Beloved

Author's Note:

Thank you all for your lovely comments on Chapter 1! Just as a reminder, the events in this story are

fictional

and should never, EVER, under any circumstances be attempted or reenacted in real life. Like most of the works under the Non-Consent/Reluctance category, the things portrayed here are a fun fantasy to explore in a book or piece of erotica, but would be abhorrent and incredibly illegal/immoral in reality. Please enjoy it as the work of fiction it is, and happy reading! ;D

Also, I'd like just give a HUGE shoutout to my three IRL friends who are helping to proofread/edit these chapters. Y'all are amazing, thank you so much!!!<3

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I woke with the sort of easy softness usually reserved for weekends, curled up safe and warm in a cozy nest of blankets. Early morning light streamed in the windows of my apartment, kissing my closed eyelids with the promise of another day as I stretched lazily with a wide yawn.

It turned into a groan as my whole body protested the movement. Every muscle grumbled in unison as I burrowed my face into the pillows, sleepily trying to figure out why in the world I was so sore.

"Morning, kitten. Sleep well?"

My eyes flew open at that low graveled voice, the last vestiges of sleep disappearing as I sat bolt upright. There was a throbbing behind my temples to go with my aching limbs, and I rubbed at my head gingerly, looking around at the strangely familiar bedroom.

Did I go home with someone?

I wondered in confusion, dismissing the idea as quickly as it came.

Maybe I ended up crashing at one of my girlfriend's houses? Or was it...

My gaze landed on the huge man looming over the end of the bed, a shot of adrenaline hitting harder than espresso as Rand stared me down impassively, massive arms folded sternly across his chest.

The events of last night flooded back in a torrent as I followed his pointed look downwards to where the covers pooled around my waist, leaving far too much skin exposed. I hastily clutched the comforter to my bare chest, even as the stale scent of sex clinging to my skin whispered that modesty was likely a long-lost cause.

Rand's lips twitched but he thankfully didn't comment, giving a short nod towards the bathroom.

"Left you something to wear. Hopefully it fits."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as he came forward to sit on the edge of the bed. I shrank away as he reached out, brushing my sleep-mussed hair away from my face with a gentleness that belied his size.

"Got some bad news, kitten." Rand's voice was soft, but there was something in it that made me sit up at attention. "Gonna have to head out for a while."

I blinked at him in surprise. "You're leaving? Where are you going?"

"Oregon. Not that it matters." He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Wasn't in the plan, but..."

"There's a plan?" I asked quickly. I hoped he might let something slip about what exactly that might be, but Rand just snorted, shaking his head.

"Always."

He's really not much of a talker, huh?

Maybe it was just lingering oxytocin from last night, but there was a strange prickle of disappointment at the thought of the giant man not being around.

I knew logically that last night had just been straight-up assault, but Rand had been oddly gentle with me considering the circumstances. Kind, even. I found myself wishing he could stay, if only for fear of what the other one might do to me while he was gone.

I bit my lip at the thought, trying to give him a smile. "Um, okay then. How long are you going to be gone?"

"Couple days. Maybe a week. Won't know until I'm there." Rand shrugged noncommittally. "You'll be fine. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," I said, giving him a nervous glance. "Unless you think I should be worried. Should I be worried?"

"Not if you behave." Rand's voice was deadpan, but the corners of his eyes crinkled ever-so-slightly as I snorted in disbelief.

"That's not ominous at all, thanks."

He just chuckled, jerking his chin over his shoulder towards the door that led upstairs. "Get ready. Go up. Got it?"

I peered around him, surprised to find the door was propped open. From somewhere beyond golden sunlight was streaming, spilling across the carpet to brighten my windowless prison with its cheerful glow.

What the hell?

Rand waited for my nod, giving one in return before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. As he left he paused in the doorway, turning back to give me one last lingering look.

"See you soon. Be good, kitten."

I held my breath as his footsteps faded away up the stairs. I waited a minute to make sure he wasn't coming back before sliding out of bed and making a dash for the bathroom.

Waiting for me on the counter was a black t-shirt, neatly folded and left beside a bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of water. I eyed the medicine suspiciously, the all-over ache bad enough that I ventured to open the lid. It was still factory sealed underneath, making me brave enough to stick my thumb through the thin foil and pop two into my mouth.

I took care of my morning needs quickly, washing my face and scrubbing at my teeth with the corner of a washcloth. In the absence of soap I settled for wiping myself down with a damp towel, getting rid of the worst of the grime and stickiness while still left longing for the feeling of truly being clean.

As I picked up the shirt, a familiar scent tickled my nose, bringing with it a tiny tingle of warmth. I sniffed the collar, the faint whiff of Rand's cologne and the wrinkles in the fabric confirming that he must have had it on recently, though it looked oddly clean.

Maybe he slept in it?

"'

Hopefully it fits

'" I muttered in a parody of Rand's baritone, pulling the swath of fabric over my head. "He thinks he's funny, huh?"

It was comically oversized on me, going nearly down to my knees and hanging off my frame in a way that reminded me of playing dress-up in my mom's clothes as a kid. The v-neck dipped low enough to not interfere with the collar locked around my neck, but thankfully not so low as to show off too much skin.

I let myself take a second to revel in the feeling of being covered, a comfort to be found in that privilege that I usually took for granted. It did feel strange to be going commando underneath, but I had a suspicion underwear was a luxury I'd be going without until I could figure out some way to get back home.

Home.

Longing rose at the thought of my cozy apartment, the thought of never seeing it again making my chest ache. My mind conjured up a depressing image of everything I'd ever owned coated in a thick layer of dust, the dishes I'd left in the sink gone rancid and the plants in my bedroom window dying slowly, their once lush leaves shriveled and brown in my absence.

How long will it take for my landlord to realize I'm missing?

I wondered as I shut off the bathroom light and headed tentatively towards the open door.

Will the neighbors call him if the trash starts to smell, have him unlock the door to see if I died? He'll definitely notice when my rent is late, but that's not until the first of the month...

Next month felt impossibly far away, as out of reach as any real plan of escape. I'd tossed and turned last night, my mind racing with a million different possibilities to get out of the basement room. I'd pondered plans ranging in complexity from trying to run past them to building a Rube Goldberg machine constructed out of toilet paper that could summon a fully functional portal back to my apartment.

I might have dreamed that last one, actually.

My point was, nowhere in all my scheming had I ever considered that they might just... Let me out.

I approached the open door like one might a sleeping tiger, sticking my head out just far enough to peer cautiously down the short basement hallway.

To the right was an ominous black door with a keypad beside it, a quick try of the handle confirming that it was locked. On the other side, shafts of sunlight streamed down the steep stairs, the faint clink of dishes and a tantalizing whiff of cinnamon coming from somewhere up above.

Gathering up my nerve, I crept up the stairs, blinking as I stepped out into a bright pool of sunshine. The smooth hardwood floors were warm beneath my bare feet as I stood for a moment, transfixed by the serene scene laid out beyond the lofty windows.

In the daylight it was easier to get a sense of exactly how remote the house was, the sun rising over endless acres of flat, fertile land that would soon be full of crops as the handful of giant windmills scattered across the horizon danced lazily with the sky.

An unexpected wave of nostalgia rose for my parent's old farmhouse, the one with the bubble-gum pink bedroom I'd never let my mom repaint. They'd moved us all to the suburbs when I was almost out of high school, happy to be free of the never-ending repairs, bad harvests, and hassle that came from living half an hour from the grocery store.

I had adjusted eventually, but had never stopped missing the feeling of being on an island in the midst of a sea of cornfields and soybeans. There was something about being the only living soul for miles that made something deep in my soul happy, bringing with it a sense of peace I'd never found since.

That same isolation now made it difficult to see any way out of my current predicament, and I hastily shook away the memories. Giving a furtive glance around to make sure I was alone, I crept down the hallway to the front door and reached for the handle.

The sleek black knob didn't turn, though it did jiggle slightly. There was a keypad set into the doorframe beside it and I reached out, sending up a silent prayer that it wouldn't set off some kind of alarm.

Just as my fingertips touched the buttons, a cheerful voice sounded out from behind me.

"Already plotting your escape, pet?"

I spun around to find the dark-haired man leaning on the arched doorway to the living room, hands casually shoved in his pockets.

He looked like he'd just walked off the set of a photo shoot, the sleeves of his black button-down rolled up his muscular forearms and his matching slacks perfectly tailored. From his artfully tousled hair to the tips of the well-shined shoes on his feet, he was the very definition of 'put together', and I couldn't help wondering who the hell gave a sick bastard like him permission to look so damn good.

That weird feeling of having seen him somewhere before returned, but I still couldn't put my finger on where exactly that might have been. There was no time to ponder as he grinned at me, eyeing my attire.

"Bit big, hmm?"

"Noooo, it fits perfectly," I said without thinking, biting my tongue as I realized sarcasm was likely not the best option given the circumstances. Thankfully the man just laughed, motioning for me to follow him.

"We'll have to pick you up a few things that fit better. C'mon, breakfast is ready."

With one last longing glance at the front door, I trailed after him through the living room, making my way past comfy-looking couches into a beautiful open-concept kitchen. It was decked out with stainless steel appliances that gleamed in the sunlight, the rich wood cabinetry modern and sleek with gleaming silver locks.

Locks?

I looked around as the man busied himself at the stove, finding the same retrofitted keyholes on every single cabinet and drawer. Other than a handful of dishes and ingredients from whatever he was cooking, the black marble counters were also distractingly bare, lacking even a fruit bowl or knife block sitting out.

It was just like the bathroom downstairs, I realized with a start. Perfectly sanitized to keep the prisoner away from pointy objects or anything even slightly poisonous. There was even a chain around the fridge handles and a cover for the stove.

The level of effort that had gone into locking me out was frankly impressive.

Or rather it would be impressive, if it wasn't so damn creepy

, I thought as the man indicated one of the barstools. I hopped up on it, surprised when it didn't scoot at all, a glance down telling me it had been bolted securely to the floor.

Seriously, did these guys think of everything?

The real question is, what have they thought of that you haven't?

, whispered a nasty little voice in the back of my head.

I shook the unsettling thought away as the man slid a paper plate loaded with French toast over to me, sticking a plastic fork in the top and placing a steaming styrofoam cup of coffee beside it.

Guess I don't get real silverware?

As he settled himself on the other side of the counter, I looked down at the food. It was piping hot and smelled amazing, perfectly coated in syrup and butter. Despite how delicious it looked I couldn't bring myself to pick up the fork, my stomach protesting my hesitation with a loud grumble.

The man raised an eyebrow at me. "You know there are easier ways to poison someone than spending half an hour dredging bread, right?"

When I still didn't move, he shrugged and pulled my plate over to his, swapping a few slices between them. Sliding it back, he picked up my cup of coffee and took a large sip, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"Hazelnut, cream, four sugars. Far too sweet if you ask me, but you'll be happy to know it's also completely free of rat poison, arsenic, or iocane powder."

"How the hell do you know my coffee order?" I asked suspiciously. He winked at me, then picked up his own fork and began to dig in.

"I know a lot of things, pet. Now eat, before it gets cold."

I gave in and took a bite. It was even more delicious than it looked, cinnamon sugar and maple syrup spreading sweetly across my tongue as I took another eager mouthful. I was hungrier than I'd realized, but still didn't come anywhere close to finishing the massive portion by the time the man finished his plate. He took care of the leftovers and tossed our dishes, then turned back to me with a smile.

"Alright, pet. It's a beautiful morning, so I've decided we'll have some fun." The man rubbed his hands together, then steepled his fingers and pointed them at me. "How would you like to get some fresh air?"

I stared at him blankly. "Like... Go for a walk?"

"Mmm, I was thinking more 'sit in the backyard and enjoy the sunshine'. Sound good?"

First out of the basement, now out of the house?

It all seemed a little too easy, my gut warning me something was off even as my pulse raced at the prospect of being allowed outside. I nodded, and he pointed to the floor.

"Excellent. Kneel, sweetheart. I'll be right back."

I obeyed quickly, not wanting to give him any reason to rescind the offer. As I sank to my knees beside the kitchen island the man patted my head fondly, ordering me to stay as he disappeared out into the living room.

I didn't have long to scheme ways to slip away, the click of shoes on the kitchen tile heralding the man's return. He was holding something behind his back, and I frowned at him, discreetly trying to crane my neck to see what it might be.

He gave me a reassuring smile, moving to stand behind me before I could get eyes on whatever it was.

"Nothing to worry about as long as you behave, I promise. Lift up your hair for me, that's a good pet."

It only took a moment for him to unlock the leather collar, the weight of it disappearing as another took its place. This one was lighter, made of some material that was more pliable than the thick leather. There was something attached to it that made it slightly heavier on one side, twin points that were cold and oddly sharp pressing into the skin beneath it.

I winced as he adjusted the collar uncomfortably tight, not letting up until that sharpness was digging into the side of my neck hard enough that I couldn't ignore it. He slid a finger underneath to check the fit and then I heard a lock click into place.

"Perfect! Let's go." He helped me to my feet, leading me by the upper arm to a large sliding glass door at the back of the house. I fidgeted as he typed a string of numbers far too long for me to memorize into the keypad beside it, a cheerful beep sounding out as he slid it open.

We stepped out onto a tidy flagstone patio boasting a few cushioned deck chairs and a coffee table in the middle. There was a small swath of lawn around it, and it was bordered in the back by a sprawling field filled with unharvested rows of corn stalks from last year, their yellowed leaves rattling in the breeze.

My lungs filled with crisp morning air, the lingering scent of damp earth and freshly mowed grass tickling my nose. It was still chilly this time of year, and I shivered as my bare feet touched the cold stones, eyes drawn to the horizon as I searched for some sort of landmark. Something to aim for, some sign of humanity. Something like....

That.

Off in the distance, I could just make out a chimney rising above the endless field. A plume of smoke spiraled lazily above it, the cozy cloud confirming that someone must live there. It was impossible to judge how long it might take to reach, the distance distorted by the flatness of the ground between.

It didn't really matter if it was thirty minutes away or three hours. I was far too aware there was no guarantee I would be able to reach it before being recaptured or worse.

But I was sure going to fucking try.

Time seemed to dilate, slowing to a crawl as the dark-haired man went to shut the door, making the fatal mistake of dropping my arm and turning his back to me for only a second. My heartbeat pounded a frantic tattoo in my chest, a single word rising from a whisper to a scream that echoed against the confines of my skull.

RUN!

I bolted like a frightened rabbit fleeing a fox, crossing the yard in a flash and diving between the rows of corn.

Dried stalks rustled and crunched around me, the cacophony mingling with my panicked breaths to serve as soundtrack to my frantic flight. I forced my aching muscles to keep pushing forward, the resistance of my bare feet sinking into the soft soil making it slow going as I pressed deeper into the field.

Just as I was starting to flag, the collar gave a short buzz, the unexpected vibration making me stop in my tracks. I fidgeted with it nervously, risking a look back the way I'd come as I strained to hear any sound of pursuit.

Nothing but the gentle rustle of the wind through the field reached my ears, dread pooling in my stomach as I realized the man wasn't chasing me.

Why the fuck isn't he chasing me?

I backed a few more tentative steps away from the house and the collar came to life again, giving two short buzzes this time. Taking a deep breath, I turned and began to run again, making it less than ten feet before a sudden electrical zap made me yelp, my hands flying up to the collar.

The shock stung terribly, though the sharp pain surprised me more than causing any real harm. An unpleasant tingle crawled across my skin where the sharp points were pressed into my neck, and I rubbed gingerly at it as sickening realization dawned as to what exactly he'd strapped me into.

I let out a string of curses under my breath, tugging at the shock collar angrily.

Calling me 'pet' is one thing, putting me in a fucking dog collar is something else

, I thought with no shortage of venom, forcing myself forward a few more steps only to get another quick zap.

This one was more intense, sharp enough to make my breath catch with a pained whimper. A few more steps and I was rewarded with one severe enough that stars danced across my vision, making me cry out in pain and claw at my neck.

The collar gave a shrill warning beep as I tugged angrily at it, hating how securely the insidious device was attached to my throat. It was too tight to cut off safely even if I'd had something sharp enough, the padlock on the buckle locked firmly in place.

Maybe if I smash the shock box?