Chapter Three

Cecilia

Days had passed before I was offered my first shower.

Warm water rained down over my skin. I winced as the water came in contact with my scalp. Carefully, I massaged the cheap shampoo into my hair and skin. My fingers worked to ease the tangles in my long dark hair as the crimson from the dried blood pooled on the floor of the tub and made its way toward the drain.

Tears burned the back of my eyes, tears I refused to shed in front of my abductors. Under the shower’s spray was my chance, but as sobs bubbled in my chest, I was determined to stop them.

The shower had cooled to the point of pain. No longer refreshing, the water attacked my skin like a magnitude of small needles. Each time the temperature dropped, I moved the handle on the faucet until the supply of heated water dwindled away. Despite the change in temperature, I didn’t want the shower to end. I was so absorbed in the shower’s spray that at first, I didn’t hear the bathroom door open. And then the door opened wider. I hadn’t been allowed to close it all the way, much less lock it. Through the cheap shower curtain I saw the silhouette of the tall man standing in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

His declaration was as defeating as the loss of the warmed water.

As I leaned my head back under the spray for one last blast, the rustle of the cheap shower curtain caused my eyes to open. Quickly, my arms covered my breasts and one hand went to my core as if he hadn’t seen all of me before.

In what I estimated had been five nights and four days of consciousness, I’d learned how eyes alone can be expressive. An entire face wasn’t necessary if you really looked into someone’s eyes. The tall man’s eyes were a nondescript shade of brown. And yet they were expressive.

At this moment, I saw lust.

It wasn’t only his eyes that helped me reach that conclusion. The erection protruding in his dirty blue jumpsuit was a more obvious clue.

“My parents will pay,” I said as I turned off the water.

The tub was covered in grime, mold, and rust. While the water ran, I could close my eyes and imagine the tile and luxury of my apartment’s shower. As long as the warm water rained down, I could think of a better place.

It went without saying that I didn’t want the shower to end, especially not as my audience grew. The other two men appeared in the doorway.

“Do rich bitches like you know how to take three men at a time?”

“Are you kidding?” the short man in the doorway said. “They’re the ones who turn their noses up at the idea, but drop to their knees and spread their legs for the football star.”

I shook my head.

I wasn’t a virgin nor was I excessively sexually experienced. The stories in tabloids of my sexual exploits were completely false.

“Or was it your daddy who popped your cherry?” the tall man asked.

That wasn’t even a possibility. Despite the way the world saw my father, he was a good man.

Middle-sized-man spoke, “I say we’d do him a favor, break her in. After all, she’s got three holes.”

As the water dripped from my hair and down my skin, I lifted my chin and dropped my arms to my sides. The combination of cooled water and cooler air caused goose bumps to pepper my flesh and my nipples to bead. “I know you can’t touch me.”

The middle-sized man laughed as he came closer and reached for a few strands of my wet hair. His fingers were dirty, the kind of stain that won’t wash away and filth showed beneath his fingernails. I refused to flinch as he ran his disgusting fingers down the long lock. His eyes glistened with a menacing glow. “Confident?”

I had been.

I’d been awake for four days and even though these men had instructed me to drop the sheet or kneel on each occasion they brought me food or more water, they’d not come close, not until now.

“Yes,” I said, “you want the ransom. Don’t touch me and you’ll get it.”

Short man, still in the doorway, cleared his throat as he lifted a long length of heavy rope. “New rules.”

The tall one seized my hair, pulling me from the bathtub.

I reached for his hands to ease the pressure on my already sore scalp and nearly tripped over the edge of the tub as I scrambled to keep up.

We all came to a stop in the main room.

From what I could figure, this was an abandoned house or apartment. I believed that the room we’d entered was at one time a bedroom. Now the carpet was gone. The windows were covered and the only light was an out-of-date fixture in the middle of the water-stained ceiling.

I didn’t know what was beyond this room because my entire stay had been spent within the closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

During my other sightings of this room, there hadn’t been any furniture. Now there was a singular chair.

Tall man tugged me by my hair toward the chair.

“Sit down. After you’re tied to the chair, we’re making a video for your daddy. Let him know we’re serious because if he doesn’t pay...”

Releasing my hair, he shoved me toward the chair and I tumbled forward.

I gripped the crusty metal back of the old kitchen chair to steady my balance. My arms and legs quaked. The deli sandwiches had satisfied my hunger until I would wake from the churning in my stomach. After the first food delivery, I ate slower and was able to keep it down.

Looking down, the metal frame was covered in corrosion and grunge, and the seat’s vinyl covering was rough and torn, exposing what was left of the dingy cushioning.

“He’ll pay,” I said, standing tall with as much confidence as I could muster.

Short man laughed. “Thing is, princess, Daddy may be outbid. It turns out that you’re a hot commodity. There’s a bidding war and once we send out the video you’re about to make, your price is going up.”

A bidding war?

Tall man took a step toward me; his eyes through the holes in the mask were cold. “I said to sit.”

The crunchy, ripped vinyl was painful to my skin as I sat. Although my skin was drying, my hair continued to drip around me.

The tall man came closer, now carrying the rope.

“If you fight me, I’ll make you pay.”

With the proximity of his face, I was thankful for the hockey mask, blocking what I imagined was his rancid breath. It would seem that after four days, I’d be accustomed to their other offensive smells—their body odor and their nauseating scent of stale cigarettes.

As my nose scrunched, I knew I wasn’t.

And I didn’t want to be.

Tall man’s fingers showed no signs of gentleness as the rough rope abraded my skin. He began by wrapping it around my waist and securing me to the back of the chair. Taking the ends, he crisscrossed the length over my chest, forming an X between my breasts and over my shoulders, until I was pulled upright and my neck was straight. Next, he secured my arms behind the chair. The long rope was then wound multiple times from my wrists to my elbows, putting excessive strain on my shoulders. The pressure caused my back to arch forward, pushing my breasts and tender skin against the scratchy ropes. As if this wasn’t enough, next he secured my ankles to the front legs of the chair, and pulling my knees apart, he wrapped the rope securely around each lower leg until I was unable to close my legs. The position left my core fully on display.

“Who will see this video?” I asked as a wave of terror and modesty mixed within me.

“Everyone.” The tall man laughed. “You, princess, are going on the dark web.”

The middle-sized man pulled a phone from his pocket. “Just in case anyone looks away from your tits or pussy, be sure to smile pretty for the camera and tell Mommy and Daddy what we want you to say.”

The tall man stood behind him with a leather belt in his grasp.

Short man spoke, “I suggest you cooperate, or instead of the closet, you’ll sit right here and we might just let some of our friends come meet America’s princess.”

Tall man ran the length of the leather over his dirty palm in a menacing fashion. “After we punish you. Have you ever had your pussy whipped?”

I lifted my chin. “I’ll talk and you won’t hurt me. If you do, my family will be your worst nightmare.”

“Says the girl with her pussy on display for the entire world.”

“You know,” short man said, “Boss thinks we could get even more if you’re a virgin.”

Tall man came close again and ran a dirty finger from my cheek down between my breasts and to just above my core. “There’s one way to find out.”

I stiffened as he lowered his finger.

“I check for your hymen.”

My jaw clenched.

He looked away from my core to my face. “Tell us how many dicks you’ve entertained in that warm cunt.”

I gathered all the saliva I could and spit it his direction, aiming for his eyes. “Go to hell.”

Tall man reared back, ready to strike me with the belt.

As I braced for impact, short man stopped him. “After the video. You heard the boss.”

Tall man mumbled under his breath, “Bitch,” as loathing radiated from his nondescript eyes.

Yes, I’d stayed relatively unharmed so far, but as all three men stared at me, a renewed sense of terror stirred deep within me.