Unwanted Affection
written by Mr. Pip

WARNING: Content includes: Rape, mild bondage, human-trafficking.

CH. 1 (UPDATED 3/6/10)

The night was an unusually foggy one, especially for the time of year. Leaves were only just beginning to fall from the trees. Walking by myself late at night wasn't something I had ever been particularly fond of and I only did so when there were no other options. My parents were out of town for the weekend though, and so of course, I'd been to a party. It hadn't been very exciting. Lots of drugs and drinking, which is a real turn-off in my book. Smoking is alright though. Calms the nerves, you know? And boy, what I would have given for a cigarette.

As I walked home in the dark, I came to realize that someone was following me. Or I imagined they were, at the very least. Their footsteps sounded close—too close for me to feel entirely comfortable. For whatever reason, I did not want to look back. Instead I managed to convince myself that the person was probably coming from the same party that I was. So I did what I know now as an extremely stupid mistake. I turned down the alleyway that I always did—it was a shortcut to my house. I stepped into the darkened alley and expected to be rid of my creepy shadow. To my surprise, the footsteps followed me shortly after. It frightened me because I knew that this alley led to only two houses—mine and the old Franklin place, which had been empty for almost a year. I instinctively quickened my pace but was almost immediately slammed into from behind, falling face-first onto the ground with a cold pressure at the back of my neck. A knife.

"Scream and I'll cut your fucking throat."

I knew now that my follower had been a man. What he wanted from me, I wasn't sure, but I had several unpleasant ideas. I tried to look at him, but the knife was being held dangerously close, so I stayed utterly silent and as still as stone. The man grabbed the collar of my shirt and lifted me up off the ground, his knife now digging into my lower back. I cringed at the pain but stayed quiet.

With him leading me from behind, I started forward slowly. To my surprise, he directed me straight to my house. There was an unfamiliar black car in the driveway. The man urged me toward the car and opened the back door, swiftly shoving me inside of it. After he had made certain that I wasn't going to run, he shuffled around to the other side of the car, placing himself in the drivers seat. I wanted to run, so badly, I wanted to run. But my muscles remained stiff and immovable from the sheer terror of the situation. I had no desire to upset this man—not yet anyway. He started the car and locked the doors. The locks went down into the door so far that I could not reach them, so escape was no longer possible. Before I even had a chance to really grasp the situation, the man pulled out of the driveway and sped off down the street.

The car tutted along silently for what might have been ten minutes before the man made any further acknowledgement of my existence. I had been staring at the back of his head, hoping that he would just change his mind and unlock the doors for me. My hopes were in vain. He glanced into the back seat and I stared at him. Until that point, I hadn't been provided with a good look at his face. It was in my mind that I ought to memorize his face so that when I went to the police, I could provide them with a detailed description. The man didn't look much older than me and was surprisingly handsome. (I always imagine kidnappers to be creepy and perverted old men, which is why his general appearance was a bit of a shock. He definitely wouldn't have screamed "pedophile" if seen in a crowd.) It only upset me, though, to know that I found my kidnapper relatively attractive.

"Elaina?"

He knew my name. I can't say that it was a surprising fact—after all, he knew where I lived, too. It still was enough to cause a shiver.

"I-it's...Ellie." My voice was shaky. The man smirked.

"Why don't you hop up here. I'd like to have a little chat with you." The road was mostly clear now, so he wasn't quite so focused on driving. Most of his attention was directed toward me, which wasn't a very pleasant feeling. I decided to play it safe and follow his instructions. I moved very slowly, making sure to keep as far away from the man as was possible. To my relief, he didn't watch me as I moved, but kept his eyes on the road. Once I was seated in the front beside him, he began his little chat.

"You're parents didn't tell you why they were going away this weekend." It wasn't a question. I didn't know how he knew that—or how he even knew that my parents were away, for that matter. After there was a few minutes of silence, I suspected that he was waiting for a reply.

"No… They didn't say," I muttered, staring out the at the black road ahead.

"Wonderful. Let me enlighten you… Your parents were in debt. In order to keep their home and all the property in it, they had to pay off all of that debt quickly. Therefore, they needed to make a lot cash quickly, but of course wanted to keep their life the way it was… with only one exception."

My parents and I had never been very close. I often got the feeling they really didn't even want me there. I wasn't anything like my younger sister, their perfect little angel. She was pretty, sweet, popular and she did whatever my parents asked of her. In contrast, they considered me a rebel, their first mistake. Both of my parents had been very clear about their feelings for me. Perhaps this debt was somehow my fault? I glanced toward the man, looking utterly confused.

"So… You paid them for something?" That was the only logical conclusion, I thought. When the man chuckled at my response, I shifted nervously in my seat.

"Precisely... And can you guess what that something is?" His face darkened as he looked toward me suddenly. "You, my little Ellie."

My heart thudded against my chest suddenly and my breath hitched. I knew my parents hadn't ever favored me, but… would they actually sell me to pay a debt? The thought was an unbelievable one. Parents were supposed to take care of their children, for God's sake! It couldn't be true that my own had handed me off for a wad of cash.

But this was obviously exactly what had happened. There beside me sat the proof. "How could they do that?" I asked suddenly, and again my voice sounded meek. "What are you going to do to me?" It was a question that I wasn't sure I wanted answered.

The man turned down a dirt road, ignoring my inquiries for the time being. We had been driving for about forty or fifty minutes now and I had been too preoccupied to keep track of the turns. Unfortunately, when I tried to get a feel of the surroundings, nothing was familiar.

"I'm sure by seeing the knife," the man started slowly and suddenly, "You know I don't plan for you to be in agreement with everything that's going to happen. Understandable, though we'll cure you of any resistance soon enough." My hands were shaking at this point—it was just something that happened when I was nervous—and I couldn't tell if I was breathing or not. My lungs felt as if they were being constricted, unable to breathe in enough air. Although I remained silent, my uneven breathing was a sure sign at the anxiety I felt. "I admire the fact that your aren't screaming and kicking. It's really sexy to see a girl with has such bravery." If the smirk upon his face was any indication, it was clear that he wasn't trying to make things any easier.

"Yeah, but…that would just be giving you more control, right? Besides, it's not like I have much to go back to, and… you seem like a nice enough guy." Despite my current state of mind, I wanted to appear less unstable than I actually was. A little dab of sarcasm here and there was bound to do the trick. The man only looked at me with one eyebrow raised, the smirk still clear on his face.

"I doubt you'd feel that way if you knew just what I was thinking." He chuckled and I could only weakly shrug my shoulders, attempting nonchalance.

"W-what would that be?" I cringed as my voice cracked. The man smirked and leaned closer, whispering too close to my ear.

"Trust me. You'd rather not know," he said. I shivered involuntarily and leaned away from him, resting my head against the window.

"You're probably right." I didn't doubt that my calm facade would vanish if I knew what was running through his mind. There was silence in the vehicle once more, and although I usually enjoyed quiet times, I felt awkward. "So, um, what about your name… You haven't even told me that yet." Small talk—a diversion for your nerves.

"Ah, I knew I was forgetting something. My name is Damien. You'll simply refer to me as 'Master', from this point on." Despite the fact that he had sounded very serious, I assumed that part was a joke.

"Oh, okay then." My words were blatantly sarcastic and I regret ever saying them. Damien looked at me as if I had just slapped him across the cheek.

"Watch your tone. You are under my control whether you like it or not and I don't want you to think otherwise." It was quite obvious that my sarcasm had pissed him off. I settled down into the leather of my seat, feeling as insignificant as a squashed bug.

The next forty-five minutes were entirely chatterless. Damien remained driving and I remained staring awkwardly out my window. Eventually he turned down another unfamiliar dirt road, this one with a wooden 'Dead End' sign. I chewed nervously on my lip, under the assumption that we were getting closer to wherever it was Damien was taking me.

"Ellie." The sound of my name drew my attention automatically, especially since the sudden break in silence was a bit startling. "Take off your top and throw it in the back," he ordered clearly. When I only stared at him in response, he heaved a sigh and abruptly slammed on the brakes, causing me to jolt forward and hit my head on the dashboard.

"What the fuck?!" I hissed in pain, both hands reaching up to massage my throbbing forehead. 'Note to self; use a seatbelt.'

"Shut up and take your fucking top off." I opened my eyes to stare at him. There was no doubt that he meant serious business. His jaw was set tight and his eyes narrowed—it was the kind of look a person got when their mind was made up. My vision started to blur with tears, both from the pain of the sudden stop and the terror of what I was being asked to do.

"No!" I screamed so loud, my throat hurt. "Stay the fuck away from me." The next second, I was looking at the door, fumbling with the door handle in a desperate attempt to unlock it. Before I could even get good hold on the silver of the handle, there was a sudden pressure on each of my wrists and Damien had me pinned to the door. In my state of panic, he had parked the car, unbuckled himself, and crawled halfway into the passenger seat.

"Take it off," he growled, his hot breath in my ear. I was still crying and struggling, trying my hardest to shake him off.

"No! Stop it! Please, just stop!" I could feel his body pressed firmly against mine and it disgusted me. I knew that my situation was about to get much worse.

"This is your last chance. Take it off—or I will." I couldn't stop crying. Sobbing as fervently as I was, it was impossible for me to tell him that I would do it. Before I had the chance, he became very aggravated and flipped me around, so that I was now facing him. Damien rolled down the passenger-side window a few inches and slipped each of my hands through. The window then went back up, locking my wrists in place.

"Shut up. You'll only make it worse for yourself." Asking me to stop crying was like asking him to leave me alone—it wasn't happening. I tried to lower the volume of my cries, though, in hopes that my obedience would be enough to shoo him away. He only smirked and, with both hands now free, brushed a few strands of hair from my face.

"I'll do it! I'll fucking do it! Just keep your filthy hands off me!" With my response to his touch, Damien struck my face. The sting was enough to draw a whimper.

"Oh, did that hurt?" There was a cruel chuckle. "Let me take care of it."

Without another word, I felt his hands grabbing at the bottom of my tank top, slowly pushing it up passed my stomach. It was obvious that he was going to draw the action out as long as he could stand—one slothful hand maneuvered under the cloth, resting on my breast, while the other toyed with my belly-button ring. It wasn't long before things escalated.

I felt a sudden pressure between my legs. I quickly realized that he had moved one hand over the thin black cloth of my shorts and was rubbing a rather sensitive area, and I could feel the odd sensation that came along with being aroused. It wasn't as if I wanted to be aroused by his touch—that was far from the truth. Despite this fact, he continued with the pleasurable little circles. I tried so hard to hold it in, really I did, but… one soft hum of satisfaction sounded from between my lips. That single sigh of pleasure was enough. Damien smirked, obviously pleased with having caused the sound, and began tugging at my shorts.

Once Damien had the too-short shorts off, tossed carelessly into the backseat, I felt him move my underwear slightly to the side and slide a single finger inside me. He wiggled it around, causing another moan. I could do nothing but watch as he lowered his head, sticking out his tongue and just grazing the surface of my clit. I wanted to kick him away. If he didn't have both of my legs firmly pinned in awkward positions, I undoubtedly would have. Regardless... it was hard to think of kicking while his tongue explored my insides. The pleasure soon became enough that I was moaning and panting rather loudly. I was almost enjoying myself... and then he pulled back.

It's hard to describe how I felt. I was so embarrassed and angry, but at the same time, horny as hell. To be made all hot and bothered like that, only to be denied a climax... it was like torture. But I didn't mind that. I was just glad he was off of me.

Damien looked like he wanted to laugh at me. "Fuck you," I growled suddenly, fresh tears building in my eyes.

"As soon as we get to the house." I watched as he moved back into the driver's seat.

Damien left me there with my hands stuck in the window. With my pants out of the picture, I crossed my legs to cover myself, perhaps a frivolous effort. He chuckled and placed a hand on my bare thigh. "Don't worry," he said with a harsh grin, "We're almost there."

With that, he started the car, shifting into 4-wheel drive to continue down the bumpy dirt road. After about twenty more minutes of driving, Damien finally slowed the car to a stop. I couldn't see where we were, but I hoped we were at his house. If we weren't, that only meant he wanted something more from me.