Trained for Sin

Chapter 1: The Intruder

It is a normal Thursday night and I just got home after work. I pull up to my apartment and go inside. As normal I call out into the house,
“Honey I’m home!” but instead of the silence that normally occurs, a male voice calls out from the kitchen.
“Hey, I picked up a pizza before I came.” I freeze and rack my brain, ‘I didn’t invite anyone over, that wasn’t dad’s voice, who the hell is in my house?!?!’ I grab the small pocket
knife out of my pocket but it is a poor excuse for protection. Slowly, I creep into the kitchen.
The first thing I realize is the gun pointed at my chest. The second thing I notice is the open box of pizza on the table. Finally, I look up at the man sitting at my table, his hair is pitch
black, his eyes an electric blue, and his body is slim yet muscular. Once I finish my assessment he smirks at me,
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
“No…” I say cautiously, my eyes darting between his annoyingly familiar face and the terrifying sight of the gun pointed at my chest.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t, after all, who remembers the poor kid who never talks back and never stands up for himself.” Suddenly everything becomes perfectly clear,
“Dallas!?!?” I exclaim, momentarily forgetting about the gun and taking a step towards him. He cocks the gun and the sound makes me freeze again. “Dallas?” I say, more cautiously this time. He looks at me with tears in his eyes,
“You better stay real fucking still!!”
‘What the hell is happening? This isn’t the Dallas I remember!’ I think to myself.
“Ok,” I say with a calm I don’t feel,
“Dallas, just tell me what’s going on, this isn’t like you. The Dallas I knew would do anything to protect his friends even if he refused to be protected by anyone else.” He looks
at me with utter fury shining in his eyes,
“Refused!? You think I refused to be protected? You think I wanted those people making fun of me? Walking all over me!” He’s hysterical now, I need to find a way to calm him down again.
“Dallas?” I ask in the calmest voice I can muster but apparently, some of my terror seeped through because he suddenly looks at me like he can’t believe what he had just done. With a shaking hand, he sets the gun on the table facing away from us. I start making my way towards him very slowly, expecting him to fall back into hysterics at any moment.
He just sits there, crying quietly into his hands. As I approach him I set my hand on his arm and he stiffens but does nothing else. We stand there for a moment as he pulls himself together. Finally, he speaks,
“Ava...I need you to stand very still with your hands behind you.” He grabs the gun again, calmly this time, and uncocks it. I stood there not knowing what to do. He looks at
me again and I see the sorrow filling his eyes. I break down and slowly move my hands behind my back and he ties them together with some rope he had in a black bag sitting next
to him.
“Dallas?” I ask so quietly I doubt he hears. But he obviously does because his answer came just as soft.
“Please don’t make this harder than it is…” His words confuse me but I push on in my quest for answers.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, allowing some of the fear and confusion I felt to seep through.
“I have to.” Is his only reply.
“But-” I start and he quickly cuts me off, some of the previous anger rising up in his eyes,
“Don’t! Don’t say anything! I am going to do what I have to do and you are going to play the part you are supposed to play and then I will finally be free! No one is going to keep my freedom from me when it’s so close I can feel it! Soon I will be done serving him and everyone will know my name! Not a soul will dare to mock me again!”
A heavy silence settles over the room as he snaps himself out of his episode. This time instead of shock from what he said, he was merely weary of me. Tears begin welling up in my eyes but they aren’t from fear, they are from the memories of the little boy who had been subjected to the type of pain that transforms a kind, protective child, into a torturedand cruel man. I couldn’t even dream of the kinds of things he has witnessed in his life that was so incredibly different from mine. My heart ached for that beautiful, innocent boy I used to know.
“Don’t…” He says softly, “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t feel sorry for me, it’s pointless. I am who I am, and that won’t change just because you pity me.” I look away, unable to keep the tears back. I pull myself together as quickly as possible and then look
back up at him.
“I’ll go. I won’t try to run. I owe you that much. You always protected me, this is my way to pay you back for that.” He stares at me for a long moment, not trusting the words I
am telling him.
“Dammit, I want to believe you are trying to mess with me, but I’m pretty sure you’re being serious and I can’t decide which is worse…”
Dallas decides to untie my hands until we get to his van to avoid suspicion, however his grip on my arm is undoubtedly going to leave bruises. Once in the van he re-ties my hands and puts a haphazardly made blindfold on my head so that I can’t see where we are going. It feels like hours before the van finally stops moving. I feel the van door open and
Dallas grips my arm again, not so tight this time.
“Can I ask where we are?” I ask with clear worry in my voice…what the hell did I get myself into this time?
“You can ask all you want, but the only thing you need to know is that there is no one around that cares if you scream. Oh! Also just know that if you try to escape you won’t make it to the edge of the woods.” I just looked at him for a moment and when he starts to fidget under my stare, I speak,
“I said I wouldn’t run, I said I would go with you willingly, so why would I try when I know that you could and would easily kill me without a second thought? Why would I put myself through running aimlessly through the woods where anything could injure or kill me when I know I will either just end up dead or back here? You seem to think I’m stupid but you’re the one who brought a ‘kidnapped’ woman to a cabin near a small town full of hunters and farmers that wander the woods daily.”
I see the anger flaring in his eyes and immediately feel the fear wash over me.
Without a word, he grips the back of my neck and walks me quickly into the house. It is huge and I can’t help the look of adoration on my face. I glance over at Dallas and his face is
smug, he seems happy that I am impressed. ‘Why the hell does he want to impress me? I’m just his captive, right?’ But I’m quickly ripped out of my thoughts when he thrusts me towards the big staircase on the left side of the large ground floor family room. As we start up the polished, wooden stairs I don’t have much of a chance to process my surroundings.The only thing blatantly obvious about it was that everything here was very expensive, and yet, nothing seemed to show any form of personalization to the decor.
We arrive at a plain wooden door, just like all the other ones we passed before but, as we approach it I get a deep sense of dread. Tears spring to my eyes and I can’t control them as they stream down my face. I try to muffle the sobs but he hears them anyway and looks over at me sharply,
“What the hell? I haven’t even done anything to you yet!” I try to stop but, for all my efforts, I simply start to cry harder.
“Please! Please don’t put me in there!” I freeze in place, only capable of shuddering as sobs wrack my body. He looks at me, extremely confused,
“I haven’t even opened the door yet, you have no idea what’s in there…I don’t really see why all these tears are necessary for putting you in your room…” I can’t explain what
I’m thinking but in the hopes that he will hear me out I try desperately,
“Please, I don’t want to go in there. If I go in there I might never leave again. Please don’t put me in there! Keep me with you, or let me wander the house, I won’t leave! You know I won’t!” I’m begging now, I can’t let him put me in that room without at least trying to make him understand.
He stares at me for a moment, taking in my tear-stained face. Then after a moment of thought opens the door. He doesn’t push me in, simply lets me look. The room is full of bright pinks and fluffy pillows, nothing I can hurt myself or anyone else with remains, but the room was still beautiful. He moves closer and puts his arms around my stomach as we stare at the room together. In the first act of affection he has shown me so far, he kisses the top of my head lightly.
“Go on.” He whispers and he obviously feels me stiffen again, I still couldn’t go in there.
“Oh please…” I whisper back but he nudges me forward again and reluctantly I go into the room. He follows me in and walks me over to the bed. We simply sit down next to
each other until finally, he speaks,
“This will be your room.”
“But-” I try to resume my begging but he covers my mouth with his hand and continues,
“This will be your room and you will grow to love it. This is the one place I will never punish or hurt you. When you are in this room you will only see affection from me.
However, I see how worried you are and for that, I will give you an option.
Your first option is to remain in here until I call for you and you will be left alone and not bothered until I want you with me. Your second option is that you can come with me,you will have on a leash and a collar and you will follow behind me on your hands and knees unless instructed otherwise. Whichever you choose I will respect those wishes however, either way, you will be sleeping in my bedroom tonight.” He gives me a moment to process his words and my options run through my head over and over.
I quickly make up my mind, I kneel down in front of him and bow my head.
“I want to go with you…please…” He looks at me seemingly unsurprised. He walks over to a high cabinet while pulling a set of keys out of his back pocket. He unlocks the cabinet and takes out a black case. From inside the case, he pulls a diamond-studded collar.
He places the case back into the cabinet and relockes it. Then, he turns back to me with an apprehensive look. He walks back to me and I look back down as he approaches and with shaking hands he puts the collar on me, checking it for snugness. As the cool leather touches my neck a strange feeling flows through me which no words in the world can
explain.
Dallas takes a moment to collect himself as he straightens and clips the black leash onto the collar. Breaking the powerful silence, he speaks, now in a slightly huskier voice.
“You will remain immediately behind me and keep up. I will be patient to start out but you must learn quickly, as you can tell I obviously don’t have incredible control on my anger.” He says the last bit almost ironically. I don’t dare reply verbally, I simply put my head down and relax my muscles willing him to do the same. After a moment he gives in and relaxes, the annoyance draining slowly from his features.
He takes a deep breath and starts walking. As we approach the stairs I start to worry slightly at our pace but, as promised, he is patient with me as I figure out how to move my various limbs down the stairs. Once at the bottom, we resume our pace. We slow slightly again as he lets me take in my surroundings. The room is beautiful, but as I look around more closely I realize that there is not a single picture or personal touch to be seen.
It looks more like one of those rooms used on a t.v. set, not someone’s home, not a place that has been lived in and cherished.
We continue through the room and into a hallway opposite the staircase. On both sides of the hallway, there are bookshelves covering the walls from floor to ceiling, breaking only for the doors inset into them. I catch a glimpse of some of the titles as we pass, the books range from children’s books to adult novels and encyclopedias. It is very obvious
that these books have been well worn, unlike the rest of the house, but also have not been touched in a long time. Finally, Dallas turns into one of the dark rooms and switches on the light. The room is very neat and organized. It seems like some sort of an office or drawing-room. I glance around quickly but when he turns and stands in front of me I instinctively lower my eyes and remain perfectly still. We stay there silently and after what seemed like an hour, but it
couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, he finally turns around to the large bookshelf behind him and scans the shelf. Seemingly finding what he is looking for, he reaches for a large, red book and pulls on it.
My eyes go wide as the enormous bookshelf opens like a door and behind it is the scariest thing I have ever seen. I knew places like this existed, I had read about it in great
detail before. But I never thought that I would be in this position, walking into a real dungeon on my knees as a kidnapped slave. This, right here, is where the extent of my situation finally settles over me. I am a slave. My ‘master’ can do anything he wants to me and there isn’t a damn thing I or anyone else can do to stop him…