Deviance Ch 02

I woke in a fuzzy haze as I tried to blink away the confusion. My body was just as slow as my mind to come to reality. Finally, I pushed myself up off the cold floor with shaky arms and leaned against the wall. I didn't have to move far--from the looks of it, I was trapped in an eight-by-six-foot windowless box.

There was no door or seam indicative of an exit, just four perfectly smooth walls, a floor covered in a thin black foam, and a ceiling painted dark to match the rest of the space. My mind was telling me to scream, to fight, but my body was slow to respond. Lethargic and feeling the effects of the drug, I tried to stretch my legs, but they were still too weak to hold me up.

I had no sense of time or any indication of how long I had been unconscious. My phone, wallet, and apron were all gone. Even my shoes and earrings had been removed. I suppose part of me should be relieved that my clothes looked untouched, other than my missing belt.

But where the hell was I?

As if sensing my thoughts, a tiny screen appeared on the wall, or rather, built into the wall? I couldn't find any projector, and the wall was seamless. The soft glow of the screen wasn't very bright, but in the small space, I was thankful for that. My eyes had only just adjusted to the dim lighting and were still sensitive.

"Welcome." A soft automated voice chimed, reading the words displayed on the screen.

"Where am I?" I asked out loud as in case someone was listening.

"That question is not permitted." The voice responded, followed by a red flash of light across the screen.

"Who are you?"

"That question is not permitted." The screen tuned red; it repeated itself like a broken record.

Struggling, I pushed myself up on unsteady legs and leaned into the opposite wall of the screen. It took a lot out of me. The room spun a little bit, but I was able to stay upright.

"What do you want?"

The screen flashed green, and I was instantly relieved. "Your compliance."

"My compliance?" I didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

The screen changed again. "Before you is a contract. Only once you read and sign, agreeing to the terms may you be released." A document appeared on the screen.

AGREEMENT

I, Roisin Ward, do hereby surrender myself, voluntarily and in totality, without limitation to him. In signing this agreement, I offer my complete consensual submission encompassing mind, body, spirit, and sexuality to him and understand that by doing so, I relinquish all worldly processions, decisions, and rights.

The signee accepts him as her Dominant and understands she is his to be dealt with as he pleases. The signee agrees to obey any rules presented to her and will do so at all times without hesitation. The signee will serve him in any manner he wishes to include sexual exploration and gratification. The signee ensures the necessary precautions to maintain good health and well-being; the signee will not put herself in harm's way, drink to excess, or partake in tobacco or other drug use.

By agreeing, the signee acknowledges that she will not be harmed and that her well-being and safety will not be jeopardized in his pursuit of her submission. She recognizes he will not allow any serious injury or risk to interfere with her life, and while she may be punished for rule infractions, she will not be seriously harmed. He agrees to treat her with respect while under his authority and claims all responsibility for the signee's well-being, financial security, and living arrangements."

The signee agrees to these terms for a period of ninety days. At the end of term, if the signee wishes to return to her previous life, she may do so freely.

My stomach dropped, and my legs barely had enough strength in them to hold me up. I had to force myself to continue reading, but all I wanted to do was scream. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the words again, but all I saw was ownership.

Whoever he was, he was sick. He was a delusional psycho if he thought he could own me and have his way with me however he pleased. It made me nauseous.

I heaved over, begging my stomach to stay down, but there wasn't much in it. Another few inhales, and then it struck me. I was never going to get out of here.

I panicked, rushing over to the screen, I felt around its edges looking for a gap, anything that might help me get to escape, but there was nothing.

I was trapped.

Screaming, I threw myself against the wall, hoping my body weight was enough to break through, but I was a tiny thing and merely bounced off the wall.

Without much space to back up, I braced myself and rammed the wall again and then again and again until my body ached in protest.

The digitized voiced chimed overhead, "I must warn you, if you continue to harm yourself, preventative measures will be taken." My thoughts circled back to the section about self-harm. But what the system didn't understand was that I wasn't doing this because I enjoyed pain or sought to hurt myself, but because I was trapped.

There was no other option--well, not one I was willing to take. I'd already told myself I wouldn't sign the agreement; I wouldn't subject myself to the whims of another person, to be considered property.

"I won't be owned," I snarled as I backed myself into the corner and ran at the wall again. Then, shaking off the pain, I turned around and walked back, gearing up for another run when I heard something click. I looked up as a mist filled the cell from above. Instinctively, I covered my mouth and nose but not before I smelled the strange chemical.

If this was the response, then maybe what I was doing was effective; perhaps I was close to breaking out. With one hand covering my mouth and nose, I rammed the wall again, and I felt it give way a little; I had weakened it. Nevertheless, it was working--it had to.

My eyes stung as the mist continued to fill the small space around me and my lungs repelled as a fit of coughing seized me. Then, finally, I heard another click, and the vapors stopped flooding the room, but that was all it took. Even covering my mouth and nose, I had begun to feel its effects.

My body crumpled to the ground, and my eyes blinked away the sting. I couldn't hold my breath any longer; I needed air... Inhaling away from the vapors, I knew it was pointless. I could taste them on my tongue.

Huddling close to the floor, I resisted for as long as I could, but the entire cell had filled with the mist; it was inescapable.

I surrendered, and in seconds, the vapors had swallowed me whole.

*****

My body felt as if I'd been struck by a freight train and left to die in the ditch. The first thing I noticed was that the smell of chemicals was gone, either by natural dissipation or mechanical intervention--I wasn't sure.

I groggily pushed myself up into a sitting position and surveyed the cell. Other than the mist had disappeared, everything was the same.

In the act of desperation, I asked, "What time is it?"

The computer screen replied, "That question is not permitted."

I sighed. "Can you at least tell me what day it is?"

The screen flashed red. "That question is not permitted."

"Useless piece of shit," I mumbled under my breath. Nothing had changed; I was still trapped, and signing wasn't an option. "I want to speak to him."

"That is not permitted until you agree to the terms."

"No, not after." My voice was steady, despite my resolve slowly dissipating. "Now."

The digitized voice did not respond. Instead, it brought the contract up on the screen. On the bottom was a thin black line with my name under it.

"What if I have questions?" I started, trying to find my balance on weak legs. The room spun again; whatever was in that cocktail of drugs was potent and left me depleted. It probably didn't help that my stomach rolled, and the hunger pains had kicked in full strength now.

"You may ask them, and if permitted, I will respond."

"No." I began shaking my head. "I want him to respond." Whoever he was.

"That is not permitted."

I looked around at the ceiling, looking for a camera, but couldn't see anything. He had to be watching. He wouldn't have abducted me and left a computer program in charge, no--he could see me. "I know you're watching." I raised my voice. "I'm not afraid of you."

This time the voice didn't respond, but text rolled across the screen. You should be.

It confirmed my suspicions. He could hear me, maybe even see me.

"What do you want?" I asked. "I can give you money." Of course, it wasn't much, but he didn't know that, did he?

I want you.

"Right." I huffed, spinning in a circle looking for the camera again. "My submission... well, I don't bow to anyone, that includes you. And you can be damn sure I won't give myself to you."

You will, in time.

I shook my head. "You're wrong. You don't know the first thing about me. I'm nothing special, and had you known that you wouldn't have bothered."

I know a great deal about you, Roisin. Perhaps more than you know yourself.

That was impossible. Shaking my head, I spun, trying to find the camera.

I know you spend your Saturday mornings at the library. I know when you're frustrated, you pace the park outside your apartment, drowning out the world with music, or when you're anxious, you rub that little rock in the stone arch at work.

My heart pounded louder, flooding my ears with its quickened pace. I realized whoever this was, this man had been following me for some time. I hadn't been to the park in two weeks. "Let me go. If you release me, I won't say anything to anyone. It'll be as if this never happened."

The screen turned black for a second, and then the computerized voice hummed, "Before you is a contract. Only once you read and sign, agreeing to the terms may you be released."

He was gone. Ugh. I screamed, pounding my fist against the wall in anger. I punched the wall again, repeatedly until the pain was debilitating. My hand throbbed as I held it close to my body.

"Let me out!" I screamed, my voice ricocheting off the wall and assaulting my ears.

I had allowed myself to get worked up to the point of exhaustion, which wasn't difficult given the lack of energy and strange drugs in my system. I wasn't sure how long I stared at the contract; however short it was, it was damning. It made me his, to do with as he pleased. It didn't matter that I had goals and aspirations. They meant nothing to him.

Was it Sunday already? Monday? Had I missed the campus tour? It was a silly thought, I realized that, but how long would I be missing before someone discovered I was gone? Would Cillian be alarmed at my no-show on Tuesday and call the police, or will he simply call one of the other girls to cover in my absence?

My mind whirled with all kinds of questions, concocting all sorts of imagery, making him out to be someone not unlike a beast, a creep, a sociopath. Not unlike the devil I had declared he was. I envisioned him with horns and dry, cracked skin, long talon-like nails, and discolored eyes. But all of that didn't help me.

At some point, I had drifted off to sleep and awoke to an empty screen. When I stirred, the screen activated, displaying the contract again. The soft voice cooed, "Before you is a contract--."

"--Shut up." I groaned.

I clasped my hands over my ears and turned into the wall, away from the screen, and tried to find sleep again, but the growing stomach pains prevented that. I fought to keep the bile down and to will my stomach to calm.

I don't know how long I stayed like that, curled into the fetal position on the floor before I unraveled myself. Using the wall for support, I pulled myself up.

At that moment, I realized there was no other way forward other than signing, and by doing so, maybe that would give me the chance to escape. He said I would be released; I had to trust he was going to keep his word.

It was only ninety days. If I couldn't find a way out, then I just had to endure ninety days. That was it.

"What reassurance do I have that you aren't going to steal me away or that you will honor your part of the agreement?

The screen turned back again as the typed message appeared.

Skepticism is natural. You won't know until you sign, but I can promise, I have no intentions of stealing you away from your life, only changing the dynamic."

The contract reappeared.

I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, released it slowly, and stepped forward. The screen activated with my touch, and a black line followed my finger, signing my name above the line. The moment I signed, the contract disappeared, and a click sounded from above.

The room quickly filled with the same colorless vapor, but this time I couldn't hide from it. I panicked, swallowing the mist. The drug took effect, and I crumpled to the ground in a dizzy haze.