This is a work of fiction. I do not condone any violence or rape in real life.
I am particularly excited to share this chapter with you, as it contains some ideas I have been looking forward to writing about since the story's very first planning stages. It is also a slightly longer chapter, as I really wanted to package these scenes together. Please do share any constructive feedback.
WhisperingLilac
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It had been hours before Seth had come and unlocked Violet from the handcuffs. He did not say a word to her, not when she cried as each sore limb was freed, nor when she cautiously stood up to test how much moving would hurt her whipped behind, nor when she climbed into the shower to wash away the cum he had painted her back with. Likewise, she did not say a word to him, not when he shut the cuffs back in the 'Torture Drawer', nor when he picked the broken plate and discarded food up off the floor, nor when he exited the room once again. Something monumental had shifted within their relationship. Seth could not pretend Violet was just an object anymore.
The man's kind side had entirely evaporated. He would come in at random intervals to fuck her, at least twice a day. At times she would beg him not to, but he'd only ignore her, so she mostly just tried to zone out. Once or twice he'd start to get her off too, rubbing her clit and playing with her nipples, but every single time he would leave her climax free, frustrated and ashamed. Violet never masturbated; she had wanted to, she had actually come very close to doing it, but it felt too much like giving it, letting him win. If she was lucky, he'd remember to bring in a sandwich or a bowl of pasta, which she would pick at after she had been used. She didn't have much of an appetite anymore.
Violet longed for some form of entertainment - a TV or a tablet or a couple of books would make her life just slightly more bearable. Instead, with nothing to fill her time, and barely any human contact, Violet had to find alternative ways to keep herself busy. Sometimes she would turn the shower on cold and stand under it for hours, pretending she was caught in a rain storm. Sometimes she would just count and count to see how high she could get before forgetting what number she was on. But most of the time she would just think. About her family, about her past relationships, her favourite TV shows or the shops she used to go to. The thing she liked to think about best, however, was escape. Ways she could break out of this nightmare. Most were not feasible; she couldn't dig a tunnel under her bed or convince Seth to let her free. She also figured that he would not be stupid enough to leave his front door unlocked, where a slip-up could lead to her freedom. She had seen, however, from her brief visit to the kitchen/diner and the living room that both had windows she supposed she could fit through. So, she had settled on getting out through a window. Now she just had to work out how to get to one in the first place.
Initially, Violet had planned to wait it out until her captor decided to let her into the kitchen or living room again, but with each passing day, the likelihood of that ever happening seemed smaller and smaller. Instead, she would have to find her own way out of the room and into the rest of the cabin. There was a small portion of time where the door was unlocked as Seth entered the room, before he had a chance to lock it behind himself. Violet didn't think there was any way to sneak through or dart past him without getting caught. Thus, the only option seemed to incapacitate him.
Next problem: Violet needed a weapon. She was never strong to begin with, and supposed the lack of real nutrition combined with the mental toll of her situation had left her weak, so there was no way she could overpower him. However, there wasn't anything obvious she could use to stun him; the room was so bare, there was no lamp or weighty doorstop to hit him round the head with. In fact, the best tool she had come up with so far was her hairbrush, but she didn't really think that would do enough damage.
On it went; Seth entered the room. He fucked Violet. She imagined she was somewhere else. He orgasmed. He left the room. She would plot her escape.
One afternoon, several days after the whipping (Violet couldn't be sure how long it had been, exactly, but she guessed about a week), the girl was sat on the bed, her pussy aching after a recent fucking, eating a chicken salad sandwich. The food was on a plastic plate; after the previous incident, where the plate had ended up smashed on the floor, all of Violet's meals had been served on plastic tablewear. If only she was still given a ceramic plate, she could have smashed it and used one of the pieces as a dagger. If she stabbed the man, surely he would be so shocked and pained she could get into the hallway before he knew what was happening. A sudden thought came to her. The glass! The goddamn glass! How could she have been so stupid to forget the glass?
Violet raced to the bathroom to check, as if the glass that had been on the side of the sink since day one would have magically disappeared since she last used it an hour ago. It was still there. The girl felt so relieved and so excited, she couldn't help but kiss the glass; it symbolised the first real sliver of hope she had at getting out. She dashed back into the bedroom and yanked the case off the pillow. Wrapping the pillowcase a couple of times around it to muffle the sound, and praying that her plan would actually work, Violet hit the glass as hard as she could against the sink. Through the pillowcase she could feel it shatter and she almost collapsed to her knees in relief. Unfolding the fabric, she found a long, sharp shard which seemed perfect for the job. Now it was a waiting game.
Hours passed, dragging by even more than they usually did, until finally Violet could hear the sound she had come to know all too well: the heavy footsteps approaching and pausing outside the door for a few moments; she was never sure if the pause was just her captor finding the key for the lock, or if he was preparing himself for what he was about to do. Either way, it gave Violet enough time to scurry behind the door, weapon in hand. The shard of glass shook as the girl's nervous hands trembled; if her plan didn't work, the consequences didn't bear thinking about. Maybe Seth would decide that she was too much hassle and kill her, but Violet supposed it was worth the risk.
The door opened and Violet could sense Seth's initial confusion at not seeing her in her usual position, curled up or sat on the bed. He took another step into the room and the girl shot forward, taking her opportunity and stabbing the man deep in his bicep, deep enough that when she released the piece of glass, it remained embedded in his flesh. A thunderous bellow informed Violet that her action had had the desired effect and she sprinted past her kidnapper before he had a chance to understand what had occurred. The girl recalled that the door straight on from her bedroom had led to the kitchen, so she lunged into the room and saw that, miraculously, the window was already open. Appreciative of the few extra seconds she had saved by not having to open the window herself, especially as she could now hear the unmistakable sound of a furious man's feet pounding on the floor not far behind her, Violet scrambled onto the countertop and dived through without a second thought.
Landing on the grass beneath with a thud, the girl didn't allow herself even a millisecond to rest. Instead, she leapt up and raced forwards. It became immediately obvious the cabin was primarily surrounded by woodland. Next to the car Violet had been taken in (she guessed, as she had only ever seen the inside of the boot), there was also a dirt road but, while she imagined she was more likely to be spotted by a stranger who could help her along the road, it would also allow her captor to easily track her and follow her by car. Thus, onwards she ran, into the woods.
The ground was soggy and uneven, with fallen leaves and branches littering the floor. The girl stumbled and tripped every few paces, but her adrenaline powered her on. After a few minutes of relentless running, however, it began to wear off and it soon became obvious that Violet was ill-equipped for a race through the woods: her bare feet were sore and likely bleeding from the countless twigs and stones she had trampled over; her breasts swung uncomfortably against her chest with every hurried stride; she was weak and already losing the small amount of stamina she had; low hanging branches from the trees all around scratched and jabbed at her as she passed them; the night air was bitterly cold and without clothes she would surely freeze to death in a matter of hours if she did not find shelter. All the odds were stacked against her. It made her even more determined to succeed.
Yet, after perhaps twenty minutes of dashing through the woodland, Violet was feeling too tired and sore to continue sprinting as she had been. Still she urged on, but at more of a fast walk than a run. Only moments later, she heard a sound behind her. Movement. It could have been a deer or a fox, but the girl's heart filled with terror as she realised it was likely her kidnapper catching up to her. Picking her pace up again, just a little, Violet strained her ears to listen out for the movement. It was getting closer. Closer and closer until she was sure she could hear discernible footsteps.
"Violet!" The shout was indisputably that of Seth. He was angry and he was nearby. The girl tore forwards at an almighty speed in a last-ditch attempt to outrun the man chasing her. The cold air burned through her lungs and twisted her hair into a tangled mess as she powered on. So fast she was travelling that when her foot got caught under a branch, she flew through the air and could not avoid the large rock on the ground that ultimately collided with her head.
Seth could not quite see Violet yet, but he was close enough to hear the sudden ceasing of her footsteps and...a different noise. Like a combination of a knock and a wail. One that he couldn't diagnose but made him queasy. As he caught up to her, he knew something was wrong. The girl was sprawled out face down on the floor, skin covered in scratches, scrapes and mud, completely motionless.
"Violet?" he asked breathlessly, kneeling down beside her and stroking her hair away from her face. The man shuddered as he saw the dark, crimson blood dripping from her forehead down her cheek.
