Taken, Kissed, and Loved [FREE and COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

Christina washed her mouth and grabbed the toothbrush again, for the fifth or sixth time. How considerate of him to put one in the cell, she thought ironically, trying to avoid looking at herself in the tiny mirror. Was he expecting she would need one, planned this from the start? It didn't seem so. Yes, he was already angry with her, but something she said must have turned that anger into rage. Guess she was lucky this was all he did to her, she thought, trying to find something positive in this shitty situation. Yes, it could have gone way worse. Her mind rushed in with images of her being brutally tortured, left on the ground bruised and bleeding, waiting for a mercy shot to end her suffering. Wow, she had no idea she had such a vivid imagination. But compared to that, being forced to suck a d**k and left with a weird aftertaste that just wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she had brushed her teeth was really nothing.

“Still counts as rape though,” she sniffled as if someone cared about that around here. You really need to keep your mouth shut next time. She didn’t want to resist him, it was just the absurdity of those accusations against her father. Murder? Seriously? Her father had the kindest heart. Sure, he could be hard on people around him, very focused and demanding, and had strict rules about pretty much everything. But Christina understood the rules were there to help her grow up to be a good and capable person. Funny thing though, when it came to Michelle, most of the rules went flying out of the window. Classic younger sibling case.

She spat out the toothpaste and washed her mouth again, finally glimpsing at her reflection. The girl in the mirror was deadly pale, Christina barely even recognized her tear-stained face. Her tongue felt her teeth, cleaner than ever, but that strange itch, the feeling that something is in her mouth didn’t go away. Christina was certainly not a virgin and this was not her first blowjob (although it wasn’t very far off) but nobody had ever forced her to swallow before. Considering the circumstances, it was not as bad as she expected it would be. At least he was clean and shaved down there. She remembered a random guy she met at a party and almost ended up in bed with. The smell that came out when he took off his underwear was… well she had to run out to avoid throwing up all over him.

Wow, give it a few hours and you are going to rationalize the whole thing into “nothing bad has happened”, some inner voice snapped at her. Maybe you should thank him for raping you.

“Oh shut up,” Christina whispered and frowned at the mirror girl who frowned back at her. She was just trying to stay positive to avoid panic taking over.

The paper she had to read was still on the bed. She picked it up again, purely to keep her mind occupied with something other than replaying the past minutes and coming up with ideas on how much worse it could get. It was just as nonsensical as when she saw it the first time. How could her father even respond to such ridiculous demands? Should he confess to some imaginary crimes to save the lives of his daughters? Even if it later proved false, it would seriously damage his reputation, social standing, business contacts. Maybe that was the point? Was this all just an intricate plan made by his competitors to destroy Peter Anderson so they could take over his business?

It was the only explanation that made sense, yet Christina didn’t believe it. The anger in her captor’s eyes was real, it was not a ruse. That man truly believed her father murdered someone. She winced when the door clicked and opened but it was just a red-haired woman bringing a tray with some food, putting it on the table, and leaving without saying a word. When Christina’s heart stopped racing, she turned back to the paper. The thought of eating made her stomach turn.

Denning. That name was familiar to her, although she couldn’t place it. She had no idea who Christopher Lowe was, or why her father would have any reason to murder him. Even in her mind, those words sounded ridiculous when put together like that. The last name mentioned gave her the chills. Joan Blackwood. Christina knew her, not very well but they had met a couple of times before she disappeared. Joan’s father was an inventor, one of those wacky crazy scientists you see in the movies. The money from his patents has provided them with a very comfortable life. All until Joan disappeared mysteriously, kidnapped right from the street, in broad daylight. The police, the FBI, private investigators, nobody ever found any trace of her, supposedly the kidnappers never even sent any ransom notes. Her father buried himself in his work, disappearing from public life.

Thinking about Joan only supported Christina’s fear that had been spreading its cold emptiness inside her. Unable to hold off the tears anymore, she hid under the blanket, curled up, and cried herself to sleep.

When they came for her, she was still a bit drowsy but getting her hands tied, being blindfolded, and dragged through the hallways woke her up completely. The red-haired woman pulled off her blindfold and Christina gasped in horror when she saw a long rope hanging from a sheave on the ceiling. They wouldn’t… hang her, would they? A big blonde man pushed her closer while the woman grabbed the end of the rope. Christina knew she should at least try to run or fight, but felt paralyzed. The redhead attached the rope to ties on Christina’s wrists and then pulled the other end, forcing her arms up, leaving her to balance on the tiptoes. The two of them set up the camera in front of her and then left the room.

Her heart was pounding so loud anyone in the building must have heard it. Christina tried not to think about how incredibly uncomfortable this position was or what was that man going to do to her next. It would be him, she was sure of that. At least Michelle wasn’t there hanging next to her, that was the only thought to draw comfort from that she could come up with.

Of course, it was him. His head tilted to the side slightly as he watched her. Don’t look at him. Don’t say a word. Just agree to whatever the hell he says. “Where is my sister?” Her voice was quiet and trembling but she looked at him with resolve. What happened to not saying a word?! The voice inside her head sounded reasonable but she still decided to ignore it. “I…,” she swallowed the word ‘want’, “would like to see her.” His eyes narrowed and he slowly walked closer. “Please,” she whispered and lowered her head, knowing she screwed cardinally again.

“Hmm. So you do know how to say that word. Well, I think you’ve earned one wish granted.” His voice sounded surprisingly normal, especially compared to the angry growling from yesterday. He fished out a phone out of his pocket and played with it for a few seconds. “It’s live.”

The screen hovered in front of her face, showing a cell just like the one she had just spent several hours in. The pink-haired girl sitting on the bed and frowning into the camera was unmistakable. A relieved sigh escaped her lips. Michelle was alive, looking unharmed. “Thank you,” she mumbled when he put the phone away after a few seconds.

He gave a surprised look but then shook his head. “So, now we got that out of the way, let’s get to business, right? You see, your father does not seem to be taking us seriously, I think he needs a bit more… incentive.” He rolled the word on his tongue, causing drops of cold sweat to pop around her spine. “Normally, I would send him a nicely wrapped finger to remind him what’s at stake. Yours, of course,” he added with a smirk. Was he seriously making fun of her while talking about cutting her fingers off? “But I think we can come up with something less radical and less… permanent.”

Don’t move. Don’t cry. She flinched and held her breath when he moved behind her and placed hands on her hips. No begging. Don’t give him that joy. He unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down, leaving her standing there in white lace panties. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek, making a wet stain on her shirt. No crying. She tried hard to control her breathing as he walked back to the camera. Really? Was he going to f**k her, record it, and send the tape to her father? What a sick bastard.

He pulled out a mask, one of those Halloween rubber masks that cover your entire head. This one depicted a famous politician, one of the former presidential candidates. Creepy. You can do this. Just close your eyes and wait till it’s over. But the next thing he took out of the bag on the ground suggested he wasn’t after s*x. At least not at this moment. Christina didn’t know if it was for the better or worse - the long leather belt hanging from his hand frightened her maybe even more than the thought of the imminent rape.

It can’t be that bad, right? Some kids get beaten up all the time and they survive. Christina’s parents never touched her in that way, so she had no idea what to expect, but decided she would handle it. Somehow. Especially since her father was going to see her. He despised weak people and she was going to prove to him she was definitely not weak.

Bring it on, you asshole.