Captive

3: Now Beg

"Now beg again." He demanded. I raised my hair to look at him. He towered above me, making me feel so small and vulnerable. He was currently wearing grey checked pyjama bottoms and a black tank top. His muscular arms on show were a reminder of how weak and at his mercy I was. I assumed it was late at night. Each other time he had entered the room he had been wearing trousers and a shirt. Otherwise it was morning, but his lack of bedhead signaled not.

"Please may I have some food. I'm so hungry." I begged. He sat down in front of and removed the tinfoil from the plate. Initially I was upset that the Sunday dinner had been replaced by what looked like pasta covered in a tomato sauce. But as my stomach cramped with hunger again, the meal no longer seemed to matter.

"Nearly there." He commented. He raised the fork full of pasta to my mouth, and as I moved forward to take a bite, he took the fork away. My heart momentarily broke as I watched him place the food in his own mouth. I whined slightly, resisting the urge to steal the plate from his hands. That was my food!

"Please may you feed me." I begged again. This time I knew I had done well when his face appeared to instantly lighten up. I allowed him to feed me the first mouthful, and he continued to feed me whilst we both sat in silence.

Did it make we weak? I asked myself. Was it stupid to let him control this part of me? Or was it smart to give him some of what he wanted to ease my suffering just a bit? I think we all liked to believe that in these situations we would fight. If you asked me a week ago, I would of said exactly that. But is it really that easy when you are in situation where you have no power or control. With each bite of the meal I imagined launching at him. Fighting against him. However, he had strength on his side, a level I could not match. And even if I did somehow manage to overpower him, how would I escape a locked door? I didn't know what laid behind that door. It could be my freedom, or it could be an unimaginable hell that would make me long for the solitude within this cell. That the difficult thing about life, even if you had a choice, you never knew what the outcome would be.

When the plate was empty, and my stomach was nearly full, I watched as my captor got back on to his feet and made his way back to the door.

"I remember you." I said, breaking the silence. I wasn't sure what I was doing, I wasn't sure why I was even speaking to him. It just seemed better than the ear piercing silence and loneliness I would face once he walked through that door. "You were nice. Such a gentleman infact. Is it because I wouldn't go home with you? Are you just not used to being turned down?"

He walked back over to me and pulled me up from my kneeling position. He dropped the plate on the floor and wrapped his hands around my wrists. Before I could register what was going on, I felt my back hit the wall, and my hands pinned above my head. His face was inches from mine. Under different circumstances my knickers would currently be drenched in my juices. Under this circumstance they were just slightly damp. As his grip tightened around my wrists I felt my clit jolt with excitement. I tried to ignore it, but even I couldn't see some form of excitement in a guy as good looking as him this close to me. "The moment I laid my eyes on you I decided I wanted you. I didn't want to take you on cutesy dates to a mediocre restaurant, walk hand in hand along the beach, or spend my time pondering what was a socially acceptable time to call you. I wanted you. I wanted to own you. To make you mine." The more he spoke the harsher his words and grip became. I flinched with each word, turning my head to hide from his glare. When he finished speaking I regained the courage to look him in the eyes.

"I am not yours. I will never be yours. You can't just take me from my life and decide to claim me. That's not how the world works." I tried to shove him away from me, but his grip only tightened. The feeling in my hands was beginning to go, and I could already feel the bruises under my skin forming.

"We're not in your world anymore. We are in my world. You are more than welcome to fight it. I love nothing more than a feisty kitten." He moved my hand onto his crotch area. The thin cotton fabric of his pyjamas was the only thing separating my hand from touching his cock. I could feel how hard it was, as he ran my hand along it. Now I knew why I was here. He wanted me for sex. I grabbed his balls and squeezed as hard as I could until he yelled in pain. His hands instantly lost their grip on my wrists, and with all my strength I pushed him back until he stumbled and fell onto the hard stone floor.

Now what? I thought. I was in the exact position I had criticized just a few minutes earlier. As he regained his composure he lept towards me before I could dash in the opposite direction. He hand gripped on to my hair and pulled my head back as far as it would go. I screamed in pain, as I felt some of my hair being pulled from my scalp. By my hair he threw me into the wall. The moment my body hit the ground, he was on top of me, now pinning my wrists to the floor. His lips on top of mine, claiming ownership as his tongue fought its way in to my mouth. It wasn't our first kiss. Our first kiss was passionate and left me wanting more. This kiss was fierce and painful.

"Oh yes, I do love a feisty kitten." He laughed. His hands freed my wrists and moved their way to my top. I was still in the same low cut top I wore the night he took me. I heard the rip of the fabric, as his hands groped at my bare breasts. "But a kitty must be reminded of her place. The more she acts up, the less luxuries she has". Tears spilt from my eyes as I began to sob. He pulled down my jeans, leaving me in nothing but a pair of lacey black panties. With my clothes bundled in his arms, he left me laid on the floor. Once again darkness returned to the room as he walked out and locked my back in to my prison.