Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I get out of it, and find that I’m wearing a short white mesh-type nightgown. I don’t recall putting this on at all. Did he dress me overnight? How did I not wake up? Did he drug me?
???
I drugged her.
I slipped a little something into the hot chocolate she probably doesn’t even remember drinking at this point. Her apartment was always going to be a short-term thing. It was fun to break into, but the thrill was starting to fade from repetition. Keeping her captive will be much more amusing and satisfying. I’ll have complete control, and she will be entirely safe.
I watch her on the cameras that cover the room from several different angles. When I fuck her, I’m going to be able to watch it back in an almost cinematic fashion.
Right now, I am cutting grapefruit for her breakfast. I have croissants warming too with ham and cheese melting into them. I think she will enjoy this simple repast. I watch as she tries the door and finds it locked. There’s a moment in which she panics, but she settles pretty fast after that.
Laura doesn’t know it, but she has all the mental qualities of a good captive. She’s adaptive, she’s open, and there’s a softness to her that melts into submission whenever it is given the slightest warmth.
From the first moment I saw her, there was something about the way she looked at me that made me feel as though she was begging me to take care of her. She looks at the whole world that way, but most of the time it doesn’t answer. This time, it does. I do.
I go up to her room, unlatch the door from the outside, and carry the tray in.
She is sitting in bed looking adorable and confused.
“Have you kidnapped me?”
“Yes,” I say. “I suppose I have.”
“It’s going to suck wearing a balaclava in your own home. Who are you?” She’s got some attitude this morning. She didn’t like finding that she was locked in, I’d bet. It gave her a fright. Her mouth becomes much rougher when she is afraid.
“I like it,” I say. “It’s lightweight.”
“Is your face scarred under it, or something? You have nice eyes, ohhh, croissants!”
She’s easily distracted from her own plight as I reveal her breakfast treat. Laura works as a waitress, bringing people delicious treats. It is a pleasure to bring her something she enjoys and to help her see that she deserves to be treated well.
She starts eating immediately. She’s obviously hungry. I noticed that her apartment didn’t have much in the way of good food. She pecks here and there, gets a meal at the restaurant she works at when she is on shift, but she’s not buying good amounts of groceries.
“This is so delicious,” she says. “Pity most of your face is covered. Maybe you could get an eye mask and then you could eat with me. Did you have some already? Oh, my god, these croissants are amazing!”
One might be forgiven for thinking she doesn’t care that she has been captured. I am sure she does, but now she is trying not to let me know she is scared. It almost works, but for the fact there is a tremor in her fingers though that she can’t quite hide, and the way she downs her juice makes me think her mouth is dry. She’s avoiding eye contact with me too.
“You were attacked last night,” I say. “Someone tried to hurt you. I will never allow that to happen again. That’s why you’re here. So you can be looked after.”
“Is that how you frame kidnapping in a more kindly way?”
There’s that attitude again.
“You’re about to have your ass spanked long and hard,” I growl at her.
Her eyes widen. I’ve only disciplined her once before, but we are getting very close to that again at this point. I knew the familiarity of having her in my home would create a little disrespect.
“Why?” she squeaks.
“Because you’re giving me attitude, and I don’t appreciate it.”
“You kidnapped me, and I don’t appreciate that, actually.”
I cock my head to the side. I feel as though I am being baited, almost as if she wants a spanking. I wonder if she does. I’ve seen her family situation. She grew up mothering most of her siblings in a house with no stable male role models. The man who is sometimes around now isn’t anything like a father to her.
She needs a spanking from her daddy, that’s what she needs.
“Finish your breakfast, Laura,” I say. “There’s plenty of time to earn yourself a punishment.”
She stuffs more croissant into her mouth, and then spoons eggs in, almost as if she is in a hurry to get into trouble. I watch her, quite aware that she is very curious as to what I intend to do with her next.