Captive

Chapter 19

Nathan spent the next month convincing Bridget that he had changed over the past fifteen years. She, on the other hand, went about with work, driving all over her region and sleeping in hotel rooms and selling medical supplies to perverted old doctors. Nathan sent her silly texts messages designed to make her laugh and respond in kind. Soon, the text messages transitioned into short phone calls, which became long conversations about everything they could possibly discuss. They started going out on Friday evenings after she left to the office. Every date was different and focused on something Bridget wanted to do. The young man originally had only one goal when it came to the woman with the red hair—he wanted her to give in to him with no coaxing. He craved her body just as he had when they were teenagers in the throes of first love.

Unfortunately for Nathan, Bridget was extremely cautious. She was determined to take her time, which frustrated her suitor immensely. He sat through dull romantic comedies, feigned emotion during sappy tearjerkers, and spoiled her with every stupid trinket she saw when they passed a window shop. Still, she would not allow herself to spend the night with him, explaining that she wanted to wait "for the right time." The constant dry spell left Nathan pursuing his usual high-end hookers; at least he was now able to have an erection—as long as he thought of Bridget, and even then he was not thinking about the sweet, innocent nymph falling in love with him. He thought of the withered prisoner locked away in his dungeon. He imagined her frail body strapped to that chair, her tits delicately rising and falling with each labored breath. He thought of grabbing her firm ass when she put her hands to a wall and spread her legs for a quick pat down after utilizing the restroom. She caused his blood to flow, and she was the muse that gave life to Nathan's loins.

The Bridget he courted did not arouse the same reaction and lust, but Nathan still found himself drawn to her. She was remarkably intelligent and approached the world with majestic wonder. Her compassionate nature was admirable, and she was a fantastic cook. One day, she would make a great wife and mother. He enjoyed spending time with her and actually missed her when she was away for work. He was torn between the wholesome beauty and innocence of his girlfriend and the sadistic longing he felt for his captive. He was further frustrated by the fact that he could have neither of the women in the ways he wanted. Still, he kept pushing forward, tormenting the original in her dark cell while wooing her facsimile over candlelit dinners. Nathan believed it would all pay off, but the reward was, at that moment, too far away to provide a clear image of what he would gain in the long run.

A little more than a month passed before Bridget decided to spend the night with Nathan. She, like most fifteen year-old girls, wanted it to be special, so she sent Nathan a text saying, I'm ready, but you have to make the first move. His hands trembled when he read the message. In his excitement, he set about arranging a weekend stay in a suite at the most impressive hotel in the city. He reserved a table at LeSol and purchased a lovely cocktail dress with matching shoes for Bridget, which he had delivered to her apartment. She visited a spa and painstakingly sat through a bikini wax before she went to a specialty shop to purchase lingerie. Bridget felt silly looking at the bustier and panty sets because she had no idea what to buy. Finally, a salesperson helped her locate something sexy that made her feel comfortable with her pale and lean frame.

Intense anticipation built as the couple waited for the weekend to approach. Bridget used her compensation time to leave work early that Friday afternoon so she could primp for the evening. She no longer feel nervous about having sex with him; she was more concerned that he would be disappointed. She was inexperienced in that department, and judging from his lifestyle, she assumed he had women falling at his feet. She took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror before applying her make-up. Why now, after all these years? Would she be everything he wanted her to be? Then again, he could be downright awful; the whole affair could be over in less than five minutes. She giggled at this sad image flouncing about in her brain. Surely, he was not that bad, and if he was, he had the money to fix the problem.