Chapter 20
Kitlyn
A week has passed since Atlas took me.
Who am I kidding?
It's been a week since I permitted Atlas to fuck me. I didn’t scream or beg him to stop, making me a complicit participant. Something I’m not proud of. Even though I submitted to keep my cat, I enjoyed what he did to me.
Multiple intense orgasms were the result, which left me confused all week long.
I couldn’t get the scene out of my head.
After claiming me both ways, he clarified he was now the proud owner of my anal cherry.
The way he carried on, you would think he was getting a solid gold trophy for screwing me up the ass.
I am just a fuck toy for this man. It makes me feel like I am a lifeless doll, not a human being.
At least this job comes with some benefits.
He said he would reward me for my submission.
Aside from the fact that he uses me as his personal cum dumpster, in all reality, I am nothing but a glorified whore.
I laughed, and half sobbed at the thought. Just over a week ago, I was a normal twenty-three-year-old living her best life. Now, I am nothing but a sex slave to a filthy, depraved man.
He was going to screw me, cuddle me, whip me, play mind games, punish me, reward me, and there was no one to protect me. I felt dizzy just thinking about it.
Fan fucking tastic!
He also said there was no escape, so I may as well adjust to my new life with him.
Double fan fucking tastic!
Once I came down from my high after that crazy session a week ago, the rational part of my brain took over again. I gathered my wits as soon as I was alone with my thoughts.
That night, after he brought my cat to me, I decided I needed to get out of here. I would not live the rest of my life locked up in this fucking room while he did whatever he pleased with my body, no matter how great the orgasms were.
I didn’t even feel the need to file charges against him for kidnapping me; my freedom was what I wanted.
I wasn’t afraid he would kill me. I was fearful of how far his depravity could go. How many marks would he leave on me? What about punishments that didn’t allow pleasure to balance the pain? Would I be able to handle those whippings without him using the vibrator or his finger on me?
What terrified me the most was losing my ability to choose and being unable to live my life on my terms. I felt like a woman from the seventeenth century with no rights. He was making all the decisions for me, plus it didn’t help that he called me his property daily.
That always pissed me off. If I could only get him to see that I was more than an object. Maybe I could persuade him to let me go. After all, I talked him into allowing me to keep Tuna. Who am I kidding? Tuna came with a price….ME!
He was extremely dominant. He decided I was going on birth control. He had a tracker put inside my body.
He decides everything for me. I have no voice. I mean, that’s just fucked up. They abolished slavery in eighteen sixty-five, for God's sake!
He has not engaged in sex with me at all since the belting session. Although he came to bathe me, bandage my feet, and apply the salve to the welts on my ass, he was nothing but a gentleman, even when he undressed and dressed me.
I noticed he looked at me with something akin to a feral nature, but kept his hands to himself. As fucked up as it was, I had to admit I enjoyed the things he did to me. He was the king of orgasms, and I was hooked.
I was thankful he didn’t defile me again because I really couldn’t deal with the internal struggle in my head.
It was difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that I enjoyed this monster's barbarity toward me. I couldn’t believe my skin was still intact, and for the life of me, I don’t know how he didn’t make me bleed from that whipping.
Atlas struck my bottom with all his might. He denied it when I said as much to him, saying he held back much of his strength so he wouldn’t leave any lasting marks. He told me he was masterful with the belt and knew how to make it hurt without permanent damage.
He spent a lot of time in my room coddling me and checking for internal and external injuries. The exams were humiliating, especially when he had my knees pinned to my shoulders, poking and prodding both my ass and sex, making sure he didn’t do any damage.
I also had to answer his humiliating questions about my bathroom habits. He wanted to make sure I could shit ok after stretching my back hole. Christ. If he was so worried about it, he shouldn’t have sodomized me in the first place.
He was so paranoid that he might have destroyed me. I admit he was well-endowed, but he wasn't hung like a horse. My body adjusted to his size with no issues.
His paranoia bordered on insanity. I guess I should be grateful that he cared, at least a little. I was sore for a few days, but it was nothing serious. His brother Joey came and sat with me several times during the week.
He was so different from his brother. Joey wasn’t scary in the least. He was always cheery and upbeat. We shared a few meals and watched movies together. He resembled Atlas with his dark hair and build, but his eyes were hazel instead of grey. He wasn’t as tall either.
I don’t think anyone can match Atlas’ height. We even played beauty salon when he gave me a mani and a pedi. I love the dark-red polish he chose for me. Too bad I couldn’t go anywhere to show off my beautiful manicure.
I have been stuck in this fucking bedroom for nine days now, and I am getting cabin fever. I need some air. When I raised my concerns to Joey about being Atlas’ plaything and prisoner, he told me I might as well make the best of it because there was no way out.
His brother was adamant about keeping me and taking me to an isolated island in a few months.
I tried to get as much information from him as possible about Atlas, but he disclosed little. He made it a point to tell me that Atlas has a nasty temper and that it was best not to push him too far.
I showed him the welts on my ass. He didn’t seem to be shocked when he saw them. I assume he is aware of his brothers' sexual preferences. I guessed right away that he was gay, so I had no issue showing him my bare bottom.
I knew he wouldn't be interested in penetrating any opening in my body. As wonderful as Joey was, I had to make my plan to get the fuck out of here. Everything is locked up, making escape impossible.
I couldn’t access the remote to the main doors, and no one could get in or out of my room without pressing Atlas or Joey's hand on the pad.
I would have to gain both of their trust, so either or both would let me out into the main house, where I could map out my escape plan. Then there was the damn tracker he put into my arm. I planned to get to a nearby hospital and have them remove it once I broke free from this damn prison.
I was going to have to go to the police and tell them I had been kidnapped. I would need them to escort me to the hospital to have the tracker removed.
I highly doubt Atlas would arrive at the police station or the hospital to take me back. That would be too risky. I couldn’t go back home because he knew my address.
I would have to leave the state and start fresh somewhere else. I knew he wouldn’t kill me now, but I wasn’t too sure what he would do to me if he caught me after I escaped.
I didn't even want to entertain the thought. Becca had to know I was missing by now. I don’t know if the police are even looking for me.
I have zero access to the news or any electronic devices, so I have no clue what is happening outside. Even though this sucks, at least he let me keep my cat. I know I traded my dignity for the animal, but it was worth it.
I needed my pet to keep me sane. When Atlas spends time with me in my room, he allows Tuna into the main house, so he doesn’t bother us. That cat does not know how lucky he is to be able to leave this fucking room.
I know he sends Joey here to keep me company. He is almost like a fun girlfriend. I feel bad that I will have to betray his trust, but I want my life back. Being confined in here is making me insane. I want out.
Atlas interrupted my thoughts when he walked in with breakfast. I haven’t been eating much this past week. My appetite is nearly gone.
Other than the fucked-up BDSM session, my kidnapper hasn’t mistreated me at all. He has been quite attentive since he sent me into orbit while blasting my ass with his belt last week. I think being cooped up in this fucking room is making me depressed. I have been feeling antsy.
Too much stress piled on at once.
I am afraid I may start cutting myself again. I need to release the darkness that is leaking into my psyche like Chinese water torture. Drip. Drip. Drip. It's nerve-racking. I am not the type of person who can sit and read or play with Tuna all day with nothing else to keep me occupied.
My anxiety doesn’t allow me to live such a lackadaisical existence.
I need things to keep me busy, so my head won’t explode into an endless trail of useless thoughts.
I looked at Atlas. If I am reading him correctly, his handsome features show a slight look of concern.
He is in a serious mood this morning. Usually, he comes in wearing a smile.
He set the tray with bacon, eggs, fruit, coffee, and juice on the desk. “Good morning, Kitlyn. I've brought you a nice breakfast. I hope you will eat a little more than you have this past week.” I continued staring at him while sitting on the mattress, looking shocked.
“Wow! You addressed me by my real name instead of the usual demeaning Kitten and pet names you prefer to call me.”
He sat beside me on the bed, unresponsive to my little dig, while grabbing a strand of my loose hair and twirling it between his fingers.