Taken Ch. 07

All characters portrayed in sexual acts are 18+.

*****

My heart raced and my chest tightened, I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. I shook my head, but denying reality didn't seem to make it go away. He moved across the room quickly, I held my arms and curled my knees up to my chest in defense. But instead of pinning me he used the opportunity to kick me; I cried out when his boot made contact with my side. I rolled away but he kicked at me again, catching me in the stomach and I lost my breath. I curled up, holding my stomach and struggling not to vomit. Christopher kneeled and wrapped his hand in my hair, using a good handful he lifted my head back and tilted it so that I was looking up at him.

"I owe you for what you did to me Skye; it was a very bad idea to bite me. I may not be able to make you sorry about it, but I sure as hell am going to give you something to remember, something to make sure that every time you even think about doing something so stupid the memory will change your mind." He stood and started to rummage through his top dresser drawer. When he pulled out duct tape I felt a surge of panic again. Grinning he returned to kneel and grabbed my wrists. I pulled, trying to keep myself curled into a ball, he used his body to position me on my back.

"No! Don't make me fight you," I pleaded. I wanted to be good, I wanted Clyde to return and know that he could trust me. Only when I had his trust would I have any hope of getting out of here.

"Don't make your punishment worse, hold still," he growled. He straddled my waist, pinned one wrist beneath his knee while he held the other one and used his mouth to unroll the duct tape. Pressing my wrists together he began to wrap the tape around them. It was sticky, pulling all the little hairs on my arms as I struggled to get free. He continued to roll the tape around several times, each layer adding more weight and constriction. When he was satisfied he ripped the tape and sat back. Using my bound wrists I made a fist and brought both hands down hard and fast right into his stomach. Christopher grunted and I shoved him over and rolled to my knees to stand.

"Stupid bitch!" he swore as I made it to my feet. I didn't make it far, he grabbed my ankle and yanked it out from under me, and I collapsed, barely able to brace myself with my newly taped hands. He climbed back on top of me, only now I was on my stomach. He was panting as he tried to catch away the breath I'd knocked out of him. He grabbed the abandoned roll and tore off another strip, slapping it over my mouth.

"Don't want your screams to scare the kiddies." I tried to bring myself up on my elbows only to have him elbow me behind my head. He lifted my dress, revealing nothing but the long john underwear Clyde had given me. With more of myself exposed I pushed harder, but he was heavier than me. Holding my head down with one hand he leaned over and before I could figure out what he was doing I felt it.

Soft at first, but slowly I could feel his teeth sink into flesh; he took his time wanting me to feel it as he buried his teeth further into my skin. I screamed underneath my gag, but it was muffled and he bit down even harder, I could almost feel his teeth connect as sharp pain radiated up my back. It was quickly replaced by tingling warmth when he let go.

"Save some energy Skye, you're going to need it." He leaned forward and bit me again, this spot a few inches lower than the last. He only held for a few seconds before moving on to more unmarked flesh. He covered my back, my shoulders, neck, arms, even my legs with teeth marks and when he flipped me over I knew what was next. Using one hand he held my wrists above my head as he cupped my breast. Christopher watched my face intently as he started to pinch and roll my nipple between his fingertips, tugging ever so slightly. I swore and yelled but it did me no good.

He leaned his head forward; his tongue was cool against my burning flesh as he started to trace circles. My body responded to his touch as though it were the caress of an old lover and not the manipulations of my captor. I felt a tightening low in my body and that suddenly he bit down. The pain was more intense as he ground the sensitive flesh between his teeth. My back arched as I tried desperately to free myself from his grip, tears rolled down my face and I simply wanted him to stop. The intensity was overwhelming; it was at the point I would have done anything to make it stop.

When he finally let go he looked up at me and smiled, teeth stained red. I looked down to see a small thin river of blood trail down my breast. He ripped the bandage from his arm and shoved his wound into my face.

"Not so grand when it's your own flesh, now is it? Look at it Skye, it's going to scar, a permanent reminder of your disobedience. Clyde actually had to give me several stitches, and a few shots, keep me from getting infections from your dirty whore mouth." There was a circle with small puncture wounds in the shape of my teeth and in the middle was a few black stitches, most likely the place where I'd torn the flesh. The wound was red and bruised; he was right, it was definitely going to scar. I looked down, unable to see the damage, only the aftermath. He slapped me, shoving his arm in my face again.

When I didn't give the attention he wanted he grabbed my biceps and slammed me against his floor a few times, making me dizzy. He wrapped one hand carefully around my throat, squeezing hard enough that I could feel him cut the circulation off but not hard enough to cut off my air supply. Just as I'd start to see sheets of gray and white he let go. I could tell he was mad, livid still at what I'd done to him. He reached down and twisted my other nipple so hard I was sure he was going to tear it off. Than he started to slap me, the stinging of his flesh against mine was echoing off his walls as he marked me with his hand. He slapped my breast until it felt raw enough I was sure it had been scraped against cement.

I was sobbing, trying to beg through the tape but it was useless.

"I am a man of my word, so while I can't kill you, I can make you wish I could." He bowed his head and took my other breast into his mouth, I watched as he sucked more and more flesh and through his smile I watched his teeth bare down. I bucked and squirmed, I could see blood dripping down the corners of his mouth as he shook his head like a rabid dog. He licked his lips when he pulled away and ripped the tape from my mouth. I cried out but quickly quieted when he raised his hand to backhand me. He lowered his hand and grabbed my chin, meeting my gaze.

"Are you sorry now?" Not quite trusting myself to speak I nodded my head. He smirked devilishly.

"Good, that means we've made progress." He drooped down and kissed my cheek, tongue darting out to lick the tears that ran down my face. He kissed the corner of my mouth, his lips smooth and tender. My body shook with anticipation as I waited for the pain, but Christopher pressed his lips against mine and his tongue slithered out and tried to entice mine to kiss him back. I didn't respond and he kissed me harder, smashing my lips into my teeth until I tasted blood. He grabbed my lower lip and bit down, stretching it out he pulled until I screamed. His hand clamped down.

"Shut it," Christopher growled. He flipped me over, pulling down the long john underwear as he did. It didn't take long for him to unbuckle his pants and shimmy out of them just enough. I pushed against the floor and he bit down on my shoulder blade, a free hand wrapping around my mouth to quiet my screams. I tightened my legs together as I felt him press against me; his knee pressed into the back of my thighs until he parted my legs just enough and he didn't wait another second. He hammered himself into me, smashing his hips against me, his fingers clutching my hips so hard that I was sure his fingertips would leave bruises. I could feel delicate parts of my body tear as my I struggled to accommodate his size. I buried my face into my arms weeping silently as he satisfied his beastly need, shoving his shaft into me so hard my hips slammed against the wooden floor. He pulled my hair, called me names as he fucked my unwilling cunt. When he was finally fulfilled, I curled up against myself, feeling polluted and weakened.

He sat back and leaned against his foot board.

"Now, I am going to help you onto the bed, we're nowhere near done yet." He released me and stood, grabbing the tape around my wrists he helped me to my feet; pulling out a pocket knife he cut me free and I whimpered when he pulled the tape free. I rubbed my wrists as he pushed me to his queen size bed. Beside his bed was a simple nightstand with a small lamp. I shuffled closer, body filled with dread. I held my breasts in my hands, trying to ease the ache. The right one was already red and purple from where blood had burst to the surface but not quite through the last layer of skin. The bite marks were fresh and while the first one had stopped bleeding, the second one was bleeding slowly.

"Strip." He ordered. I shook my head.

"You punished me already, please no more," I pleaded, hoping to appeal to his merciful side. But staring deep into his eyes I was confident he didn't possess one.

"Strip." His tone implied he wouldn't say it a third time. Grabbing the hem of my hand sewn dress I pulled it up and over my head, noticing the stains of red, once it was free he ripped it from my hands and tossed it to the floor. Pointing at the long johns I shakily began to pull those down too, face aflame from embarrassment. I focused on breathing as rage boiled in my blood. Clyde said it would only be a couple days. I just had to survive until than; I could do that. I'd made it this far, surely a couple days with Christopher would be a walk in the park. When I stood there, naked and quivering he pushed me onto the bed.

"Into the middle of the bed, I want your back towards the headboard." I scooted across the bed, muscles crying in protest. Already I was so exhausted. Christopher grabbed some rope from his dresser and I grit my teeth in determination, I was not going to fight; I wasn't going to even give him the satisfaction of me begging anymore. He fixed his steely eye glare at me and motioned for me to hold out one of my wrists. I took a deep breath and did so; after tying it around my wrist he tied it to the headboard than moved across the room and repeated it with the other.

I pulled against my bonds, testing the strength, the harshness of the rope biting into my skin as I felt a feeling of helplessness wash over me. Reaching back into his dresser Christopher pulled out a small little black lock box. When he opened it, he pulled out what looked like a pen but on the end was small razorblade, like the kind I'd seen my sister use on her plastic models.

"What are you going to do?"

"I am going to make you bleed Skye. I am going to slice your skin over and over, leaving behind scars that will never fade." His voice became softer as he twirled the little knife in his hand. He approached the bed and I curled my knees against my chest.

"I don't think Clyde would appreciate that," I announced softly. Christopher tossed the lock box back into his dresser.

"I told him I will not kill you, which is all I promised. If he wanted scars to be left out, he should have mentioned that." He sat down beside me and I watched him weakly as he brought the tip of the blade against my forearm. A few inches down from my wrist he dug the blade in and at an excruciating slow pace started to etch bloody lines into my skin like he was painting a canvas. I looked away, the sight of more blood making me nauseous, I could feel the stinging burn of the sharp razor slicing through my flesh, and I could feel the tiniest of trickles run down the length of my arm, into my armpit and down my side. I wanted to scream, kick, move so that he couldn't harm me anymore; but with a sharp blade in his hand I didn't want to take the risk of him nicking an artery. Although part of me, a small part almost didn't care.

They were doing everything in their power to break me, and it was close to working. I could feel despair seeping into my mind. No matter how hard I fought, or how sharp my comments were, they always won. Even the youngest and smallest of the three overpowered me so easily; even the old lady spanked me like a disobedient child. Christopher lightly slapped my face to get my attention.

"No daydreaming now Skye, I want to see the pain in your eyes." I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"You can't make me watch; you can make me be quiet, you can make me hold still, but you can't make me watch," I argued.

"I could if I cut off your eyelids," he replied darkly. He dug the blade into my arm and I screamed; he didn't even try to cover my mouth this time. There was a sadistic gleam in his eyes. He twisted the handle and my vision faded into darkness.

When I woke I wasn't alone; Emily sat beside me, bandaging my arm. I tried to sit up and she placed a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down against the bed.

"Just relax Skye, Don't need you pulling any stitches." I looked down, there were multiple incisions, and most of the blood was cleaned up. He must have kept cutting after I'd passed out. I looked around and found it was just the two of us; I covered myself more with the blanket.

"We are both women here Skye, I had to stitch some wounds pretty high up on your thigh. I've already seen you naked."

"What happened?" I asked, feeling a bit groggy.

"Mama came to fetch Christopher; propane delivery man came early and he didn't lock his door, she wasn't aware of his taste for blood."

"What did you do? How did you learn to do stitches?"

"Clyde taught me. I've been his apprentice for 6 months now."

"I thought you weren't allowed more than a middle school education."

"Generally men in our community value innocent chaste women, I am neither. So I need to make myself valuable as a wife, and if I learn to practice medicine, I can help my future family. I am also learning veterinarian medicine." She seemed pleased with the idea.

"You're not a virgin?" The idea almost knocked me back.

"Christopher is ill Skye. He is very sick in the head, Daddy beat him bloody for what he did to me; tried to beat the devil out of him. It's why the whip gives Christopher flashbacks. But it only made his perversion worse; and I learned to keep my mouth shut." She lifted her sleeve slowly to reveal a row of multiple nasty scars. From an outside view they looked self-inflicted. I had a friend who went down that path. But having seen what Christopher done to me, I didn't doubt Emily for a minute.

"Do your brothers know what he did?" Emily pulled her sleeve back down and shook her head.

"And I beg you not to tell them; Mama doesn't want them to know. While I am the baby, he is the youngest boy."

"Where is he?" Emily actually smiled.

"Getting a whooping from Mama; while she thinks you need more discipline, but she doesn't agree with his sadistic nature."

"Some people are just born sick and there is nothing you can do about it." Emily looked away as she threw more gauze into the trashcan.

"He wasn't always this way Skye; he used to be a kind and loving brother."

"What the hell happened then?"

"One of Daddy's wives...he was teaching the boys how to discipline. Christopher cried...so Daddy made an example out of him, to harden him. That was a few

months before I was born."

"More proof that this life is wrong, I am sorry for what happened to you," I apologized. What I'd endured these last few days, I couldn't fathom enduring at the Emily's young age.

"I don't want to hear anymore please. Now let's get up; I'll help you finish washing off the blood downstairs." When I sat up I felt lightheaded and I almost fell right over, wrapping me in a sheet, Emily then wound her arm around me and helped me stand.

"How much blood have I lost?" I asked softly, feeling woozy as we slowly made our way out of his room and down the stairs. I gripped the railing tightly as she took us one step at a time.

"A pint or two maybe; I'm still learning; but I also pumped you with some morphine, in case you woke up while I was stitching."

"Thank you, despite being dizzy, I feel really good." I smiled, now that I was up and moving I noticed the lack of sensation in my limbs while I carefully made my way into the bathroom. Emily warmed some washcloths, and handed me one. She started to wash some blood that had stained my back. When I was clean and dry she gave me a robe and led me into the kitchen. Sarah poured me some tea and I just sat there and let the cup warm my hands.

"What happens now?" I questioned.

"You and I have a talk." Mama announced as she motioned the girls away. When the two of us were alone I felt on edge. Despite the effects of the morphine, which made me feel like I was swimming, I wasn't exactly in a condition to defend myself if Mama decided she wanted nothing more to do with me.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked bravely.

"While I think it would solve a lot of problems, present and future, no. Despite my best efforts my son loves you. No matter how hard I've tried to convince him otherwise, he doesn't want to kill you. I have a proposition, over this matter with Christopher. You will be staying with me until your husband gets home under the condition that you tell the boys these wounds are self-inflicted." My jaw dropped in disbelief.

"And if I refuse?"

"Thank you will return to Christopher's room and I shall turn my head to whatever he puts you through." I let her words sink in and I knew them to be truth.

"Is that what you told Emily to do?" I demanded.

"That is none of your business." Mama snapped.

"Isn't your job to protect her? Instead you're protecting your predator of a son." Mama slapped me and it stung.

"You have no right to give me advice on how to be a mother. Now, do you accept my proposition or shall I fetch Christopher to retrieve you?" Not much of a choice at all. Either deal with Mama, or let Christopher torture me for another 2 days. And deal with Clyde's reaction when I lie and tell him I sliced myself. What would he say? How was he going to react? Would I be punished? And if he discovered I lied? What would he do to his brother? Would he even believe me, if I told him the truth?

"I accept," I replied bitterly. I wasn't sure I'd actually survive if I returned to Christopher. Mama patted my hand.

"Good choice. Now I suggest you follow me and I'll show you where you'll be sleeping." I struggled to stand, leaning heavily on the table as I shuffled to follow Mama. She took my hand and offered her support. After the humiliating spanking I'd received the last thing I wanted was her help; but I took it because I needed it. We walked down the opposite side of the house and into a large master bedroom. Mama had a large four poster bed with white see through drapes. On the left side of the bed was a small night stand with picture of her and what I assumed to be her husband, a bible with a bookmark and a glass of water. The right side of the bed looked to be untouched; there was a pair of shoes sitting under the bed, awaiting a pair of feet that would never fill it.

There was a thick layer of untouched dust on the nightstand that held a coiled belt and a worn version of the bible. She glanced in the direction I was looking and sighed.

"I haven't been able to pack his stuff away," she confessed in a moment of vulnerability. I didn't reply, I had questions, I had comments but nothing seemed appropriate. She walked across the room and pointed to a bench in the corner.

"This is a day bed, at night you can remove those pillows and pile them up here. When you wake I expect you to make the bed back up and put them all back on neatly. I have no order really. Don't touch anything else. You can prepare your bed now." I began to stack the pillows where Mama had pointed and peeled the quilt back.