Taen

Thank you so much for the comments and favs! Here's part two and I have plans for more. As I said before, this is a non-con fantasy.

Taken: Part 2

Try as she might, it was impossible for Emma to stay awake. She could remember being dropped into what could only be the trunk of a car and after what felt like hours of dismal silence, she drifted off to sleep, no longer able to fight off the drug's effect.

-

The ride out of the city and into the country was a long one. Nick could hardly stand it himself. As he drove, he mused over how they would spend their first night together, him and his little slave. He lifted the fingers of his right hand off the steering wheel and rubbed them together, some of her wetness still coating them. He had thought about it for so long, he was cursed with riches of options, each more tempting than the last. Of course he didn't want to frighten her too terribly on their first night together and have her shut down completely. If he had any hope of making this work, he would need to be kinder to her tonight. That is, if she behaved.

Finally he came to his turn off the expressway. He drove through the quiet village and checked his watch. 11:15 pm. Plenty of time for fun. He made a right and drove for thirty minutes more, passing only two other properties on the way. He made a left, passing the stone walls that lined his modest estate and continued down a brush-lined dirt road for another ten minutes. Pulling up in front of the large cottage he'd purchased several years back thanks to some keen investing, he felt finally that he had made it. Nothing more stood in the way between him and his slave.

-

Emma was slow to wake. Her head felt strangely light. Her eyes felt heavy and she couldn't open them when she tried. Her entire body, in fact, felt strung out. Both literally and figuratively. As she fought against her own consciousness, she tried to remember what had happened. Was she that jet-lagged from her trip? She felt half-hungover. No, no, she wasn't flying anywhere...she was going to take the train.

My jaw hurts, she thought, noting the strange sound she emitted as she tried to make sense of her surroundings....That's odd.

Suddenly, memories of her harrowing home invasion came slamming back. All the grogginess was slapped out of her. She tried to open her eyes, but something thick and dark had been placed over them, leaving her completely blind.

Oh my god, she thought. Where am I? What happened?

Instinctively, she bit down and realized that there was something in her mouth, but it wasn't cloth. She was still restrained, but it was different this time. She lying on her side, stretched out on something soft. Her arms were no longer taped, but bound with rope behind her back. She moved slowly and slightly trying to make sense of it without being able to see. Her arms were folded behind her, her forearms felt as though they were covered in lengths of rope from wrist to elbow. Her hands were free, but completely useless. All she could do was make a fist. It felt like more rope was tied on her upper arms and strung together, continuing up around her shoulders to her front. She shifted again, whimpering as she realized the rope was wrapped around her breasts before rejoining the back, keeping her arms pinned in place. Mercifully, she could still feel the thin fabric of her night clothes straining against the rope. Her legs it seemed were free but she felt so breathless with fear, the thought of trying to run seemed impossible.

I can't even see where I'm going...or where I am. She thought, a shiver jolting through her.

She lay in total silence for several moments, gingerly testing the bonds that had been forced onto her in her sleep. Her teeth dug into the rubbery ball that filled her mouth and she thought briefly of trying to dislodge it with her tongue, but she could feel the straps digging into the corners of her mouth and felt it would be a fruitless effort.

Suddenly, she felt a large hand on her bare thigh.

Emma yelped, trying to wriggle away. The bed dipped on her right and she realized he must have been sitting beside her now. She tried to pull back, but only managed to rock pitifully. He hand kneaded at her flesh before drifting further up. To her great discomfort, he didn't say anything. He hardly made a sound. Emma took short, shallow breaths through her nose and considered saying something, anything to make him stop but she knew deep down it would do her no good.

Probably only spur him on, she thought, fear and hatred battling in her head.

His hand reached her chest and his thumb and index finger plucked at her nipple, not hard enough to hurt but more than enough to draw her attention. Emma tried in earnest to struggle away but he was leaning over her now, the size of his body pressing against her. Then she felt his fingers pull the fabric away from her skin and heard the distinct sound of scissors cutting through fabric. She mewled in protest and wondered if her knee was positioned in a way where she could aim a good kick. He repeated the action again and with a hard tug, began to rip the fabric from her breasts, leaving them naked and exposed. Flushing, Emma changed tactics and tried to roll onto her stomach and find cover in the sheets.

Finally, she heard him chuckle. "It's a little late for modesty, princess."

The sound of his voice, so dark and pompous, made another chill wrack through her.

As if to prove his point, he abandoned her chest and shifted on the bed. She whined as he tugged at the hem of her night dress and slipped a hand underneath. His other hand caught the side of her waist and held her down, halting her struggles with maddening ease. His finger brushed against her and Emma gasped, realizing only then that he had already relieved her of her underwear. Her heart raced as his fingers slowly massaged deftly between her folds.

She whimpered, trembling against the strange sensation. It had been years since she'd been with anyone, weeks since she'd even considered taking the time to play with herself and here was a complete stranger with a finger practically inside of her! As if he'd read her mind, he pushed the digit in deeper. Emma groaned into her gag, knowing what was coming.

"Still wet," He said, his mouth near her ear. "Wetter than before, I think."

Emma shook her head emphatically even as she could feel his fingers exploring her wetness. He continued in silence, rubbing circles around her clit and pressing into it with more pressure every so often. Emma squirmed in his grasp, unable to contain her whines. After a while her limbs felt weak and shaky and her mewling got louder. She had been touched before but never like this and never for so long. He never increased the speed, even as she wrestled with a cursed part of her that wanted him to.

Why is he doing this? She thought helplessly.

Just when she was certain she couldn't take any more he pulled his hand away. She moaned, shivering all over.

"Such a good girl." He whispered, his breath hot against her neck.

Emma felt her flush deepen. He'd called her that before. Every time he said it, she felt stabs of adrenaline shoot through her gut like carefully aimed arrows. She didn't like it.

"You know, Emma." He said, rising off the bed. "I'd promise myself to go easy on you tonight, but you're certainly making it difficult. I really can't hold back any longer."

Emma mumbled a string of curses at him, but they sounded like nothing coming out of her tightly gagged mouth.

The man only chuckled and Emma thought she heard the sound of a zipper. Her heart was beating in her throat as he sat on the bed again, this time behind her. Emma tried to struggled away but he pulled her in until her bound arms hit his bare chest. Emma squealed and tried to push him off, but she could do nothing.

She felt his hands on her tits again, rubbing and massaging them. His knee came between her legs and pushed up against her slit. He began to play with her nipples again, his fingers expertly working the small buds until they became stone-hard.

Emma whined into her gag. Cursing at herself. She jolted as she felt his tongue on her neck.

"Just breathe, darling." He said, his knuckles running up and down against her nipples.

Emma's back arched against him. She felt a familiar but rare heat bubbling up in her chest.

It's feels...fuck. God! He can't do this. I can't let him! She thought, but she was powerless to stop him and unable to ignore the sensations he was putting her through.

His fingers continued to work her nipples, pulling and tugging not so hard as to hurt all that badly but enough to keep teasing that burning sensation growing in her center until she went stiff for a moment, colorful spots dancing before the darkness in her eyes and she melted into a shivering puddle.

"Aww, sweetheart..." She heard him say, as he pulled away from her again "Did you come already?"

"Mphnooo!" Emma practically shouted, even as her head spun and spun. She felt tears leaking from the corner of her eyes as a million different emotions swirled in her head.

I-I didn't, I couldn't have!

"Deny it all you want..." She felt him move towards the end of the bed and he grabbed at her legs. She tried to avoid his hands but he caught her easily under the knees and pulled her around so that she was laying fully on her back. She grunted, trying to move her arms into a more comfortable position. "...but now it's my turn."

Emma shook her head again, but he was already there; his hands pushing her legs up and out, leaving her completely exposed. She felt something hard and hot against her slit.

"It's only fair, love." He said, rubbing his hard cock against her entrance in a slow, practiced motion before pushing into her with one even thrust.

Emma's back arched fully with a long cry as she took the length of him. His hands left her legs and fell to either side of her head and he pulled out and in again, his thrusts growing harder and faster.

"Fuck." He sighed, his lips on her neck, "Fuck, you feel good."

Emma groaned as he pushed his length all the way inside her again, holding for a moment as his teeth grated against her skin.

"My little fucking slut." He growled, thrusting out and in, until finally he came.

Emma moaned as he collapsed on top of her before rolling over onto his back beside her. Her head was spinning and her heart pounding as she gasped for air. She bit into the gag, the tears flowing freely from under the blindfold.

Is that...it? She wondered, feeling more tired than she had ever felt before. Is it over?

She jolted as he grabbed for her, pulling her closer. She wanted to struggle away but she didn't have the energy.

"You should get some sleep, princess." She heard him say, his voice raw. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

Tomorrow? Emma thought, her hopes shattering. Who is this man...and what does he want from me?

He made no move to release her from the restraints. Instead he merely pulled her to the side so that she could sleep more comfortably with her hands still tied behind her. She felt his fingers brush the hair from her sweat-sheened forehead.

With no way to see or free herself, Emma relented, falling quickly into a deep sleep.

-

Emma woke to a bright light and the sounds of birds. This time, when she opened her eyes she found that she could see. To her immense relief, all of the restraints had been removed and she was nestled under a large, fluffy duvet. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, grabbing at the duvet to keep herself covered and looked around the room. In the morning light, the room was nothing like she expected. It looked like nothing more than a country house. With painted wood walls and old wood floors. The bedframe was wood and looked antique, as did the other furniture in the room. There was a small door that led into a modest looking bathroom to the left. The windows across from her shower the tops of trees so she could only be on the second or third floor-

"Good Morning."

Emma jumped.

Her kidnapper stood in the doorway carrying a tray in his hands, a paper tucked under his arm. He was clothed in a pair of sweatpants and a fitted navy t-shirt. She looked him up and down, lips pursed in a thin line as she held the sheets tightly against he chest. He was, to her surprise, not terrible-looking. Nor was he all that older than her. He seemed fit for what she guessed his age to be, a few years older than her at least. On a better day, if she'd merely passed him on the street, she might've even thought he was handsome. He was tall with broad shoulders that barely allowed him to fit in the doorway. His hair was rusty red in color, thick and wavy, somewhat tussled from the night's unfortunate events. He had gray eyes, a somewhat large nose and a severe jaw.

He stepped towards the bed and Emma flinched backwards. But he merely set the tray on the bed in front of her and stepped back, lowering himself into the chair by the window. Emma stared down at the tray, dumbfounded. There was a cup of tea, steaming hot and smelling of lemon, along with a small plate bearing a piece of toast and several pieces of melon. She kept her eyes trained on it for a moment longer before looking up at him. He had one leg hitched over the other.

"Well," he said, waving a hand at the tray. "Eat."

He opened the paper and held it up to read it, casting a swift glance over the top. Emma cast a weary eye towards to open door he entered from but realized he was a lot closer to it than she was. It would be stupid to make a run for it. She cursed herself under her breath but reached for the tray anyway. Seemingly placated, the man fluffed his paper and turned his full attention to it, allowing her to eat in relative privacy.

She did, taking slow bites and sips as the man read his paper. He didn't look up from it once, not until he heard her take a long, last sip from the mug and set it down on the tray with a small clatter.

"Now Emma." He said, closing the paper and folding it neatly in his lap. "No doubt you have many questions. I have a few of my own. For every question you answer honestly, you'll earn ten minutes of time alone. Additionally, if I'm pleased with your answers, I'll grant you an offering. A night away from me in your own space to do as you please. Do we have a deal?"

Emma swallowed, the cogs in her mind working at warp speed. The rebellious side of her wanted to say no to anything he offered her, but she couldn't deny it seemed like a pretty good deal. The kind she couldn't pass up. She nodded.

"Good girl," He said, moving the paper to a small side table. "I'm feeling rather generous today so I'll let you go first."

He was right. She had a thousand questions, it was difficult to settle on just one. She chose to keep things simple.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My given name is of no importance to you," he said, dismissively. "You can call me Master or Sir, whichever pleases you."

Nothing about this pleases me, Emma thought, fighting to contain a scoff.

"My turn." He said, the corner of his mouth turning up. Emma fumed silently, he was enjoying this. It made her sick.

"Had you ever been tied up before last night?" He asked.

Emma flushed. "No."

"Have you ever fantasized about it?" He continued, bringing his hands together and touching the tips of his fingers to his mouth.

"I thought it was my turn," Emma snapped.

He lifted one hand, a dangerous glint sparking in his slate-gray eyes.

"Careful, Emma." He said, the edge in his voice causing another shiver to run through her. "I won't tolerate that sort of tone."

She took a long breath in and out through her nose and crossed her arms over her chest, but she didn't retort.

"Answer the question." He ordered.

"No." She said, "Never."

"And how did you find it?" He asked casually, as if he were one of those teens parked on the bridge accosting people with inane surveys.

"I don't like it." Emma said, quickly. Too quickly in Nick's mind.

He raised a brow. "Remember Emma, only honest answers will get you those precious minutes alone."

"It is the truth," she insisted.

"Is it?" Nick pressed. "I'd say those orgasms tell another story."

Emma huffed, her cheeks going pink. "That's not- it doesn't mean...you were doing things to me, I had no control over-"

"Perhaps." He interrupted. "But you can't tell me honestly you didn't find it a pleasurable experience...if only for a moment."

"I-! What do you know about-" Emma practically shouted, growing more frustrated by the second. She stopped herself, seeing that glint return to his eye. She swallowed her insult down, the writing on the wall clear. A night alone was too much to pass up.

"Alright...I don't know." She relented, telling herself it was all a lie. "I guess."

He seemed satisfied. "That's better."

There was a beat of silence.

"Your turn." He said.

Emma bit down on her lip. Oh now it's my turn, she thought. She deflated some, thinking through her questions.

"...Why me?" she said, finally. To her surprise and horror, he merely shrugged.

"I saw you on the Baker line." He answered simply. "Not once but a few times. It didn't take long to realize you were the one."

"The one for what?" Emma asked, regretting the question immediately. She wanted to take it back but he beat her to it.

"I've always fantasized about having a little fuck toy." He said. Emma cringed at the label, the way he said it, emphasizing each word with pent up adulation. "A girl I could own and tease and control."

His eyes grazed up and down her body and he smiled. "You fit the bill, sweetheart."

Emma sucked in another breath, she could feel herself starting to panic all over again. "Aren't there plenty of willing women to-to put up with this?"

"There are," Nick said thoughtfully. "I've fooled around with quite a few of them. Guess that's how I learned all this. But unfortunately for you, even the best of amateur actresses don't compare to the real thing. At least, that's what I've always assumed."

He paused, revisiting the night before in quick detail in his head.

"Turns out I was right." He said finally.

Emma felt her throat go dry, the food in her stomach swirled uncomfortably.

"Will you ever let me go?" She asked, her voice going quiet. She looked down at her hands in her lap.

He just laughed. "No. A lot of planning went into this, Emma. It would be foolish to just let you go."

"Will you...will you kill me?" She asked, feeling as though she could cry or vomit.

He was silent. She looked up to see his face had gone dark. He straightened in his chair.

"I may be a sadist, Emma," he said slowly. "I may get off on tying you down and controlling you completely, but I'm no murderer and I have no intentions of becoming one."

He seemed deathly serious for a moment, then all of that dropped away and he assumed a more casual position.

"If I play my cards right and if you're open to it, I'm certain you will come to be happy here."

He seemed sincere. It was entirely bizarre.

"How could I possibly be?" Emma said, imploringly. The question hung heavy in the morning air.

"I think that's enough for now." Nick said, standing up. Emma couldn't help but draw back again. "You did fairly well and I am a man of my word."

A kidnapper of his word. A sadist...of his word. Emma thought to herself.

He stepped up to the bed and pulled a key from his pants pocket.

"Get up." He said, his voice more clipped and serious than it had ben before.

She jumped from bed in spite of herself, hating that she complied so easily. To her surprise he handed her a robe. It was thin and silky, but she grabbed it and slipped into it quickly, feeling far better to be covered up.

"Follow me." He said, walking towards the door.