Therapist Pt. 01

By this time, Liz was fully backed into the wall, pale and quivering with fear, trying to keep calm, to gather her thoughts and not to lose control of the sobs that threatened to choke her.

He was only 3 steps away from being able to stand right in front of her, and they both knew it. This was the time to make his offer.

"If you come willingly, your mother's finances are safe, and you will experience pleasures way beyond your childish fantasies. But if not, I will have to resort to a rather different approach – one that I think will not be quite to your liking. A little bit of hair pulling, thirty or so slaps on your soft ass with my leather belt, some ropes and a blindfold, and we'll be all set. But that's if you want to fight me, Liz. And I'd advise you not to, no matter how much karate you think you know..."

He wished he had a video camera now, right at this moment, so that he could record the distress portrayed so perfectly by her wide eyes, the size of moons, sparkling with tears, and her pale lips, quivering slightly along with the movement of her trembling jaw. What a delicious sight – what a sumptuous feast – and it was all for him – all of it.

To unnerve her even further, he let a hand slip down to his aching member, and watched as her eyes followed the path of his hand down to the big bulge there, her mouth opening in a silent gasp of horror as he squeezed himself slowly, his own mouth set in a lewd smirk.

God. Please let this end – this is just a dream – a horrid, horrid dream. Liz tried to convince herself, but all in vain as she watched his eyes drown her in undisguised lust, the raw energy beaming from his every pore, surrounding her with its unfamiliar magnitude.

There was no escape this time. She was just waiting for him to make the first move, to attack as he so readily promised her he would, so that she could make a feeble attempt to escape, to defend herself, and then renounce herself to violation. Would she be able to let go of hope? To stop fighting? To give into this monster, this brute? To let him use her – to let him unleash his unbearable passion onto her? Would she be able to lie there, passively, and take it, as he proposed she should? No fucking way she would!

Alright. Now it was time – time to scare her beyond her wildest nightmares. And so he pounced.

Liz shrieked as she managed to avoid his initial lunge and scrambled to the left, jumping onto the bed and over it to the other side. She rushed to swing open the door but he had locked it with his key, so instead she whirled around to face him as he prepared his next move.

Clever girl, and quick, too. Quicker than I thought she'd be. Vlad cocked his head to the side and smiled wolfishly, letting her know what was coming. He crouched a bit, making it look like he was planning to jump on the bed to follow in her footsteps, and she took the bait, jumping around her side of the bed towards the center of the room to get away from him.

In that split second, instead of jumping on the bed, Vlad shifted his stance and righted himself, turning slowly to face her. There was nowhere left for her to go. Just the wall, the locked window, and the corner where the two walls met. Soon enough he'd have her backed up into that corner, whimpering with fear.

And whimper she did indeed. Realizing that she was finally cornered, Liz's head whipped from side to side, searching for any hint of salvation, but finding none. He was in front of her, tall, dark, and frightening, his eyes glittering like boiling tar. The ecstatic excitement emanating from his aura penetrated her being, making her dizzy and weak.

He moved a step forward, she moved a step back. He moved a step forward, she moved yet another step back, his eyes never leaving hers, entrapping her gaze with their powerful magnetism. Liz bumped into the wall behind her, her hands splayed out on either side, running up and down the smooth paint as if searching for some secret lever that could be activated, some hidden wall that could be moved aside, leading to a blissful refuge. But there was none. All she was left with was her own ragged breath to remind her that he was only one step away. One step away from her demise.

Ah, the power of the chase. Seduction, if you can call it this. Perhaps a bit too extreme, but then again, I never did appreciate weak emotions. Vlad had closed the final distance, coming to stand just a few tense inches away from Liz's quaking body. She was hyperventilating heavily now. I'll go hysterical if he touches me. I'll die. I'll just explode! I won't be able to take it. That's it. This is the end. Oh God. No. Please, put your hand down. Please, don't touch me. No. Oh God. No.

Vlad placed one palm slowly against the wall next to her shaking shoulder, and focused his eyes steadily onto her wide, wild ones. She was on the edge, that was for sure. If he pushed her any further, she just might have a total nervous breakdown, a psychotic episode, and he didn't want that. He definitely wanted her frightened, but frightened to the point of submission, and not admission to a psychiatric ward. No. Now was the time to provide a sense of comfort, relief, security, to be gentle and calm.

"Please. Please. Please don't hurt me."

A broken whisper tumbled out of her open mouth.

Vlad's eyes widened, looking down at her as if insulted by her plea, his gaze soft, sympathetic.

"Sweetheart, I will never hurt you." His voice - steady, reassuring.

At this, Liz hiccupped, once, twice, over and over until she couldn't keep herself still, and jerked rhythmically from the volley of hiccups that assaulted her.

Vlad slowly brought his other hand to her shoulder, covering it with his large palm and fingers. His hand exuded warmth and softness as it laid there, still on her shoulder, a comforting weight that seemed welcome to Liz's stressed out system. Then, his hand began rubbing the length of her arm in slow, smooth strokes, first up, then down, and so on, until it slipped behind her to rub along the shaking length of her spine.

He felt her body shiver and tense even more, but he kept his rhythmical motion steady, very slowly and softly stroking her back, wanting her to relax into his touch, to lean into him, to feel the sizzling elation ripple through his body as he held her.

Oh, she felt it alright – his excitement, his barely restrained sense of control. She felt it, and it scared her to death. His unpredictable moods foreshadowed a violent twist, and she didn't want to be anywhere near him when the pendulum turned. Pretend. Let me pretend. Relax. Relax, muscles. Just do it. Let him think you want him. Let him think he's won. You've surrendered. Relax, Liz. You can do it.

Oh, but he was thinking the same thing as she. Come, come, sweetheart. Let me soothe you. Let me embalm you in my hug, sooth you with my measured strokes. Come. Melt into me. Do it. You know you want to. Deep down, you just want to surrender. I know you. I know you want to. And it's so easy. So so easy. Let me be the guilty one, the enforcer, the harasser. I don't mind. As long as you let go. Just let go and give into me.

Vlad was almost trembling with the effort to contain his palpitating excitement, just as she was visibly trembling with the effort to relax her impossibly contracted muscles. If only she could shake it off, like after a good work out. Shake it off, Liz. This is your chance. You've lulled him into this mellow state with your submission so far, and you can go even further if you just relax!! She was yelling at herself inside, but on the outside, it was so difficult. She could barely breathe, she was so scared. Ah. Breath. That must be fixed first. She began taking longer breaths, trying to calm down. After several long minutes, her breathing became more or less normal. Relaxed, even. As if she was almost asleep, or in a stupor, the latter being the more likely case.

That was when he felt it. Her muscles, loosening, her breathing and heart rate coming down from their impossible high, her whole body leaning into him until her head rested on his chest. He couldn't believe it. And after only 15 minutes!

The electricity of elation flooded his veins, and his body burned with glee. He could barely stand still. He wanted to throw her down on the bed, tear off her clothes, and devour her. So fast, like lightening. So brutal, like a tornado. Like a beast, he thought grimly. Except I'll never be a prince. And fuck it. Who likes those goody-two shoes anyway? Beasts are reality, and I'm here to show her what's what in this world. God, I want to stay like this forever. His arms enveloped her soft body, drawing her even deeper into his hot embrace.

I could almost get used to this, Liz thought distractedly through the chaos of her numbed mind. Defrost, Liz. It's time. When he's this comfortable, it's definitely time. Come on. One. Two. Three! She jammed her knee upward, squarely and sharply hitting him right where it hurts. No time to think now. Instinct. Run. Run!

Liz ducked under his outstretched arm, taking advantage of his momentary surprise, flew over to the bedside table, whipped out the only book from its shelf, and turned to face her grim reaper. Warrior stance, she told herself. You're not afraid of him!

Vlad cursed himself as he was caught by surprise for the second time tonight. And this time, it hurt! He'd get her for this, he thought, as he turned around slowly and painfully straightened up. Ahah. His bold little Amazon was standing with the Bible threateningly raised in her hand. What sacrilege, he thought absurdly, and a huge grin spread over his face.

"What the hell are you grinning at, huh? You son of a bitch! Why don't you get the hell out of here before the police arrive?"

Liz tried to keep her voice taut, but it failed her towards the end of her brave speech as it wavered to a broken gulping sound.

"The police aren't coming. And you know that, sweetheart" Vlad drawled.

"You gonna throw that at me, or what? Come on, throw it. Throw the bible. I wonder what God'll think of that, my pious little churchgoer" he teased her.

The bastard was mocking her. Trying to make her loose focus. Oh, but he won't win this time. Her arm flexed backward and she hurled the book at him, aiming at his head. It was a fast throw, but one that he managed to miss, ducking a couple of feet down.

He straightened up once more, drawing himself up to his full height, his black hair tousled, his eyes black and raging. Raging with delight. He was enjoying every sweet little second of it. He never wanted it to stop. Ever.

"You know, Liz, we could keep at this forever. I could chase you around the room, even capture you once or twice, then let you go, and I'd be perfectly happy. I wouldn't even get the least bit tired. But I'm worried about you. You already look exhausted. Why don't we sit down and have a little chat, hmm?"

His voice was smooth, too smooth. She didn't like it.

A strangled sob.

"Don't you worry about me. I'll be just fine, as long as you stay the hell away from me."

"Such strong words for one so little, and so very innocent."

His voice oozed with mockery, and it made her sick.

Liz knew she was tiring. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. He was advancing on her, and she jumped over the bed to reach the other side. He jumped too, and she rounded the corner to keep his hands from snatching her. Sob. She was tired. This was making her dizzy. Come on, Liz. You can keep this up for a bit more, till Mom gets home. Then you tell her, you tell her who this man is. What he's been doing to you. You tell her – AH! Snatched!

Ahah. That's it. That's it. It's over. You're mine now. And I'm going to show you who's boss.

It was an unfair fight, his strong build easily overpowering her slim stature. In the wake of her terrified shrieks, entrapping her with his muscled arms, he maneuvered her onto the bed and fell on top of her, his chest on her back, crushing her with his weight as a warning to stop fighting him.

Liz couldn't breathe again, this time because he was on top of her, pushing her stomach into the mattress, her tear-stained face buried in the fluffy comforter. She stilled, not wanting to anger him any further, although she couldn't see that he was far from angry, so wide was his grin. Suddenly, he flipped her over so that she was facing him, and restrained her flailing arms, gripping her with one large hand firmly by her slender wrists.

She couldn't even kick her legs because he was holding them down with his own. Immobilized. He's immobilized me again. The tears ran rampant, like water bursting through a broken dam, soaking her cheeks, chin, the comforter beneath her. Embarrassed, to cry like this. But what to do? An uncontrollable reaction, the only one that was still available to her. God, help me. Help me, please. He's going to kill me.

"You look at me in such terror, as though I'm about to slash your throat with a sharp dagger."

His voice, soft, low, melodious, aimed to soothe yet again.

No change in her expression. Just speechless terror, the sharpest kind that exists, etched onto her face. Must change that, he thought in anticipation.

"I explained to you my initial offer. I said, we can do it the easy way or the hard way. Do you prefer the hard way, Liz? Because that's what it seems like to me"

Motionless. Tears still streaming from her reddened eyes. Her face swollen and pink from crying. The poor darling.

"Hmm? Tell me, Liz. Tell me. Which way do you prefer. For me to have to chase you down, terrorize you? Or for you to let me please you? For you to surrender to me? I think you crave surrender. I think you want to submit. You're just hanging on to some imagined shred of hopeful rebellion. Resistance. Don't resist me, Liz. You won't enjoy it, unless it's what you really like. Unless it's what you need. Tell me. Tell me, sweetheart."

God. This is torture. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke in a low whisper, tickling her inner ear with his breath. She couldn't concentrate. Her fear and her desire were splitting her in half. She was so tired of being afraid. But she couldn't surrender just like that. Lose her dignity? Never. Let him terrorize her into submission. He wouldn't get her willing response. Even if it killed her.

(Hope you liked this beginning installment, and please don't forget to vote!! I appreciate and welcome all comments! Thanks for reading.)