This is rather creepy, but I thought I'd try and get into the kidnapper's head this time around. See what he sees, it's rather disturbing.



Joey curled up on the bed closer to Sara, holding her tightly to him. His one arm found its way to the small of her back, while his other began to stroke her hair. He knew this position would prove very uncomfortable to the woman, primarily because her hands were still tied awkwardly behind her back. He not only knew she'd feel off-balance, but he knew the position made it especially difficult for her to move in any directly, save closer to the man himself.

He felt power in what he did. So long as he was in control, things would work out fine. Like before this whole situation started. He knew because of Sara's past, she would find any degree of closeness both disturbing and unsettling. That's why he'd held her just a little too tight for a little too long. He knew that by telling her what she wanted to hear, when she wanted to hear it, her off-putting feelings would become so confused with her new-found feelings of content, that she'd start to question herself.

He gained power from his mind games then, just as he gained power from her fear now. He truly wished for the woman to become so unsure of herself that she'd do anything he'd ask of her. He wanted her to beg for him. To believe it unthinkable an act to leave him. He wanted someone so insecure, so self-doubting that she'd start to believe he was the best she could find. That he was the only man who would love her. The only man who would take the damaged goods that she had become.

He looked into her eyes, but could tell she was avoiding any visual contact between the two. That would come later. He'd make sure of it. For now though, the physical contact was enough. Enough to make him feel aroused. Certainly enough to make her feel, even if the sensations weren't of an agreeable variety.

Almost unconsciously, he removed the duct tape. He longed for the sound of her voice, though he'd never let her in on that fact. He knew, at this point anyhow, she'd do anything to displease him, including keep silent if she thought speech was what he wanted. It was all part of the game. If she'd gave in and crumbled too soon, there'd have been no point to the last few weeks of preparations. He knew the woman was a fighter, that alone was half the fun.

It was for her he had bought the little home outside of the city. He thought they'd need a private residence to really get to know one another. A place where no one would look. A place where he could delight in the sound of her screams, and not run the risk of being heard by neighbours. A place that at night became so dark, so sinister appearing, that it almost fit his terrible vision.

He saw a tear running from the corner of her eye, so he leaned in and kissing her, felt the moisture and tasted the salt. He also noticed a small tremble escaping from her lower lip. Leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake, he made it to the lip in question, and began nipping at it, and later delved in for a deeper kiss. At first, she didn't respond. Just held perfectly still. Then as if her body was betraying her, she slowly began to return the kiss.

This continued for a moment, until she apparently realized what she was doing and pulled back her head sharply. He had wished the moment would've lasted longer, but in no way complained. He just watched her with a grin as she eyed him with a hard look of contempt. He wasn't sure if she was disgusted with herself, or with him. He figured a bit of both. He hoped for a bit of both. It would be more fun that way.



Sorry about the short chapter, but this seems like a good place to leave it right now. Thanks for all of you who have reviewed my work so far. It's a great motivator for writing additional chapters. I promise, the next chapter will be longer ;)