His Desire

There was a key in the cabinet that was the side he slept on. Tina had seen it twice - once when he'd put it in there and once when he'd taken it out. They had been rather fleeting glances as she'd been looking from the doorway hesitantly, but there was no doubting that it housed a key at times. The thing that had her hopeful the most was the knowledge that the drawer wasn't always locked. It was locked during the night - she'd ended up testing it once, heart frantically caught in her throat the entire time - and it was locked during the times when she was kept in the bedroom, but sometimes he left it unlocked when it was time to leave the bedroom. One time, after he'd taken her picture (that time without her dress on), he'd sent her back into the kitchen and as she'd left he'd gone into the drawer, put something in there and then followed after her. Without having locked it.

Her hope had worn away the longer she thought about it. The knowledge did nothing but torment her. There was no time that she was in the bedroom by herself. That one time she'd been conscious while he'd left the cottage hadn't occurred since, and each time she regained consciousness he was back. And he was too quick, too observant, for her to sneak in there while he was in the toilet.

Besides, he had her on a very strict schedule. She had to make a cooked breakfast, clean the bathroom, spend time in the bedroom with him, make lunch, scrub the floor, be bathed, make dinner, clean up the kitchen, watch him bath, spend more time in the bedroom with him, use the toilet, then go to bed. It was the same routine each day, except sometimes the time in the bedroom could be brief, though that never happened often.

As she drained the pasta in the sink, she wondered whether the boiling water could have been enough to subdue him. He'd stop her before she could even get close, she thought bitterly. Now that he no longer cooked with her, he sat at the table and watched. If she started towards him with a saucepan of boiling water he was going to figure out what she was doing before she reached him. There had been plenty of times when she could have maimed him while he still helped, she'd finally realised. Her fear had kept her placated but now she thought it was foolish that she had never once attempted to harm him while she'd had the chance.

"Is it ready yet?" her captor asked, making her push her hair back and grind her teeth together.

Tina hurriedly emptied the pasta onto the plate she'd laid out and then smothered it with the sauce that had been sitting on the hob. A few pieces dropped onto the floor, one landing on her foot which made her jump back and hiss. She picked up the plate and took it over to him, placing it in front of him. "I tried my best," she said quietly. "Didn't want to disappoint you."

"Aren't you sweet," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her so that she was low enough for him to softly kiss her cheek.

She held back wiping the trace of him away as she scurried back into the kitchen, beginning the clean-up that followed dinner. A small slip-up earlier had meant that she'd lost the privilege of having dinner, something which she had regretted ever since. At least now she knew that asking to go for a walk outside was a no-go. She'd even tried to sweeten the request, saying how she could be cuffed to him and they didn't have to go far, just around the cottage once so that she could feel fresh air again, but that'd just resulted in being hit.

"I would like a knife please," her captor said just as she'd begun to fill the sink up with water. She hurried over to the cutlery drawer only for him to speak again. "A sharp knife."

A flare of dread sparked up as she moved to the drawer that kept all the knives and withdrew one, hesitantly taking it over to him. He took it and placed it next to his plate before continuing to eat, so she went back into the kitchen and moved the saucepans next to the sink. She then filled the sink with washing up liquid, stopping the water before it overflowed, then submerged her hands into the scalding water. Everything from throughout the day was waiting to be washed up and she did each item as he ate, trying to suppress the familiar feeling of hunger. The small meals she was given were barely doing enough to placate her during the day but skipping out on one of them made it feel like she hadn't eaten in days. It was a horrible punishment.

She scrubbed each item thoroughly and kept her eyes firmly on what she was doing. There were three items left when she heard his fork clatter onto the plate, signalling that he was finished. She wiped her hands limply on her dress before going over to the table and picking up the plate, turning to go back to the sink only for her wrist to be grabbed, making her stare at her captor in fear. "On your knees," he said.

"I haven't done anything wrong!" she said.

He pulled on her arm and she obeyed, dropping to her knees and putting the plate next to her. She kept her eyes on the floor as he pushed her shoulder so that her back was to him. What had she done wrong? Was she taking too long with the washing up? She felt him run a hand over her hair in what felt like a caress before he grabbed it tightly at the nape of her neck. She held her breath, uncertain about what was to come, dreading the expected pain, only it didn't come. Instead she felt a slightly tug, and then another, before something was dropped onto her lap.

Horror engulfed her as she stared at the lump of hair that littered her lap. Was that...her hair? Her hands flew to her head and she had to suppress a cry as she felt it tickle her fingers. He'd cut off her hair.

She barely registered as her captor stood from his seat and rested a hand on her head. "I always thought you'd suit short hair," he said before stepping away from her and heading towards the bedroom.

Tina picked up her hair with shaking hands, trying to blink away the tears she couldn't keep away. She'd been robbed of her dignity, suffered through his humiliation and degrading acts, but the loss of her hair struck deep with her. It was the one thing she'd held onto, the knowledge that he could break her down and exercise his painful control over her but could never change her physically. It was the one last thing she had that connected her to the life she had before he'd taken her - everything else had been taken. And now he'd severed that.

She hadn't heard her captor return until his feet briefly entered her line of sight. "Get up," he said.

But she couldn't move. It was hard to breathe and she had to drop the hair and bring her hands up to her mouth to stop a sob escaping. It felt as if she'd lost her entire identity. The one thing she'd been desperate to keep as she'd been stripped of everything else.

Her captor crouched in front of her and grabbed her neck, giving it a harsh squeeze before tilting her head so that she was forced to look at him. "Don't ignore me," he warned.

He was balanced but still unstable and Tina didn't even think twice before she threw herself forward, pushing him onto the floor. There was a moment of shock that stunned him and she took advantage of that by blindly grabbing the plate from beside her and slamming it over his head with all the force she could muster. She then scrambled to her feet and bolted to the bedroom, slamming the door shut as a means of false protection. She rushed over to the bedside drawer on the side he slept and almost cried out in joy when it opened, revealing the key she'd been dying to have.

"Tina!" her captor bellowed.

She jumped and shot the closed door a frantic look before jamming the key into the shackle, her hands shaking terribly as she fumbled with the lock until it suddenly clicked and dropped from her ankle. Just as she was climbing to her feet heavy footsteps approached the closed door, prompting her to jump up and rush to the window, shoving her fingers at the bottom just as the door flew open. The window slid up and as she was about to throw herself through it, her captor got to her, gripping her neck tightly and throwing her onto the bed. She cried out, her glimpse of freedom shattering before her, and scrambled off the other side, her heart thudding frantically as she fled the bedroom, desperate to not be caught.

Tina lunged at the front door, tugging on it several times before backing away, her eyes falling on the doorway to the bedroom where her captor now stood, watching her intently. What had she done? She hadn't thought or planned before acting and now she was still in this cottage, locked in with her captor who would undoubtedly be tremendously angry with her. Her last failed escape attempt lingered in the back of her mind as she backed away, wanting as much distance between them as possible. Her plea died on her lips as he began to stalk towards her.

She darted to the table, the abandoned knife falling into her sight. Without thinking she swiped it up and held it before her, moving around to stand the other side of the table. "Let me go," she said, wiping her cheek with her arm. "Please. I swear I won't tell anyone."

"Will you use that on me?" he asked.

Tina frowned, tightening her grip on the knife's handle. She didn't hear any anger in his voice and yet she knew that he would have stormed at her had she not picked the knife up. "I..." she trailed off, her voice breaking with fear. "I will."

"Are you sure about that, Tina?" There is was, the tone that she'd heard so many times. He used it whenever he belittled her, and she could feel her hand shaking, the doubt taking hold. She wasn't a murderer, but could she use it on him to subdue him? Could she really use it on another person, even if that person was a monster?

She took a shaky breath, keeping her eyes locked on her captor. "I will," she said, holding the knife higher. "So you best let me go."

"I see," he said, before stepping towards the table. She immediately stepped back, her eyes wide. "Don't back away. I want to see you use it on me."

Her mouth went dry and she roughly rubbed her cheek against her arm again. She had no way out. He didn't believe she would actually use it, she didn't believe she'd be able to harm him, but there was no backing out now. He was now the other side of the table and if he wanted to, he could reach out and grab her wrist. That knowledge made her draw her arms in and take another step back, the sweat on her palms making her grip slacken.

"Just--let me go and I won't have to."

"The thing is, I don't feel inclined to let you go. In fact, I'm very fond of you and would really hate to lose you. So how about you put the knife down and we forget about the plate you hit me with? That really hurt, Tina, but I'm willing to forget."

She knew he wouldn't. If she lowered the knife there was no way he'd forget her attempt at escaping. The chains and dark room were her punishment last time - what'd be the punishment this time? She drew the knife in closer to her but didn't put it down. She was sick of worrying about what her next punishment would be.

As if to remind her the shards of china caught the corner of her eye and she had to stop herself dropping her gaze to the floor to survey her mistake. "No," she cried, shaking her head. "No, I can't."

"The alternative isn't that good for you, I'm afraid," he said.

"You're going to let me go."

"I'd hurry because in about thirty seconds the deal expires, so either you drop the knife and I don't punish you or I make you drop it."

She felt sick and desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation. Trying to outrun him wouldn't work and besides, the door was locked and the only way out was the same window he'd stopped her from escaping from. No doubt that it'd be shut so she'd have to open it and he'd probably catch her again. But she couldn't think of anything else. She was trapped behind this table with only a knife on her side while he had strength and speed.

Unexpectedly he lunged across the table, his hand easily able to clamp around the wrist of her hand that was holding the knife. She cried out, tugging against his grip as he came around to the side she was stood on. His grip tightened and she was forced to let go of the knife, allowing him to take it from her and render her completely defenceless. With nothing left to lose, she began to fight, kicking out blindly while he threw the knife behind him and snatched up her other wrist. She thrust her head forward and sank her teeth into his wrist, making him curse and let go only to then slap her across the face with such force that she fell, and instead of propping her up with his grip on her other wrist he let go, sending her to the floor.

Tina tried to crawl away but he was too quick, getting on top of her so that she was lying on her stomach. His hand gripped what was left of her hair and slammed her face into the floor. She barely managed to groan before it was done again, this time sending agonising pain across her nose. She cried out and lifted a hand to try to stop him only for her face to be slammed into the floor for a third time.

Her head spun as she felt the weight lift off her only so that she could be rolled onto her back, and through her blurred vision she could see the livid face of her captor. Looking at that face proved that had she dropped the knife on her own accord she still would have suffered for her mistake. Giving in to him would lead her to the exact same fate. Despite knowing that she was going to be in for a world of pain, she didn't want to give up, so she threw both her hands up and clawed at his face, desperately trying to throw him off her. He grabbed a wrist in each hand and she attempted to throw her upper body against him, but all that did was lead to him shifting both wrists into one hand before his other grasped her throat, fingers pressing hard as she gasped.

"What did I tell you about running?" he hissed, pressing down harder. She squirmed, desperately trying to alleviate the crushing pressure on her throat. Her breaths were too ragged to allow her to even think straight. "After all the privilege I've given you, this is how you repay me?"

His fingers let up on her throat, allowing her to gasp in more air, but his hand remained there, pinning her to the floor. "I give you food, clothes and the freedom to roam about, and that still isn't enough! You get so much but now, now you've lost it all."

She was beginning to think that death was the only thing that was going to free her. How was she to escape when the times she'd tried had been stopped by him? The weight on her disappeared and she blinked to clear her vision, grateful that her throat was now free. She turned onto her stomach, wanting to just crawl away, but she was stopped when he stood in front of her and delivered a powerful blow to her face, making her emit a pitiful scream. Pain and warmth radiated through her entire face and she was sure some of the warmth was blood.

"Fine. You know what? Up you get, Tina." When she didn't move, only let out a painful sob, his fingers latched onto her hair and yanked her up, making her flail as she stumbled. He pulled her against his body, tilting her head to ensure she was looking at him. "If you really want to run, you can," he said, marching her to the front door. She didn't see where he got the key from but he managed to unlock the door and take them out into the open, making her take a sharp intake of breath through her teeth at the air brushing against her painful face.

He forced her around to the other side of house, stopping in front of one of the windows. She could see the fields stretching out before them and her heart beat frantically. "Now start running," he murmured close to her ear before giving her a sharp push, making her stumble forward.

She looked around bewildered and tentatively looked back at him. He wanted her to run? That wasn't right. "I'll give you a head-start and if you make it a decent distance, I'll let you go," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

Not even a flicker of life came to her at that. There was no way she would be able to run. He had beaten her; her glimpse of freedom having been destroyed the moment he wrenched her from that window. Her head still spun from the deprivation he'd just subjected her to and it was painful to blink as it made pain surge all about her cheeks and nose. But most of all, she didn't want to partake in his mocking deal. The game of chess - which seemed to have happened a lifetime ago - had taught her early on that all options he gave her always ended badly for her.

"There's no backing out," her captor taunted. "You wanted to run so badly so now you can."

Tina began to cry harder. He gave her a sharp push, making her stumble forward, before she began to run, her feet colliding with the hard earth and the air hitting her face harshly. After only eleven steps her head began to pound, a stark reminder that she was so much weaker than he was. She could hear him taunting her, reaffirming that this was a sick little punishment he decided to inflict on her. She could only hope that she could run a distance that he had out-judged, so that he couldn't easily catch her.

She stumbled over the earth, her soles hurting more. The more she ran, the more it felt as if her lungs were going to burst. Her legs were beginning to wobble, her lack of proper movement not having done them any good, and yet the field seemed to still stretch on forever. Even if she had got out the window, she was beginning to believe he would have been able to catch her regardless.

His voice had grown distance and she hadn't dared glance over her shoulder, but her foot hit a stone and as pain surged through her foot, her legs buckled and she couldn't keep herself up, making her fall to the ground, chin scraping harshly against it. Not even fear would override the pathetic condition she was in.

She had curled up in defeat as she heard him approach her, hands gripping her head as she cried. "Please just kill me," she sobbed.

He crouched down and ran a hand gently across her cheek. "I've decided that you're too perfect to ever kill. It'd be such a waste when you've been making such progress before this little incident."

"You're crazy," she spat.

His hand stiffened for a moment before he continued to caress her face. "Now, now, do you really need more punishment?"

Once again his fingers sought out her hair and roughly pulled her to her feet as he stood. "Now start walking," he said, tightening his grip when she tried to drop back on the ground. Going back to that cottage would lead to the worst pain she'd ever experience, of that she had no doubt. All hope for escaping might've vanished but she still didn't want to be tortured.

He began to drag her in the direction of the cottage, her feet scraping against the earth. He might not have been taking her to her death but now Tina was beginning to believe that captivity was worse than the swiftness of death. The loss of her hair just signified the hopelessness that had been consuming her day after day. If he succeeded in getting her back to the cottage she didn't think she'd ever escape, not even if they ended up going back to the place she'd first woke up.

"No!" she screamed, sinking her nails into his arm. "Let me go!"

He stopped and drew her closer to him, fingers grasping her cheeks "Be good." She spat in his face. "I don't know what's got into you that's making you this disobedient, but I can assure you that I will snap it you of you."

The moment he let go of her face she began screaming again before he suddenly grabbed her, lifting her from the ground and over his shoulder. Dizziness overwhelmed her and she gasped desperately, the shock mixing with the nausea from her position.

Her captor began walking again. "Just remember, Tina: the more you scream out here, the more you'll scream when being punished."