#kidnapper!simon

it didn't sink in till the first week, but you didn't have to worry about anything. you moved through the house on your own, when you scurried into rooms simon sometimes didn't follow. it was like he was bird-watching. keeping a close eye and admiring you. except you weren't exactly a free bird, rather a delicate beauty in a shiny cage.

you were surprised that simon had your favourite snacks in the pantry, even the same brand of plant-based milk you enjoyed. it was like he knew everything about you, and yet he was a total mystery.

"scary world out there." simon said, kept his distance from you in the recliner while you were curled up in the couch. you had taken a liking to a black and white checkered flannel blanket. it reminded you of the one back home, that you wondered if he just broke in a took it. he eyed you, which made it hard to read one of your many books, "pretty things like you need to be protected... bad men out there." as if this massive mountain of a man wasn't one of those so-called bad men.

you were in no place to argue. you still felt like you were in a spring locked trap and one wrong move would have it clamped down on you. that this was just some sick game before simon buried your body in the field behind the house.

"when can i go home?" you asked, finding your voice.

"this is better than home."

"are you going to kill me?" you asked before you swallowed the lump in your throat.

he shook his head, "no, ma'am. never." sounded like wedding vows rather than an answer. your curiosity only grew with each day. when you finished the books he brought you, he simply put them back in a bag and returned them from where they came from and came back with new ones.

"saw them on the shelf at the library, thought a woman like you would like them." he gave a curt nod as he dropped the canvas bag by your little nest of blankets on the floor by the television. you hadn't been able to watch television yet. primarily busied with sleeping, books, puzzles and notebooks where you had been writing.

and while it started a journal in the event the police found you. it had become more about fictional stories. for your personal pleasure. you thought about being a writer as a child, but the grind of corporate work in your adulthood seemed to dash that dream.

"next time." you said, feeling a little bold, "can you get some science fiction books too...." it felt uneasy to make any demands. he was your captor.

"well then, angel. be good for me then." he said, smiled under that mask. you looked over and made a face at him. you scampered off back into your nest of books and puzzles. maybe he was right, this was better than home. <3

You squeeze your eyes shut at the next flash of lightning through the windows, letting out a small whimper, your knees closely tucked under you, gripping the bars of the cage helplessly. You feel exposed with only the thin bars of your cage surrounding you in this large living room.

You let out a scream at the first sharp crack of a lightning bolt, hands coming up to cover your ears.

Seeing movement in the corner of your eye, you shrink away when you see the man who locked you in this cage in the first place, Simon, walking over to you from the bottom of the stairs, only wearing a pair of sweatpants. You watch with wide eyes as he crouches down in front of the bars and wonder how he heard you over this weather.

"What are you playing at, Lovie? Disturbing my peaceful sleep," He scolds, then tilts his head and lazily smirks. "You trying to get my attention, is that it?"

You momentarily wonder how he could sleep through this before your focus goes back to what's happening outside when there's another bright flash. You don't talk back to Simon like you usually would. You don't even scowl at him. You hug your legs and hide your face against them as your eyes get watery and you let out another whimper as more thunder grumbles outside.

Simon watches you and wonders if you learnt your lesson from earlier and now you were sulking in hopes of being let out of your cage until another crack of lightning makes you flinch and he realises your fear currently has nothing to do with him.

"Simon!" You yelp, terrified and seeking help from the last person you would willingly want help from.

Simon immediately unlocks and opens your cage, big arms accepting you as you quickly crawl through the open door to him and wrap your arms around his waist. He rubs the back of your head and your upper back soothingly as he holds you tightly against him.

"Don't like storms, eh? You wanna come upstairs? Sleep in my bed with me?" He continues when he feels you quickly nod your head. "You learned your lesson? Only good girls can come upstairs, no matter how scared."

Another snap of lighting makes you dig your nails into his back, not that it affects him in the slightest, as you let out a cry, tears freely leaking out of your eyes.

"Yes! yes, please! I've learned my lesson! I'll be good, Simon! Please don't leave me down here!" You beg, sniffling.

He pulls back and wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs, then kisses your forehead.

"Atta girl, c'mon."

He moves your arms to around his neck, then lifts your legs to wrap them around his waist before he carries you up to his bedroom, sly grin on his face at how you cling to him, hiding your face in his neck. This is just more evidence to him of why you need him, another reason of why he's never letting you go. He thinks about how he can use future storms against you if you misbehave again.

You lunge under the covers when he places you on his bed, covering your face with the blanket and ignoring the chuckle he lets out as you try to calm down and forget about the storm.

He crawls in beside you and pulls you against his chest, the top of your head just peaking out of the blanket allowing him to leave a soft kiss there before he lays his head back on his pillow and closes his eyes.

You wake up in inches, still half asleep when you realise, these are not your sheets, this is not your bed. It’s only then you realise your wrists are tied above you, bound in a black rope that’s taut to the headboard.

You do what anyone would, struggle but the shifting highlights another issue…there’s rope wrapped around your chest, framing your tits, sliding over your wide open thighs. Immobile. Trapped.

“You’re awake” a gruff voice says from somewhere, “how’s your head pet?”

You try and respond, demand whoever this is lets you go, fury sliding through your veins but all that leaves your mouth is a jumbled mess and a whine.

The man laughs, “easy now, you were drinking like it was the end of the world last night.”

You moan, fragments returning, a house party, cheap vodka…a callused hand stroking your face, your eyes snap open.

The man in front, well, over you is big, corded muscle that speaks to destruction, mask covering the lower half of his face.

“It’s alright” he soothes, rubbing his thumb over a cheek “been watching you for a while dove, you and your pathetic boyfriend.”

You suck in a breath “he doesn’t treat you like you need hey?” His thumb continuing its gentle stroke of your cheek, you can’t help but lean into it.

“I watched you, get absolutely shitfaced, drag him into the bathroom” he chuckles lowly, “barely had time to pull the shower curtain across before you were in there.”

Your face heats, his thumb starts stroking your bottom lip.

“You were so dirty, in that tiny skirt, begging him to fuck you over the sink.”

You make an indignant noise and he shushes you placatingly.

“But he wouldn’t, would he? Not even when you slipped your flimsy excuse for knickers off.”

You try and turn your head, his grip turns mean “ah, ah, eyes on me love.”

“It was easy after that, following you, watching you get even more plastered, especially when you started to grind against me in that short little skirt, no knickers on”

You stare up at him, wide eyed as he traces a hand down your neck and over your chest before pinching one of your nipples hard and making you gasp.

“Thought I was your useless boyfriend didn’t you?”he coos condesendingly as he continues hand sliding over your hip and between your spread thighs. “Didn’t even notice I’d slipped something in your drink…silly dove.”

His fingers find your clit and tap gently; you buck at the sensation “there she is” he grins, at least, you think he does from under the mask.

“So I brought you back here, made sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself” a finger circling your hole, barely slipping inside, making you whine impatiently.

“Needy” he huffs at you, indulgent.

“See I did you a favour dove, taking you from that pathetic excuse of a man. He don’t treat you like you need…like the little whore you are.” Two fingers suddenly buried inside you, stretch almost burning.

“No” he coos as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, revelling in the wet sounds coming from your pussy and the broken gasps escaping your mouth.

“Doesn’t give this little cunt what it needs.”

It’s overwhelming, it’s simultaneously too much and not enough, eyes going glassy as the heel of his palm rubs against your clit.

“Don’t worry dove, I’ll take such good care of you” he grunts, speeding up, chuckling when you babble at him.

“I’ll treat you how you need, keep you nice and docile on my special drugs, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

A soundless nod, orgasm so close.

“Course you would” he chuckles “perfect. Little. Dove.”

You come, squeezing around his fingers so tightly he swears under his breath, fucking you through the aftershocks languidly before he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck.” He demands and you lave your tongue over the digits in your mouth “thas a good girl.”

Your eyelids start to droop and he chuckles “that’s it dove, back to dreamland” he hoovers over you, cock pressing at your entrance.