Unlocking Her Chastity (Polar Bear, Alaska)

I leave with the intent of calling back later at the hotel to check in and make sure she's all right.

But the biggest feeling – besides feeling like a dumbass for the Christmas tree in my cabin and the backseat filled with lights and ornaments that I never really wanted – is disappointment.

Because beyond the books she writes, I thought there was something there, a spark. The moment I met Juniper, I thought there was something special. But she stood me up.

And now, whatever spark was lit – is gone.

4

JUNIPER

Something cold and metallic is pressing against my body.

Against my private places.

My eyes open wide.

Panic rushes through me.

My hands are bound by rope and there's duct tape over my mouth again. I look down. The man who kidnapped me has just locked something to my body where my panties used to be.

I know what this is. It is a chastity belt.

I just opened my eyes wide, but now I want to squeeze them shut. Unsee whatever I've just seen because this, this is horrific. Appalling.

I try to swallow but I'm too scared.

He takes the duct tape off me, and I try to bite his fingers. I don't know what he's done, but I know what he's just put on me.

I've spent the last seven years researching and studying medieval torture and weapons and undergarments and food and housing and everything to do with that time in history.

And this device he's just strapped to my body is very plainly a chastity belt. I swallow. “Oh my God,” I shriek. “What have you done to me? Did you. ..?” There is one thing I've held dear and precious. “Did you touch me? Did you have sex with me?” I ask him, shaking at the thought.

He shakes his head. “I would never, Bellissima.”

He's on his knees and I'm lying on a mattress in a bedroom I've never seen before. He must have brought me in here after he knocked me out.

It's empty and nondescript. It looks like a very rough and poorly cared for shack. I wonder if there's even any electricity.

There's no light in this room except for a candle on the bedside table. Makes me feel like I certainly did fall back through time.

“What are you doing to me? What are your plans for me?” I ask him.

“Don't worry. You're my little pet. I’m not going to hurt you. I would have never touched you. No one will touch you, ever. That's why I put this on you,” he says, “that's why I buried the key. No one will ever get to you now.”

His voice is sugary sweet, but there's a crazed, unhinged tone to it.

Terror rolls through me. I'm not going to stay here with this man. He looks like he could change his mind at any moment, and I'm not going to wait for that.

Of course, a part of me is scared. But all I can be concerned with right now is getting the hell out of this place. A stupid metal belt is wrapped around my body in lieu of my underwear, and I don't even want to know where he's put those.

I need to get out of here. Now. I need to get somewhere safe. I need to get to Jacob.

Jacob. He is a strong and steady man. The kind of man who made me feel protected. I've had one conversation with him, but even in that short amount of time, I knew he would make sure I was okay.

This man, though, this man in front of me? He's literally insane.

“You look scared, my little pet,” he says. “Are you hungry? Would you like to come to dinner? I made you some soup. I made you some warm milk.”

“Milk? Uh, sure,” I say, wanting to say something that will get him moving. Get him looking in the other direction. So I have time to get away.

He takes me by the hands, my hands that are bound, and he leads me to the kitchen. He already has food set out at the table. There is a bowl of soup and there is a glass of milk that smells spoiled and rancid. I nearly vomit.

I can't do this.

I think it's Christmas. And I'm in Polar Bear, Alaska. I just want something happy, happily ever after, not this.

I cannot believe I've been kidnapped at Christmas. It's not how my story was supposed to go.

I should never have gone on that walk. I should've called Lemon and asked my best friend what her advice was before I went on that date with a guy named Jacob.

Now I might never get that date at all. I don't want to sit in this chastity belt on this creepy man's chair and eat this disgusting-looking soup and drink his rotten milk.

I have to go.

“Now don't worry,” he says, “I'll feed you as much food as you want. If you want more, I can make you more food.”