"You're a virgin." I whisper and she nods her head.

"Y-yes."

I smile at her want and suddenly withdraw my finger. She whimpers and her once arched back meets the mattress once more.

I stand, trying to ignore my throbbing cock. It's hard as a rock, but she must learn her lesson.

"You will learn to not deny me, Amelia."

Chapter Six: Amelia.

I LIE STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking about what led me here.

My father's mistakes. I feel like a fool for working so hard over the years, only to be handled so aggressively by a man who holds me captive. The years that I've spent sheltered, all of the hard work... this is what it has all amounted to.

Not to mention the fact that he built up so much need in me. A need that I never knew existed. In a sick, terrible way I want him to touch me again. I want to feel his mouth there once more. I want to feel the need wind up so much that it finally gives way and bursts into tiny stars. He's sexy. He's demanding. He's absolutely beautiful. He also brought me so close to the shore, only to leave me in the deep to drown. Now I'm panting like a dumbass, craving his touch.

No. I'm an idiot if I want what he can give me. He's kidnapped me and forcefully touched me, regardless of whether or not it was pleasant. I didn't ask for it. I... I didn't want it.

You're lying, Amelia.

Furthermore, why would my father owe this man money?

Gabe. Who is Gabe?

I jump when the door creaks open and Gabe comes sauntering in. It looks as if he just worked out. He's wearing sweatpants, tennis shoes and no shirt. He is everything muscle; strong arms leading to a broad chest, and from there, narrowed hips. His body calls to me, and I can feel the moisture between my legs once more. My breathing picks up as I squeeze my thighs together.

His eyes travel down my nude body as he stalks towards the bed. His hair is unruly from the hours he must have been gone working out and his body is glistening from the sweat.

My eyes stay locked onto his, and the bed dips as he lays on his stomach. He doesn't say a word as he pushes my legs apart, and I allow them to fall open. I don't know why I'm giving in. I want to physically slap some sense into myself, but that's impossible with my hands being bound.

He runs a finger through my folds and a hushed moan escapes my lips. My eyelids begin to fall as lust overtakes me.

"Do you want me to help you escape?" He whispers and I shake my head - knowing he doesn't mean opening the door and letting me go.

"No?" He asks and begins circling my clit with his thumb.

If he wants me to give him the okay to touch me... pleasure me... I can't. I can't, but dammit, my mind is screaming. I feel the warmth spread through me as my body recognizes the impending orgasm. What would I be if I told him yes? Weak? Disgusting? I hate this ping-pong match occurring with my conscience.

"You want this, Amelia. Don't deny it." He says casually as he stops all movement.

Tears begin to leak from my eyes once more, because I know that I'm going to give in eventually, because my damned body loves nothing more than to betray me. So, I do. I can't continue to let him torment me in this way. He wants me to submit? I will, selfishly. I will pretend that he's my lover. Not my captor.

"Yes." I rasp.

"What was that?" He asks.

"Yes, Master." I whisper.

He begins circling my clit in slow motions once more, "Yes Master, what?"

I moan as he quickens the pace, "I-I don't want you to stop Master, please."

He inserts a finger inside of my entrance and I buck my hips.

He kisses my inner thigh as he continues to watch me, "You want to come for me, Amelia?"

"Yes, Master."

"Has anyone ever made you come before me?" He asks. My eyes dart to his as I contemplate my answer.

"No, Master."

I swear I hear him growl as he positions himself between my legs. I gasp when he frees his erection from his pants and begins stroking his length. I've never seen a man's arousal before, and his is intimidating. I'm suddenly kicking myself for giving into his touch.

"Do you want this?" He asks. I now feel my arousal trickling from my entrance.

I look from his erection to him eagerly as I press my lips together. I can't give that part of myself to a monster. A man who calls himself my master. He wants my virginity. I can't give him that. Not willingly.

He smirks knowingly.

His thumb continues to circle my mound as he pumps himself harder and faster. I continue to grind against him - feeling myself winding tight, eager for release.

Finally, the shockwaves reverberate throughout my body. I tremble with each wave the orgasm has to offer. I feel a warmth spread across my stomach, and look down where he deposited his seed onto my skin.

My lip quivers as my head rolls to the side. I feel absolute shame. He came all over me. I can't help but feel like a useless piece of garbage, a broken toy that he will use as he sees fit.

I hear a dark chuckle as he tucks himself back into his pants and frees me from my makeshift restraint.

"Get up." He says - his voice husky.

I do, because my voice doesn't matter and any hesitation on my part will likely not go unpunished. I follow behind him into the bathroom where he turns on the shower, the steam almost immediately surrounds us. He strips himself bare and reaches out for me. I think about running while he's so vulnerable, but my fear gets the better of me as I step into the water with him. He gently places a finger under my chin and tilts my head up.

"I will fuck you. Maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but I will and when I do you will beg for more."

My gaze falls to the tiled floor, and all I can do is look at the water surrounding my toes. I know he's right, and there isn't a thing that I can do to stop it.

Chapter Seven: Gabe.

"AH, MR. JACKSON. YOU'RE RATHER QUIET TONIGHT." I murmur as I examine this poor soul. His limbs have been rendered useless from The Rack. His right eye is non-existent from the hot tar I've regularly dripped into it. The rest of his body is covered in blisters from the Lead Sprinkler. I'll need to dispose of him soon, but I figured sweet Amelia would want to meet my other houseguest eventually. She's only been stuck with me for the week that she's been here.

Speaking of, my phone buzzes and to my surprise it is dear old dad. I can only assume that he's checking up on his beautiful daughter. Perhaps I'll even get his blessing, though I imagine that's unlikely.

"Tony! It's a pleasure to hear from you once more!" I say enthusiastically.

I hear heavy breathing on the other end, "Gabe, you sick son-of-a-bitch, you let her go! She has nothing to do with this!"

I smile as I adjust Mr. Jackson's bow-tie around his neck. I've managed to dress him in a lime green shirt and a polka dot bow-tie - no pants though, only his undies. Now he looks like the clown that he is. I pretend to "honk" his nose playfully before responding, "Now, now Tony. I can't do that. We're having a small get together tonight." I wave my hand dramatically, "I would have invited you, but I know you've been so busy with the campaigns that I figured it would be best not to bother you."

"I-I will find you, Gabe. I'm a powerful man."

I smirk, "Ah yes, a powerful bankrupt man. You'll never find me or her until I have the money that's owed."

I hear his breathing calm, "How long do I have?"

I chuckle, "I'll let you know when I grow tired of her. For now - we're having loads of fun."

"YOU SON-OF-A-"

I snap the phone shut and my gaze finds Mr. Jackson's single working eye, "It's a good thing Mrs. Jackson paid up, otherwise she'd be in the same hot seat as greedy Mr. Mayor."

"Amelia, you look stunning as usual." I whisper as I approach her. She's standing in front of the mirror, her hair pulled up elegantly. The diamond teardrop earrings that I gave her capture the light perfectly. She's wearing the form fitting silk gown that I bought her, though I like her better with no clothing at all.

I stand behind her, our gaze locking onto each other's in the mirror, she sighs when I plant a soft kiss on her bare shoulder.

She's training wonderfully and she continues to respond to my touch, which is fantastic. I can't wait to bury myself deep inside of her, but I want her to see my true self first. I want her to know why and how I'm such a successful man. A man she should bow down to.

"We're having a small dinner party, I do hope that you do not mind entertaining a guest, darling."

Her eyes grow wide and fill with hope, it takes everything in me not to smile in amusement.

I lead her to the formal dining room, she's taken aback by its beauty. The sleek, black table seats twelve, but I have set it for three; me at the head of the table of course, Amelia to my right and my guest directly across from her. I show her to her seat and she looks surprised when I swiftly secure the chain around her ankle under the table. I have a feeling that she will want to run after my surprise guest shows.

I walk to the kitchen and place the steaks cooked to rare perfection, along with the fingerling potatoes and asparagus that I've prepared onto a tray before walking back to the dining room. I serve equal helpings to the three plates and she grimaces as she watches the blood seep from the meat. Annoyed, I grab her chin and yank her face towards mine, "Do not be rude, Amelia." She swallows audibly as her gaze drops back to her plate.

"Now, I am going to go fetch our guest... Try not to stare, he isn't looking too attractive these days." I pause and laugh, "Who am I kidding? He never was!"

Amelia remains motionless as I make my way to my study. I tap in the code and the secret door opens to my play room. I already have Mr. Jackson strapped into a wheelchair so I can move him easily to the dining room. He has puss leaking from his eye, along with the other nasty openings that are visible on his body. A mixture of drool and blood drip from his bottom lip. I've ripped his tongue to shreds, so I doubt he'll be able to eat much.

Chapter Eight: Amelia.

I'VE FOUGHT MY RESTRAINT RELENTLESSLY, to no avail. A defeated sigh escapes me when I realize that the table is bolted down. It seems my Master is prepared for everything.

My mouth waters - my stomach threatening to give way if I even try to put the raw meat into my mouth. It looks to have been seared momentarily on each side, the middle remaining completely uncooked. I don't even eat meat.

My eyes dart to the entrance as I hear the squeaking of wheels accompanied by footsteps. Gabe has the dining room dimly lit. A single candle flickers in between our trio of plates and there are sconces throughout, offering a low light. I cannot make out the person until he gets closer. Once I see him, my hand flies to my mouth and tears spring to my eyes.

Gabe parks the man in the wheelchair right across from me before sitting at the head of the table.

"Let's dig in." He says as he ravages his steak.

I feel my stomach twisting and bile rising to the back of my throat. All it takes is some type of bodily fluid to drip from the man's non-existent eye for my stomach to give way. I lean to the side and release the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

"Oh dear." Gabe says before continuing, "Amelia, if you were not feeling well, why didn't you tell me? Look at this mess."

I shakily wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as my eyes meet Gabe's. He looks incensed.

"I do hope you plan to clean that up." He says sternly.

"Y-Yes, Master." I manage to whisper.

He leans back in his chair as he stares at me intently, "So what was it? The rare steak or the grotesque Mr. Jackson?"

"Oh, neither Master, I'm just not-"

I jump when his fist slams down onto the table, "Do not lie to me."

I feel the tears run down my cheeks, "Both, Master."

"Ah." He says as he stands and puts his hands behind his back, "Silly me, I forget that I've become accustomed to such sights in my line of work."

My lip trembles as I try to spit out the question.

As if he reads my mind, he stops abruptly, "Well, go on. Ask me."

"What i-is your line of w-work?" I stammer and I jump once more when he claps his hands together.

"I thought you'd never ask, Amelia!" He walks towards the man that he refers to as Mr. Jackson, "This is my line of work."

"I don't understand." I whisper.

"People pay me to take care of problems Mr. Jackson here, was a problem."

My eyes grow wide as he reaches over the man to retrieve a steak knife, "See, not only was he a problem for his wife, he's also a problem for you I can't do anything about that dead cow on your plate, but I can do something about Mr. Jackson."

Before a scream can escape my lips, he impales the knife into the man's neck and begins moving it in and out, his eyes never leaving mine. Blood is going everywhere, on Gabe... the table.

I scramble from my chair and a mixture of sobs and screams escape me.

Before I know it, Gabe has me on my back and is screaming in my face like a wild animal. Once I stop, he does as well. A twisted smile displays on his handsome face, his beauty betraying the pure evil pumping through his veins.