E-Written: Elle

Rainelle tried to hold herself up and reach the clasp with her feet again. She couldn't reach that far with her arms or legs and if she let go with her arms, the clamp dug into her ribs painfully.

Her step sister thought it had been a hilarious joke, but all of her pranks were cruel. They were always the worst when she caught the boy she was dating looking at Rainelle.

This particular time, they were at a science conference with their father. He didn't usually make them go, but they were off for the last summer before they went off to college and he wanted them to come spend the week with him.

Well. He had wanted Anna to come spend the week with him and that meant Rainelle had to be invited as well. Anna had invited her new boy toy along and an hour earlier had caught him smiling at her. Anna was viciously jealous and she always made whichever boy it was help her with the prank to prove his devotion to her.

Today she had found the worst by far. They had dragged her to a simian testing room and locked her into a restraint around her waist that left her feet dangling. There were hand and feet restraints as well, but they had only locked her into the metal waist restraint, yanked her pants down to her ankles so she wouldn't yell for help and left her there.

Anna said she would be back in a couple hours. If she felt like it.

Five minutes in and the metal was digging into her ribs painfully, she had to brace herself on the shelf with her elbows and hold herself up. The restraint was like a metal shelf with a hole in it that slid shut around the subject.

She had considered yelling anyway, but couldn't force herself to call out. An hour later and she was trembling with the effort, her ribs had cuts from the metal and she had tears running down her face.

The door opened and relief flooded her. Anna was going to let her down!

No. It was a boy and he slipped in and shut the door as if hiding, holding himself there and listening for a moment. He backed up with a huge sigh and turned to look around, then froze when his eyes fell on her.

"What the hell?" he asked, confused.

"Please help me down?" she asked, her voice shaking. Could there have been a worse person to walk in than a cute boy her own age?

He rushed to her, then paused, looking at her between the legs, his face going red.

"Please?" she pleaded.

He shook his head and looked around, trying to find the lock.

"It's on the end of the shelf, that side," she prompted.

He hurried and unlocked it, then pulled on it.

"Wait! I will fall!" she yelled, looking down at the drop. It was a few feet off the ground and she had no graceful way to let herself down.

He hurried to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, the other hand pushing the shelf open more so he could ease her down.

She had to sit to fix her pants that were inside out and hanging from her ankles, which meant fighting to get them over her shoes too.

"Hey, easy, ok?" he whispered, going to a knee to help her. "What happened? Who put you up there?"

"My step sister and her boyfriend," she managed, finally getting her underwear up.

"Why?"

"Because she is mean and I shouldn't have come."

"Hey, calm down a little, you are hurting more than helping. Let me. Are... you are bleeding!" he breathed as tendrils of blood soaked the hem of her underwear."

"The metal shelf cut in."

"Why didn't you call for help?"

"So no one would find me like I was! See me... like that. She had to come back eventually."

"Jesus," he whispered, as she stood and yanked her pants up. "Let me see how bad it is," he said, pulling her to a table and lifting her onto it without asking. He lifted her shirt to her ribs and grimaced as he circled her. "It's the worst in the back," he said softly. "Hold on, there's probably things in here to patch you up," he said, going to the cupboards. "How did she get you up there? I mean, you are petite and all, but unless she is an amazon..."

"Her boyfriend helped her."

"Why would he do that? What kind of person thinks this is funny?" he demanded angrily.

Rainelle stayed quiet, her face red.

He came back with gauze and tape and lifted her shirt again. "Hold that up for me," he said distractedly as he began cleaning up her cuts.

"Why were you hiding?" she asked, trying to get her mind off of the stinging.

He paused and looked at her a moment, his face going red. He looked guarded. "Are... you joking with me or serious?"

"Why would I be joking?" she asked, confused.

He went back to tending her cuts, his face still red. "My name is Wynter," he said finally.

"Rainelle, but I go by Elle," she replied.

"Ummm. Wynter Hallan."

"Like, Richard and Marjorie Hallan, the..."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"They are both speaking at the conference. I thought... I don't know. I didn't think there would be so many... people. Girls. You know?"

"It is the Mighty Girls conference, putting STEM girls in the spotlight. Of course people would bring their daughters."

"Yeah. I got that."

"So... you are what, like a youtube celebrity or something? They all want an autograph?"

He paused again and looked at her guardedly. "Something like that."

"So you came in here for peace."

"Yeah. There you go, that's the best I can do. Is your sister going to be pissed?"

"Probably."

"I have a room across the street if you want to come hang," he offered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I should find my step dad," she said softly.

"Sure, yeah, no problem. You sure? About staying I mean. Is your mom here?"

"Uhh... no. It's kind of complicated."

"I have time," he said, hopping up on the table next to her.

"My mom was a single mom for years, then she started seeing Mike. They got pretty close even though he was gone all the time. She got real sick and asked him to adopt me and he did... After she died, that's when I found out he was married and had a daughter of his own. He moved me in, but it pissed Charlotte off and she took off. So Anna, my step sister, hates me. Mike isn't overly fond of me either, but I have no other family. This is the last week I have with them though, college starts in the fall and I am going early to find a job."

"That's... really fucked up. He just lets her torture you?"

"He doesn't really care. He is gone most the time, it's just her and I usually. And her flavor of the week."

"What about you? You don't have a boyfriend?"

"No," she said emphatically.

"Why so offended?"

"Not offended... just... I don't want anyone that ties me there at all. If I date I might like him and then it will be hard to leave. I want to leave with zero excuses to stay."

"I get that. So where is college?"

"Houston."

"Not too far then."

"Far enough," she sighed, her eyes far off.

"I think you probably shouldn't head back out there. She sees you slipped her 'prank' and she may try to find something worse. You should come hang. Really. No strings, just chilling till this is over. We can both hide."

"I should probably tell Mike..."

"Will he care? Honestly?"

She shrugged, her face turning red again.

"Come on," he said, hopping down and lifting her down too. "I can order room service and call up some better stuff to patch you up with. Disinfectant."

He pulled her out of the room, yanking his hood up as he did and keeping his head down. He led her out of the building and across the street to the huge hotel. He walked past everyone in the luxurious lobby and got on an elevator with his head down. Rainelle was looking everywhere at everything. Mike was well off, but this place was over the top.

He took her all the way to the top floor and into the room on the left. There were only two doors. He led her in and she was still in awe as she looked around at the huge living room with the doors leading off to the bedrooms and even a kitchen and dining room.

"All of this for just you and your parents?" she asked, spinning a circle to look around.

"Nah, they have the other penthouse suite, this one is mine."

"What do you even need all this room for?" she asked, confused.

"Privacy, really," he shrugged. He picked up the phone. "Want anything special to eat?"

"Not hungry," she answered, going to look at the kitchen area.

"Seriously? No lobster or steak or something?"

"No thanks. This kitchen is ridiculous! It's bigger than the one at home!"

She heard him talking on the phone as she passed through the dining room to an office area. There was a laptop open on the desk, but she ignored it as she went through to what looked like the master bedroom. There was a giant jacuzzi tub and past it, the large master bath. The bathroom was larger than her bedroom. She went back out to the living room and he was still on the phone as she looked in the other bedrooms. She came back out, still stupefied at the extravagance and the waste of one boy in this huge space.

He was off the phone when she came back out, kicked back with his arms across the back of the couch, watching her. "Come sit down," he said, motioning to the couch next to him.

She went and sat down in a chair across from him. "How old are you?" she asked, looking around again."

"Twenty two."

"What do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"For a living?"

He smiled. "I guess you could say I am a socialite."

"Is that a fancy way of saying you don't work?"

"I guess it is. And you are 18, I am assuming, since you are about to go off to college?"

"Yeah," she answered, distracted.

"Good," he answered, getting up. He went to a little side bar and poured two drinks, bringing her one.

"No thanks, I don't drink," she said, getting up and going to the window to look out.

"Of course you don't," he said with a sardonic smirk. "Pop then? OJ, apple juice, grape juice, ..."

"Apple juice is fine," she answered, going up on tiptoe to try and see past the extension of the lower stories.

He handed her a glass and put a hand on her back. "Come sit down and we can watch something while we wait for room service. I got some extra sushi, just in case you decided you were hungry."

"Ergh... umm, I don't eat sushi," she replied, letting him lead her to the couch.

"Why not, it's delicious."

"Just not a fan."

"Of course you aren't," he said, smiling again. "Here's to simple girls who like simple pleasures," he said, holding his glass up.

She blushed, but tapped his glass with hers and watched him down the tumbler of whiskey. She sipped her juice and looked around again, still a little in awe of the handsome boy.

"So what is your favorite, Elle?" he asked, learning back and putting an arm behind her across the back of the couch.

"Food?" she asked, turning back to him.

"Yeah."

"My mom used to make this amazing potato soup. I have tried and tried and I can't get the recipe right, but some places make it really well."

"Potato soup," he said flatly. He sighed, then shrugged a single shoulder and called down and ordered potato soup. He turned back to her. "So what does Elle want to be when she grows up?" he asked, reaching and toying with one of her curls.

"I... ummm..." she took a drink to buy her a moment to clear her thoughts since his touch was flustering her so much. "I am going to school for a few things... I will decide later what I really want to do. I only know right now that I want out of San Antonio."

"A solid plan. Never understood why people locked themselves into a career before they even had time to know if they liked it. So what are you thinking, maybe? Business?"

"Oh... no. Umm. I was thinking maybe teacher, actually. History."

"You realize teachers make next to nothing, right?"

"It's not about the money, it's about shaping young minds and helping them and..."

"Very altruistic, but not very realistic. What else?"

"Veterinarian."

"You like animals?"

"Yeah."

"Better money, but you know as a vet you would have to put animals down, too? You don't seem like you could do that."

She blushed and looked away, taking another drink.

"Want more?"

"Uhh... yes please," she answered, handing him the glass. What she really wanted was a moment to collect her thoughts.

He handed her the refilled glass and she turned back to him as he sat down next to her. "So teacher or vet. Anything else?"

"Umm. I sort of... I sort of want to become a chef."

"You cook?"

"I try. I want to learn to do it better."

"Well that would require a different type of school."

"Yeah, but they have some classes, and if I could get a letter of recommendation from my teachers, maybe my scholarship could be extended to include culinary school. If I decided that was what I wanted to do."

"What is your favorite thing to cook?"

"Umm... I don't know. Mike doesn't let me practice a lot since Anna told him all the smells make her sick."

"She is pretty much evil, isn't she?" he asked softly, reaching to toy with her curls again.

She blushed again and sipped her juice and he laughed.

"You are shy, aren't you?"

"Umm..."

"It's ok. It's fine. Just not used to it," he said, getting up again. He poured himself another shot of whiskey and came back, holding his glass up to her. "To girls who are shy and not aware at all of how incredibly beautiful they are."

He downed his and her face burned with embarrassment.

"You have to drink to a toast, Elle," he chided.

She drank, feeling ridiculous as he watched her, then sat her empty glass down. "It's kind of hot in here," she said, plucking at her shirt.

"Is it? Why don't you go hop in the shower and I will find you something to wear. The concierge can get the blood out of your clothes and have them back in a couple hours."

"I don't know if..."

"There's plenty of time, there's still over four hours of the conference left. Hurry up and I will send them down."

Rainelle got up and went back to the bathroom, feeling a little off. This seemed like a step too far, taking a shower in his hotel room. But it also made sense.

She pulled off her clothes and set them outside the door before getting in the shower. The cool water felt good, but her cuts stung as she pulled the tape and gauze off and washed the cuts. She got a head rush when she spun and held herself up on the wall a moment, then decided to get out. She felt overheated.

When she came out in her towel, he was sitting on the bed, leaning back on his hands, watching her.

"My clothes?" she asked, her head spinning more.

"Sent them down to be cleaned, Have the stuff to wrap you up right here, come lay down."

"The clothes I can wear?"

"Let me get you taken care of first," he said, getting up and leading her to the bed.

The room spun when he laid her down. "I think something is wrong," she whispered.

"No, Elle, everything is fine. Perfect in fact. Sleep for me," he whispered.

Elle opened her eyes, feeling off. Her head felt foggy, like it was packed with stuffing. "Nnn?" she managed, trying to turn.

"Hey," Wynter said, his face next to hers.

She looked at him, confused as she tugged on her arms and legs. She looked up and her hands were bound together in leather cuffs to the headboard and as she yanked on her legs, she knew her ankles were bound too,

"What... what's happening? What did you do?" she asked, panicking.

"Calm down, Elle. Nothing at all. Not yet."

"Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged. "Because I want to? Because I can. Girls never really struggle or fight, they just pretend to and hope I will keep them around. You, though. It will all be real with you, won't it? That's what I want, Elle."

"Please! Don't do this!" she panted, yanking on her hands.

"Don't freak out, babe. I'm not going to hurt you. Not really. I am going to fuck you... probably a lot, but I'm not really into that S&M shit," he said, running his fingertips over her sternum, then around her breasts lightly. "I usually like bigger tits, but yours look good on you. You do have a nice ass... and I love the shaved pussy. Waxed I guess. That's why I don't buy the no boyfriend line. No girl waxes for themself, it hurts too much."

"No..." she panted, starting to hyperventilate. "It's a type of alopecia. I don't have hair anywhere but my head and face. Please! I won't tell anyone, please let me go!"

"Really?" he asked, his fingertips trailing down to her mound and running them over the smooth skin. "That's kind of hot. You will never have hair there?" he asked, leaning close to her and dragging his full lips over her jaw.

She squealed, tensing up and cringing.

"Never?" he asked again.

"No!"

"I like that," he breathed, moving his hands to run under her arms. "I may even keep you a while, Elle."

"Please let me go! I want to go home!"

"Do you, though? To be tortured and unloved there? I will take care of you... in my own way. I won't hurt you. Much. And when I decide to cut you loose, I will pay for your culinary school. That's what you really want to do, isn't it? I heard the want in your voice... but there is no scholarship for that. Was your mom a chef? Or just a cook? That's why you want it, isn't it? Because of your mom? Slow your breathing, Elle, you will make yourself pass out. There really isn't anything to be afraid of. First things first though, right? How many guys have you been with?"

"None!"

"Liar. Just tell me the truth, I don't care about how many, I just want to know if you are clean or not."

"None! I don't... I don't..."

"Elle, slow your breathing! NOW! Do not pass out on me. How many men?"

"None! I won't date!"

"We'll see," he snorted. "Are you clean? Any STD's?"

"No!" she said, angry for the first time. Her face changed. "Yes! Yes, I have... STD's. I was with a guy and he wasn't clean!"

Wynter chuckled. "You are a shit liar. So no guys and no STD's. Good. I am clean too and I was hoping you were. I fucking hate rubbers. You on the pill? IUD? Patch?"

"No! I'm not... active! I don't need those!"

"It's ok, I got that covered too. You know how to suck cock?"

"No!"

"Ever eat pussy?"

"NO!"

"Ever have yours eaten?"

"No!"

He chuckled again. "You are too fucking perfect, aren't you? I knew I was going to fuck you the second I saw you, I just didn't know you were what I have been waiting for. You have no idea how bad I just wanted to shove your legs up and eat your pussy right there in that room."

She shook her head, breaking down in sobs and he laughed again.

"First things first, baby," he whispered, moving close to her and sliding his hand down between her legs. "Let's see how sensitive this little pussy is."

"Don't TOUCH me!" she screamed, trying to close her legs. Something was stopping her.

"Spreader bar, be careful. The more you fight it, the wider it gets until you can't move at all."

She whimpered and went still, her legs already uncomfortably far apart.

"There's my good girl," he whispered, running his fingers down over her mound and along her slit. "So dry... let's see if we can fix that," he whispered, his fingertips going to her nub.

"Stop!" she screamed, her back arching, trying to get away from his hand.

"Show me how easy it is for you, baby. Get wet for me and I will stop. Come for me and I will even loosen your legs," he growled, then leaned down and wrapped his full lips around her nipple.

Her breath caught and she held her breath in horror. They were her weak spot, they were too sensitive and the slightest touch or brush made her excited.

"Oh, my good girl, look at you!" he cooed, dragging his lip over her very erect nipple. "This trip your switch, baby? How hard do you like it?" he asked, then leaned in and sucked harder, almost painfully hard, but it just made her eyes flutter shut as she moaned softly.

He chuckled, coming up again as his fingers toyed in her wet juices along her slit.