I cried until there were no more tears left.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I had cried like that. I usually kept a pretty calm composure.
But nothing so terrible had happened to me in a long time.
I hadn’t had the greatest childhood. Definitely not.
I had been homeless at the age of fifteen.
And a prostitute since the age of sixteen.
But I didn’t let life get me down.
I was stronger than that. I persevered.
No matter what.
But now some perverted psycho had me and I had no idea what he had planned.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of the oversized dress shirt I was wearing. It smelled like him and I scowled and took it away from my face.
I swallowed and looked around the room.
In front of me was the door we had entered through and directly behind me there was a large bed, one side pressed up again the wall. The sheets and comforter were white and clean without a without a wrinkle in sight.
I stood up, my legs feeling wobbly.
I looked at the other side of the room and realized that this was like small apartment.
There was a couch, coffee table, tv, and bookshelf stocked with books. It was all nicely furnished and decorated. There was even a rug and a few paintings hanging up. Next to the couch there was a small round table with two chairs and beyond that there was an open door leading to a bathroom.
My eyebrows drew together and I walked a little closer to examine everything.
This place was nicer than my own apartment.
I may have been in the clutches of a demented guy, but I had clearly gotten an upgrade.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to be here anymore than I had before.
It almost concerned me more that it was so nice.
He clearly planned on having someone here for a long time. He had gotten everything ready and spared no expense. He’d obviously been expecting to bring someone back here from the boat we’d been on. And he also expected to keep them here for a long while.
Like he said, I had everything I needed here.
Food was the only thing that was missing and I was pretty sure he intended to supply me with that as well.
I was a prisoner, but at least my cell was nice.
I rolled my eyes at my way of thinking and plopped down on the couch.
Right, Max. That’s a lovely way to think about it.
But it was true. This wasn’t as bad as it could me.
I could be in a dark, cold room with no bed and nothing to entertain me but my thoughts.
You would go crazy in a place like that.
And you don’t think you’ll go crazy here, Max?
I sighed and looked down at my bare knees.
What was I going to do?
How could I possibly get away when I was locked in here? A secret room with a code, hidden behind a bookcase.
How the fuck was I going to get of here?
And then I thought of the answer…
Not right now at least.
There just wasn’t a way right now.
I needed to wait and learn more about this ‘Mr Lenkov.’ Maybe find a weakness.
I would bide my time and wait for the best possible moment to escape.
I nodded to myself.
But this plan only made me feel marginally better.
Because I was still stuck in a foreign place, in a foreign country, on a foreign continent, held captive my someone I was scared of.
My lip trembled and I laid down on the couch, knees pulled up to my chest.
I told myself to be strong.
I could make it through this.
I had never been one to break and fall apart before. Not from all the other shit that had happened in my life. I looked back on those things and felt triumphant because of how I had gotten over them.
This was just one more thing I had to conquer.
And I could.
Because that’s just who I was.
A couple hours passed and I explored the room a bit more.
I looked at the bookcase and found that there was a wide selection of books, ranging from classics to modern romances to nonfiction.
Clearly Mr Psycho didn’t know what his future prisoner liked to read so he got a little bit of everything…thoughtful, I guess?
When I had turned on the tv I saw that it had Netflix and nothing else. I never watched Netflix—because it was never something I had the luxury to afford—so I supposed that could be considered a positive side to my captivity.
Maybe I was trying to find anything to look forward to. Because I was sure that it wasn’t going to be fun to be stuck in this room all day everyday.
It wasn’t as tiny as a prison cell but it also wasn’t the most spacious. It was nice, but everything was very close together and I didn’t have much room to wander around. The bathroom was tiny but very fancy looking.
Mr Psycho was clearly rich, but obviously didn’t have that much space to house his secret slave.
I didn’t read or watch Netflix. I just sat and stared at the taupe colored walls, wondering when he was going to return.
I was getting hungry, curious as to how long it had been since I’d had that steak and potatoes on the boat. I figured it had to have been quite a long while.
My stomach began to growl and within a few minutes it felt like it was going to begin eating itself.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to distract myself from this incredible hunger, but I didn’t have to wonder for long because I then heard a scraping noise on the other side of the door—someone was pulling the bookcase away to reveal the door behind it.
I was on edge—knowing that it was probably the Russian psycho. But he had promised me food and he also had done nothing to hurt me so far. Hopefully I would get food and nothing terrible would happen. I just wanted to eat and then be left alone again.
I heard the code being entered on the keypad and the door slid open.
My captor walked in with a tray in his hands a moment later. He balanced the tray on one hand expertly to use his thumb on a small fingerprint reader that then shut the door and locked us in.
So not only did he have me trapped in here when he was away, but he was also able to lock us inside. There was no way I was going to be able to get out of here unless I was already outside this room. I realized then, even more than before, that I really needed to bide my time.
Be patient, Max. Be patient. Maybe he’ll let his guard down with you one day.
I sat very still on the couch as the man walked further into the room. He came closer and set the tray on the little round table next to the couch.
I could smell the food and my mouth began to water.
He took a seat in a chair and took a newspaper out from underneath his arm.
He then turned his eyes to me for the first time. “Come. Sit.”
I frowned. I was not a dog.
He stared at me with a blank expression, but there was something in his eyes that became…darker…when I didn’t move.
His grey eyes may have been a beautiful color, but they weren’t something I wanted to look at for an extended length of time…or ever really.
Weren’t eyes supposedly windows to the soul?
Well Mr Psycho’s grey eyes showed just how cruel, cold, and powerful he was.
His stare alone made me get up from couch and walk towards the table. I lowered my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at his any longer.
I walked to the opposite side of the table and began pulling out the chair.
“No,” he said, like he was correctly a disobeying child. “On the floor. You will kneel.”
I paused and didn’t move. I really didn’t want to do that. But instead of being defiant and telling him that he should go fuck himself, I just stood there, unmoving.
“Now, Kitten. Don’t make me tell you a third time. I assure you, you will not like it if I do.” His tone was dark and serious.
It was clear that he didn’t have people disobey him often. He expected me to follow his orders and he was ready to punish me if I didn’t.
I didn’t want to find out what a punishment from him meant, so I finally moved and went to kneel at his feet.
“Good boy,” he said, praising me.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Because it was nice to hear his voice sound a tad bit friendlier, but I also wasn’t a dog and didn’t want to be treated like one.
When I hadn’t glanced up at him and only kept staring at my knees, he used a finger on my chin to tilt my face up to his.
“Now, I bet you are hungry, yes?” He asked. I didn’t answer that. I was sure that he already knew just how hungry I was. “I want you to ask me for something. You will refer to me as Master and nothing else, do you understand?” He asked.
I looked at him with a blank expression but defiant eyes.
When I didn’t move or speak, he looked unamused and removed his hand from my chin.
“Very well,” he said. He picked up the newspaper from the table and opened it.
He began reading as if I wasn’t even there.
I didn’t like this one bit.
The warm food that smelled so good was sitting there, growing cold. My stomach screamed, wanting me to feed it.
But I was not about to call this man ‘Master.’
I would not stoop that low.
I didn’t have a Master and I was no one’s property. I was a human being, not an animal or an object.
But the food called to me.
My eyebrows drew together as I looked up at the edge of the tray that was visible.
I saw a piece of bread, peaking over the edge of a plate. My mouth watered again and I reached my hand up to take it.
My hand was quickly slapped away from the annoyed Russian, but he didn’t look away from his paper.
He didn’t scold me but I still felt like a chastised child.
The man may have been cruel, but he was patient.
I placed my hands on my knees and stared longingly at it. My legs were becoming sore after kneeling on the wood floor and I wondered if I would soon grow used to this pose.
I chewed on my lip, looking back and forth between the Russian and the tray of food that was going untouched.
I didn’t know how long we sat in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the rustle of the newspaper as he turned the page.
I was almost surprised that the words had come out of my mouth.
But he wasn’t. He looked at me—not looking like he felt like he won. He just had a expression that said something happened that he already knew was going to happen. He didn’t feel triumphant because he knew all along that I would cave.
“Yes, Kitten?” He asked, placing the newspaper on the table.
I whimpered. “Can I have some food? Please, Master? I’m very hungry.”
He gave a nod of his head. “Good Kitten.”
He moved his hands, tearing off a piece of the bread I had tried to snatch. He held it out to me and I opened my mouth.
When the bread was on my tongue, I closed my mouth and let out a relieved sigh as I began to chew.
He cute a piece of meat, which ended up being chicken, and held it out on a fork for me once I was done chewing the bread.
I ate the piece of chicken and then he went back to spear about piece of food on the fork.
I ate the potato he held out to me and chewed that, loving the feeling of some food finally in my belly.
The whole meal went by very slowly. He didn’t allow me to eat quickly. Had I been the one feeding myself, I probably would’ve scarfed everything down—I was hungry and these past two meals were the best food I’d had in years.
But my captor was very patient.
He was calm and cut each piece of meat slowly before holding it out to me once I had finished chewing my last bit of food.
Sometimes I wanted to scream at him and tell him to hurry up, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well so I didn’t dare try it.
The food was beyond good and I wondered who had prepared it. I was willing to bet Mr Psycho had someone to do that for him. He undoubtedly could afford to pay someone to cook his meals.
As the food filled my belly, I didn’t have a chance to feel disappointed in myself for giving into his demands. I was too happy to be fed.
But when the food was gone and the plate was eventually empty, I felt a little sick.
Not from how full I was—but because I had caved to his wishes.
I had just called this man Master and allowed him to feed me like I was something other than a full functioning human like I had last time.
“Are you thirsty?” He asked, hand going towards a glass of juice on the tray.
I was parched.
But I didn’t think I could give in a second time. I could tell that he was waiting for me to ask him if I may have some, but I was too proud. I could live without having a drink of juice.
I turned away from him and looked at the floor.
“Very well,” he said again, not seeming bothered by my rejection.
It made me a little angry that he wasn’t angry.
That may have been a fucked up way of thinking about it, but I hated how calm he was. I had only seemed to ruffle his feathers when I had touched him earlier.
After we sat in silence yet again, he finally said, “Stand.”
I quickly did what he said, happy to get off my legs. They had begun falling asleep.
I was a little wobbly when I stood at first, but then I steadied myself and faced him, eyes turned down.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes when I saw him reach for something in his pocket.
He pulled out a crumpled up piece of fabric. He unfolded it and I saw that it was a pair of women’s panties.
I cautiously watched him and then he held them out to me. “Put these on.”
His tone was firm and not up for discussion.
Wearing panties wasn’t the worst thing I could’ve had to do. I had worn them before. Sometimes when men had wanted to pay a little extra, they had me wear them.
I didn’t mind wearing them, but I didn’t want to wear them now. Because it would only feed into Mr Psycho’s view of me as his sexual slave.
He hadn’t made any moves to force himself on me, but deep down I knew it was only a matter of time.
I didn’t make a move to take the panties from his hands and his expression grew unamused and slightly darker. “Take them, Kitten.”
Eventually I took them from his hands.
Only to drop them on the floor.
He was out of his chair so quickly that I was startled. He was on me in a second and took ahold of my face with one hand, gripping it tightly, fingers pressing into my cheeks painfully.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, a small sick grin on his face.
I had never seen someone look so deranged, and over such a simple thing like me dropping a pair of panties.
His eyes were full of pure evil mirth.
I realized then that it would give him no greater pleasure then to hurt me.
I swallowed. I was sure my eyes showed how truly terrified I was. I regretted dropping the panties and I no longer wished to ruffle his feathers like I had earlier.
I shook my head, having no other way to communicate because of the way my lips were being pressed together.
He smirked, “Would you like to correct your mistake?”
I quickly nodded.
His smile was satisfied…if what you could call the way his lips moved a smile at all.
He took his hand away from my face and I let out a breath. I was shaking like a leaf and when I bent down to pick up the panties, I could hardly get my fingers to work and pick them.
Finally, I managed and I took ahold of them.
Before I could stand, the man gripped my hair tightly with his hands, fingers tangling in the strands and holding it firmly.
I was bent at an awkward angle and my head was level with his crotch.
I tried to keep my breathing even. I want to remain calm more than anything.
Without a word, he let go of my hair and moved away from me, sitting back in the chair at the table.
I stood the rest of the way and watched him pick up the newspaper again as if he hadn’t just been about to snap me in two.
“You may change in the bathroom if you wish,” he said quite calmly. “Panties only, no shirt.”
Without acknowledging what he said, I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door, making sure not to slam it even though I wanted to.
I tried to get my heart to stop beating so fast.
I gasped for air and then turned, looking at my frightened face in the mirror. My whole body, even my lips, were shaking.
With trembling hands, I removed the oversized dress shirt I was wearing, along with the underwear. I then managed to put on the white pair of panties. Most of the backside was missing, resembling more of a thong than anything else.
I looked at my scrawny body in the mirror. I couldn’t look away from my own eyes. It was like my own terror had me paralyzed.
I wondered why I was so scared. Had Ricky done anything like that to me, I would’ve just pushed him away or waited calmly until he let me go.
But there was something about that man, about being here in this place, that turned me into a completely different person.
Who was I now?
And who would I become after being here for God knows how long?
I must have been taking too long because the man said, “Oh, Sweet Kitten. Come out of the bathroom now.”
I swallowed and walked over to the door with shaky legs.
I opened the door and left it open as I walked back out into the main room.
The corners of the man’s mouth quirked up in pleasure.
He beckoned me closer to him with a finger and I went to him without a second thought. After what had transpired a minute ago, I was too afraid to fight back for the time being.
The man used a finger to trace around my body, feeling my bones and the curves of my skin.
“Too skinny indeed,” he said. “We will definitely need to keep you properly fed, won’t we?” He looked up at me and I saw that he was waiting for a response so I simply nodded my head.
He looked satisfied with that response.
He then stood up from the chair, the full length of his body brushing up against mine before he took a step away. I shuddered.
“Now, I will be back later, Little котенок,” he told me. “But for now,” he began as he picked up the tray that contained an empty plate, used silverware, and untouched glass of juice. “I want you to stay in those panties. I will know if you disobey my orders.” He balanced the tray with one hand and then pointed up to something in the corner of the room where the wall met the ceiling.
How had I not noticed?
“You don’t want to make me angry again, do you?” He asked, a slight growl in his tone.
I shook my head slowly.
“Good,” he said. He then turned away from me and began walking towards the door. “Occupy yourself with something. I don’t want to watch you wallowing in self pity. I will return with dinner.”
He then used his thumbprint to open the door. He left the room and the door slid shut behind him.
It sounded like a coffin lid slamming shut.