The world was black, but the air was heavy with cinnamon apples and fresh pine. I hadn't smelled things like that in years. Unfortunately, the smell comforted me when the sense of danger should have been crawling up my back. I thought that any moment, Mom would be giving me a huge piece of pie with a hug and a kiss. And the truth was that I really needed it. My brain was swimming around in circles. Some of her love always made me feel better.
With a small smile on my lips, I opened my eyes slowly. Everything was a haze of oranges and reds, warm and inviting. I squinted, attempting to get my eyes to clear.
The fireplace caught my attention first. The fire looked like it had been burning for some time now, but still had more to go. Stockings were hanging from its hearth, spaced apart with meticulous care. Large white candles decorated the mantle with holly around the base. To the side was a beautifully decorated tree, done in whites and reds. Piles of perfectly wrapped presents littered the floor under and around the tree, on plush white carpet. Wine colored walls served as a backdrop for it all, too warm and wonderful and inviting. Everything looked like something in a magazine, but somehow too clean and more artificial.
I tried to move from the bed only to be met by resistance at my wrists. I looked at my arms. I was cuffed to a brass bed frame—naked, at that. Panicked, I pulled harder on my straps. Gasping frantically, I sat up for a better view of my situation, clawing at the metal restraints. There was no way out.
I screamed, but it stayed mostly in my throat. Someone had put a gag on me. Someone had done this to me. My body began shaking and terrified tears began spilling down my cheeks. My thoughts tumbled over each other. How did this happen? Who did this? Am I going to die here?
Soft music filled the room; The Christmas Song played from unseen speakers. A terrified shudder moved down my spine. There was movement in the left corner of the room. I closed my eyes tightly and my teeth clenched on the leathery strap between my lips. I hoped that, somehow, closing my eyes would send away whatever hid in the darkness.
"Hey, sleepy-head, good morning."
The man's voice was deceptively kind and gentle. I knew that it was a lie.
I could hear him moving closer. Without opening my eyes, I balled myself in a corner of the bed as much as I could, which really wasn't much at all. The satin sheets beneath me caused my feet to slip with each movement. I knew I hat do look like a wild animal, struggling to get away. In many ways, I was.
"No reason to be scared," he chastised while moving closer. "I'm not going to hurt you."
I whimpered. It was bad enough he had me in this situation, but to claim that it was all going to be 'OK' was crazy.
"Look at me when I talk to you."
His voice had turned cold and demanding. Something told me not to piss this man off. I opened my eyes as ordered.
I couldn't place who he was exactly though he seemed like a nice guy. His hair was peppered, eyes deep blue, distinguished wrinkles. He wore an expensive looking gray suit with a silk tie matching his vibrant eyes. Everything about him was as perfect and almost unreal as the room.
A warm smile moved across his face as he sweetly spoke, "I was worried you weren't going to wake up in time for Christmas."
The man walked to the bed. He sat down, sinking into the plush bed with a long, drawn-out sigh.
"Nice, isn't it?" he asked as he stroked the red satin comforter.
He moved his hand close to my leg. Desperately, I tried to escape his touch. The man laughed and pulled his hand away.
"No point in trying to be hard to get," he said in a sultry voice. "I already have you, Ali."
I gasped, staring at him wild-eyed. He smiled. His left hand went into his pocket. He pulled out my wallet.
"I have this, Alice Morgan, age 23."
He opened it, rummaged through it for a moment, then tossed it to the floor. The man raised a brow at me.
"I bet you don't even remember me, do you?"
I didn't. I'd been struggling to figure that out since he came from the shadows.
"We had the best conversation last night at the bar and then at the tiny diner across the street from it. You were so sad with being all alone for the holidays. No where to go. No family to call your own."
I nodded my head. I figured, maybe, if I gained his sympathy...Or at least distract him...
"Then, I thought," he started as he began undoing his tie, "I have so much, maybe I could help you with that."
With a long, drawn out sigh, the well-dressed-bastard stood up. His eyes looked off to the fire. Soon, he walked to the fireplace. He knelt before it and gently stoked the fire.
"No little girl should be alone for Christmas, after all."
He turned his face towards me. His smile was cruel and his eyes were hungry. Unfortunately, I was going to be the feast. I whimpered and struggled against the straps again. Inwardly, I began begging to God to have me freed.
"You know," the man continued, ignoring my fear, "I could be home with my family. My son, Michael, is probably home from college by now. He's not much younger than you are. He wants to be a doctor," he said with a proud sigh. "Then, there's my typically-teenage daughter, Lillian. She's probably trying to talk my wife into letting whatever little shit she's dating come over for the family dinner. Much like me, she has a thing for the stragglers. Kids with nowhere to go and what-not."
He tossed his tie at me. The silky material slid down my flailing legs before it fell to the satin spread. His eyes followed it the entire trip with a lecherous smile.
"And then, there's my lovely wife, Rebeca. Good old Rebecca, who thinks that she can control me with that ice box between her frigid legs," his voice became a low growl as he spoke of his wife. "It's always 'Jacob, I want this and this and if I don't get it, you can't have it.' That's okay, though. I can get my kicks elsewhere, can't I?"
He moved around to the side of the bed. His large, callused hand grabbed my thigh with bruising force. I tried to jerk it away, which earned me more of a tight hold on my skin. But, I didn't whimper in favor of swallowing my fear. Bonus for me.
When he assumed I had calmed down, his hand relaxed and stroked my inner thigh with a gentleness that disgusted me. At least the anger had faded back into a dark lust. He smiled down at me with tenderness and kindness reminding me of the previous night. Shame washed over me for trusting him then.
"Don't worry, babe," he said, voice husky, as he bent down to kiss my knee, "Daddy is going to take good care of you."
His teeth bared down on my flesh with a playful growl. I could feel his teeth puncturing my sensitive skin. I whimpered then as pain ceased me. He chuckled against my skin, his warm breath blowing over me.
He licked my wound with a long, languorous stroke of his too wet tongue. I could feel my insides boiling up towards my mouth. I turned away, unable to watch that disgusting look on his face.
Jacob stepped away from my red satin trap, jolting the bed in his hurry. I didn't dare look at him, but I could hear the sound of a nearby drawer open then shut quietly. He made a pleased sound, walked to the bed, and stood before it. Curiosity mingled with fear got the better of me. I turned my head just enough to see him at the edge of the bed and between my sprawled legs. I watched him as he lovingly caressed what looked to be a wooden box, but it was hard to tell with only firelight as a guide.
"You know, little girl, you seem awfully scared for someone who is about to receive one of life's greatest presents," he told me jovially.
I knew I shouldn't speak; don't antagonize him and make it worse. But the words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself, "I don't want presents from a fucking rapist." The words came out muffled and distorted by the gag, but the meaning was still clear.
He arched a brow at me, smirking with a long, drawn-out sigh. Two presses on the box, it snapped open. Jacob grinned at the contents.
"You can't rape the willing, kid," he chastised as he reached within the box.
He pulled out a long, metallic object. It took me a second longer than it should to realize it was a vibrator. With a slight gesture of the fingers, the thing sprung to life, whirring softly in his large hand.
"And," he continued, "in a moment, you're going to be very willing."
After pushing the box aside, he knelt between my legs, running the cold, vibrating object along my right thigh as his hot hand trailed down the left. My legs tensed at the slow and delicate touch. I knew what was coming and I couldn't do anything to stop it or him. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that it would somehow shield me from whatever happened next.
I felt him sprawl above me followed by his hot breath along my neck. Soon that was replaced by the feel of dry lips on my skin. But they didn't stay there long. No, he moved down my body slowly, leaving no part of me untouched. When his mouth found my left nipple, he sucked on it hard—too hard, forcing it to harden between his biting teeth. I whimpered at the pain and at the fact that the violation would only become worse.