Abduction (41 page)

But she would not deceive herself that Vaughn’s trust in her was more than fragile, and that Conrad’s ability to seduce, to mystify and construct convincing new realities was less than powerful. What she feared most, the anxiety that began to gnaw at her, draining her blood and chilling her, the moment she had sensed that they had settled down together in Vaughn’s room, was that Conrad might try to turn Vaughn against her. Especially when she thought of the journal. Panic squeezed her heart each time she pictured Conrad’s eyes taking in Vaughn’s words. What derelict notions would bubble to life in that deviant brain with Vaughn’s troubled past for inspiration? Her darkest fear, the fear she would not even permit to be fully formed in her imagination, was that Conrad would undo all the fragile trust they had built over that last two days, and convince Vaughn that really she had come, knowing all along that the famous Vaughn Doe was cloistered away in this little cabin in the woods.

If Vaughn were to become her enemy now, what an accomplice he would make to Conrad’s plans. She tried to stay calm but at the thought tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She struggled to put the thought from her mind but she could not. It thrust itself into her consciousness with fresh force each time she fought to push 369

it away and she felt the calm she had fought to sustain for Vaughn’s sake melt away in a stream of tears as she began to silently sob.

Now that it had taken this track she could not divert her mind from images of the two of them tormenting her—Conrad with his eternal look of triumph and self-satisfaction, and Vaughn with a look of bitter resentment and cruel lust. She recalled his confession of how he had enjoyed the feeling he had been raping that woman who had broken into his house and, with her friends, forced Vaughn through all those humiliating, exhilarating sexual experiences. If Conrad succeeded in convincing Vaughn that he and she were lovers, that he had agreed to some elaborate ploy so she could act out some rescuer fantasy with Vaughn, that Conrad had become jealous and decided to reveal everything out of fear of losing her to Vaughn, would Vaughn do Conrad’s bidding?

Would she have to look into eyes filled with hate and betrayal as he violated her, relishing her fear and torment?

Poignant regret taunted her with the thought of them forcing themselves on her when earlier that day—oh, it had been just that afternoon!—she and Vaughn had woken up in each others' arms, whispered tenderly to one another, unfamiliar, un-hoped-for happiness warming and tickling her. If Conrad hadn't come, right this moment they might have been in Vaughn's bed, him tenderly introducing her to love, with sweet kisses and gentle caresses, his fabulous glittering eyes charged with desire and softened with sweet devotion. She was really falling apart now, thinking of what would not be, imagining what would be instead, Vaughn brutally claiming what she might have offered so earnestly, his mind poisoned by Conrad, his eyes boring into her with a violent loathing that can only come with the cruelest of betrayals.

She felt she could endure anything to come if Vaughn were still her friend, if they were allies in whatever Conrad had in store for them. But as those low murmurings swirled around her as she sat there bound to her little bed she gradually let go all hope that she was not alone, a prisoner once more in a cabin in the woods with men about to unleash their cruel will upon her. Her pain at the thought of Vaughn’s hurt at her fictitious betrayal flowed, a tributary to the turbulent confluence of confusion, fear and hopelessness. She gave up fighting the flood of utter misery and felt herself crumpling, her strength seeping from her body with the tears that poured from her eyes like a flooded river bursting an aged and weary dam. She sobbed for a long time, quietly, still careful to hide her fear from Vaughn. At last, her tears exhausted, she composed herself once more, and waited. At last those deep voices fell silent, Vaughn’s door opened, her door opened, and Conrad appeared before her.

He looked at the face she had hardened against fear and hurt, steeling herself for the moment when Vaughn would see her. Whatever he thought of her now, she still would not add to his torment by letting him see how frightened she was.

Conrad smiled down on her, delighting in the appetizing sight of her, cuffed helplessly to the headboard, her sheer little garment offering her body up to his eyes.

He felt sure that all was going to go deliciously, and he savored this moment, redolent with anticipation. Then he spoke.

“Well, dear Devan, it’s nearly time. Let’s get you ready.” He uncuffed her, took her hand, and led her into the bathroom. Entering with her, he closed the door.

“I’m afraid, darling, that since I’ve not had a chance to secure this place to ensure that all items that might tempt you to disobedience are well out of reach, I’ll not be able to give you the privacy to which you’ve been accustomed. But we’re past that, in any case, aren’t we?”

He bent and turned on the shower faucet.

“Do you need the toilet?”

Her bladder had been agonizingly full for over an hour. She shook her head no.

He smiled at her with tender patience.

“You’d better go ahead, love. Otherwise, later, when we go to Vaughn’s room, you’ll regret it and wish you had. Here, I’ll turn my back.” He turned and faced the corner. The water gushing from the faucet had pushed her endurance to the edge. Her face went hot as she sat and emptied her bladder. She was relieved, at least, that the sound of the shower gave her some cover.

“Now,” Conrad said when she had finished, “off with that little nothing you’re wearing and into the shower.”

He made no pretense of giving her privacy now. He watched her coolly as she hesitated, then, resigned but still trembling with fear and embarrassment, lifted the sheer gown over her head and put it in the hand Conrad had stretched toward her. She stood naked before him now for the first time and he wistfully regarded her pale, nude form. His soft smile seemed tainted with regret.

“Perhaps I tell you too often, Devan, but you really are lovely.” He said it softly, almost as if he were telling her about a piece of art he admired rather than assessing her naked body. She seemed a mirage in that moment, pale to 372

the point of illusory transparence, wavering in the rising steam from the shower as she trembled with nervous dread of whatever Conrad had planned.

Conrad struggled to maintain his composure as Devan bathed. He was almost in pain with his overwhelming desire as she washed herself, doing as he told her, shampooing her hair, washing her face, her body. Flushing a most delicious pink as she washed with trembling hands her delicate hidden places when he ordered her to.

She watched him very quietly, very intently, as she washed herself, as she finished rinsing the soap from her hair and body, and turned off the water, as he handed her a towel and she dried herself. When she had dressed, when Conrad had taken her through that door into some other part of the cabin…a thousand images flashed through her mind.

When she had finished drying herself Conrad proffered a predictably sheer, small garment, and she put it on. Her eyes were warm and pleading, and as he bent to give her a small kiss on her forehead before starting it all she went all soft and pliant and pressed herself to him and his body raged against the bitter obstinacy of his mind. His cock swelled hard and angry against her quivering body. His hands closed around her upper arms and only with a tremendous exertion of his will did he defeat the animal urges of his body. He took hold of her shoulders and set her gently away from him, turned her toward the door, opened it, and guided her through.

"Come along now, darling."

Conrad took her arm and started for the bedroom.

"Wait—"

"What is it, Devan?"

"Where…why…"

He smiled in that placid, indulgent way that made her feel he was fucking with her.

"No more games, dear Devan. I'm going to take your virginity."

"What—now?"

"Not so unceremoniously as that. Not just here in the hallway, darling. I'm trying to get you into the bedroom, like a proper gentleman."

She'd known this moment was coming. It's not like it came as a surprise. But at the same time, it was. Only now that it was happening did she realize, she'd somehow half-convinced herself he wouldn't really do it. She didn't think she could walk, she suddenly felt so weak and shaky. But then, without really knowing how they went those last few feet, they were in the bedroom.

"Sweet Devan."

Conrad's fingers were lightly combing through her hair, his eyes gazing warm and soft.

He bent to kiss her and she recoiled. He smiled. Almost laughed.

"You aren't going to fight me, are you Devan?" he asked mirthfully.

"No."

"Good girl."

The humor drained from his face. He sunk his fingers deep into her hair and drew his hands into fists, and cocked an eyebrow at her look of shock at her sudden immobility. Then he took her mouth with a hungry kiss that presaged the way in which, a few moments hence, he'd claim her body.

"All this time, everything we've done, and you still pale and tremble this way. You really are something."

He finally broke off his penetrating stare, and his eyes flicked off toward something.

"Isn’t she, Vaughn?"

Vaughn! She hadn't seen him, half-hidden behind the door, as they entered. He looked so sad, so afraid. She could take it, she could get through whatever it was Conrad would do with her. But not knowing Vaughn was being forced to watch it all.

"Conrad. Please, Conrad. Anything you want. Anything. Just please. Please. Not like this. Not in front of Vaughn."

"Devan, darling. You must realize that I've put a great deal of thought into all of this."

When had Conrad ever yielded to a plea? It was pointless. But she stood there, desperately hoping with her whole being as Conrad calmly gazed back, seemingly considering her appeal.

"You really don't want him to watch?"

"No," she whispered, just managing to hang on to her calm, for Vaughn's sake.

"All right, darling. As you wish."

Conrad drew a tiny key from his pocket and handed it to Devan.

"Unlock him."

She made herself as calm as possible, and faced Vaughn. She would have done anything to ease the pain that was plain on his face. As she worked the lock of his cuffs she attempted a little smile of reassurance, but was almost sure it never altered her face 375

at all. Vaughn was free of the cuffs, now, and she followed his gaze toward Conrad.

What was he doing in a chair all the way across the room? And no instructions detailing the minutiae of how to detain Vaughn elsewhere.

She looked back at Vaughn, looking sadly down at her, and she knew.

As he stood there, knowing what he had to do, still, at this moment hardly able to imagine himself capable of it, Conrad's words flooded Vaughn's head.

"She wants to say no and have her cry of refusal smothered with a brutal hand over her mouth. Not by some indifferent or misogynistic rapist, but by a man consumed with desire for her, desperately driven to give her pleasure. And this is why, when I have you take her virginity tonight, it will be in such a way that her fear is ensured, and with it, her greatest possible arousal.”

“What?” Vaughn’s question had been a heart-broken sob, and Conrad had smiled at him with tender sympathy.

“How like her you are, Vaughn. Look at you, pale, trembling, on the verge of tears. Yet I see plainly your cock is stiff as stone. Just as Devan’s little virgin cunt would be slick and swollen were she in your place right now, hearing me say that you were to take her virginity in a short while. Tell me something, please. Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

Vaughn had had many chances, certainly. At least, many girls had offered themselves to him, telling him he would be their first. But he had never taken these girls to bed, not wanting to feel the weight of responsibility of playing such a part in the life of someone he did not care for. Before he was a rock star, and before he was the beloved 376

lead singer of a popular local band in his home town, when he himself had been relatively inexperienced, he always seemed to have wound up with women far more experienced than he had been.

“Have you, Vaughn?”

“No.”

”Ah,” Conrad had smiled with real, warm joy, “how delicious! I’ll be giving Devan her first time, and giving you your first time with a virgin.”

“Christ! You’re really—”

“Do you believe in God, Vaughn?”

“No.”

Then you should choose a different epithet. That one hasn’t any sting.”

“I won’t do it.”

Vaughn shook with impotent determination. Conrad smiled smugly.

“You will Vaughn. You’ll take her, trembling and panting, as I watch. You’ll do it for one reason. Because if you don’t, I will. With
you
watching. And I know you couldn’t bear that. Not out of jealousy, though I’m sure seeing Devan writhe in pleasure under my hand earlier stung your ego a bit. No, you won’t let me take her virginity, Vaughn, because you know very well that she wants it to be you. I may be the one who awakened her to the possibility of love, but it’s to you she’s attached all her young, eager devotion. It’s to you, Vaughn, that she wants to give her chastity. Not to me.” Vaughn knew it was true. He had no faith in Conrad’s certainty about Devan’s real desire for coercion, but he was sure that she had wanted to give herself to him, certain that she would feel bitter regret if Conrad were the first man to have her, rather 377

than he. It would mean that for all time she would recall that her first time had been with her stalker. Her kidnapper. This strange cruel man. If Vaughn were the one, then for all time she would remember that, however strange the circumstances, her first time had been with a man she had cared for, and who cared for her.

“I’m going to get Devan, now, have a little chat with her, and get her cleaned up.