Enchained (2 page)

Probably because ‘that crap’ worked. In spite of her sensible viewpoint, a familiar sensation stirred her up like a python’s uncoiling after a long sleep. To Jany’s dismay, the blunt images were arousing her. Had she been safe at home, lying on her couch, she would have masturbated. Gooseflesh rose over her body. Nipples erect, she watched the screen.

The plumber told the beautiful woman that he had to go somewhere else, and asked if she cared if his colleague finished the job in here. Of course she didn’t, as long as the job got done. As he left the kitchen without his tools, Sarah sat on the edge of the table, legs open, semen glistening on her face. A new muscular plumber entered the room. This one didn’t even bother with the sink.

Belt unbuckled, pants down, he shoved his sex into Sarah Conner’s pussy. It must have been a first time for her because she screamed her lungs out. She seemed to enjoy the big dick’s comings and goings so much, it was a wonder her sink didn’t get clogged more often. She would think about it now.

As the new plumber grabbed the beautiful jerk’s waist to bang her harder, Jany licked her lips. Gaze riveted to the screen, she gave up trying to control her body. Her nipples wanted to be twirled, her belly wanted to be stroked, and a light moistness seemed to come out of her.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Bad actors, no script whatsoever, and I feel like a horny teenager. Dear God, what’s wrong with me? It’s so hot in this room. Is there no air-conditioner?

The pretty jerk squealed each time the new plumber thrust his thickset pipe into her. Lying on the kitchen table, legs spread so wide a truck could have made his way into her dark tunnel, she started calling him names and demanding more, more, harder, harder. As the woman’s shouts penetrated Jany’s brain, her abductor entered the basement.

Without looking at the screen, he stood in front of her. Having no idea what he had in store for her, she should have been scared. But the plumber’s grunts of pleasure echoed off the basement’s walls, and she was too turned on for that. A single thought running in her mind, she cocked her head.
Move aside, pal, I can’t see Sarah and her handyman anymore.

He didn’t move an inch, blocking out her view of the characters on television. Jany looked at the white mask, wondering if he was smiling at her silliness. Well, why did he play that movie if he didn’t want her to get excited? A private game of his? In that case, he ought to teach her the rules.

The masked man reached out. When his middle finger moved toward her belly, all thoughts of plumbing fixtures left Jany. Incredulous, she watched the gloved digit as if caught in a slow-motion sequence. Yet, this was no Hollywood movie, no make-believe production.

Randy or not, she had no intention of letting him touch her. The mere idea of his latex finger on her skin repelled her. She wasn’t going to let him put his sterilized paws on her body. No way.

Disregarding the metal bands locked around her wrists as well as the binding chains, she leaped backward. Except that she didn’t move much. At the very best, she managed to stick her butt out a little, the rings biting her flesh in the process. Raising her face, she met his gaze. Under that white mask, she just knew he was smiling. She spat on him.

Her saliva hit the mask. The green eyes didn’t flinch, just kept on staring at her. Then he casually wiped the spittle with a gloved hand, as if she hadn’t treated him with contempt. Frustrated beyond measure, Jany braced herself for whatever was coming her way.

“What do you want with me?”

Without a word, the masked man turned around. He went to the cupboard where he kept jars of ointment along with porn movies and opened one of its doors. What else had he stashed in there?

Chapter Three

On television, Sarah Conner and the new plumber were still having a go at it, but she had wrapped her legs around his waist.

Unable to move, muscles tensed, Jany watched the masked man. Taking his time, not even bothering to turn the television off, he came back with an unmistakable object. Raising it to eye level, he switched it on.

The sex toy wasn’t shaped like a penis. Light blue, elliptical, about four inches long to fit the batteries, topped with a small dolphin, the dildo purred. Lips dry and tight, Jany stared at the vibrating dolphin. Now that she knew what was going to happen to her, she wished she had let her abductor touch her. She might have fought off a finger, but she had never been able to resist that kind of dildo. Not a woman on this Earth could.

God, help me, he’ll get what he wants. He turned me on with that crappy movie of his, and now he’s gonna finish me off without breaking a sweat. That’s too easy, that’s not fair. I should file a complaint.

The masked man slowly lowered the blue dildo, aiming for the inside of her thighs.

No, don’t do that. Please don’t.

Rattling the chains, Jany tried to bring her legs together. Her non-move seemed so useless, she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Instead, she moaned as soon as the stimulating dolphin touched her clitoris, already knowing she wouldn’t last a minute.

Cheeks hot, angry and ashamed to let a total stranger give her pleasure, a stranger she couldn’t even see, she submitted herself to his desire. Head down to hide her embarrassment, her whole body quivered when the dildo settled on her excited flesh. But the masked man wanted something else.

Gripping her chin with his free hand, he raised her head, forcing her to look into his eyes. His hold on her was too strong to break. She could have looked away. She didn’t. Somehow, his emerald gaze mesmerized her.

Then a harsh moan escaped from her lips as the vibrating dolphin titillated her clitoris, efficiently rubbing her flesh. Behind the mask, his eyes narrowed when her grunt of pleasure resounded in the basement. Keeping a firm hand on the sex toy, he moved close to her ear.

“Come for me.”

Only a whisper, and she did come for him. As the dildo extracted a long orgasm from her body, she cried her pleasure. Panting and moaning, she barely noticed he had put the toy on the nearest shelf, allowing her to catch her breath. The buzzing noise having stopped, the new plumber’s grunts reached her ears again. In all likelihood, Sarah Conner was more resistant than her.

Vision blurred, Jany watched her tormentor switch the television off. No need for porn anymore. Then he replaced the DVD in the cupboard and the Vaseline jar along with the dildo on the middle shelf. A neat man indeed.

I’m thirsty, I’m hungry, I’m tired. What time can it be? I stayed at work late tonight, I left the store just before closing time, I was out for a while, I bet it’s around eleven o’clock. How long am I gonna hang here? What’s he gonna do? What’s on his mind?

She didn’t have to ask. Grateful, she drank the water he gave her before leaving her alone once more. What was she supposed to do? Shout for assistance? She had the funny feeling nobody would hear her desperate cries. She pictured herself bound in chains and yelling for help, but the image struck her as wrong. The image or the word “desperate”?

He came back too quickly for her to ponder more about her situation. This time, he carried a large plate, delightful smells wafting past her. Her stomach grumbled. Her mouth watered at the welcome sight of buttery mashed potatoes, peas, small onions, and roasted chicken cut into small pieces and soaking in a brown sauce.

Food, I need food. He’s got to release me now. I can’t eat with my hands tied. Dear God, I don’t care if I’m becoming his willing captive, his sex slave, or whatever he has in mind. I just want to eat.

He fed her like a baby. She swallowed every spoonful, ravenous, until she had emptied the plate. The food was delicious, filling her to satisfaction. She drank again as he brought the glass to her lips. Behind the white mask, the green eyes seemed a shade darker. Putting the plate down on the carpet, he took the small key from his pocket.

Damn, he’s gonna grease me like a pig again. I don’t need ointment, I’m fine. I wanna get out. Could he be…? Is he setting me free?

He bent down, and the metal rings around her ankles fell open. He moved to release her wrists. With a loud noise, the chains just hung loose. The masked man pointed to the place situated behind the high, packed bookshelf. The part of the basement Jany hadn’t yet seen.

What could she do? Knock him out and run outside in the buff? The guy was twice her size, her clothes were nowhere in sight, and besides, she had never taken kickboxing lessons.

Play it cool, girl, play it cool. Your time will come. At some point, he’s bound to make a mistake.

Brushing past him, very conscious of her nakedness, Jany took a few steps to discover what mysterious territory lay behind the bookshelf: a bed, a coffee table alongside a shower cubicle, and a toilet. Seeing the john, a sudden, urgent need demanded to be taken into consideration.

There’s no way I’m peeing in front of him. Shame doesn’t kill, oh yeah, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. I am
not
peeing in front of him. I’m sure he’s gonna watch me, just like he watched me come.

She recalled the vibrating, purring dildo in his hand and the firm grip on her chin as he lifted her face. Something inside her gave a little nudge. Was it the sex game they had engaged in, the fulfillment she got from a good meal, or the allaying feeling of being relatively free?

She couldn’t say, but for the first time since she had woken up in these chains, she wanted the masked man to look at her. She wanted him to feast on her naked body.

Taking a deep breath, Jany slowly walked to the shower before casting him a sideways glance. With a quick nod, he gestured to the contents on the coffee table: a new bar of soap, a full bottle of shampoo, and a folded, clean bath towel. Then he crossed his arms over his chest.

Sure he doesn’t talk much, but his meaning is clear, loud and clear. Oh well, I’m stuck in this damn basement anyway. Why not get cleaned up? I guess I’ll feel better after a good shower.

Grabbing the soap and the shampoo, she stepped inside the stain-free, white cubicle. Now in a hurry, she turned the water on to mask any incongruous noise and stretched her legs. Peeing felt like a liberation, much like uncorking a long-awaited bottle of French wine.

Tears in her eyes from the much-needed release, Jany let go of her pent-up feelings. Hot water raining down on her, soap all over her body, she washed away her frustration, rinsed off her distress and helplessness. Strangely enough, fear didn’t come up on her list.

She had no way to keep track of time, but she must have stayed in the shower for at least twenty minutes. Not bad for a single woman in her thirties. When she opened the cubicle door, he hadn’t moved at all. Standing tall and masked, arms crossed, he only approached to hand her the bath towel. Glad she kept her hair short, she was dry in no time, the room being warm anyway. When she was done, he gestured toward the bed.

Is it bedtime or fucktime, my friend? By no means, surprise me, although I know the answer. After chains, porn, and dildo, what’s it gonna be now? Haven’t we already tried everything?

She laid down on the crisp sheets. Watching the tall man come to her, her thighs and belly tingled in anticipation. Did she want him to touch her? Did she really think of having sex with him? Hiding his face meant he looked ugly or at the very least strongly not attractive.

Yet, the white mask and the latex, surgical gloves excited her. The mystery behind the mask requested to be solved. The green eyes called to her in the strangest way. More than a little aroused by her train of thoughts, Jany watched him kneel beside the bed.

Chapter Four

He retrieved long strings of rope from under the bed. Sighing, Jany let him tie her feet and hands to the four corners of the bed. Spread-eagled on the crisp sheets, she was back to square one, his prisoner again. Did he really need a bound woman to get his kicks? Were chains and ropes such a big turn-on for him?

To her surprise, he covered her body with a light bedspread before walking back to the basement door. On his way out, he turned the lights off. Then she heard the lock click into place.

Alone in pitch blackness, Jany pulled on the ropes to set her mind at ease. The ropes were without doubt secure. Pretty tired, she closed her eyes. Refusing to sleep just yet, she tried to estimate her chances of escape. So far, not very good. Quite poor, to be honest. If she couldn’t escape, she might be able to figure out his intentions and his motives.

Okay, let’s take this from the beginning. He drugs me to keep me locked in chains, but he doesn’t hurt me. Oh, boy, that dildo was something. He kidnaps me like serial killers do, but he takes good care of me. I bet he cooked that meal himself, too tasty to be frozen food. He hides his face behind a mask, yet he seems confident and self-reliant. He obviously brought me here for a reason, so why doesn’t he come out with it? Am I supposed to take a guess? Sure, I’ll give it a try.

Jany heard a muffled noise, a thud coming from the ceiling. So she was alone in the basement but not in the house. He lived upstairs. Had he taken his mask off now that she couldn’t see him?

Let’s focus on facts. He’s a silent man, but he can talk. He must live on his own because he’s very neat and clean. This basement is some kind of headquarters. He had everything prepared in here, well equipped to accommodate a visitor, more likely a victim. Yet, I don’t feel like a victim at all. How come I don’t feel threatened? Because in spite of the chains, he treats me like a guest. Hold on a minute. Who receives guests to give them a good orgasm in lieu of an appetizer?

Her analysis of the situation didn’t make much sense. Try as she might, she couldn’t work out the mystery. At any rate, her mind had drastically slowed down, turning her thoughts into fuzziness. Fastened to a strange bed, she nonetheless felt warm, carefree, and safe.

Jany woke up to a familiar smell. Bright lights on, the basement looked just as it had when she had fallen asleep. She couldn’t sit up, but she smelled coffee and saw the masked man carrying a tray. More to the point, she saw the basement door behind him. Open.

Today, he was wearing black jeans and a light brown, long-sleeved shirt. Couldn’t he feel the heat in this place? Well, she wouldn’t complain as she wasn’t likely to get her clothes back anytime soon.

He placed the tray on the coffee table by the bed. Black coffee, butter, marmalade, and croissants: her favorite breakfast. How did he know? Could it be a coincidence? As he began untying the ropes, Jany recalled her trip to Paris thirteen years ago.

Taking a break in the middle of her senior year at Berksons College, she had lived in Paris for six months. In the most romantic city in the world, she had learned to fall in love. He was a young artist, handsome, exuberant, passionate, self-centered, and broke. By night, he painted caricatures on the steps of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica in Montmartre. By day, he made eager love to her.