A Rebel Captive (11 page)

She was left alone in his room for hours.  She paced, restless and afraid.  She could still see the face of the poor man, bleeding in the courtyard.  She could see the anger and fear on Cole’s face as he caught her watching him with the injured man.  Every now and then, she’d stop in front of the windows and stare out into the woods, squinting, trying to make out the slightest bit of movement.  Rebels were right beyond that row of trees; her best bet for freedom was in sight.  Just as the sun began to set, Cole thundered through the door.  He leaned against it, head down, and silent.  She saw the blood stains on his shirt and arms.

“Is the soldier going to be okay?” she asked, sincerely concerned. 

He looked up as if just realizing she was in the room.  His eyes narrowed, his face contorted in anger, and he went for her.  She put her hands up in front of her and backed away from him.  The retreat seemed to enrage him more and he lunged at her.  She bolted into the next room. He pursued her, catching her in the bedroom, and pushing her down on the bed.  She struggled to get up, to get away, but he held her down, pushing her face into the mattress.  His hands went to her pants, ripping them off of her violently.  In the next moment, he was thrusting his cock into her.  She screamed at the intrusion.  She begged him to stop, pleaded with him as she cried into the mattress.  He pounded into her, holding her down at her shoulder and waist. 

“Cole,” she begged.

Hearing her say his name for the first time caused him to falter and stop. 

“Shit,” he said as if finally realizing what he was doing.  She felt him pull out of her and heard his zipper close.  “I’m… Olivia, I’m…” 

She scurried across the bed, wrapped herself in the blankets, and closed her eyes tight against him.  She heard him curse again and turn to leave.  A few seconds later the front door slammed and she was alone again.  Olivia didn’t move from the bed, a solider came with dinner, the room grew dark as the sun fully set, but she didn’t move an inch. 

.     .     .

Cole didn’t come back.  In the morning a guard came with clothes and breakfast.  When he came back she was sitting on the couch, ready for the day.  He escorted her to the garden.  She waited for him to leave before walking straight to the upside down compost bucket.  The centipede still squirmed around trapped under it.

She worked for a few hours, feeling dazed, like she was watching someone work instead of actually doing it herself.  Mrs. Wellings came over and tried to speak with her, but Olivia ignored the woman.  Instead, she focused on creating a hefty pile of pulled up weeds and other plant debris.  At just around noon, she watched the guard leave his post, the next guard was late yet again.  She grabbed her buckets, filled them, and marched over to Ronny at the entrance to the compost bins. 

“I’m just going to dump these and turn the compost.” She forced herself to smile like this was just another boring trip.

He nodded and started to walk with her, but his lips instantly curled in disgust as a centipede emerged from under some tomato leaves. 

“Get rid of it,” he snapped, but she smiled.

“Oh no, he’s going in the bin.  He’ll help break down the… oh, I’m sorry I forgot about your problem.” She tried to look sympathetic.

Ronny shifted his feet, looking at the bucket then the entrance to the small space and back at her. 

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” she said, exaggeratedly holding her buckets out in front of her. 

He stepped away, letting her pass into the space behind him.  Once he was out of sight, she wasted little time, dumping out both buckets on the ground.  Using one as a step stool up onto the compost bin, she used the other to give her an extra boost once on top.  She could finally see over the wall.  The lawn sprawled out before her, beyond were the first rows of trees leading to the forest.  She whipped her head around, looking for any sign of soldiers.  There was nothing.  She felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Ronny, Cole would be furious with the poor man.  She turned back to the lawn before her and took a deep breath then another. 

“You can do this,” she said. 

Pushing herself up, she climbed on top of the wall.  There was about a fifteen foot drop to the ground, and she took another deep breath, talking herself into jumping.  Closing her eyes, she counted to three then pushed off the ledge.

.     .     .

Cole was walking down the hall, debating if he should go to the garden.  He wanted to apologize to Olivia, but was too horrified and ashamed of what he’d done to her.  The soldier died about an hour after they brought him back to the fort.  Cole filled with anger as he watched the young man take his last breath.  Terror coursed through his veins as he remembered the look on Olivia’s face as she heard her people were so close.  When he saw her next he lost it.  He never meant to hurt her, but somehow couldn’t help himself, something primal took over.  Now, he was a mess of regret and embarrassment. 

“Sir?” His watch intercom buzzed to life and a video feed flashed before him.  “She’s breeched the south wall, sir.”  

Cole saw Olivia jump down from the fort wall, shake off the harsh landing, and start running for the woods.  His heart jumped into his throat and he started sprinting to the nearest exit, immensely grateful he was already so close to that section of the fort.  He burst through an exit and quickly spotted her.  She was limping slightly, but ran as fast as she could.  He bolted after her.  He was able to close the distance quickly and when he got close to her he called her name.  She turned and saw him coming after her and tried to move faster, but her twisted ankle was screaming in pain.  He managed to catch up to her swiftly and grabbed her arm, yanking her to a halt. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, holding her by both arms. 

She just stared at him. 

“What was your plan?  Were you just going to run off into the woods and hope you found that camp?  Do you have any idea where they are or how big these woods are?  Do you realize you’re dressed in Republic clothes?  They’d probably shoot you before they realized who you were!  What were you thinking?”

He was screaming.  She looked down as if just realizing her shirt had a Republic insignia on it. 

“What were you thinking?” he said again, shaking her. 

Her head snapped back and forth.  Her anger took hold and she jerked her body hard, causing him to stop shaking her.

“What did you expect?” she screamed back at him, “that I’d just bow down to you!?  Let you repeatedly fuck me and kiss your boots afterward?!  What?  Did you really expect me to be your fucking whore and thank you for it?” 

His face was bright red and he grabbed her again.  He shook her violently, her head snapped back and forth and her teeth rattled.

“So, you’d rather risk your life, running into the forest in search of your rebels?”

She screamed in fury, using all of her strength to rip out of his hold. 

“It’s not my fucking war!” she yelled.

They both stood there for a few heartbeats, fuming at each other.  His eyes narrowed and he went for her.  She fought against him, punching him in the chest and kicking him in the shin, hard.  Cole picked her up and threw her over his shoulder before marching back to the fort.  She screamed at him, kicking her legs and banging her fists against his back.  He held her legs against his chest, keeping her from kicking him again, but he let her bang on his back.  His heart was hammering in his chest.  He’d never forget how his chest constricted after seeing her jump from the fort wall.  He’d never been so scared in his entire life and now as the fear started to dissipate his body nearly shook with relief.

Plenty of people saw him walking through the fort with her thrown over his shoulder, but he ignored all of their stares and went straight to his room.  As soon as the door shut he put her down and she backed away. 

“Strip.” She could almost hear the snarl in his voice, and she took another step back.  “I said
strip
!” She shuddered at the tone of his voice.  “Take your fucking clothes off or I’ll do it for you.” 

His eyes held such a promise of his threat that she immediately bent down to untie her shoes.  She removed her shoes, socks, and shirt.  Her hands went to the button on her pants and she looked up at him.  He nodded for her to continue.

She stood in front of him in her bra and panties, her other clothes in a pile between them.  She wanted to beg him to let her stop, but knew it’d be useless.  Her hand went to her bra, unclipping it and felt a sudden rush of anger.  Instead of crying and breaking down, she felt her rage rising and she stared him in the eye as she added her bra and panties to the pile.  Olivia stood up straight, naked and unhidden.  She saw his lip tremble like a snarling dog.  He snatched up her clothes and stormed out of the room, leaving her naked and alone.  

He spent hours away from her, working through his thoughts and deciding what to do next.  She left him in a difficult position, but he feared the repercussions of remedying the situation.  He understood why she tried to escape and felt more responsible and guilty about it than mad at her. His stomach turned, knowing he had to punish her.  As the sun set, Cole returned to his room.  He found her sitting on the window ledge, wrapped in the bed’s comforter.  Her head was pressed against the window and she refused to look at him.  A few books, a candle stick, and even a chair were strewn across the floor; there were scuffs in the glass where they’d made contact.  She tried to smash in the windows, but they were bullet proof, and she just ended up exhausted.  He found himself proud of her and her feisty outburst.  

“Olivia,” he said authoritatively.

She didn’t more an inch; she just kept staring out the window.

“Olivia, stand up.” She stiffly moved from the sill, tightly holding the comforter around her body. “Drop the blanket.”

She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she released the comforter and it slipped to the floor.  She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.  Olivia refused to cover herself, to let him know she was utterly humiliated, but it took an immense amount of stubborn will to keep her arms at her side.

“You know, you scared the crap out of me with that stunt you pulled.”  She nodded at his words, “and you put me in a compromising position.”

She looked up at him then.  He held something behind his back and she cocked her head trying to see it.  Her eyes grew wide as she realized he held a crop.

“No,” she gasped stepping backward.  “You couldn’t possibly…” she was wild-eyed, panic clear across her face. 

“Go into the bedroom,” he said in a level voice.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she cried, backing up until she bumped into his desk.

“Yes, unless you’ve misbehaved,” he said calmly. “I can’t ignore what you’ve done.  Now go into the bedroom.” She stood there, shivers of fear running through her body. “Don’t make me force you in there.”

“You’re a monster,” she growled.

He nodded, rubbing his chin.  Did she think he wanted to do this? 

“Yes, I suppose I am, now, go.” His voice turned cold.

He saw her work through her position, then her spine stiffened, her shoulders squared.  With a turn of her heels, Olivia slowly marched into the bedroom.  He was increasingly proud of her, of her bravery and self-control, he could see her fingers tremble slightly, but otherwise she was like steel.  He wasn’t sure if he could go through with it.  She was such a sight, naked and strong, he’d much rather press her into the mattress and make her call his name. Olivia stopped in the middle of the bedroom.

  “Put your hands up on the post,” he told her.

She looked at him and then the four post bed and her bravery abandoned her.  She darted to the other side of the bed, as if the distance could protect her. 

“Please, don’t do this.  I’ll…” but she didn’t know how to finish the sentence.  Would she promise to be good, to not try to escape, to bow down to him?  She wouldn’t make any of those promises. 

“You will come here and you will do it immediately.” His eyes narrowed and he pointed to the spot in front of the bed. 

She couldn’t believe he was about to beat her, to do exactly what she was terrified of.  She looked past him, looked for any way to get out of this, but then she locked eyes with him and saw his determination. 

“If you don’t, I’ll double your lashes,” he said.

With a sigh, she moved back around the bed and stood in front of the post, but couldn’t bring herself to put her hands against it.  He came up behind her, pressing his body against hers.  He grabbed her hands, lifting them above her head, and secured her wrists to the post with a single tap.  His hands stroked down her arms, but she shrugged him off.

“Just get it over with,” she said softly. 

He stepped away from her, tapping the crop against his leg.  He realized that part of him secretly enjoyed what he was about to do and the way she looked, naked and stretched out before him. 

“Why are you being punished?” he asked her, running the crop down her back.

She didn’t answer, he tapped the crop against her hip and she jumped. 

“I said why are you being punished?”

“Because I tried to escape from you.”

He whipped her across one shoulder and she screamed in a mix of surprise and pain. 

“Will you do it again?” 

“I don’t know.” He smiled at her response, nearly laughing out loud.

“You will count the lashes,” he said, forcing his voice to sound stern.

He hit her again, through gritted teeth, she counted out her lashes.  The pain was instantaneous, she’d never been beaten before and the shock of it was almost as painful as the blows themselves.  By the sixth lash, she was shaking uncontrollably, by the tenth lash, tears were streaming down her face, and by the fifteenth one, she could barely choke out the words.  He threw the crop to the side and went to her.  His breathing was erratic.  He’d done his best not to hurt her too much, never hitting the same spot twice, not using his full strength.  He felt every strike like he was the one being whipped, but also grew brutally hard in the process.  Heat radiated from her body.  She tried to hold back her sobs, but she still made loud, sniveling, noises.  Releasing her bonds, he caught her as she slumped into his arms. 

“Good girl.” He stroked her hair, soothing her.

Cole moved her into the living room, she let him hold her, but she wished he’d give her some clothes and leave her be.  Instead, he stopped her by his desk. 

“Kneel.” 

She looked up at him, her eyes slightly puffed, her lips pouty and parted.  He inwardly groaned, even after being beaten she was so unbelievably beautiful to him, quivering and naked. 

“Do it.”

Slowly, she knelt down at his feet.  Cole sat at his desk and started checking emails.  Every now and then, he’d look down at her as Olivia cried softy.  Her back was red and angry looking.  It hurt, but the shock was what was really causing her body to tremble and the tears continue to flow.  There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Cole barked. 

He saw Olivia flinch at his harsh tone.  She wrapped her arms around her chest, covering as much of herself as possible as the door opened.  A soldier came in and approached the desk.  He eyed the quaking, naked, Olivia at Cole’s feet.  Her back was to him and he stared at the marks.  Cole cleared his throat to get the young man’s attention. 

“Here are the documents you came for.” He handed the solider some papers.

Taking one last look at the crying girl on the floor, the solider nodded and left.  Cole sat at his desk for some time, rubbing his hands over his eyes.  He returned to his computer for twenty more minutes or so, until her sobs subsided and her shaking stopped. 

“Olivia,” he said softly, still looking at his computer screen.  “Get up, Livie.”

She did as he asked and held her breath, waiting for his next order. 

“Go to bed.”

He didn’t look at her as she nearly ran to the bedroom.  She slipped under the covers and pulled them over her head, blocking out the world.  She couldn’t sleep, her back stung, and she had to lie on her stomach.  She hated being naked all of the time; even in bed her self-consciousness was getting the best of her.  Olivia tried so hard to act like she didn’t care, that it didn’t bother her, but she was dying of mortification, even now.  Moving to get more comfortable, Olivia hissed in pain.  Then, the mattress dipped with Cole’s weight.  He straddled her and pulled down the sheets.  She jerked up, but her back screamed in pain and he pushed her down. 

“Easy, Olivia,” he said and started rubbing a salve on her back, it instantly eased the stinging.  

Soon the pain was nothing more than a subtle warmth.  He continued to message her back and shoulders.  She groaned as his fingers worked over her body and her tension slowly dissipated.  His hands went to her lower back.  His lips brushed her neck, her shoulders.  He moved to her rear, rubbing her cheeks.  She groaned again, against her will.  His touch was causing her to relax and melt into the bed and at the same time, it made her heart race and her skin prickle.  He pushed her legs open and she let out a cry of protest, but didn’t pull away. 

Cole continued to kiss and nip at her neck and shoulders as he positioned himself to enter her.  His cock pressed against her and she struggled just enough to make her back protest.  Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Cole kept her still in an assertive, but gentle hold.  He slid into her.  Finding her wet and perfectly ready for him, he couldn’t hold back a moan. 

With slow, full thrusts, he took over her.  He lifted her hips just enough to drive deeper into her.  His teeth dragged across her neck and he felt her body shudder under him.  Her breathing came in little bursts, on the cusp of moans.  With one hand on her hip and the other in her hair, Cole had her securely held between him and the mattress.

His slow pace was driving her mad; she could feel every inch of his cock as it moved in and out of her. She wanted more, even after he beat her and put her on display for the soldier, she wanted to feel him deep inside her.  She wanted him to hold her down and make her cum.  She wanted to say it, to beg for more, but her desires sickened her and she refused to admit it, making the pleas come out as a garbled moan.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he whispered against her ear.  He started to pick up his pace, slamming deep into her.  “Do you like that, Olivia?  Do you want me to make you cum?” 

She dug her fingers into a pillow, trying desperately not to yell out for release as he pulled her hips back farther to thrust even deeper into her. 

“Say it Olivia.”  The words came out strained.  “Say it and you’ll get what you want.”

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, shaking her head, and pressing her fists into the bed. 

“Alright Livie, have it your way.”

He thrust into her, taking what he wanted.  The feeling made her arousal even more frantic and intense.  After a few more thrusts, he groaned, digging his fingers into her hips.  He rolled off of her, but stayed close, a hand resting on the small of her back.  She slept very little, her body tense with pent up frustration.

.     .     .

She woke the next morning to find him already gone.  Her body ached as she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.  Looking over her shoulder into the mirror, she nearly cried at the sight.  Her back was an angry crisscross of red marks.  She grabbed the comforter and wrapped herself in it before walking into the living room.  A simple breakfast was left on the table for her.

Nibbling on a piece of toast, Olivia watched the outside world with longing.  Her back ached while the rest of her body throbbed with weariness and pent up tension.  She wondered if he’d ever let her go back outside again, if the rebels were still in the woods, if she’d have another opportunity to escape.  She was startled out of her thoughts by the door swinging open.  Cole walked in carrying a handkerchief full of something.  Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him and she turned her head to look out the window again, refusing to acknowledge him. 

“Good morning,” he said with a gentle smile. 

He sat down in the chair across from her and pulled back the edges of the cloth.  He brought her some fresh raspberries from the garden. 

“I’d rather have some clothes,” she snapped. 

He nodded, placing the fruit on her plate and picked one up for himself. 

“And I’d rather not have to worry about you running off again.” He smiled a grin full of threat. 

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, something about his smile always made her start to tingle. 
Fuck
was all she could think.  He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t push her to talk to him, he just watched her.  It was incredibly irritating.  Her body hummed with pent up sexual desire as she sat across from an immensely sexy man.

His hair was a little messy, falling into his eyes.  His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing tanned skin and a beautiful collarbone.  He popped another raspberry in his mouth and cocked his head to the side, still watching her.  He looked like a well bedded man having a leisurely breakfast with the object of his desires.  She reminded herself that this was the man who beat her the night before and while she found him so alluring she also wanted to scratch his eyes out.  When she finally picked up and ate a raspberry he smiled again as if he’d won some battle between them.  She couldn’t take it anymore.

“What the hell are you doing?  Are you just going to keep me locked up in here, fucking naked and alone all day!”

He smiled again.

“I love that wild mouth of yours, little pet,” he laughed, eating another raspberry.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat and pushed away from the table.

“Get back here,” he growled, but she was more pissed off than afraid of him.

“No.”

He got up from the table and stalked toward her.  She darted away from him, putting the couch between them.  She looked ridiculous, running from him, wrapped up in a blanket, her naked feet scampering across the floor.