The Captive: A short story


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The Captive: A short story

I sat there pretending to read this book he gave me, but actually, I was looking into the webcam, hoping that someday, someone would see this video and think outside the box. Those who love Internet videos would see a studious black girl who appeared to be topless, behind the book she was reading, sitting between her naked white lover, or, husband’s legs.

My captor howled with laughter. He thought it was a hoot that Facebookers would assume that we were an interracial couple and that I was lucky to have my white lover comb through my nappy shit. What the audience wouldn’t see is the chain wrapped around my ankle and tethered to a metal loop underneath the floor mat, that opened to a hidden room below ground. That I wasn’t topless I was naked, as he was, and that his long thick beard hid the tattoo of a black man hanging from a tree. I hope my expression in this video conveys the truth to those who think outside the box, “Don’t believe everything that you see.” I was a grad student taken by a racist human trafficker who decided to keep me for himself.

Five months later…

I sat huddled in the corner of this room where my Master, the bastard left me. He thought I was scared and would do anything that he said. At least, I acted the part. Sure, he raped me, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been through shit like this before, and I would get through this. He said he was going out to get some food and for me to behave while he’s gone. He laughed when he said that, thinking that I couldn’t escape the straightjacket he had forced on me. What he didn’t know was that I could get out of anything. My own mama couldn’t keep me in my crib when I was seven months old. At the age of nine, my older brothers hogged tied me to a tree, and I managed to get out and run home before they could get there. It was priceless to see the looks on their faces, just like it’ll be priceless seeing the look on this bastard’s face.

I heard the front door open. He had spirited me out of the old location yesterday in the dead of night and took me high up into the mountains, to some secluded cabin of his.

“Where we’re at now there won’t be any complaints from the screams you’ll make,” He promise, making a big show of crossing his heart. Whatever he planned to do to me, he hadn’t yet, so I was saving my screaming for something else. His heavy footsteps came closer to the door. I heard the key as the door unlocked and swung open. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah, you piece of cow dung, I missed you!” I thought to myself. He threw a bag of chips at me, and I tore through it like a mole digging a hole. I gobbled each chip down, licking my fingers. Once I was done, I looked up with a fake look of submission.

“Good, little rabbit,” He said as she quickly undressed. “I’ve eaten already, and now I want my dessert.” Within three steps of his long legs, he was on top of me. He dragged me away from the wall and slammed me down on the floor with my belly up. Good! My body sang with glee. He had already come to me with a raging hard-on, pushing his sweats down further so that he could rape me again. Other than the straight jacket I had nothing else on. I waited for it because the timing had to be just right.

“Oomph!” I groaned as he speared me hard with his cock, at the same time I speared through his right eye with the letter opener I found in one of his drawers when I had wiggled out from the jacket he thought would hold me. I was free. The dumb shit didn’t even notice that my hands were free. How else would I be able to tear into a bag of chips, let alone bring them to my mouth?

He fell off me howling, rolling around on the dusty hardwood floor. I pushed the jacket all the way off my body and with my naked ass I leaped on him, taking out his left eye. He howled again.

“Hey, lover,” I said, panting as I squirmed further down his torso. “I’m feeling the love, are you?” I then speared that letter opener inside the slit in the head of his cock. This time, the bastard screamed like a bitch.

Three days later…

“Hey, muffin, ready for some love.” I walked in the room where I now held him prisoner all nice and tight in the straight jacket, and I grinned. He sat on the floor against the wall, blind with his lips sewn shut, whimpering like the bitch that he was. I must say, I did a banging job with the needle and thread. Revenge, retribution, call it what you want, but it is sweet. As I walk closer to him, I switch on what I have in my hand. As soon as he heard it, he began kicking and mewling behind is sewn-shut lips. As for me, well I love the whirling sound of a good power drill. “Smile for the camera, muffin!”

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