I woke slowly, but panicked at my surroundings. The room I was in wasn't my bedroom. It was dark, and across from me was a door, to my right a curtained window, to my left a closet, behind me a bed. Near the door was a full-length mirror, but it was too dark to see my reflection. I sat in a chair, my wrists bound behind it, my torso and the back of the chair wrapped in rope. My ankles were bound, too, just as my legs and the legs of the chair were bound in rope. There was a rather tight rope around my neck, connected to something behind me, almost as if I was on a leash.

Looking down, I realized someone had changed my clothes. No more was my white nightgown: I now wore a black corset and thong, my somewhat undeveloped breasts hanging out. I realized then that whoever bound me had made sure to wrap the rope around my breasts, exposing them while also squeezing them uncomfortably. I felt a small plastic ball in my mouth and a tight string on my face, letting me know I was gagged. I tried to move, but the chair was connected to the floor somehow, no doubt the work of a hammer and nails.

The door opened after a few minutes, and a tall silhouette stood in the doorway, the orangey light from the hall outside making him look like a shadow. He had something in his hands, and he seemed to smile.

"Well, my pet is finally awake."

His voice was gentle, tender, as if he knew he was talking to a twelve-year-old. He walked over slowly, and I started to squirm, panicking. I didn't want him coming near me. It was obviously him who had put me the way I was.

As he saw my struggling, he rushed over to me, resting his hands on my shoulders gently, calmly. It was now that I got to see him better.

My captor had brown eyes, thin lips, and a decent nose. His hair was blonde, straight, and fell down to below his shoulder blades. He wore a black polo shirt and tan pants. In his hands was a roll of duct tape and what looked like a dog collar. Right off the bat he frightened me.

He shushed me gently and I calmed down a little. He smiled a perfect smile with perfect white teeth, and looked into my eyes. "I'm sorry we had to meet this way, but you were too beautiful to wait any longer. You will make an excellent pet."

I panicked again, and tried to spit out the plastic ball gag I had. He tsked me and took his roll of duct tape, placing one end on my left cheek and taping across my mouth, ripping the piece off once it covered my right cheek.

He smiled again. "There. That's better." He set down the dog collar and roll of duct tape and rested his hands on my knees. "Pets don't speak. Pets should never be heard, and be rewarded and be a reward. You will make an excellent reward."

My eyes bugged out in fear and began to water. This man was really scary, calling me his pet and all.

He chuckled. "You're cute. Now, if you're a good little pet I will move you in a few minutes and show you some attention. However I cannot see you much. You are my nightly reward. I have to earn you."

I whimpered, not liking where this was going.

He chuckled again. "Now, every pet needs a name. What shall I call you?"

I tried to tell him my name, but it didn't come through the gag and tape clearly.

He tsked me again. "What did I say? Pets are never heard." He sighed happily. "But you're beautiful, so I think I'll forgive you." His face lit up. "I think I know what to call you now: Belle. You will be my pet Belle." He picked up the dog collar and fastened it around my neck. He untied the rope around my neck, instead fastening it to the collar, clearly using it as a leash now.

Satisfied, he stood. "Well Belle, I'll be back in a few minutes. Be good and I'll move you. If you aren't good... I might have to punish you, and I don't take pleasure in punishing my pets." With that he left the room.

I took in what he had just told me. I was his pet, and my name was now Belle. This didn't add up. My name wasn't Belle. My name was Victoria. Victoria Swan. I was twelve years old and lived in Phoenix, Arizona with my mom, Renee. I took dance classes, was very smart, and, according to my mom, was very beautiful. My father, Charlie, lived in Forks, Washington. I used to visit him in the summer, occasionally spending a little time at Christmas with him. But now, one seemingly-normal night, I had gone to sleep and woke up here, tied to a chair in a strange room held captive by a strange man. I was told my name was Belle, and that I was his pet. This clearly wasn't right.

Just as he had told me, my captor returned. This time he held a few belts and a red silk sheet.

"Were you a good little pet?" he asked me, setting his items down on the ground.

I simply stared at him, eyes wide with fear.

He chuckled. "Take that as a yes." He knelt next to me and untied the ropes wrapped around my legs and the chair's legs, coiling that quickly and setting the coil on the ground. He untied the ropes wrapped around my torso and the back of the chair, then picked me up and laid me down on the bed.

"Now, if you move I might have to punish you. And I don't want to punish my pet."

I remained frozen as he untied my wrists and tied them to the bed frame with the same rope. He untied my ankles and, taking one leg, bent my knee and tied my ankle to a loop on the exposed mattress near the wall, at the edge of the mattress. He took my other leg, bent my knee, and tied it to another loop across from the other one, at the other edge of the mattress. He took a step back and examined his work. Seeming satisfied, he nodded and walked back over to me. He slowly removed my corset with his teeth, taking one of the belts and wrapping it around my waist instead. He fastened it tightly, leaving a very long tail. He took another of the belts and fastened it just below my breasts, also very tight. He ripped the thong and took another two belts and fastened them at the top of my legs. Then, taking the rope he had coiled, he set to work lacing it through the belts, connecting everything. He grabbed another two belts and fastened them at my armpits, lacing the rope through the belts there, too. As a final touch, he wrapped the rope behind my back and slipped it through my collar, wrapping it a final time down my back and tying it on the belt at my waist. Then, he untied my ankles from the mattress and turned me over onto my back. He took something down from a shelf above the bed, then tied another rope to the one running up and down my back, tying the other end to whatever he took off the shelf. He fastened more ropes to the belts, then untied my wrists from the bed frame. He picked me up and carried me over to a dark corner, placing whatever it was he took from the shelf and setting it in some kind of device above my head. He untied the leash-rope from the far wall and tied it on another loop nearby. He then let go of me, and I was suspended in midair. He took a few ropes from the device above my head and tied one each to my wrists and ankles. Then, he disappeared to the opposite corner, and started typing away on a computer.

Suddenly my arms were yanked by the ropes on my wrists, and my hand was yanked far above my head. The ropes tugged and made me do a strange dance. It was then that I realized I was not just a pet: I was also a toy, a puppet. My captor set up a video camera after he was comfortable with his controls, and started filming. He made me dance, run on air, pose, and so much more. After fifteen minutes of filming, he turned off the video camera and left the room, leaving me in the puppet device.

I squirmed and thrashed, trying to get out of the device, but the ropes and belts held firm. Soon I gave up and let myself hang limply in the device. Soon, the tears I had been holding back before came trickling down my taped cheeks, then poured from my eyes. I had given up.