Taken and Kept (Reluctant BDSM) (2 page)

He looked up and got up and opened the
door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Do you have a phone I can use?" I asked. I
tried to contain my anxiety, to keep calm so I didn't confuse the
guy.

"Yeah," he said and handed me a cordless from
the desk.

As I punched in 911 he raised his eyebrows as
I raised the phone to my ear. He seemed to look at something behind
me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.

Finally, the other line clicked.

"911, please state your emergency."

"I've been kidnapped."

The guy did a double take. He opened his
mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"What's your name?" The operator asked.

"Heather Miles."

"Ok, Heather, I want you to stay on the line.
We're sending an officer right now."

My whole body shook.

"Is he there with you?" The operator
asked.

"No," I said. "He's in one of the rooms."

A hand came down on my shoulder and squeezed
me. I slowly turned around to see Paul grinning.

"Put the phone down, sweetie," he said. He
had the gun pointed at me. The manager couldn’t see the weapon from
where he stood.

I opened my hand and let the phone fall to
the floor. He led me out of the office.

"You've gotta stop making these prank phone
calls," he said for the manager's benefit.

I couldn't speak. My vocal chords were
paralyzed. I couldn't believe this was happening. He led me to the
truck and thrust me inside. Just before he closed the door he
yanked my arms back and cuffed me. Then he moved around to the
driver's side and got in.

He kept the gun in his hand and he kept the
muzzle pointed at me. I broke out in a cold sweat. I was done for.
This was it; this was how I was going to die. I heard sirens in the
distance, and he started the engine and peeled off down the
highway.

"How could you do this?" he growled. "I was
going to give you a chance. We could've been happy together."

"Just do it," I said. "Get it over with."

"Have to find a good place to dump your
body."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. He drove
down the highway. I felt like I was on death row, just waiting for
the priest to come give me my last rights.

We drove for an hour, him with his gun on me,
me looking out the window at the stars. I came to accept my fate. I
wasn't scared of angry, just resigned. Maybe it was my time.

He pulled over onto a shoulder where bushes
lined the road. He got out of the truck and opened the door. I
looked at him. I looked right into his eyes. If he was going to
kill me, damn it I would be brave. I wanted him to always remember
me and think about what he'd done.

His eyes shined. Was he crying? He reached
out for me, but I jumped to the dirt from the truck. I didn’t want
him to touch me. I followed him into the brush, away from the road.
We walked among the sparse trees until we reached a clearing. He
stopped, and I stopped.

He faced me. He didn’t raise the gun. His
cheeks were wet now.

"Why did you have to do that?" he asked.

"What you did was wrong," I said. "Kidnapping
is wrong."

"Don't preach to me," he said.

"So you're going to kill me?"

He didn't say anything. Just clutched his gun
and looked at me. He sniffed.

"I know you're not a killer," I said,
softening my tone. "But if you punish me, I'll understand."

"Just stop talking," he growled.

"Why don't you just shoot me already?"

He rushed towards me, and slapped me. I
jerked back and fell to the ground from losing my balance.

"I'm in charge," he said. "You listen to what
I tell you. You don't tell me what to do."

My cheek burned. He knelt next to me and put
the gun to my head. I closed my eyes, and clenched my teeth.

"Remember how this feels," he said. To my
surprise he put the gun back in his holster. "This is your last
chance. If you fuck up one more time, I'll blow your head off.
Understand?"

I nodded. Tears streamed down my face. God,
why did I have to cry? I wanted to be strong, but something inside
me snapped. I sobbed.

"I'm sorry," I pleaded.

He didn’t say anything. He bent me over his
knee and yanked my sweats down around my knees. I didn’t bother to
struggle. I knew how that would go. He smacked my bottom over and
over until my skin was red and raw. I whimpered from the pain. But
I knew I deserved it. And it was better than the alternative.

When he was done he pulled my pants back up
and helped me to my feet. As he looked at me, a smile touched his
lips. I hated to admit how handsome he was. In some alternate
universe I could see myself on a date with this guy. He wiped the
tears from my face and helped me to the truck.

He got in and we took off. He could've killed
me, but he didn't. Brushing my face seemed so affectionate. He
confused me. I was more unsure than ever whether the guy was a
brute or just misunderstood.

After a while he turned on the radio. Some
rock station played, and he moved his hand to the knob.

"Don't," I said. "I like this music."

He gave me a quick smile. "Me too."

At that moment I vowed to do everything he
told me, and I wouldn't contradict him. The longer I could prolong
my own life, the better. Something told me as well that if I was
agreeable enough, he might even let me go.

We drove to another motel. I rolled my eyes
inwardly. I wondered how intelligent Paul was. Sure, he used cash,
but he was establishing a pattern the cops could easily
discover.

He parked, went to the office, and came back
to get me. We had a room on the second floor, and he placed his
hand in the small of my back to help me balance as we walked up the
stairs. We went to the room. Another dumpy place.

As soon as he closed and locked the door, he
touched me. I wanted to cringe, but let him squeeze me. When he
broke the hug, he gazed at me. I knew that look. It was a look
plenty of men gave me.

"Take a shower," he said. "I'll take your
cuffs off, but I'll have to keep an eye on you of course."

"I guess I'm pretty stinky," I mumbled. I
hated the idea of him watching me, but what could I say?

He took the cuffs off me and followed me to
the bathroom. I turned the water on. The tub was stained yellow and
had a dark ring. I turned the shower on. He closed and locked the
door behind us. I pulled my shirt over my head to reveal my sports
bra.

"Face me," he said.

I turned my body towards him. He bit his lip
as he watched me pull my pants down. That was when I noticed he had
a black bag with him. He opened the bag and set body wash in the
shower. He also pulled out some shaving cream and a razor.

"Continue," he said, waving his hand.

I sucked in a breath, and just pulled my bra
over my head and pulled my panties off. I undressed quick, like
ripping off a band aid. My nipples hardened at the cool room air,
and I shifted on my feet. He gazed at my soft pink body. He looked
from between my legs up to my breasts. I couldn't help but notice
the bulge in his pants.

I felt ashamed as I got wet. How the hell
could I get aroused at a time like this? Deep down, I liked the way
he looked at me. I stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain
shut when he grabbed the corner and leaned against the wall next to
the shower. He had full view of everything I did.

He gave me the body wash and watched me soap
up. I knew he wanted me. Secretly I think I wanted him to. Maybe it
was a defensive mechanism, I don't know. But as I glanced at the
bulge I throbbed.

"Wash between your legs," he commanded.

I did as he said. I even rubbed between my
lips, teasing my own clit. That's when something came over me.

"Do you like that?" I asked. "When I touch
myself?"

"Keep going," he said.

I soaped my entire body. I rubbed my breasts,
touched my nipples. I knew I hit the right spot when he squirmed. I
liked teasing him like that. For once in the whole situation I felt
like I had control.

I rinsed myself off and was about to step out
when he handed me the razor and cream.

"I want it all gone," he said. "Shave
everything."

I lathered the cream onto my legs and pits.
He motioned with his hand and I put some on my crevice. I shaved
every last bit. I washed myself and came out completely smooth. He
handed me a towel. He couldn't keep his eyes off me.

"Much better," he breathed.

I dripped onto the floor and began to shiver.
He wrapped his arms around me. I could smell his musky cologne.
There was a light hint of aftershave. Not overpowering, but enough
to make me want to take a deep breath of him.

He led me back to the bed, and with one swoop
he pulled the towel off me.

"I'm not holding back anymore," he said.

He grabbed me and pulled me against his body.
He was warm and firm. I buried my face in his neck. Just being this
close to someone felt great. I'd been cut off from everyone I
knew.

He held me out and kissed me. His lips
brushed mine, and I opened my mouth, inviting him to explore me.
His bumpy tongue touched mine, and I collapsed against him. He held
me up. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my back. My breathing
grew heavy, and I could feel my wetness cover my crevice. I was
ready.

He eased me back onto the bed. His hands
explored my body. I buried my hands in his shoulders. I held him as
tight as I could, as if I were afraid he would disappear. His
fingers crept into the space between my legs. He drifted down my
thighs, down until he got the juices flowing.

He slipped between the folds of my crevice
until he found the aching nub. He rubbed the button, massaged me,
until I squeezed him between my legs and moaned into his mouth. I
sucked his lips, his tongue. My urgency surprised him, and he
gasped against me and rubbed me faster.

My nails dug into his shirt, and I broke the
kiss to throw my head back. Every part of my body was tense. I
didn't want him to stop.

"Tell me you want me," he said.

"I want you."

"Are you going to leave me?"

Before I could respond he swirled his thumb
around me. I moaned and tried to catch my breath.

"How could I?" I gasped.

He kissed my neck, my chest. My muscles shook
with anticipation. I didn’t know what to expect. He flicked his
tongue over my erect nipple. I shivered, and goose bumps broke out
on my arms.

"Please keep going, Paul," I moaned.

He responded by nibbling me. His teeth on my
flesh made my chest heave, and my pussy ache. He sucked my breast,
and moved on to the other one to repeat the process. My chest was
wet with my sweat and his saliva.

He released my breast with a slurp and
trailed his tongue down my stomach, where he teased my belly
button.

"Oh god, Paul," I groaned and held his hair
tight in my hands. He ignored me and kept going.

He showed me no mercy. He licked above my
shaven, bare spot above my mound. I held my breath as he moved
close and closer to my crevice. I wanted him to do it, just get it
over with already.

Paul's tongue touched the corner of my lips,
and he slid his tongue between the folds. I sighed, and he swirled
his tongue around my aching nub. I heaved, and pulled his hair
between my fingers. I had no control over my body anymore. My toes
curled around the edge of the bed.

His tongue brought me to the edge, and just
when I thought he would push me over, he moved his tongue down
further, to my wet hole. He penetrated me, pressing his muscle into
my tight crevice.

His tongue plunged deeper. His lips tickled
my flesh below my clit. My button ached miserably. He inched back
up to my nub and gave me the attention I needed. He worked and
worked, making me tingle and throb. He brought me to the brink and
back before finally stopping.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting you ready of course," he said.
"Making sure you can handle me."

"No, I mean I didn't want you to stop."

"The way I see it I control whether you get
off."

He licked his lips, tasting me one last time.
He kissed me full on the lips, and I tasted my own salty juices. I
wanted more. I wrapped my legs around his waist, shoved my tongue
down his throat until he broke the kiss and gasped for breath.

"What's your fantasy?" I asked. "I'll do
anything."

He smiled. "This. You."

"What do you mean?"

"Taking by force. That's my fantasy."

My stomach bottomed but I soldiered on. "I
want to be taken."