After her bath, Jake took Kate into the living room. Still nude, she asked him if she could put her clothes back on, but he denied her request, simply stating that he liked to watch her ass cheeks jiggle when she walked too much for that. He built a fire in the small fireplace, instead. The heat it generated helped to alleviate Kate's chills, but not her embarrassment at having to walk around naked while Jake remained fully clothed and as condescending as ever, his eyes constantly violating her body even when his hands were nowhere near her.
Jake made her lay down on the couch, and, sitting on the floor by her side, began to methodically kiss and lick her jaw, slowly working his way down her neck and across her throat until he reached her breasts. Kate lay quiet, lost in her own thoughts as he took her nipple into his mouth and began to suck on it, delicately at first, then increasingly harder. She began to wince as his lips gripped the tiny pebble-like morsel more firmly, as she was still sensitive from the clips he had assaulted her with earlier.
He was molesting her other breast with his fingertips as he did this, and the combination of pain and forbidden pleasure confused Kate. She wasn't supposed to like this - he was sexually assaulting her. Only a slut would derive so much pleasure out of being abused this way, right? Of course this was not true; Kate couldn't help her body's reactions to Jake's teasing fingertips. But somewhere along the way, Jake had instilled this notion in Kate, wanting her to be as disgraced as possible by the things he was doing to her body . . . and her mind. It had worked, and Kate hated herself for getting herself into this situation, and for reacting so strongly to his advances.
Just then, Jake raked his teeth over her nipple savagely, tearing her from her thoughts. She wailed and pushed his head away. She expected him to force himself on her again and prepared herself for yet another struggle, but he left her chest alone, deciding to concentrate on her stomach instead.
Kate wished he would do something else, even if it involved inflicting more pain on her now stinging nipples. She had always despised her stomach. She was painfully aware that she didn't have abs like Britney Spears' - most girls don't, but that wasn't the issue - and no matter how many crunches she did, she couldn't seem to get rid of the extra layer of flab around her mid section which prevented her from wearing bikinis and fitted tops with confidence. It seemed that Jake had somehow managed to zero in on one of her biggest insecurities, and was now exploiting it with glee, plunging his tongue in and out of her belly button as if it were a mini-vagina. Kate wanted to disappear.
Finally, Kate experienced her first stroke of good luck since the nightmare had begun: a phone rang. Jake looked irritated, but quit tongue-fucking her belly button and walked into the kitchen where he unlocked a briefcase and pulled out a cell phone. Turning his back on her, he began to converse with whomever was calling in a hushed, annoyed tone.
Temporarily forgotten, Kate wasted no time in soundlessly slipping off of the couch and tiptoing to the front door of the cabin. This was her chance. If she could only make it out the door, she could flag down traffic and get help, then it would all be finished with and she could wake up from this nightmare. It almost seemed too good to be true, but there it was: Her hand reaching out for the doorknob. Behind her, she could hear Jake still speaking in a low voice, unaware of what was taking place only a few feet away.
She turned the handle noiselessly and pulled, but to her horror, the door wouldn't budge. It was then that she saw that it was dead bolted shut. Frustrated, she hurried to unlock it, but found that her fingers weren't strong enough to push the sticking lock open. She looked around wildly, searching for another way out, but her mind - and legs - seemed to have frozen. Dimly, she heard Jake say that he had to go, and switch the phone off. Then he had her by the hair once more, pulling her back to the couch.
