Lucifer

With three men that were at least 6 ft tall and about 200 pounds each were standing in front of me, I knew fighting would be useless. Realization dawned on me; I was going to be taken and I had no choice in the matter. I read once that if you stress about something, you put yourself through it twice. With some knowledge on being captured, fighting only makes things worse. Going quietly was my best bet. I put my hands up in surrender to them, and my head down in surrender to myself. No more freedom; that much was sure.

The bigger of the three threw me over his shoulder and began walking, taking me out of my home, with the other two following closely behind. No doubt ensuring that if I had tried anything, they would be quick to stop me. The male carrying me practically threw me into a car and climbed in after me. Still, I hadn’t flinched or said a word. I was determined to not give them a satisfaction they could have craved and wanted from me losing it. I assumed I wasn’t theirs since they were clearly the ‘pick up’ crew, but they are men, let’s be honest. They would probably take every chance they could to have me. I was already about to be owned, I wasn’t going to let them have me too. I had to keep some semblance of my dignity; it just had to be silent.

Once the other two climbed in, the black SUV started to pull off, and I watched as my familiar home started to drift behind me, doing my damned best not to cry. One of the men started to bound my wrists, and again, I didn’t fight. I let him, not even looking at him. Surprisingly, he hadn’t covered my mouth with anything. Although, it was probably because I was silent already. They had nothing to worry about at this point.

I thought about how these men probably had families and were doing their jobs. Most wouldn’t have actually thought it that way, seeing how psychologically, most would be just thinking of their impending demise; but I was a different cookie. You had to let things be. Sometimes, you just have no control. Realizing that makes situations that you’re out of control of helps your own cause.

We drove for what seemed no time at all, and no one touched me besides bounding me. When we stopped, I was taken out of the SUV, and put in a black Hummer stretch limo. The moment I got in, there was a mattress on the floor of the vehicle. And not like in the movies where it’s laden with dirt and a mess from a previous engagement, but brand new with beautiful black and red sheets and a pillow. They placed me on the mattress and quietly yet sternly commanded “don’t move.” And so of course, I didn’t.

Now I felt a little exposed. I was wearing my black silk robe that I normally wore around the house with nothing but a black silk teddy on underneath. On top of that, I was sitting on a mattress in a limo, with three guys sitting around me, just staring. Whoever it was coming to claim me, I hoped to hell they were arriving soon.

Just as I thought that, the door opened. A male climbed inside with a black Armani suit on and sat in the seat right in front of me.

“Well hello there, puppy.” He said with the most gorgeous British accent I had ever heard. The British weren’t really my style; they just weren’t that attractive to me. This guy though, was absolutely beautiful. His eyes crystal blue, hair as black as my robe and teddy. He was thin but slightly built, as if to just keep up his health, and not at all addicted to fitness. The top button of his stark white shirt was opened, and his dark hair stuck out against his light skin. To top it all off, he looked at me as if he had been waiting for me. And now, he was claiming me. I don’t know how or why, but I was fucking wet. I shouldn’t be. This man just abducted me out of my home so he could own me, and called me puppy. Yet, I wanted to bend over for him and allow him to take me however he chose.

“You’re quiet,” he pointed out. “Most would be fighting for their feminist independence. Tell me why. Are you enjoying this? Has this been a secret desire you were too afraid to admit, even to yourself?”

Shakily inside, but surprisingly steady aloud, I replied: “no point in fighting, sir.” I wouldn’t dare admit to being wet. I’m sure his explorations would give me away, and that’s how I was going to allow that to happen.

“Smart girl,” he smiled wider. As if that was even a possibility. He wanted submission, not a fight. Good. Because he wasn’t getting it. I had to keep as much control as possible, even if that meant psychologically.

Silence loomed over me. His eyes roamed me from head to toe. I knew I had something going for me, with my natural brown hair with slight natural red highlights; average build (I like tacos), triple D sized breasts. I was only 5’3, but my legs made up for most of my height, which turned most men on.

His blue eyes met the brown eyes that matched my hair, and he stared at me for what seemed like eternity. Still trying to maintain my inner control, I stared back.