Taken - Page 17

The ultimate goal, of course, would be to escape. That wasn’t yet an option, but she would take steps to make it possible. To do that, she needed to learn the rules quickly and make sure to obey them to the letter.

If she could behave with total docility and obedience, maybe they would start to trust her. She needed to convince them that she was resigned to her fate and seeking only to survive in her new life. Then, they might let her out of the cage more often. Maybe they’d even let her out of the basement.

But then what?

It was all so overwhelming.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Don’t panic. One step at a time. Take a deep breath and focus on what you can do right now.”

She needed to keep up her strength. Lying in a cage all day with barely any food, would atrophy her muscles. One thing she could do was exercise, at least in some fashion. She started with her toes, wiggling them. Then she tensed and relaxed her calves until they were fatigued, which didn’t take long in her weakened state. She worked on her hands next, flexing her fingers and then pressing her palms together, using isometric force to engage the muscles in her arms. She tightened and released her buttocks until that tired her, and then tried to do a kind of modified sit-up in the limited space of her cage.

Exhausted, she took another tiny sip of the water. When the bottle was empty, would it be refilled? Maybe she’d get up the nerve to ask, when it was only Robert. He was clearly the more sympathetic of the two, if such an emotion could be applied to either one of them.

They were both obviously nuts—criminally insane sociopaths without consciences or empathy. How many other women had they abducted, held captive and tortured? Jane wasn’t fool enough to think this whole setup was just for her. Others had been held captive before her.

What had happened to them?

No.

Her mind shut down at that question. She couldn’t allow herself to go there. Because the answer would surely lead to total despair.

The sound of the squeaking door hinges made her tense in the cage, adrenaline spurting through her bloodstream. The light flicked on and a moment later, the pair appeared, clomping down the stairs.

“Hey, froggy,” Robert boomed, grinning maniacally. “Did ya miss us? We’ve come to play.” He held a tray in his hands. As they got closer, she saw the jar of peanut butter and a plate of sliced apples. Jane immediately began to salivate, her empty stomach clenching with hunger.

Robert was naked, his huge cock already partially erect. Brenda, just behind him, wore a pair of cutoff shorts and a tank top, her large breasts free under the thin cotton.

Robert set down the tray and moved to spin the combination lock of her cage. Brenda, meanwhile, retrieved a leather whip with a braided rawhide handle from the wall. She snapped it in the air, the cracking sound causing Jane to flinch.

As Robert hauled Jane out of the cage, Brenda set up two exercise mats across from each other at a distance of about ten feet. She lowered herself onto the mat, the whip in hand.

“We’re going to play a fun game,” she announced, her green eyes gleaming with evil intent. It’s a relay race of a sort, except you’re the only one in the relay.”

Jane swayed slightly as Robert set her on her feet. Her bladder was full, her guts cramping. No way in hell was she going to poop in front of these two monsters, but she wasn’t going to be able to control her bladder for very long. Just the thought of relieving herself caused a few droplets of pee to escape down her inner thigh.

Crossing her legs, she begged, “Please, I need to pee. Really bad.”

Brenda made a dismissive, irritated sound in her throat, but Robert said, “Go ahead. Squat over the drain and do your business. Make it snappy.”

Relieved, Jane sidled over to the drain and squatted, her back to her captors. The pee streamed down, her bladder too full to allow her natural shyness to hold her back. When she was done, she tore a piece of newspaper and used it to wipe herself as best she could. She started to walk toward the diaper pail to toss the used newspaper.

Brenda snapped, “Leave it. Get over here between us so we can tell you the rules of the game.”

Dropping the bit of paper as directed, Jane moved to stand hesitantly between Brenda and Robert, who were sitting cross-legged on their respective mats. Robert had placed the food tray beside him.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Brenda snapped.

Jane lowered herself awkwardly into the position, her joints aching from the long confinement in the cage. The concrete floor was rough and cool against her palms and knees.

Tags: Claire Thompson Romance
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