Owned by Him (Editing)

Guess Who?

I eventually came around, though I was extremely groggy and moderately wished I hadn't. My reality was going to be no less cruel than my nightmares so why wake up? I suppose it was a rather dismal outlook but given the circumstance, it was most certainly warranted.

The blindfold remained tightly bound across my eyes but I detected instantly that I had been moved somewhere else. The odour of the room had changed, it was less mildewy, though not completely free of it. It smelled more like an old folk's home, a combination of dust bunnies and medicines mixed with a hint of vapour rub. I supposed it was a step up from the damp in the room before.

My wrists were tethered above me, latched to what I surmised to be a sturdy, metal headboard which allowed me very little movement. My ankles however, had not been fettered together and were in fact, fastened at either side of the base of the bed I had been dumped on. The position gave me a whole new sense of apprehensive vulnerability. The most intimate and exclusive part of myself was now available to him and there was nothing I could do if he chose to do the unimaginable. The very idea made me want to vomit and it seemed that this was his intention; to impose pure terror through the wild imaginings of my own mind.

With potent goosebumps lining the skin of my now bare extremities and the draught I could feel flowing across me, it was obvious that my clothes had been removed. I was no longer wearing my leggings nor my tunic from where I had left off of work and I couldn't feel my watch around my wrist. My feet and legs were bare but my stomach and chest had been covered by a rather lascivious, silk nightgown. The realisation offered very little commiseration but I was minimalistically grateful I had been allowed something to wear.

The realisation that I was no longer wearing any underwear sent my mind spiralling and had my resolve in tatters. His intentions were clear and it was facing the reality of what was going to happen to me that really brought the severity and precariousness of my situation to dawn on me.

My legs were spread, I had no underwear. My hands were literally tied and there was nothing I could do to stop him from violating me if he truly wanted to and that was just horrifying. The sense of dread was overwhelming and my tears dribbled out with such fierce need, that within minutes of my pitiful wailing, the blindfold slipped slightly from the weight of every tear. This maniac had full control and I was at his complete mercy - a dynamic I was far too familiar with and had hoped to never experience again. Fate really does have a fucked up sense of humor.

Irrationality quickly set in, as did the hysteria and adrenaline but regardless of having already tried to break the steel cuffs holding each of my limbs captive, I tried again. And again. And again. They were entirely futile attempts, painful ones too but the idea of being raped frightened me more than the thick, bleeding slits now carved into the skin of my ankles and wrists.

After God knows how long, I did manage to bridle some of the anxiety but not completely. I wasn't moving until He wanted me to and so I sat blinded, bound and silenced in my isolated prison with nothing but the dregs of my own trepidation to keep me company.

Sometime later, the door opened.

I didn't move. Partially because I was unable to but more because I didn't feel that this sick, twisted bastard deserved any kind of acknowledgement from me. I had read about psychopathic individuals like this back when I was studying Psychology at university, they craved a reaction from those they hold prisoner. They feed off of fear and the control they have over their victims. Wel, I would not be giving them what they needed to get their kicks.

I listened intently and aside from my own pounding heartbeat, I could hear each lock upon the door be slotted into place. By the calmness and lack of urgency to cause me distress, I suspected that this was not my initial abductor and that was somewhat unnerving.