stockholm syndrome

CHAPTER FOUR

I sat there, awake, for several hours. My wrists and ankles sore from pulling against the straps when I got tired of being tied down.

"Good morning, jewel." I hear his voice suddenly before the feeling of lips on the back of my neck followed.

"Good morning, sir." I say quietly. He quickly removes the cloth from over my eyes, giving me time to adjust to the sudden light.

It took me a second to realize that he had begun to undo the straps, making me relieved but also worried. "What are you doing, sir?" He froze, looking up at me before shaking his head and starting on the next strap.

Once he finished, he roughly lifted me out of the chair, dragging me down the hallway towards what looked to be a bedroom. I began to panic, trying to pull my wrist out of his grip—only causing him to grab me by the waist and throw me over his shoulder.

I began to hit his back repeatedly until he suddenly set me down on a hard surface. I looked around and realized that he brought me into a small bathroom instead.

"Will you calm down?" He snaps, locking the bathroom door behind him. "If I was going to fuck you, I would have done it already." I screwed my eyes shut at his harsh tone.

Then I heard the shower turn on. He lifted me off the floor and pulled me towards him before he began to pull off my shirt. I quickly shook my head, stepping away from him.

"Either you let me do it, or you'll put on a show for me." I sighed and stepped forward, allowing him to take my shirt off. He placed my shirt on the sink, grazing his fingertips along my arms, tracing over the tattoos and messing with my fingers.

"You're so beautiful, jewel." He says quietly before he slowly unbuttons my jeans, pulling them down and letting me step out of them before placing them on top of my shirt.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my boxers, making me panic in realization. I quickly shook my head, pushing his hands away and backing up as far from him as I could.

As my back hit the wall, I knew I couldn't get away. He walked over, placing his hands on the wall on each side of my head, trapping me in my place. "Why do you insist on hiding yourself from me, darling?" I turned my head away as he leaned in.

I didn't respond, to scared to even make up an answer. "I finally got you speechless, huh?" He says while trailing a finger along my jaw.

"What a shame, you have such a beautiful voice." He pulls me towards the shower, swiftly pulling down my boxers and letting me step out of them.

I hear him mumble a few words under his breath, then a few shuffling sounds were heard and he covers my eyes with a dark cloth before guiding me into the shower.

***

"It's been two weeks since the disappearance of local college student, Mitchell Grassi." The news reporter spoke in her usual monotonous voice.

"Witnesses say he was last seen coming home from a class on Tuesday when he went missing." He quickly shut the TV off, tossing the remote onto the table.

"Mitchell?" I rolled my eyes. He laughed, walking over and kneeling in front of me. "It suits you."

He had put me back in the chair, strapping down my arms and legs as punishment for trying to run from him in the bathroom earlier.

"And? I still don't know your name." He raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"Scott." He says quietly before standing up and walking to the kitchen. Scott. Basic name for such a psychotic bastard.

A few moments later he came back, turned off the light and quickly kissed my shoulder.

"Goodnight, Mitchell."