He Left the Door Open

He left the door open. It was barely cracked, but it was open. Laney simply stared at that open door for what felt like hours. Her tired and broken mind could not seem to comprehend the mistake that he had made. He left the door open.

The door was open.

The door was open.

The door was open!! Oh my God, the door was open!

Jumbled thoughts began to come together, and her heart started to flutter like a bird in her chest. She gulped in a deep, shaky breath, and released it slowly. This might be her one and only chance get out. She had earned his trust during her captivity. The ball gag came out a long time ago, and the leg restraints were next. The last few weeks, he finally released the ever present bondage around her wrists. She learned early on of his demands for obedience and docility, and he would often remark that her meek and mild demeanor suited his needs perfectly. Still, there were times when Laney's smart mouth would get her in trouble, and he had no problems with spanking her like an insolent child, or striping her ass with the cane.

If she walked out that door, and he caught her...she shook her head at the thoughts. He would never kill her. His obsessive love would never allow for her death. Instead, she would beg for death.

Laney stood on quivering legs, and padded gently to the door. When he locked her in this room, it usually meant that he had to leave to meet a client. Now, really, was her only chance. Hazel eyes peeked through the open crack, down into the hallway. She knew that to her left was his bedroom. Their bedroom now. To her right was the loft, and then the stairs.

She stopped.

She would need to prepare herself to run. Having earned his confidence in her submission, he started taking her outside. If she behaved, and showed respect, he would take her on walks around the property in the early evenings. The sun would be setting, and the sky would be painted with the soft pinks and purples of dusk. His hand would hold hers possessively, with his thumb making slow swirls onto her skin. In his depraved mind, he thought it was a lover's touch. She knew better than to pull away from his caresses. He would pull her into his arms, her back against his chest. His body would surround her, and all she could do was stare meekly out at the woods that bordered the property. Woods that she would have to somehow navigate. She had no idea how far out those woodlands went, or even where they were exactly. She knew with absolute surety though, that she was willing to take the chance. He left the door open, and she was going to walk through it.

Quietly, she stepped to the bedroom that they now shared. She needed to pack a bag, and quickly. Nothing in this house was a reflection of her. How could it be? She was taken, and then locked up here. This was never a home for a loving couple. He tried to make it seem like they were though, as if they were husband and wife. There were small pieces around the bedroom that he felt she would like, and would help to make her feel more open and comfortable with him. He had discovered that she loved giraffes. Laney woke up one morning to a framed painting of a mother giraffe with her calf hanging on the wall. It was beautiful. Something that she would have hung in her own apartment. She instantly hated it. She was never good at hiding her emotions, and he knew at once of her real feelings. She wanted to love the painting, but how could she? It only served as a reminder of her imprisonment. She tried to thank him for the gift, she really did, but it wasn't enough. His discipline that night was unrelenting. Then he tenderly cared for her bruised and aching body for the days after. The disparities in his personality were terrifying. She had to get out of this nightmare.

From the closet, she grabbed one of his backpacks. All the clothes she wore were specifically picked out by him. Most items were nightwear, with a feminine and demure style that he liked to dress her in. Thankfully, she was allowed to wear real clothes sometimes. She pulled on a pair of skinny jeans that he got for her. She left on the lacy panties and camisole, deciding that layers would be a good idea. It was early October, but the nights were starting to get chilly. She put on one of his fleece sweaters. It was big on her, so she rolled the sleeves up. The smell of his cologne from the sweater drifted up to her nose, and she took in a sharp breath. Fear bloomed in her belly, and for a split second, she thought he was in the closet with her. Adrenaline surged through her body. Her heartbeat sounded like drums in her ears. The terror of getting caught was creeping up on her.

I need to get out, now!

She packed an extra pair of jeans and sweater in the backpack. Opening up the top drawer of the closet dresser, she spied the lacquered box that he kept in there. She saw him tuck money away in here before, and silently prayed that some would still be there. A breathless gasp left her lips when she saw the neatly stacked bills. She took it all, not bothering to count how much was there, and stuffed it into the front pocket of the backpack. Opening the next drawer down, she grabbed a few pairs of warm socks and extra panties, and into the backpack they went, setting a pair aside to put on her bare feet. Lastly, she slipped on her only pair of sneakers; a baby blue pair of women's converse. The shoes she was wearing the night he took her.

Shrugging the backpack onto her shoulders, she stood there pensively. A war was going on inside her. She took in the colors of the hanging clothes; his and hers. He could be so nurturing. There were times when he treated her like a precious treasure, a beloved gift. He would make love to her, all the while holding her face and staring into her eyes. The passion was thick, and she would drown in it. He would pump into her with deep and sensual strokes, his lips barely touching hers. They would stay connected that way, and she would feel his soft breaths against her mouth as he whispered of all the different ways that she belonged to him, and how endless his love was for her. She covered her mouth with both hands, trying to stifle the grating sobs that erupted from her throat.

I can't leave him! This would break his heart!

Closing her eyes, she took in deep, cleansing breaths, trying to get out of her head and into her senses.

You can do this.

You can do this.

Put one foot in front of the other, Laney.

Tentatively stepping downstairs, she headed towards the kitchen. She had no idea how deep the woods went, and mentally prepared a list of what she should take to help her survive. The plan was to head west. She knew that a city was out that way. She could just barely see the tops of the tallest buildings when they would take their evening walks. Opening the pantry doors, she took out an entire box of granola bars, setting them on the kitchen counter. She pulled some apples out of the fruit bowl, and then picked up two bottled waters from the refrigerator. She grabbed the candle lighter and pen light from the utility drawer. The knife block was perched on the counter right in front of her. Laney tilted her head and stared at it, then quickly snatched the paring knife. Everything went into the backpack.

"Ok. This is it."

Her voice was whispered and anxious. The last thing she grabbed was his thick parka jacket from the washroom. Putting it on, she picked up the full backpack, and made her way towards the front door. Laney stopped; in the tangled thoughts running through her mind since she first saw the door left open, she had completely forgotten about the front door, and its keyless entry. She needed either his thumbprint or the access code to be able to open the front door.

A heavy sigh left her lips, and she covered her eyes with her hands, slowly rubbing her fingertips over her closed eyelids.

I really am imprisoned here.

Dejected tears trickled down Laney's cheeks, and she clenched her hands into fists.

"NO! I can't live like this anymore! I can't!!"

Laney grabbed the nearest item, and threw it with every ounce of anger she had coursing through her veins. It was a stone vase, and it crashed into the floor length window. The glass cracked and split, but it did not shatter. She picked up the vase, and threw it again, screaming out her pent up fury. The glass splintered some more. She picked up the vase again, and flung it as hard as she could. The tendons in her neck were straining from her screaming, and her throat was raw. The glass finally shattered, crumbling like a waterfall to the mahogany wood floor, the scattering pieces sounded like bouncing pebbles. Instantly a piercing alarm sounded throughout the house. Laney grabbed the backpack and bolted out the open window.

**********

The throbbing over Trent's left eye had the makings of a killer headache, and the only cure in his mind was to sink himself into Laney's warm cunt and watch her hazel eyes grimace in the pleasurable pain. It had only been a couple of hours since he locked her in the bedroom with his seed coating the inside of her soft thighs, but his thickening cock felt like it had been days. Six weeks she has been his girl, and he just fall harder and harder for her each day. It was her shyness, and sweet smile that Trent first noticed. The way she tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear, and would barely make eye contact with him. Her cheeks glowed with the loveliest shade of pink; she knew he was staring at her. He purposefully wrapped both his hands around hers, when she handed him his coffee order over the barista counter. Her doe eyes popped up to stare at his, her perfect cupid lips barely opening to allow the gasp to escape. He was hooked.

Trent took her that night. He had to. His business trip was ending, and he was leaving to go back home. He cancelled his flight, and instead rented an SUV and followed her home when her shift ended. She lived in an apartment complex, situated into little clusters of three. Luckily for Trent, hers was the unit in the back. He watched her drive into the single car garage, and proceed to grab a book bag from the trunk.

How cute, my tiny pixie is a college student.

His cock lengthened in his jeans, and he slowly rubbed the shaft through the denim. She was just a little slip of a girl, and it made the caveman in him roar. He could easily fling her over his shoulder, and Trent mused that even her hardest fighting wouldn't make a bruise on him. Her khaki shorts were a bermuda length. Classic and sexy. None of that whoreshly short shit that girls are wearing these days, their fucking pussies begging to peak out. No, his angel was a good girl, and knew that her secrets were only for him to uncover. Her smooth legs, just kissed by the sun, ended in delicate ankles wrapped up in white socks and baby blue chucks. The color matched the t-shirt she was wearing, a womens fitted V neck with the logo of the coffee shop on the back. Without the apron on, Trent was able to appreciate the slight curve of her breasts under the cotton. He groaned out loud with the thoughts of latching his mouth onto her nipples, and biting the soft skin.

"Soon baby girl. Daddy's coming soon."

Trent drove away as her garage door closed. He had some shopping to do for his Princess.

Once the moon was out, Trent drove about six blocks away from her apartment, and parked the SUV down a darkened side lot next to a closed down restaurant. It was late Summer, and the weather was perfect for a nighttime stroll. He shouldered his backpack of supplies, and made his way to his angel's place, ready to take her home.

He honestly didn't know if she would be home or not, but if he knew his baby girl, she would have no reasons to be out at night. Something as sweet as her should be safe and sound in her house, maybe preparing dinner, or sipping tea while reading a book. Trent quickened his steps, excited of all the ways that he was going to strip her of her innocence.

Three knocks to her front door, and then there she was. She had changed into a pair of cream colored leggings, with little sparkly polka dots. Her top was a white, off the shoulder, light knit sweater. A lacy camisole strap graced her elegant shoulder blade. She still had on the same baby blue chucks. Her thick, gorgeous hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and a few escaped tendrils framed her baby face. Her beauty took Trent's breath away, and even if he wanted to say something, he couldn't. He simply stared at her.

"Can I help you?"

Fucking Christ, he could listen to that voice all day. Soft and sexy. Trent thought about what her moans would sound like with that voice, and his dick went from half-mast to full in two seconds.

His fingers were folded under the straps of his backpack. He still had not said a word, but his face split into a grin. It must have looked positively evil, because the fear that quickly flashed through her eyes was delicious. She went to shut her door, and Trent pounced. Grabbing her by the throat, he pushed her back into the apartment, and kicked the door closed behind him. Trent slammed her into the wall, both his hands splayed across her slender neck. Her tiny hands grasped at his, her nails scratching at his skin.

Gasping for air, she whimpered meekly, absolute terror painted her face.

"Oh...my God! Please! Who are...what are you...doing?!"

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and spilled down her baby soft cheeks. Trent released one of his hands, and tightened the other one a little more around her neck. Pulling his pocket knife from his jeans, he flicked the blade out. The click made an ominous sound, and she immediately stilled in his hands. The knife had a hawkbill point, with a serrated edge. The curve of the blade was menacing to say the least, and it made his point perfectly clear without having to say a word. Trent stared into her eyes, and deliberately pushed the length of his body against hers. He knew the minute she felt his erection at her stomach, because her gorgeous eyes widened in palpable fear. He pressed the knife along the column of her neck, right at the pulse point, which was thrumming like a hummingbird's wings. Absolutely delicious.

"Do exactly as I say, and I won't have to use this."

He leaned into her, dipping his head at the juncture where her neck met her bare shoulder, and inhaled deeply. Fuck, but she smelled good. Barely pulling back, he licked the shell of her ear.

"What's your name sweetness?"

She shuddered as his hot breath caressed the side of her face.

"Oh God, please. My, my purse is behind you. My keys, they...they...are hanging above it." Her whole body positively trembled beneath him.

"Thanks for that baby, but that's not what I asked you." Trent pressed the blade into her neck, until a bead of blood welled up and dripped down its edge.

"Laney!!" she gasped. Her hands gripped at the fabric on his chest, then flew to his hand still pushed against her neck, then back to his chest.

"Laney." Trent breathed her name out. "Laney baby, you are such a gift." His lips brushed hers, and he felt her sharp intake of breath. "I'm Trent." He pulled away slightly, removing his hand from her neck, only to cup her face with it. His thumb wiped the tears from her cheek. He spoke to her gently, while caressing her face.

"Now, remember, I said to do exactly as I say. You already didn't answer a question I asked, and now you have gone and hurt yourself." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "You can do better than that baby girl." He brought his lips to hers again, and placed a chaste kiss. "Turn around Angel," he breathed on to her lips.

Laney squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. She listened though, and reluctantly turned around. Trent quickly took his backpack off to open it, and retrieved the leather cuffs he purchased earlier that day. They were not his first choice, but would make do for the ride home. Grabbing her wrists, he placed them into the cuffs, and locked them up, using mini padlocks on each one. Next came the elbow cuffs. She squealed when he pulled her elbows back to lock them together, and tried to pull away. While he secretly loved the fight in her, they couldn't have this type of misstep. Wrapping his fingers into her ponytail, and using his other hand to grab hold of her restrained elbows, Trent brutally pulled her body against his. He did not go easy on her, and harshly angled her face to his. Her back arched painfully, her chest gasping with fresh sobs.

"I WILL NOT hesitate to use my knife on that pretty skin of yours. LAST warning sweetheart," Trent snarled. He then gently kissed her wet cheek, tasting the salt of her tears.

It was time to wrap this up, they had a long drive home. Pushing in the back of her knees with his shoe, he forced her down to the ground, and onto her stomach. He picked up her delicate ankles and massaged them lightly, then buckled on the ankle cuffs. A thick chain was attached, and he pulled it up to connect her feet to her wrists, essentially hog tying her.

"God damn it baby girl, but you are beautiful."

Pieces of her hair stuck to her sweaty face and neck, and her entire body was shaking with quick, little tremors. She really was scared out of her mind. A small part of him actually felt a little bit like shit for that. She'll see that I am a real Casanova once I get her home, he concluded.

He took out the last bit of equipment from the backpack, and kneeled next to her face.

"I'm gonna need you to be quiet angel," he said, as he squeezed her cheeks together, and forced the ball gag into her open mouth. Her weeping became muted, and he buckled the lock. Sitting back on his heels, Trent took in the sight of her. This little pixie is all mine. He noticed that she had a scattering of freckles over her nose and the tops of her cheeks. Her ears were pierced, but she wasn't wearing earrings. Those beautiful lobes should have diamonds in them, he thought.

Standing back up, he left her there as he got everything ready to take her home. He picked up her purse and keys and his backpack, and then headed towards the kitchen, looking for the door to get to her garage. He noticed that her phone was charging on the counter, so he picked that up and put it in her purse. Opening the door in the kitchen, he confirmed he was right, and walked into her single car garage. It was clean and sparse, with just her laundry area, a bicycle resting against the wall, and her older model Accord parked in the center. Trent unlocked the car with her key fob, and popped open the trunk. Placing the bags on the backseat, he then went back into the apartment to collect his precious cargo, noticing a definite bounce in his step.

"Come, come. It's time to go Princess."

Laney let out a muffled cry, and began to jerk in her restraints. Trent scooped her up, bridal style, and headed towards the garage. She continued to cry and shuffle her body as best as she could, but when she saw his intention of putting her in the trunk of her car, she positively wailed. Her eyes widened substantially, and her pupils dilated. She thrashed her body so hard, he nearly dropped her.

"Shhh, shh, shhh...it's ok. It's ok."

He cradled her to his chest, rocking back and forth. Laney looked up at him with the most pleading eyes, her lips trying to form words over the ball gag. He knew what she was trying to say.

Please, no. Please, no. Please, no.

He wiped the sweaty hair off of her face with a tender stroke. "It's only for a little while baby girl," he whispered to her quietly, hoping to calm her a bit. As he bent down to place her in the trunk, she began to shriek outright. Her face turned bright red, and her nostrils flared widely from the heaving breaths she was taking. She looked at him with her panic stricken face, and he watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Then she promptly passed out.