Seduced in the Dark

Seduced in the Dark by Cj Roberts




“I’ve been doing this a long time – manipulating people to get my way. That’s why you think you love me. Because I’ve broken you down and built you back up to believe it. It wasn’t an accident. Once you leave this behind…you’ll see that.” – Caleb





Chapter One





Sunday, Aug 30, 2009

Day 2:





Vivisected. It’s the only word I can think of to describe how I’m feeling – vivisected. As though someone has cut me open with a scalpel, the pain not sinking in until the flesh begins to separate and my blood bubbles out. I can hear the crack as my ribs are flayed open. Slowly, my organs, wet and sticky, are pulled out of me one at a time. Until I am hollow. Hollow and yet, in excruciating pain – still alive. Still. Alive.

Above me, there are sterile and industrial fluorescent lights. One of the bulbs is threatening to go out and it flickers, buzzes, and struggles to stay alive. I’ve been transfixed by its Morse code for the last hour. On-off-buzz-buzz-on-off. My eyes hurt. I keep staring. Following along with my own Morse code: Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Caleb. Don’t think about him.

Somewhere, I’m being watched. There’s always someone here. There’s someone to tug on my various cables. One to watch my heart, another my breathing, one to keep me numb. Don’t think about him. Cables. They extend from my hand, where I receive my liquids and my drugs. They wind from my chest to monitor the beating of my heart. Sometimes I hold my breath, just to see if it will stop. Instead, it beats harder and faster in my chest and I gasp for breath. Buzzzzz-on-off.

There’s someone who tries to feed me. She tells me her name, but I don’t care. She doesn’t matter. No one does. Nothing really matters. She asks me my name as though her kindness and gentleness will move me to speak. I never answer. I never eat.

My name is Kitten and my master is gone. What could possibly be more important?

In the corner of my mind, I see him, watching me in the shadows. “Do you really think begging is going to work?” asks Ghost Caleb. He smiles.

I cry. Loud, horrible, sounds come out of me, so violent they shake my whole body. I can’t make it stop. I want Caleb. I get drugs instead. The food comes through a tube while I sleep.

There’s always someone watching.

Always.

I want to leave this place. There’s nothing wrong with me. If Caleb were here, I’d walk out of this place, happy, smiling and complete. But he’s gone. And they won’t let me grieve for him in peace.





***





Day 3:





I close my eyes and open them slowly. Caleb is standing over me. My heart races and tears of pure joy flood my eyes. He’s finally here. He’s finally come for me. His face is warm, his smile broad. There is a familiar tilt to his lips and I know he’s thinking something naughty.

A familiar tingle spreads throughout my belly and creeps down toward my * making it swell and throb. I haven’t had an orgasm in days and I’ve become very accustomed to them.

“Should I let you go? You look so sexy when you’re tied down,” he says through a smile.

“I missed you,” I try to say. My mouth is unbelievably dry. My tongue feels heavy and dead in my mouth. My lips seem to have fared no better. They are chapped and when I scrape my tongue over my bottom lip, I can’t help but think of sandpaper.

The tube they have been using to feed me is crammed up my left nostril and fed down the back of my throat. It itches. I can’t scratch it. It hurts. I can’t shake it free. I feel it every time I swallow and it tastes of antiseptic.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says.

“For what?” I whisper. I want him to tell me he’s sorry for not telling me sooner…that he loves me.

“For the restraints,” he says.

I frown. He loves restraints.

“As soon as we can be sure of your mental state, we can remove them.”

This is wrong. Really wrong.

It’s the drugs.

“Do you know why you’re here, Olivia?” a woman asks, softly.

I am not Olivia. I’m not that girl anymore.

“I’m Dr. Janice Sloan. I’m a forensic social worker for the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she says, “The police were able to identify you from your missing person’s report. Your friend Nicole reported your abduction. We’ve been looking for you. Your mother has been very worried.”

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