Property of Black

CHAPTER FOUR

I think whoever snatched me up just wants me to die a slow, painful death. My lips are so parched, and my mouth feels like I've sucked on a hundred cotton balls. I am so hungry yet, the overwhelming urge to vomit encompasses my being. I keep waiting for something to happen or someone to come in, but nothing does. It is like I am in a complete and absolute void never to return 'home.'

I am now on the verge of trying out my voice to see if I can start screaming yet. Before I even get my lips opened a centimeter, the door to my prison is being unlocked and opened. My abductor, I presume, strides into this waking hell I am in, and it seems like I should know who he is. He is very familiar looking. He is a few inches taller than six feet with hard sculptured abs. His shirt is so tight it leaves nothing to the imagination. His face is very chiseled with a prominent bone structure to it. He walks in and stops a couple of feet in front of the bed I have been confined to for how long, I don't know. He has short dark brown hair that would be curly if it were longer and these luminescent molten chocolate brown eyes that scream power, lust, anger, and interest all at the same time. I want to run away. I feel scared, yet his eyes are drawing me into him. I blink to collect myself and try to say something. I guess it is a good enough time to see if I can speak yet.

Before I even let out my breath, he juts his arm out in front of him and holds up his hand as if to stop me from speaking. I wait. He walks closer to the bed and sits down next to me and gently caresses my cheek. I liquefied from his touch. I know who I am looking at now. The guy from my class that sliced my back. His touch still feels the same as it did that day, still electrifying my body. I feel a disgust wash over me. How can his touch do so much to me? His touch turns me on, repulses me, sends shivers through my back and goosebumps of fear into my being. So to make it all stop, I decided to break down and cry.

He just sat there wiping the tears off my face with his thumbs and then he would lick his thumbs as if my tears were a delicacy. Finally, I calmed down. My silence turns his silence into speech.

"You are wondering why I took you. Am I correct?" He states in his slow husky drawl. Once again, I open my mouth to speak, but he quickly covers my mouth, so I am not able to answer him. "I don't need an answer, my little rag doll. Your voice is still going to sound rough for a few more days, but by then, you will be in my control." He gave me a sickening grin that twisted my insides up and made me want to curl into myself. The chains would not allow me to move in any way to retreat. I am opened for display. I would be crawled up in a ball trying to hide from him. Wait. Did he just say under his control?? What the hell is that suppose to mean? He must have realized exactly what I thought because he began to answer my unvoiced question.

"You are mine now. You will be possessed and used by me and me alone. Nothing is yours anymore. I own you: body mind and soul. If you disrespect me or don't obey an order I give to you, you will be punished according to the severity of your disobedience. If you understand use your right hand to make a fist if you do not make your left hand into a fist. Do you comprehend this, my rag doll?" His voice is overpowering, robust, aggressive, and authoritative. I was so scared I could barely blink. Thus I couldn't even get my brain to tell one of my hands to conjure up a fist. He then bends down looks at both sides and then does the unimaginable, he slaps me on my c**k! What the f**k? I tried screaming, but as he said all I can still do is squeak.

"Do you not understand anything? Right fist yes, left fist no." He says in a perfectly calm tone like he didn't just get upset with me and hit me in my private area. Oh, my God. Right hand, I squeeze together first. Then I reran the question he just asked through my muddled brain cells and pulled together the fingers of my left hand. As my mind is trying to figure out what is going on, I hear his hearty, robust laugh. I looked up, shocked.

Just as before he is answering my unspoken question. "My pet," he voices to me, "do you understand what I said when I told you that you are mine? Your body, mind, and soul are for my pleasure. Whether the pleasure you bring to me causes you agonizing, wretched suffering is no matter to me. Anything I may give to you is still mine. If I deem you do not deserve it anymore, it is gone. Your lips are mine. Perhaps, I may want to kiss the chapped, brittle lips one day. But, most likely I will bite and gnaw on them until they are a bloody pulp " He leans down and seizes my lips with his just for a brief moment. "Your n*****s are mine. I will chain them. Place clamps and weights on them to make them swell and bruise and then suck them so hard your screams will reverberate throughout my home." Once again, he leans over and licks my left n****e to get the little nub to stand up and then bites down quite hard on it.

I groan out as that prick looks at my eyes and never releasing his gaze from mine, he adds, "your d**k is mine. And I am not going to tell you the torture it will endure and the amusement my soul will feel in giving your suffering baby c**k endless misery." And proceeds to give me a couple of strokes up and down my shaft. Holy hell. I am rock hard, feeling like I am going to c*m. As soon as I was ready to explode his hand stopped moving, he looks down at me with a smirk and says, "Your orgasms are mine. I tell you when you can come and when you can't. And it goes without saying that I will be informing you of when you can bathe, s**t, piss and eat. You no longer have a name. You will be referred to as pet, rag doll, mine or if I think of something else I may start calling you that. You never, and I mean never talk back to me. You will only say 'Yes, Master or No Master,' unless I say you can speak. Do you understand so far, my pet? Remember right hand, yes, left no." He concludes with a deranged little smile forming on his lusciously plump lips and lust oozing out of his eyes. All I think is I am now a s*x slave. His s*x slave. I close my eyes as tears fall, but I clench my right fingers together to answer his question. Even though the urge to punch his slimy face pulses through my brain.

I've been living in this tiny dwelling for a little over three days to my best estimate. I just count the meals the kidnapper gives to me. The food is okay. Nothing special. I usually get this spicy oatmeal with milk and juice in the morning. No caffeine, he says as it affects people's senses. Well, I've never heard of that before. But who am I to argue, since I am the one chained like an animal.

Lunch and dinner are relatively similar. Dinner is larger than lunch. I get Grilled chicken with a small amount of pasta and sauce and carrots, milk and juice or ratatouille with a small piece of bread, no butter, yuck. How do you eat a dry slab of carbs without butter? He also gives me grapes, an orange, or an apple if he is in a decent mood. I wish I could figure him out a bit better. Or maybe just escape this lonely, painful hell.

I can not figure out the days because there are no windows or clocks in here. That thing that keeps me imprisoned says since I don't have a say in anything that happens to me, there is no need for my brain to worry as to what day, month or even year it is. Years? I can't imagine living like this for years. He says there are a lot more rules he needs to teach me, and I think I've just about had it with his regulations and 'discipline.'

Some of the rules he has told me so far, in my opinion, insane. One is that since I am not allowed to touch myself and he doesn't know if I can hold back, that I will be wearing some sort of device on my p***s. Something akin to a chastity belt, but for guys. It is a horrible device. He put it on me yesterday, It looks like a cage with thick steel going up my c**k like rings then a steel piece that goes behind and in front to hold it in place. Also, there is a c**k ring he put on me that has a damn padlock to it. And he locked the two together and walked out of my prison leaving me here without anything to do but wait for his return. Oh, one more thing about this jail for my dick... I have to sit down like a girl to take a piss since it holds my d**k down I can't grab it and position it correct for peeing.

Another ridiculous rule is that I am to be nude 24/7/365. Unless 'his majesty' decrees otherwise. He has the right to enjoy my body. Pftt. What nonsense. I have to get out somehow. I don't know how, though. Oh did I mention he has a collar around my neck now and ankle and wrists cuffs on my appendages? So I am chained by these huge bands of leather with chains clanging all the time. I can't make it to the door or the bathroom.

These couple of days have been horrifying. One day I had to pee so badly that I couldn't hold it until he came to get me. Needless to say, when he did come to retrieve me, he was not pleased. He uncuffed me from the chains in my little nook of the world now and strapped a leash onto a ring on my collar and walked me down (instead dragged me) since I was not keen on going anywhere with this psycho to another room. A room so scary I thought I was going to pass out. Before I could look everything over, he had me chained all spread out on a St. Anthony's cross. Before he started doing anything, he came up close to my ear and said this punishment is for peeing on the floor and not heeling to me as we walk. That just meant walking one pace behind him without resistance. He proceeded to whip me until I passed out. Maybe even after I passed out, he beat me, but by then, I was gone. Today the pain is excruciating. He hasn't been in this morning, maybe morning? I have not gotten breakfast yet. But who knows? Who cares. No one apparently since I am still caged.

Daydreaming my day away, I hear the door unlock. In walks my tormentor. Master. I hate to even think of him as my master. I don't even know his real name. But a second after he steps in the room I hear another guy's voice and I freeze. I know who that is. Cole. He saunters in, and I take a peek at him. He is a touch shorter than his buddy here, with these fierce green eyes that just cut through you. Then I remember what the problem is. As soon as he comes in or anyone else for that matter I am supposed to drop to my knees, open my thighs as wide as possible with my feet together, push out my chest, have my head up but my eyes are cast down, and my hands behind me clasp at the small of my back.

Oh boy. I am in big trouble now.