Time passed without measure, broken only by the two times he slammed his fist against the door, telling her to step back.

Always masked, he would hold the door open just long enough to set a sandwich down on the concrete, no more trays. Both times she huddled on the other side of the room, not interested in another clash. Both times he only glanced at her and then left in silence.

But at least he hadn’t touched her again, and she’d spent the unknown number of hours ripping herself apart for baiting him in the first place.

So fucking stupid.

She needed to avoid his attention, to wait for her father and Uncle Mike to find her and save her. With their resources it couldn’t be much longer, she just had to survive.

Since she had nothing else to do, she started to count the strange metal half-rings that stuck out of the concrete in various spots. Some in the floors, some in the walls, but soon she knew their number by heart, and it wasn’t changing — twelve. There were also eight cameras. Six lights in the ceiling, and two lights of a different style on each side of the television.

One water faucet, one toilet, with one drain in front of it.

One plastic cup that he’d left her.

One locked door, and one terrified woman.

Nothing else to count, because otherwise the room was empty, barren, the concrete strangely smooth and polished. After pacing for what felt like hours, one corner felt like the best place. The one across from the door, opposite the toilet, where she was unable to see the television if he turned it back on. Lianna sat with her back against one wall, legs against the other. It made her feel more secure, more stable. A small place as safe as she could make it that made the unending silence a little more bearable.

Then… the lights went out.

There was no stopping the scream that escaped her, but she bit down on it, cutting it short so she wouldn’t draw him back. Pitch black once again, nothing to see but the eight glowing red eyes peering down at her from the ceiling. Closing her eyes tight, she started to bite at her nails, anything to distract her, but eventually not even that helped.

Was she supposed to be sleeping? Was this some twisted form of bedtime?

Her eyes roamed the ceiling, trying to ignore the imagined shapes in the dark. The shadows blacker than black. They were imaginary, right? Shivers passed through her as she stared up at the little red dots, silently pleading for him to turn the lights back on. Then the one she was looking at turned off.

Lianna blinked, hoping she’d imagined it, but one by one the rest of the cameras started to wink out.

No.

She crawled forward, her breathing growing rapid as panic clutched her chest tight. “Wait!” she shouted into the black.

Five left.

“Hey!” Lianna stood up and waved her arms in front of a dot, shouting, but it winked out, and she spun around.

Three left.

Two.

“PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME IN THE DARK!” The scream was pure terror, and then there was only one dot, her eyes locked on it, praying under her breath for it to stay on.

Zero. None. Alone.

She instantly felt dizzy, claustrophobic, the perfect blackness making her mind warp. Was the ground tilting, or was that her? Was something crawling on her? In a panicked flurry she brushed at her arms and legs, winding her hair up and back, and then she stumbled towards a wall. She couldn’t tell which one it was, had no idea where she was in the room, but she followed it to a corner and sat down, pressing her ribs back against the concrete so she could feel somewhat grounded.

“Please, please, please turn the lights on,” she begged into the dark, breaking his rule for silence, her voice cracking as she cried. “Please…”

No response. Not even to her speaking.

There was nothing.

So much nothing.

* * *

It stayed dark for hours, for forever, or at least it seemed to… mind torturing her with imagined shadows. Each time her hair brushed her skin she jumped, whining into the empty space around her, shivering as her eyes started to play tricks. Flares of color that weren’t actually there, more shadows, she knew they weren’t there. Nothing was there, and she was losing it.

Fear of the dark wasn’t irrational, it was one of mankind’s oldest fears for a reason. No light meant you were vulnerable, it meant you were in danger, it gave the predators the advantage, and Lianna knew where her predator was. Outside the room, outside of the dark, waiting for something that she couldn’t figure out.

Not like it mattered.

She was already vulnerable, already in danger, and so she started to plead aloud. She begged in hoarse whispers for him to give her back just one camera light, anything real to focus on. Apologized for speaking, apologized for shouting at him — but there was no answer.

No change. Just endless black. Endless silence.

After too much time in the false night, too much time where she was sure she would really go crazy, she heard the door unlock. Beautiful, bright light suddenly flooded in and she wanted to run towards it, to bathe herself in the brightness, not even afraid of him for a brief moment — but then she saw the chain hanging from his bare hands. Heard it shifting as link rubbed against link.

Unconsciously she’d clambered to her feet and taken a few steps towards him, hungry for the glow in the hall, but now she was frozen. In the opposite corner of her safe spot, and he was simply staring at her from behind that damn mask. Her voice wobbled as he adjusted the chain in his grip. “Pl-please turn the lights back on?”

“What will you do for me if I do?” The question sent a chill down her spine.

“What do you want?” Lianna whispered, taking a tentative step back, and then he let the door shut. Darkness covered her again, only now it wasn’t just a random fear, an imagined shape in the black, now she knew the danger was real.

“I want you to come here.” The chain jingled in his hand as he started to walk towards her, and panic raced through her as she staggered backwards until she hit the wall. His heavy footsteps moved quickly, but she darted past him out into the open space. He growled, a hint of anger tainting his voice. “Come on, princess. Don’t you want the lights back on?”

“Yes,” she answered and then ran, his footfalls moving to where she’d been. A low laugh rumbled out from him when he didn’t find her.

“Come to me on your own and I won’t hurt you… much.” He started to pace the room, a predator hunting for her, but she stayed ahead. “However, if you make me catch you…”

Lianna covered her mouth, trying to breathe as quietly as possible as she inched along the wall, taking careful steps. He was big and he made noise when he moved, and not just because of the chain he carried. Every bootfall, every breath, seemed louder in the empty black.

“Last chance.” His voice was closer than she’d expected and she had to hold her mouth shut so she wouldn’t make a sound as fear wound like icy fingers around her spine. A part of her mind urged her to give in, to beg him not to hurt her, to simply submit, but that was the foolish, weak part — and there was no way in hell she’d listen. His movements were too close so she sped up, but with the next step her foot landed on one of the metal pieces embedded in the floor. A painful punch to the arch of her foot made her stumble and draw in a gasp as she scrambled to right herself.

Even as she covered her mouth, she knew it was too late. His massive form slammed into her, the breath leaving her lungs in a yelp. “NO!” she screamed, but he caught her arms as she tried to shove him back. In a moment, she was pinned between his hard body and the wall, and she screamed again, desperate to escape.

Weak. Pathetic. Stupid.

This was so much worse than being alone in the dark.

“Do you like running from me, princess?” He nudged her hair out of the way as his lips ran down her neck. “Do you like it when I catch you? Is that why you shouted at me earlier? So I would come?”

“No,” she whined and tried to break his grip, but he tightened his hold until the fine bones of her wrists creaked as he pulled them high above her head.

“Oh, I think you do like it.” Adjusting until both her hands were captured in one of his, he let the chain drop loudly to the floor beside her. His touch was like a live wire over her skin, making her muscles jump as he traced a path down her neck, over the swell of her breast, and down her waist. “Does it make you wet knowing I can do anything I want with you right now?”

“NO!” she shouted, but he growled and forced a knee between her thighs, spreading her until he could press her legs wide with his.

“Really, princess? Let’s see.” He swiped at her slit, dragging damning moisture towards her clit just before he roughly shoved two fingers inside her. Struggling, she screamed through clenched teeth because she was wet. She knew it before he even started to laugh, his breath brushing over her cheek. “Desperate little whore, I know you better than you know yourself.”

You are a whore.

You should be terrified, not turned on.

There’s something broken in you, damaged, fucked up.

Her own mind turned against her, a vicious inner voice that was somehow worse than the steady, sharp thrusts of his fingers. No gloves this time, it was his skin on hers. Her pussy ached when he finally slid his fingers from her and caught her chin, tracing her juices blindly over her lips. “Open up.”

With a violent twist, Lianna tried to break free, but his hips pinned her to the wall and he dug his nails into the skin of her wrist. The hard press of his cock behind his pants was impossible to ignore and she whined, hating him, hating her body for betraying her like this.

He slapped her, the sting making her gasp before she clamped her jaw shut as he grabbed her chin again. “I said open up, slut. I want you to taste just how wet you are. I want you to lick it from my fingers. I want you to realize that this is all spoiled, selfish cunts like you are good for.” When she tried to shake her head, he dug his fingers into her cheeks, prying her mouth open. “You’re going to obey me, princess, and if you bite me? I’ll do things to your body you can’t even imagine.”

A shudder passed through her at his words, wishing once again that she were braver. Brave enough to bite down, to spit in his face even though she couldn’t see it. But there was no mercy in him as he pushed his fingers in slowly, testing her, and she whined as he forced them to the back of her tongue, making her gag.

“Suck.”

She tried to plead around the invasion, unintelligible sounds, but he didn’t care. He was going to do what he wanted — and if she obeyed maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe she’d survive this long enough for them to get to her, rescue her. Sealing her lips around his fingers, she traced them with her tongue, cringing as she tasted herself.

“You’re going to have to do better than that with my cock in your throat, might as well practice now.” He thrust his fingers deeper, gagging her again, and she tried to pull at his hold on her wrists without success. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t fight me. Just accept it.”

Soft cries started to leave her lips as she struggled not to choke, swallowing the saliva that pooled in her mouth. When he pushed them deep again, she felt the drool spill past her chin, and she was thankful for the cloak of darkness.

Ripping his fingers from her mouth, he wiped them on her cheek slowly, smearing the wetness across her face as he rubbed a thumb across her lips. “On your knees.”

“Please don’t do this.”

He sighed and released her hands, grabbing her by the hair to force her to the floor in front of him, her knees bruising on impact. There was no point of reference in the room, but somehow she could still feel him towering over her, she could feel his eyes on her. “This wasn’t what I had planned, but since daddy dearest isn’t responding I need to send him some encouragement. It might as well be you deep throating my cock like the little whore you are.”

Not responding? Was he still overseas? Was he on the plane on his way home?

Flinching, she swallowed hard as she listened to him opening his zipper, desperate to avoid what she knew was coming. “He may not even have your demands, he was on a trip to Europe.”

“He has them.” The sound of fabric moving in front of her face made her whine, eyes tracing the empty ceiling. No cameras.

“Wait! Your cameras aren’t work—” Just as she started to speak the little lights came to life around the room, eight red eyes watching her on her knees. Clenching her fists she stared up at one of the red dots, tears blurring her gaze. “But, but it’s dark. This is pointless, they can’t—”

“Nightvision. Now open your mouth like a good girl. Make me happy and maybe I’ll give you something to sleep on other than the floor.” His fist returned to her hair and he pulled her forward, his hard cock brushing her cheek. “But, don’t forget, I already told you what happens if you use your fucking teeth.”

“What about the lights?” she asked anxiously as she reached up blindly to find the base of his shaft, moving her face away from it.

“If you want the lights back, you better make me really happy after you made me chase you.” He jerked her head forward, rubbing himself against her again in an unspoken command.

Her stomach roiled, and she wanted to shout at him, to tell him that he was the one who controlled the fucking lights and he could have turned them on and found her in an instant if he wanted to. He had been the one enjoying the chase, not her — no matter how her damn body responded. But, instead of screaming, instead of being brave, she parted her lips and licked at the head of him. He tasted like clean, male skin, the precum coating her tongue.

So normal for such an insane situation. Too normal. She squeezed her eyes tight, a ridiculous effort since she couldn’t see him anyway, but it made it easier to imagine someone else, someone kind, as she slid him deeper into her mouth. Moving her tongue along the underside, she started a steady rhythm while she stroked him with her hand, hoping he’d just get it over with.

For a few minutes he let her control it, barely shifting his hips as she worked him in and out, the only response the low groans from high above her head. Then his fist tightened and he thrust, knocking her head back against the wall. He eased back for a moment, and then on the next forward movement he pressed into her throat, choking off her air. Her hands went to his hips, trying to push him back, but he slapped one of them away and growled. “Hands behind your back. Now.”

As if to make his point, he forced himself into her throat again, pinning her head to the wall so that she couldn’t breathe at all, and then he held still. It took everything she had to pull her hands from him and fold them behind her back, her lungs burning, but finally he eased out of her throat and she tore air in through her nose. She had enough time for a few quick breaths, and then he was face fucking her in deep strokes, allowing her sips of air that kept her on the edge of panic, pleading wordlessly.

“You know your whimpers only make my cock harder, princess.” His voice was growling, but somehow amused, and she hated that she sounded so pathetic, whimpering and choking. Every hard thrust felt bruising, each time he held himself in her throat she whined low in her chest, uselessly begging for air. She couldn’t stop him, couldn’t fight him, and so as her head started to grow fuzzy, she relaxed and stopped struggling. It made it easier. It hurt less as he forced himself deep again and again, and he started to moan steadily above her. “Fuck, yes, now swallow.”

Another thrust and he held himself all the way in, her nose pressed to his skin as he came in jets. She swallowed as fast as she could, her lungs screaming for air, her nails digging into her hands so she wouldn’t try to shove him away. Finally, he pulled back and she felt drool running down her chin and chest as she gasped and coughed.

“Good girl,” he crooned above her, and then the lights came up by a fraction. Enough to turn the pure black into a dull gray as she flinched and looked up at him. “Beautiful.”

Heat flushed up her chest, scalding her cheeks, and she tore her eyes away from that tawny brown gaze. The lower half of his face was revealed, the mask pulled up to just above his lips. “Ple—” Her voice cracked as she tried to speak and she had to swallow. “Please leave the lights on?”

He leaned down as soon as his pants were put together, holding her chin hard as he tugged the mask back down. “You want the lights?”

With effort, she opened her eyes, meeting the furious intensity of his, and nodded against his grip.

“All right. Only because you behaved and put on such a good show.” Grabbing the chain from beside her he stood and walked towards the door. As he opened it wide, he paused and turned back towards her. “You know, I expected you to go for the door when I was chasing you. It was unlocked, but…” A shrug. “I think you like being my little whore.”

Standing up, she opened her mouth to shout at him, to curse him, but he lifted a remote in his hand and she froze. Not the darkness. Not again.

“That’s right. Behave.” He chuckled, a low and ominous sound. “Sleep well, princess. I’ve got another video to send to daddy dearest.”