Stephanie Steele

The blindfold smelled of stale sweat. Maybe it was one of her captor’s neck scarves or something. The smell stung Mia’s nose and made her nauseous. The gag was cutting into the sides of her mouth and was soaked in her own saliva. It was rough and scratched over her teeth sending a shiver down her spine. The binding around her wrists was chaffing at her tender skin. It hurt if she twisted them too much.

One of the creeps who’d taken her gave her a shove on the shoulder, telling her to hurry up. The force of his push made her fall to one knee and she was roughly hauled to her feet. A big hand gripped her upper arm and moved her along at a quicker pace so that she was almost jogging. She tripped again and began to fall but the giant hand prevented her from hitting the floor. Her arm twisted in his vice-like grip and she cried out in pain.

“Stop it!” A deep voice boomed in her ear. “Get up!” She was held up until her feet found the floor again. Another shove urged her forward.

She was inside a building now. She could sense the change in atmosphere. There were no birds singing and no breeze on her face like when they’d taken her from the vehicle a few minutes ago, and she was treading on soft carpeted floors now and not a hard gravel surface. The creep’s voice echoed a little so she knew wherever they were it was a large building. A warehouse perhaps? No, a warehouse wouldn’t have carpets. A large house? Whoever she was being taken to had money.

Over the stench of the stale sweat on the blindfold she thought she smelled food cooking. Bacon? It was definitely a house. No doubt about that. Was she being taken to Leon’s house? Her heart had been beating hard ever since they’d taken her from Steele’s apartment. Now she sensed she was at the end of her journey her heart rate was climbing once more. She sensed she was about to come face to face with him again. The thought increased her breathing and she felt light headed, almost panicky. She thought she would faint but she shook her head to ward off such a thing. The creeps dragging her along weren’t too particular about whether they hurt her or not and falling again would only make them more mad.

After a few more seconds she was picked up and tossed onto what she assumed was a couch. The cushions were deep and soaked up the impact of her landing. She raised her head to listen. She heard the creeps leave, shutting a door behind them. The room was silent but there was a deafening noise. Her own heart crashing against the inside of her ribcage was making such a din that she couldn’t hear if she was alone or not.

She rubbed the side of her face on the arm of the couch in an attempt to remove the blindfold. It was too tight but she did displace it somewhat, enough that she had worked a small area over her left eye free so that she could see a little.

From her limited vision she could see that she was in a palatial sized living room. It was night and there wasn’t much light. A single lamp on the other side of the room wasn’t enough for her to make out the entire room. There was blackness in the corners. Places for someone to hide. She felt a presence, a light scuff of a shoe on a carpet. She wasn’t alone.

“I hope my men didn’t hurt you.” A man’s voice spoke softly from somewhere. His voice!

Her heart banged harder against her, threatening to crack open her chest. Her breathing came in quickening breaths. Her head darted from side to side trying to establish where he was. Then a hand on her shoulder made her jump. She turned her head to see him but the angle was wrong. Tears welled in her eyes but had nowhere to escape so inhibited her vision further.

She felt the couch give as he sat next to her. She automatically leaned away. He was close, she could feel the heat of his body. She smelled that same cologne. A sickly sweet smell that reminded her of the other place where they’d first met when he’d done all those dreadful things to her. Made her into a woman he’d said. Maybe he didn’t know that she was already a woman if that’s what it took. Her daddy and his boozed up friends had seen to that.

That’s how her daddy had treated her mom when she was still alive. She’d lain awake night after night listening to her mother’s muffled screams. Her face probably forced into a pillow to dull the sound so the little girl in the next room couldn’t hear. But she did hear. She heard everything. His drunken shouts of abuse, calling her slut, bitch and other horrible words. And she’d heard the thud of a fist on a face, an arm, a stomach. And she’d heard the door slams and her mom’s pathetic sobs.

When he was out of work and wasting what little money they had on beer and whiskey instead of feeding his family she saw the men coming night after night. Friends of her mom’s her father had told her. Just talking in the bedroom and his warning not to interrupt them. Then when she was nine her mom had died. An accident they’d said. But how do you accidently cut your wrist so badly that you bleed to death? She’d understood when she got older that her mother had done it to get away from him and the terrible, evil things he did.

She’d cursed her mom for what she’d done. She’d promised her she wouldn’t leave her. That she’d always be there for her. That she wouldn’t let anyone harm her. Well mom, you did leave and because of that he turned to me and he did harm me, every night. Then when the work dried up and he didn’t have money for his bottle he’d rented her out to any takers, and there were many takers, sometimes three or four a night. The only respite she got was when she’d made enough money for him and he’d go off for a few days, returning only when his bottle was dry, for a refill.

It had started with him pretending it was a game he wanted to teach her. That this was normal and everyone did it. She doubted her friends at school played this game. Their daddy’s didn’t bring their friends home and wake them up in the middle of the night to play a game. Then one night Scarlett’s dad came to play and she began to think that maybe they did. When she asked Scarlett if her daddy did play that game with her, Scarlett stopped being her friend and when Scarlett’s daddy had come again he played rough and had hurt her. Told her not to speak to Scarlett ever again and if she did that he would hurt her more next time.

One thing was for sure, she wasn’t a woman. No matter how grown up she thought she was, she wasn’t a woman, not in that sense. She was just a child. Not old enough to experience the things a woman was legally allowed or understood. A woman would have a choice to do those things. She didn’t. She was made to do them whenever he wanted.

Something touched the side of her face and she flinched. She whimpered into her gag, snot bursting from her nose and dribbling over her upper lip, and she waited for the inevitable. He was going to hurt her like he did before and she couldn’t do anything. She was helpless and his to do with as he pleased again. She hoped he’d finish the job this time. Wished it would be over quick. The thought made her whimper loudly. She didn’t want to die. She just wanted to be at home in her own cosy bed with parents who loved and adored her, like any normal girl her age.

His fingers ran over her shoulder and down her body. Hot, probing fingers, touching and kneading her soft, barely teenage, flesh. She pushed herself into the couch, trapping herself further, hunching her shoulders. She thought about Steele finding her cold body amongst the garbage in the morning. Maybe the day after once the rats had gnawed at her rotting carcass. There was no Steele to come and rescue her this time. No heroine to save her from what he was about to do to her. His hand went further down her petite body and settled on her thigh, his fingertips caressing her upper leg. She had to do something. Try something. Anything.

She tried speaking but it sounded incoherent though her gag. She tried again only harder. His hand stopped moving and lifted off her leg. He raised her chin and turned her head towards him and pulled the gag from her mouth. It felt good. She wriggled her jaw and pursed her lips to try and get rid of the feeling of still being gagged. She waited for him to speak and when he didn’t she thought he was waiting for her so she did say something.

“You won’t get away with this. I’ve seen the things you’ve done. All those girls on your computer. You’re a monster!” Her words were as harsh as she intended.

His hand clamped around her throat and tightened and she instantly regretted threatening him. She felt her airways closing. It was difficult to breathe. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? At first she thought he was going to choke her but he didn’t. He let go of her and gently slapped her face. A playful slap. Not even a slap. A tap.

“You hacked my computer? Huh! Clever girl.” His words were threatening but she sensed something else. Was it fear?

“Wasn’t that hard.” She told him. He didn’t respond at first. Probably thinking. Working out if he’d been compromised. She meant it to sound like that. It might just save her life if he thought someone else knew his identity. Maybe buy her time.

“You show it to anyone else?” His voice was tinged with anger. When Mia didn’t reply he gripped her jaw in his hand and turned her face towards his, tearing off her blindfold. “That detective for example?”

Mia blinked and squinted, trying to bring her eyes into focus on his face. That chubby face. Those piggy eyes. Evil piggy eyes.

“Yes! And she’s coming for you!” Mia said defiantly, looking him straight in those horrid eyes of his.

He let go of her and sat back. “Doesn’t matter. She’ll be taken care of. Then we have some unfinished business you and I.”

She hated the way he looked her small body up and down, pausing briefly on her still growing breasts, before taking in her face and travelling back down her length again. A grown man shouldn’t look at a young girl like that, especially one like him. A man so many people trusted and looked up to. It made her skin crawl, made her feel worthless, cheap.

He repositioned himself so he could look her straight in the face, almost leaning over her. He wanted to watch her reaction when he told her what he was about to say. He licked his lips with anticipation and cast another quick glance over her body before he spoke.

“I’m going to hurt you and it’s going to last a long time. You’ll wish you were dead and you’ll thank me when I do decide to kill you, for kill you I will, but it’ll be slow and agonising. I’m going to take my time with you. You’re going to suffer like you’ve never suffered before my pretty little princess.” He kissed her wet cheek and it burnt. It felt like the Devil himself has kissing her.

Her lower lip quivered and she tried not to cry but a single tear gave her away. It ran down her cheek making a bid for freedom, onto her chin and dripped onto her lap and she prayed that Steele had found her computer. Had seen what she’d seen and was on her way right now. Where are you Steele? Come and help me please!

He never took his eye off her, examining her face like he was looking at an exquisite painting. Her fear excited him. This was stage one, terrorise them. Then stage two, torture them, inflict as much pain as they could endure and more. Stage three would be carried out when they were screaming in pain. The pleasure would be all his. He couldn’t wait to take her. Last time they’d been interrupted and he hadn’t finished. Hadn’t felt the exquisite eruption that would sear her insides.

Stage four meant it was over for them, but not before he’d done what he wanted, sated his craving for young flesh. He felt the bulge in his pants grow and stiffen as he thought about what he was going to do to her. Because of the interruption last time by that detective he’d leave a message. This time the body would be unrecognisable. And it would’ve been all her fault for daring to interrupt him.

“We need to get ready.” He said and stood, pushing himself up with one arm, gripping the couch with the other for leverage.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her from the couch. She screamed and fell to her knees, dangling like some weird puppet. Unable to balance herself she found herself being dragged along the rich carpet, the friction heating her knees. She felt her hair tearing at the roots and she screamed louder.