Property

Plan

I woke up, feeling my shorts getting pulled off. I panicked and began to toss with my eyes now widely opened. I began to sob again, my wrists were raw and sore.

"Relax," he said. "I was just going to change you into sleeping clothes," he told me softly.

Tears were still leaking out of my eyes, looking at him with all the hate that I could weakly muster.

"In order for me to take off your shirt, we have to take off the handcuffs. Can I trust you?"

Even with the hate in my eyes, I nodded but still continued glaring. He sighed, unlocking the handcuffs. I immediately tried to soothe my wrists by rubbing them. They were red and horrible looking. He pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me to cross my arms over my chest in discomfort. I wasn't embarrassed, no, I was still angry.

He slipped an unfamiliar shirt over my head, his. His intoxicating scent wafted through my nostrils. My hand went to the tape on my mouth and his look stopped me.

"Did I say you could take it off?" He asked and I narrowed my eyes at him, challenging him. I wasn't about to start fearing him anymore. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

I began licking at the disgusting tape so that it didn't hurt so much when I yanked it. It still did, in fact my lips burned as I yanked it. A whimper left my mouth and I wiped them.

"Told you," he said and I glared at him yet again. "Get up, you're giving me a bath."

I didn't move a muscle. Was he out of his mind? He could do that himself.

"I said, get up."

"I don't take orders from you anymore," I said, my voice raspy. "In fact, you can go to hell."

"Get up."

"What are you getting out of keeping me here, Justin? You know this is illegal right? You can't force me to stay here forever," I smiled. "Plus, you have to go to work tomorrow, the joke's on you."

"Thanks for reminding me," he smiled. "That means I'll keep you locked up all day until I come home."

My face dropped as he climbed into the bed next to me.

"Why don't you just accept your role as my property and don't fight me on it?" He asked as I tried to stay as far as possible that I could away from him.

"Because I'm a human being, not an object," I whispered but I knew he heard me. I looked down at my thighs and brought my fingers together.

"You're right, you're not an object, you're my object. I own you, I can do whatever I want to you," he shifted closer to me. "You owe me."

"I owe you nothing," I hissed. "If you didn't want me to move in here, you didn't have to."

"She begged me," he said.

"I remember, and you still had the option to say no. So why didn't you? I could have easily moved in with her."

"She wanted you to have a better life; She couldn't afford to take care of you."

"If only she knew how truly sadistic and incompetent you are she would take me away quicker than you could blink. She is my legal guardian, after all."

"Was, up until you turned eighteen. So, now, you're living with me in this house where no one will believe your story." I tensed as he began rubbing my thigh.

"Don't touch me." I slapped his hand away. "Can you not see how fucked up this is?"

"No one is taking you away from me," he whispered in my ear making me shiver. "And you're not leaving, ever. Over my dead body."