing the fresh flowery air and feeling the sun beat down
on me was incredible. I felt invigorated, and maintained a speed I
couldn't on a machine.

My lungs burned and sweat poured down my
back. I ran down the block and turned the corner to the park. As I
jogged through the trees and grass, I noticed a big black truck
with tinted windows sitting in the gravel parking lot. I figured
the vehicle belonged to some necking teenagers, so I didn‘t think
twice.

As I ran past the truck on my way to the
paved path in the park, someone shouted at me. I turned around, and
noticed a man standing by the truck with the door open. When I
looked, he waved me over to him. I hesitated, my heart pounded, and
something in my stomach fluttered. I ignored the feelings and
walked over to him.

"Sorry to bother you," he said. He dressed
nice. He wore a blue button up shirt and tan slacks. He had a
silver watch on his wrist, and he smelled of spicy cologne.

He was handsome, one of the best looking men
I'd seen in a while. He had deep brown chocolate eyes, black hair
that fell over his full eyebrows, dimples, and straight white
teeth. I felt at ease just looking at him.

"That's okay," I sputtered. He made me
nervous, like all of a sudden I cared what a complete stranger
thought. I smoothed my brown hair back, and dabbed at the sweat on
my brow with my sweatshirt sleeve.

"I'm trying to find the Mabel Inn," he said.
"Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's on highway 4."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? I just came
from there and I didn’t see it."

He turned to the truck and pulled out a map.
He leaned up against the truck and looked at the paper.

"Think you can point it out on here?" he
asked, not looking up.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and sidled
up next to him. I was so close I thought he could hear my blood
surging through my veins.

I reached my hand out to point with my finger
when he grabbed my wrist.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice
shaking.

He pressed into my flesh, and something
caught the light near his waist. I looked down to see a gun. I
thought I would faint. Blood rushed to my head, and I got dizzy.
Stars floated into my vision, and my knees wobbled.

"Don't say anything," he growled. "Don't
scream. Don't make a scene. If you catch anyone's attention, I'll
kill you."

He shoved me into the truck. He pushed me
face down on the driver’s seat and cuffed my arms behind my back.
What the hell? Was he a cop? What the hell was he doing? It never
occurred to me that he kidnapped me. The idea was too absurd to
consider. My mind raced with stress and my entire body shook.

I scrambled into the passenger seat and he
came in after me. He shut the door, locked the doors, and started
the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot and headed for the
highway. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what he was doing, but
I hesitated. The guy was deranged and I didn't want to say anything
to make him snap.

We drove in silence until we pulled onto the
highway.

"What is this?" I asked. "I just want to know
what's going on."

"I'm taking you," he said, not taking his
eyes off the road. The question didn't faze him.

"Why?"

"Because you're vulnerable," he said.
"Trusting. Unaware."

I prickled. I squirmed as my arms fell
asleep. I hated the pins and needles. He looked at me out of the
corner of his eyes.

"Stop moving," he said. "You're breaking my
concentration."

"Sorry. My arms are numb."

"Just hang on. When we get where we're going
you won't have to sit on your hands."

I nodded though he didn't see me. The sun
rose higher in the sky, and I figured at least four hours had gone
by. How far was he going? I looked out the window and watched the
trees become sparse. The green grass turned to red dirt. Maybe he
was taking me out into the desert where he was going to shoot me
and leave me. Bury me where no one would ever find me.

Adrenaline had long since disappeared from my
system. There were only twinges of fear left in me. I'd never felt
more exhausted, drained. If I couldn't see the gun in his holster I
could fall asleep.

Soon, the sun began to set in the desert sky.
Streaks of red and purple snaked across the horizon. He pulled into
the parking lot of a dumpy looking motel. I cringed to think of the
bed bugs waiting in the sheets. Funny, the thoughts that went
through my mind at a time like that. I was kidnapped, he had a gun.
Who gave a fuck about bugs?

He got out of the truck, and disappeared into
the office. He came back with a room key jingling in his hand, and
pulled me out of the truck. He led me to number eight, unlocked the
door, and pulled me inside. My arms prickled as they woke up. He
locked the door, and hooked the chain. I noticed the room had only
one king sized bed. He expected me to sleep with him.

"Sit on the bed," he said, motioning.

I perched on the edge of the bed. He turned
the television on and sat next to me. We watched a fuzzy football
game. His presence turned my stomach into aching knots of tension.
I didn't know what to expect.

"You're quiet," he said, more as a
statement.

"What did you expect? That I would just
freely open my mouth to a guy who kidnapped me?"

"I don't know what I expected. Screaming,
yelling, begging."

"I have a life preserving instinct. Sorry to
disappoint you."

He laughed. Hearty, loud. The sound made me
cringe. "I'm not disappointed. Maybe pleasantly surprised."

"If it's all the same to you I'd rather not
talk."

"You'll talk if I want you to."

"Do you want me to?"

"Look, I didn't kidnap you so I could feel
just as alone as I did before."

"Wait, you kidnapped me so you could have
someone to talk to?"

He shook his head. "I was making a
point."

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"What's your name?"

"Heather."

"I'm Paul."

He held his hand out, and I just stared at
him. He glanced at the hand cuffs.

"Oh, right," he mumbled. He checked his
watch. "What kind of toppings do you like on pizza?"

"Sorry?"

"Pizza. Toppings."

"Get whatever you want."

He picked up the phone on the table next to
the TV. He dialed the number and as he listened to the line ring he
narrowed his eyes at me.

"Are you always this passive?" he asked.

I shook my head, and he spoke into the line
and ordered pizza. What, did he think I was trying to butter him up
so I could escape? The idea never occurred to me, but I wondered if
it would work. Maybe I could seduce him, get away when his guard
was down. As I formulated a plan, he hung up the phone and sat next
to me. The bed sagged under our weight.

"Why did you say you're lonely?" I asked.

He looked at me. His face was smooth, but
almost blank. Like he didn’t understand what I was saying.

"Because I am," he said.

"Why? You're handsome, and you seem charming
enough."

"You don't understand," he said. "I have
trust issues."

"But if you kidnap people you can't trust
them."

"I know. But I figure if I can't have it
either way, I might as well take by force. At least I know you're
not going to be nice to me to get what you want. You're not
trustworthy by default. I don't have to wonder whether you have
ulterior motives."

"That sounds paranoid," I said without
thinking. He winced, and I regretted my statement. Quit going back
on the plan, I told myself.

"Look, why don't you shut your mouth?" he
asked.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm just trying
to understand why this is happening to me."

"Don't. I just picked you, that's all."

I leaned closer to him. I damned my workout
clothes. They weren't revealing, so I didn't have any cleavage for
him to look down.

"Was there anything appealing? Anything that
caught your eye?"

He put his hand on my face. I could see the
wrinkles and lines on his palm. "No more talking. I know what
you're trying to do."

I closed my mouth, my teeth clicking. I knew
my plan wouldn't work, and maybe I sabotaged myself before I
started. Kept myself from trying hard enough. My heart just wasn't
in it. He scared me too much, made me uncomfortable. I wanted
nothing to do with him.

He checked his watch, and then stood. He
grabbed my arm and led me to the closet. He shoved me inside and
shut the door. I hunched in the dark. The smell of musty moth balls
hit my nose and I gagged.

There was a knock on the hotel room. The
pizza guy. I wanted to scream. But I knew I would just get myself
and some poor teenager killed. So I waited, and listened to the
delivery person leave. I heard the door shut, and Paul flip open
the box. I heard crunching and smacking as he ate. I heard the
football announcer's deep enthusiastic voice, and the occasional
static as the TV reception went in and out.

And I heard my heart pounding. I pulled my
knees to my chest and rested my head. I heard the mattress squeak
as he got off the bed. The door opened, and light poured in. I
looked up at him, and he looked down at me. He pulled me out of the
closet.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

As if on cue my stomach growled. He motioned
to the pizza box, where one slice was left. I wiggled my shoulders
up and down.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I can feed
you.”

"Please just let me out of these. If I run,
you can shoot me."

He took out his keys, and unlocked my cuffs.
I breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed my aching wrists.

"Thanks,” I said.

He nodded and I ate the slice. I hadn't eaten
all day, and the pizza was like heaven to me. It was a small
generosity he afforded me that I was grateful for. I rubbed my
wrists. He turned off the TV, and lay back in bed. He patted the
space next to him.

I lay next to him. I listened to him breathe.
I stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. I wished I was back in my
own bed. I couldn't sleep. I wasn't close to tired.

Hours passed. Paul snored. How could he fall
asleep? Did he forget I wasn't cuffed? I sat up in bed. Moon light
filtered in through the pink curtains, illuminating his face. His
eyes were shut, his mouth hung open, and his lips rippled with each
snore.

I got up off the bed, making sure not to make
the mattress creak. I didn't want him to wake up. I tiptoed to the
door. I turned the deadbolt and removed the chain. The entire time
I never took my eyes off him. I held my breath until I thought my
lungs would burst.

I cracked the door, and the whooshing sound
of cars on the highway could be heard in the distance. He didn't
move. I ducked out of the door and into the outdoor hallway. I shut
the door slowly, quietly. My heart thumped. My stomach ached. Tears
welled up in my eyes from the stress and tension.

The latch clicked shut into place, and my
stomach bottomed out. I dashed down the hallway, to the manager's
office. I didn't look back. I reached the door and turned the knob
in my hands. Locked. I peeked in the window. The lights were on,
and there was someone sitting at the desk. I knocked on the window
to get their attention.