Phoebe

[TaintedHeart]

::OOC-Bored beyond all reason, so I'll sum this up. It's about Phoebe Matthews, a advice column author who gives tons of awesome advice. This gets her tons of fans as well. What she doesn't seem to know, is that stalkers and obsessies come along with it...but she'll find that out soon. It's sorta Horror-ish/Forced Situation. Enjoy.

Ask Phoebe. Who these days had not heard of it? It was simply the most divine column in the entire magazine, with little doubt, and it seemed the author, Phoebe, knew exactally what she was talking about. An advice column that held five to six advice issues, and a weekly story on something relating to every day issues. What ifs, FAQ's, tons of advice that seemed to nail every problem with little ease. Phoebe knew one thing for sure through it all. She most certainly did have a good few admirers. And not that she minded, she was approached daily on the streets of Chicago everyday by fans and what not with problems, and what more than to give them her advice right there. Just shy of a celebrity, Phoebe certainly did look like one though.

A twenty one year old, already done with three years of college, and smarter than a good percent of people...probably the reason she was already finished with three years at her age. She was tall, thin, almost your model material. With soft, near innocent features and a winning, beautiful smile, curly strands of dirty blonde hair, falling in wide spirals just below her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, glittering beautiful things with lashes any other girl would kill for, colored an earthy, deep brown. She was always dressed nice, and always seemed willing to help, living in a nice little apartment in the city.

Opening her door one night after arriving from the office, an interview with a news company to become a reporter for them soon enough, she brushed back her hair, closed the door and locked it behind her and flicked on the lights. Sitting on the small glass coffee table, much to her surprise, was a massive bouquet of flowers, too many to count she finally concluded. With a flashing beautiful smile she approached them, smelling them and running soft fingers over the rosy petals as she found the card there upon the table.

"Dearest Phoebe,

You advice column is amazing. You relate to everyone's problems with a beautiful intriguing sense of all knowing, truly a goddess in the eyes of many...my eyes the most. I would, none the less, take a massive pleasure to have you answer my problem. There is a girl...a wonderful, talented, beautiful girl who I am deeply in love with. And I'm quite unsure what to do about it...I don't want to frighten her by just appearing somewhere, but it's hard to control myself. What should I do?

Yours truly, Your Secret Admirer."

A smile passing the pretty young womans lips, she sat down hastily, took a pen, from her pocket and began her response to this secret admirer, unable to shake the still amazing tingling feeling that the simply appearance of such beautiful flowers had brought her. Turning her head lightly toward the door, thinking she'd leave it right outside the door with one of the roses, she began the response then. What Phoebe, though, hadn't remembered was this much; she lived in Chicago, now, not Atlanta. Any other girl would have wondered how this person had gotten inside, who they were, so many things she'd not taken into consideration. Innocense was a blindfold at times.

"Dear Admirer,

The flowers are beautiful, I'm flattered really. But to your problem, I suggest you go for it. If you really like her, she'll understand, and from the sounds of it already you are a beautiful person. Life's too short to live on the line, jump at the nearest chance and hold on to it.

Phoebe."

Setting the rose inside of the piece of paper, she opened the door, set it on the step outside and walked back inside, closing the door lightly behind her as she walked back to her bedroom. Laying down lightly upon the bed, she soon dozed off unknowingly, not knowing that the next day would not be anywhere near what she expected.

 

[grinner666]

(OOC: I'd like to take the part of the "secret admirer" . . . let me know what you think.)

 

[TaintedHeart]

::OOC-Sure, go right ahead, I don't mind.::

 

[grinner666]

Jamie waited in the hallway outside his love, Phoebe's, apartment . . . on the stairs to the building's next story, where he wouldn't be seen when she returned. He wasn't sure she'd answer his letter, and he needed an answer . . . he was sure she'd grow to love him, if she just gave him a chance, but he needed to know what she thought of the idea first. He'd never wanted anything like he wanted this beautiful angel, but he'd . . . he continued to tell himself . . . leave her alone if she told him to back off.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused him to back further into the shadows, but he kept an eye on her doorway. He certainly didn't want to be caught loitering in a private building! Previous encounters with the police had certainly taught him that much, at least.

He peeked around the corner of the stairs, ready to start walking, acting like a leaving visitor if found, but . . . it was she!! She was, he thought, an angel in disguise . . . beautiful long legs under a modest, yet sexy, skirt, and that gorgeous hair . . . he could smell it, even from all the way down the hall.

He watched as she entered her apartment. Soon she'd see his flowers, and letter. He could barely contain his excitement.

She'd been inside for maybe a couple of minutes . . . he'd lost track of time . . . when she suddenly opened her door, dropping something on the hall floor, then went back inside, closing the door behind her. What was it? He found himself in front of her door before he even realized he'd moved, reaching for what she'd left, a folded piece of paper. He picked it up and unfolded it, putting the rose she'd left inside it in his jacket pocket, and reading the words she'd left, just for him.

"Dear Admirer,

The flowers are beautiful, I'm flattered really. But to your problem, I suggest you go for it. If you really like her, she'll understand, and from the sounds of it already you are a beautiful person. Life's too short to live on the line, jump at the nearest chance and hold on to it.

Phoebe."

He could feel himself growing more and more excited as he read her words. "I suggest you go for it"!! She wanted to get to know him! Her acting as if she were talking about two strangers, an obvious lie, only made her words more exciting to him. He'd have to meet her. Tonight.

He backed off to the stairwell again for a while, giving her time to relax . . . he didn't want her getting upset when he introduced himself. If he was lucky she'd be asleep, and he could wake her with a kiss, like Sleeping Beauty.

He tried the door cautiously, knowing he could get past the locks again if he had to. But she'd left it unlocked, an obvious invitation! He opened it quietly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

He didn't bother turning on the lights . . . he'd already been in her apartment often enough to know it like the back of his hand. He moved silently from her entryway to her bedroom, pulling a hypodermic syringe from his coat pocket as he did so . . . just a little something to keep her quiet until she had a chance to get to know him. He didn't want to spoil the experience for her with police and the like . . .

Lights from the street streamed through her bedroom windows, highlighting her sleeping form and turning her dirty-blonde hair to pure spun silver. She was so beautiful when she slept, even if he couldn't see the caramel of her eyes . . .

He approached the bedside quickly, and quietly, carefully eased her skirt up . . . she even slept clothed!! What an innocent. He pulled the cover off the hypodermic with his teeth, then plunged it into the flesh of her backside and shoved the plunger home.

She gasped when the needle pierced her skin, waking suddenly. She seemed about to call out, so he quickly pulled the needle out and placed one large, hamlike hand over her mouth and nose, holding her still until the drug took effect. It did so quickly, and once her muscles relaxed he let her go to gather up his things . . . the hypo, the bouquet and letter . . . then moved around the apartment with a handkerchief, quickly and efficiently wiping his fingerprints from every surface he might have touched.

He exited the apartment and checked the street for passersby. There were none, so he picked her and his things up, easily slinging her over his shoulder, and used her keys to lock the door behind him. He carried her quickly out to his van and, after placing her on the floor in back, got in front and started it up.

He drove out of the city, humming to himself. His place was a couple of hours outside of Chicago, but the drugs in her system would keep her out for at least twice that long. Soon enough he'd be introducing himself, and her new life, to her. His happiness was nearly complete. She'd practically told him she loved him . . . soon she'd be his, body, mind and soul.

He finally got to his place. It looked abandoned from the outside . . . all the downstairs windows boarded up, hadn't been painted in years . . . but it was his, and he'd fixed up a couple of rooms especially for her. Shutting down the van and getting out, he opened the sliding door and lifted her gently up. Cradling her in his massive arms, he took her into the house, and into her room. It would be dark in the daytime, what with the boarded-up windows, but it was set up for a princess. His princess.

He laid her gently on the satin duvet of the bed and stretched out her arms, tying them gently with silk scarves to the bedposts. He didn't want her hurting herself before she had a chance to meet and fall in love with him, after all. He did the same with her ankles, then sat in a nearby chair, waiting for her to wake to her new life.

 

[TaintedHeart]

What had she to remember? Nothing...nothing at all, almost. Just entering her apartment that night after the interview, expecting a phone call within the next few days. She was sure she'd done a well enough job with it, and was eager for her answer, only to find a gorgeous arrangement to meet her inside of her apartment. She'd returned a letter and it so seemed, fell asleep...to be stirred by the strangest dream. With needles, and flashing lights...the sound of the road to reach her ears, even her cat talking to her. An odd dream, which gave her some idea of travelling off somewhere. But she wasn't expecting anything of the sort. No. When she opened her eyes, she expected it to be a fresh newday, head down to her office and start on some new letters. It seemed that was unlikely to happen.

For a moment, Phoebe wondered about the silence. She should hear car horns, children, crowds...nothing but silenced reached her. Perhaps it wasn't as early as she thought? She stirred lightly, turning a beautiful face to the side as she dozed absentmindedly, her mind refusing to want to wake up as she so desired. Though the quiet was unnerving nearly, even at the latest of hours, in Chicago, nothing was ever truly quiet. She wondered just what it was. Perhaps another dream. Oh, but it seemed so real.

With another moment of pause, her mind finally gave into the silence wishes of her body, those long lashes fluttering to let soft eyes flash open. Dreaming, she seemed to be telling herself, pausing and looking around. It seemed too real though. Her fingers flexed as she pulled her hands to place them aside her. No such luck. Tugging again, only to find they weren't going to be moving, the soft material of silk holding them from travelling as she willed them. Just what was this?

No dream, she realized. Though Phoebe was a patient, calm young woman, never one to jump to conclusions. The first thing she did was try and identify where she was. Those wide, innocent deep eyes flickered about the room, seeming only equipt for perhaps just what she was nearing, some godly celebrity princess of sorts, a delightful sight, but what she was wondering was more than interest. Where in the world was she? And more importantly, how in the world had she gotten there?

Those blonde spirals shifted as she rose her head just lightly, flickering over the room just to catch sight of a person here. A man it seemed, sitting in a chair close by. If Phoebe hadn't been suspecting any sense of foul play before, she most definately was now.

Her legs seemed to be but two steps ahead of the rest of her, eagerly wishing to raise her from the position she was in, though she recieved the same negative jam her hands had been given. No such luck.

Yes, the perfect sweet little angel had patience, grace, calmness. But in this situation, it seemed to get worse and worse as she tried more and more to remain calm. Until he mind finally told her, this was not a situation to try and be calm in.

Panic seizing the nearly fragile looking young woman's form she tried to get anotehr grasp on what had happen. This most certainly wasn't her apartment, nor did it sound near by. She heard no cars, no horns, no people. The windows, her eyes had recieved, were boarded. And here she lay, restricted of movement upon a bed, in a heavenly little room with a man she'd never seen before in her life. Who wouldn't panic.

"W-where am I?" She spoke so softly that the words nearly made fall back into a whisper. But she was scared, and just who wouldn't be in this situation? Something like this could scare one of those masked murders off of the television...but how different from the television was this situation?

Hadn't she seen this type of thing? Hadn't she seen this before, normally on the police shows she occasionally watched? She was sure she had. But how far did reality relate to television. Phoebe had always pictured them different, much different. But here and now, she seemed to find, she was right. It was a lot more frightening, shocking, and heart pounding than even the movies made it seemed.

"Who are you?" She spoke one more, now with a sureness that this wasn't some dream, some odd illusion that she'd sucked herself into. How much of a full grasp she had on this situation, she wasn't sure...probably not enough to realize what her friends had told her was right. Chicago was not a place to so freely respond to such treatment...you never know who you might have on the other line. And it so seemed, even though she was not full aware of it, that she'd just bumped right into an obsessie.

The poor girl hadn't even clearly noticed that this may have something to do with the roses she found in her room earlier that day.

She hadn't even taken it into consideration, simply believed it was some lucky guy, who she might hear of on the news in a few days giving this girl he loved so dearly a world wide proposal or something, and then thanking her for the advice. No, she had no idea the entire thing centered around her. Perhaps that was yet her largest problem. Her eyes fell upon the stranger in a confused, quite panicked bewilderment as she gave those tiny, soft wrists of hers another try and getting free from the silk confinement they were sentenced to.

 

[grinner666]

She was awake, which of course meant she had questions. Jamie smiled to himself, knowing now that he'd done the right thing, that he would answer her questions and that she'd see how much he loved her . . . see and, what's more, return that love.

He lifted his massive frame off the chair in which he'd been sitting for several hours now, hearing it creak and complain at the sudden weight shift. Crossing ponderously to the bed he sat beside her on it, smiling down at the beautiful form that seemed so fragile when compared to his. He laid a thick, sausagelike finger across her lips.

"Ssshh, Phoebe . . . so many questions," his voice rumbled at her, "Answers will come later, when you're feeling better, my love, but for now . . . you're home. And I? I . . . am your greatest admirer. Thank you so much for your advice . . . jumping at the nearest chance and holding on to it never felt so right."

He stroked at her hair gently, using his fingers to fan it out around her, stroking her scalp and the sides of her face and neck, waiting for her smile as she recognized the feelings she had for him, too . . .

 

[TaintedHeart]

Home? Phoebe felt a sudden sense of chill creep up to her veins and freeze a gentle heart in the process. What was he talking about? This most certainly wasn't where she lived. True, it was elegant, amazing even, but nothing of the sort that she had expected to wake up to. A clean kept apartment, with white washed walls and vanilla carpetting, her cat running around and a bouquet of newly aquired flowers on her coffee table.

So, it seemed she'd found her secret admirer, but not the way she had expected to find him. She had expected to hear about him on the news or something, something that had nothing more to do with her. But no, obviously she had just met her greatest admirer, and he thought much more about her advice than she had. Those floating pieces of a puzzle that was hastily becomming a massive fear began to piece together.

He'd left her those flowers and the letter, and had been talking about her the entire time. And now, it so seemed, he'd taken her from her home and brought her here. Phoebe stared in a picture of pure shocked surprise, the facts sinking in.

He moved from that chair to sit upon the bed aside her, the increasing urge to get out of the position she was in sending to her body like pulsing lightning streaks. Now that it seemed the silk holding her arms to the bedpost was not going to break, she began trying with the hardest possible will to get her hand under it. As he raised a hand, her liquid like, earthy brown eyes watching with a stilled gaze she couldn't break, she feared for a few moments only to find him place a finger over her lips. Here now, she seemed to relize as well how small she may had appeared in comparison to him.

He snapped her back to that place she had been, when the first words he'd uttered sent her mind into a confused flutter. She wasn't confused now. She was scared, beyond all reason, and who in the right mind wouldn't be? So that first dream, about the needles, and the road...had he kidnapped her? It so appearantly looked like he had. That advice had been so twisted against her that she didn't know what to do now as he stroked those dim gold strands away from her face, her heart beat quickening it's pace as she tried to identify a way out...or what more, something to say.

"But..But I can't stay here! This isn't my home, I've got a job and family around me back there and...I'm sorry, this just isn't right. If I had any idea that it was about me I..." Phoebe trailed off now unable to think of anything that may have not come off the wrong way. But her mind did not want to stop there. She spilled the words out with that still soft voice without even knowing so.

"Wait..how did I get here? You brought me here didn't you! You can't do that...it's illegal it's...sir, I need to go back--I want to, I'm sorry, this isn't what I ment in that letter. I thought you were talking about someone else, not me.."

 

[grinner666]

Jamie furrowed his brows in confusion. How could somthing he'd worked so hard for, done so much to achieve, not be right? And now she was talking about "illegal" . . . memories, of cops and prisons, people who tried to hurt him though they never really could . . . sprang to mind, and he squeezed her shoulder, hard, before he could stop himself or even realized he was doing it. Why would she be saying such things, when she'd practically invited him in, with that letter, and leaving her door unlocked like that just for him . . .

He realized he was hurting her. That was bad. You didn't hurt people you loved unless they needed to be taught a lesson. She hadn't earned a lesson yet, had she? He decided she hadn't. He let her go and stroked her bruised collarbone gently, mumbling, "I'm sorry, my love," then leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. Something, though, was scratching at the back of his mind . . .

"If I had any idea that it was about me I..."

Could it be that she really didn't love him? His mind could barely wrap itself around the concept. No, it couldn't be. She'd called him a "beautiful person", hadn't she? She had to love him. He'd . . . he'd give her some time, that was it, give her some time to get to know him better. Then she'd come around.

"Oh, baby," he rumbled at her, continuing to stroke her hair with his free hand, "you're here to fall in love. To learn about love, and to love me. You'll understand after you get to know me, just like you said in your letter."

He patted her forehead with a hand the size of a dinner plate and rose from the bed. As he opened the door he said, "You mustn't be feeling well. I'll let you get some sleep, and we'll talk again in the morning. Sorry I can't let you up from the bed, but the house . . . it can be dangerous if you don't know your way around. Getting up would be a bad idea. Good night, my love."

After he'd closed the door, he silently locked it from the outside. That way if she was naughty and tried to get out, she'd be safe in her bedroom until morning. He hadn't been lying about the house being dangerous if you didn't know where the traps he'd placed all around were, but the only other exit from her room went only to the bathroom he'd fixed up for her. Nothing to hurt her in there, at least. He sat in an oversized chair opposite her door and tried to sleep, but sleep, as it often did, never came.

 

[TaintedHeart]

Phoebe came to realize quite quickly that it wasn't good to mention illegal, much less the police. Once...or rather if she got out of there, then she could head toward the police, for it seemed if anything, this man was out of his mind. With a wince as he squeeze her shoulder she fell silent instantly, having a feeling those question would go unanswered. Oh how she might have killed to close her eyes and open them to sunlight, her true home. For now, it seemed, that was not going to happen. It had been, she'd realized, an even larger mistake she recognized, to leave the door unlocked. This wasn't any smaller city or normal neighborhood that she could do that, and this was one of the worst times of all to forget to lock the door.

Knowing that she very well may have a bruise where he had grasped her shoulder so roughly, refusing to speak in fear of truly angering him, she wished so dearly to turn her head away. He apologized, but his words were unnerving. His love? He certainly was going to extremes, wasn't he? She'd not seen him a moment of her life, until just presently, and he was already giving her that pet name? Phoebe nearly shivered from the thought.

Though what could she think of him. Phoebe hadn't many options. For one, she was more than resentful, and still very frightened of the situation, but had a feeling he ment no harm to her. Love? There was no way she could find herself doing that, she barely knew him, and already she was worried about their meeting. He'd kidnapped her, and brought her to this place...and how long he planned on keeping her here, she did not want to imagine.

Love? And love him? Was he mad? He must be, she concluded. Turning her head away as he continued to speak, telling her she'd understand and then mentioning the letter she felt a spreading annoyance. He'd taken that letter the wrong way, the wrongest to the extreme. She needed to make that clear...but it seemed that would not be possible now.

As he patted her head with a massive hand and started to leave she had just began to speak when he began. She was feeling fine, and in the situation she was in, she was sure it would be more than difficult to try and sleep after just waking. As he spoke about letting her from the bed she felt her heart sink, the fastened pace still racing as he exited the room.

And as soon as that door closed, she listened. The familiar click of a lock sunk her spirits. But that wasn't going to stop her from trying to get out. Now flying into a frenzied meaning of escaped, twisting and turning delicate wrists to try and free them from the silk she began to try and reach the knot they were tied in. No such luck. Tugging her left one downward, she began to feel it slowly yet surely manage to ease it's way down, until finally the small hand was free.

Instantly she moved it to aid the other, feeling a flush of relief as she loosened the silk constriction the best she could before slipping her hands from it. Sitting up, still feeling a bit awkward from that odd sleep she'd not noticed was not something normal, she freed her feet and stood hastily, rushing about the room to the windows first. She pulled at the boards with soft, long delicate fingers, finally backing away in frustration. How would she get out of here?

She circled the room, running her hands through her hair as she tried her hardest to keep calm, fighting away tears from those innocent light brown eyes. 'Stay calm Phoebe...think, how to get out...' Walking around the room, despite it's attractive beauty she found herself unable to enjoy it, not in this situation. Her eyes turned to a second door and she quickly moved to it, opened it, only to find an equally elegant bathroom. She moved about, trying to find something, some way out. Still no luck. Closing the door and sitting on the toilet she paused for a moment. Checking her body for the cell phone, or the tape recorder she had earlier, she found she still had her cell phone, the small, compact little thing hooked on her waist, hidden inside rather out to not mess up her appearance.

With a surge of relief she pulled it up, only to find the antenna broken. As if some other divine being was torturing her.

"Shit.." Opening it hastily, finding that the battery was on self recharge, and it would be inactive until the morning she rubbed her temples. Hastily tucking it away safely, she fixed that delicate length of the dark purple skirt she was wearing, in the process fixing the light lavender shirt and running her fingers through her hair. There was no where to hide either, it seemed. She exited the bathroom, moving to the door and listening. Nothing. Placing a hand upon the knob, she began to turn it only to find it stopped by the lock.

Turning now with anxiety playing with her mind, clouding it with confusion and frantic wishing to get as far as possible away from this man, she rested upon the bed lightly, soon finding herself asleep, waiting with a troubled mind for the next day.

 

[grinner666]

He opened the door carefully, having heard her testing the lock in the night. It nearly broke his heart, knowing she'd ignored his advice. But he was more disappointed in himself. He'd have to be more careful in future. If he wasn't, he might have to teach her a lesson about being a good girl, and then the Bad Things would start to happen again. No, he didn't want that, not at all . . .

He entered the room carefully, prepared for an attack, but . . . she was asleep on the bed, the silk ties he'd so lovingly secured her with still hanging from the bedposts as if forgotten. He'd have to get something more secure to keep her from wandering.

His Phoebe was curled up on her side in the foetal position, her breathing deep and regular. She was so beautiful! But those clothes were getting dirty and wrinkled, and she would probably appreciate a chance to clean up for him. He'd let her do that as soon as she woke. And he had some lovely, sexy things she'd probably enjoy wearing for him . . . silk nighties and pretty little panty-and-bra sets, some truly beautiful dresses . . . he'd have to pick out something nice for her.

He locked the door quietly, putting the key in his pocket, then walked over to the bed and, on impulse, lay down beside and behind her, spooning her with his legs. He placed his hand on her hip, and ran it up her ribcage to her shoulder, savoring every curve of her beautiful form, before saying, "You've really been a very naughty girl, haven't you? You could have hurt yourself. I thought I might be able to trust you more than that, maybe even enough to give you the run of the house. But now . . . we'll have to see."

He felt her waken, her muscles tensing. She must be worried that he was angry with her! He placed a kiss on the side of her neck to reassure her. "Now, I can see that you've had ample chance to use the toilet, but would you like to bathe and change into some fresh clothes?"

 

[TaintedHeart]

Almost as if programmed, her light brown eyes opened hastily. Feeling her breath catch itself in her throat as she realized that man had once more entered the room, she may have very well lept up, dropped to the floor and hastily burried herself beneath the bed in the fright she still kept with her. This was some odd horror movie that refused to stay off, and refused to let the main spot light off of her.

Feeling him lay upon the bed, she closed her eyes once more and tried to keep a calm, clear mind, which was hastily filling with more and more troubles. Again, the option of hiding under the bed reached her once more but she forced it away. Maybe if she played along then he'd let her go...that's what the police commonly said in these situations. Just play along...and do what they want, and eventually they'll let you go...right? Dear god I hope so... Her mind had wandered once more. What about her job? Wouldn't they be wondering where she had been? Everyone knew Phoebe, so one day missing work without a message or anything, and they would sure enough be well and ready to send in a search team...but how would they find her? She didn't even know where she was!

His words opened her eyes once more, able to feel him behind her, and his hand moving up that gentle form. Again, tempted with the bed. Phoebe held her breath once more, able to feel blood rushing through her veins, and could have swore at the pace her heart was beating, she would have just nearly died of fright. Or the poor thing may have ripped right through her chest and ran off as quick as it could. Those tensing muscles were only natural, laying in perhaps one of the most vunerable positions imaginable in a bed with a total stranger. Phoebe had no idea what to do.

The kiss did little to calm those nerves, if anything, made them even worse. It was as if someone was pounding a drum right in her ear, only to find it was her own heart threatening to burst from the suspense. Feeling the hair on her neck prickle as if a ghost had just popped up right above her she froze as he spoke. He was asking her something wasn't he? For a moment, she couldn't think. And then, she wouldn't speak, her voice was refusing to work. After a deathly pause which seemed like forever, she finally brought out words.

"I...yes that would be..fine.." Simple, quiet, fearful, Phoebe wished nothing more than to get through this alive. And in that instant she did remember the cell phone, braced on her other side between her and the bed. God let it remain unknown...

 

[grinner666]

Jamie smiled and kissed the side of her neck again, opening his lips slightly and touching her skin with his teeth. "Good!" he said, rising and swinging one knee over her, kneeling on her legs briefly before swinging the other leg over and standing next to her side of the bed, "Nothing like a nice, hot bath to wash away the troubles of the night, huh?"

He extended his hand and, when she . . . hesitantly . . . took it, led her to the bathroom like an excited child, chattering all the while. "I got your favorite soap for you, and the kind of shampoo and conditioner you like, and your favorite bubble bath . . . "

By this time they were in the opulent bathroom. He turned to her, looking almost mournful. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, "but after last night I just can't trust you in here all by yourself. I want our . . . special relationship to be honest and open, though, so maybe if you're honest and open with me for just a little while . . . "

He turned and started the water in the tub, then sat on the toilet, never taking his eyes off her.

 

[TaintedHeart]

As he rose, she managed to contain a squeak of surprise, still unable to shake the odd feeling that something was so horribly wrong here. Still, she knew that she'd get no where if she tried to avoid him the entire time...that may just make him angry. With a still tender collar bone, she most certainly did not want to see what would happen if she truly made him mad. So she tried to fit those soft pink lips into a small smile and swallow that fear, which seemed to only lodge itself in her throat and try and fight it's way back up.

As he extened his hand she took it, oh so hesitantly, wondering if he'd left the door unlocked that would lead out of the room. Dangerous or not, at the nearest chance she'd be out of there like a bat out of hell. As he spoke of her favorite soap and shampoo and conditioner, even bubble bath she felt the oddest feeling that he'd been watching her for quite some time. The advice column was new, and yes she had posted some of her personal favorites in it...but had she put that inside?

Inside of the bathroom he spoke once more, of how he couldn't trust her inside by herself, and referred to their 'relationship'. How so dearly she wished to turn and dart right back the way she'd come. And from where she was, the bed idea still seemed like a very formidable proposition.

As he started the water, she began to try and work out what to say. Without mentioning the police, no doubt. Standing still rather close to the bathroom door, she swallowed, trying a soft smile over her gentle features and managing to get the words out without stuttering, with an anxiousness that not even gods could explain seizing her form.

"I really do appreciate this and all but..I need to go home. The office, my job, all of it I still have and well..." How on earth did you explain that this was beyond the line of odd, derranged, and illegal to someone potientially dangerous? Her fingers couldn't help but stray to the cell phone.

 

[grinner666]

He rose from the toilet and took her by the shoulders, smiling down at her and pulling her close. "Oh, baby," he rumbled, dropping his hands to her back and stroking her shoulder blades. The feel of her lovely breasts against his belly excited him terribly, but he remained a gentleman, not dropping his hands to her ass despite his great wish to. Time enough for that after she'd fallen in love with him. He realized his thing was stiff, and rubbing against her. Embarassed, he pulled away from her slightly.

He lifted her chin in one massive paw, so she was looking up at him. "You are home, you know that. That place you were staying, it was just a place to stay. This is your home."

His other hand stroked up and down her spine, from her neck to her lower back. "As far as your job goes . . . you don't need that. I'll take care of you, baby . . . forever and ever."

"Maybe after the kids start growing up you can get something, if you're bored . . . but in the meantime I think you should stay here so we can concentrate on each other."

He looked over her shoulder, into the tub. "Your tub's about full, my love," he said, backing away to sit on the toilet once again, "why don't you get undressed, and get in? Get all nice and fresh for me? Wouldn't that be nice?"

 

[TaintedHeart]

The reaction was just what she had been dreading. Swallowing as he lifted her chin to have her meet his gaze, she found that certain helplessness reach her as he spoke. Perhaps he wasn't mad, no. Obsessed...horribly obsessed, it seemed. He had obviously convinced himself of some relationship between them, some odd fantasy that this was her home, she lived here with him and she had simply forgotten or something? It wasn't normal, she realized, but he had gone far. Much too far.

She pulled back, just a little as he spoke of her job, and taking care of her and--no, she still had her job. Her family, brothers and sisters, her mother, her fans and admirers, so much that he did not seem to realize was there. His speak of kids, afterward, was just enough to make her freeze. This was some bad, horrible horror movie that she was stuck in, it seemed, and it was only getting more and more deep. She didn't want to know if this horror movie involved being chased around blindly by a mad man with a knife.

Still frozen to that spot, now in shock and confusion, and a spiking fear once more, forgetting whatever she'd heard from police and movies and all of that. It seemed now only one thing had dawned to her. Running like crazy. She took a step back.

"No..you don't understand! I can't stay here...this is..this is insane, it's just wrong. I have to go home. I've got a family and a life, and you...your obsessed. I gave you that advice thinking it was for someone else, not me. I want to go home, to my real home..." Forgetting nearly everything now, Phoebe spoke from a frenzied mind, soft vocals turned into just short of pleading tones. Her hand moved behind her to grasp the door knob.

 

[grinner666]

At the word "insane" Jamie began to growl, low in his throat. He quickly realized he was doing it, and stopped, but the sick feeling her words had left, the memory of the others who'd said similar things, remained. He grabbed a fistful of her long, soft blonde hair and pulled her away from him, lifting her on her tip-toes, his arm standing out straight as a bar of steel.

"So all this work I've done, all the preparations I made, all the love I've given you would've been fine for someone else, but not for the perfect little Phoebe Matthews?" he snarled, "You're too good for me, are you?"

He shoved her away, using just his forearm . . . the force of the shove sent her stumbling back several feet. "Get undressed and get in that tub," he ordered, "you stink of old sweat."

 

[TaintedHeart]

Phoebe's bit of courage had slipped away, replaced by that fear once more as she stood as far away from him as she could possibly get. His actions hadn't hurt her compaired to just how frightened she'd become from it, her head turning away lightly for a moment as he spoke. Twice was enough tries for her, a third attempt was not required to let Phoebe know that it was not a good idea to tamper with his patience or temper now. But nearly to scared to move from the place she'd been shoved to near the wall, she tried for now to at least get her muscles to respond.

Slowly but surely with shaking hands she rose that lavender shirt over her head, letting it fall reluctantly to the floor below, her eyes meeting the tiles as well. Refusing tears which were threatening those soft brown eyes she carefully slid that skirt down to conceal the cell phone clipped insideand set it with the shirt, leaving her then in the black colored matching lace undergarments. If anything, embarrassment was also taking its toll, undressing herself infront of an obsessed man was sure enough taking its toll on a troubled mind.

Next to go was her bra, sliding the straps down before reaching a hand around to undo the latch and drop the bra onto the pile as well. That soft flesh seemed just as perfect as all the rest of Phoebe, the innocent feminine form that had been concealed beneath the clothing echoing it's untouched purity. Finally removing her panties she made her way carefully to the tub and stepped inside, lowering a soft, elegant form into the warm water in silence, purposely avoiding his gaze with a bitter dislike, her face burning with a slow increasing anger and fear mixture. How would she manage to get out of this?

 

[grinner666]

He watched her for a few moments, until it became obvious that she wasn't going to actually clean herself, just sit there, then approached and knelt next to the tub, washcloth in hand. He dipped it in the water, then took up the bar of soap and began applying it to the cloth. "Lie back," he said, pushing on her shoulder until her hair was in the water, "Relax."

He applied the soapy cloth first to her neck and shoulders, rubbing firmly but gently, then lifted first one arm, then another, soaping them from shoulder to fingertips, then back up to her armpits, noticing that, though she didn't need to shave yet, she would soon. Maybe he'd do that for her tomorrow.

He next laid the washcloth to her sternum, soaping down the center of her chest to the top of her belly, then reversing direction and soaping . . . stroking . . . each of her lovely, perfect breasts in turn, memorizing the feel of each nipple under his fingers.

Her belly was next. That was even more perfect, in his opinion. Perfectly flat, with just a hint of woman's softness and roundness to it. He stroked slowly, langorously, taking his time, from her ribs to the top of her pubic region, up and down, up and down . . . "So beautiful," he murmured.

Next he lifted her knees out of the water, then each foot in turn, soaping her lower legs first, cleaning her feet, then putting them back in the water and, spreading her knees slightly, rubbing his way down her thighs to her hips. Finally he soaped her pubic hair, watching her reactions carefully as his fingers slipped over her lips.

"There," he said, stroking her wet hair with still-soapy fingers, "that's much better, isn't it? Now roll over, baby."

 

[TaintedHeart]

Phoebe found it difficult to relax, much too difficult, those spiral, dirty blonde locks did not fall low enough to conceal that petite form of perfection, which unnerved her even more, but still, she'd yet to relight the spark to that courage flame that was out in her mind. No, simply sat, stilly and quiet until he approached her, telling her to lie back.

She almost flinched as he touched her, the wash cloth running along milky skin as she sat there, feeling the familiar tensing of muscles as she bit her bottom lip, letting him lift her arms as her thoughts swirled about once more.

The wash cloth did not remain there for long, none the less, travelling downward then, down the center of her chest to the top of her stomach, and then over her breasts. The still, barely breathing form sunk her eyes to the water hastily, feeling the heat return to her face once more. This was a violation of privatcy, and inwardly she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Again, the travelling wash cloth. Still, her mind was wired, much too angered now as rarely Phoebe could admit anger into her emotional stream. Feeling the cloth along her stomach, that smooth, soft area wishing to recoil in response but remaining frozen as nearly all of the other muscles were locked that way. He was taking his time, it seemed, murmuring to himself words that she refused to hear as she remained still.

His hands moved lower still, down her legs slowly, up to small feet. Still he guided the cloth downward, building up the choking feeling Phoebe had been slowly developing as he began to wash that private area. Feeling her face burning with embarassment, she waited near anxiously for him to finish.

As he finished, stroking her hair lightly, she slowly rolled onto her stomach, letting the soap rinse from her form. Crossing her hands to lay her chin on them, turning her head away from him lightly she sighed, letting slip a few tears into the water silently.

 

[grinner666]

(( OOC: I'm experiencing computer troubles that are going to keep me from getting or staying online with my machine for the foreseeable future. There's another comp in the house, though, so I should be able to at least get on once or twice a day to respond to the threads I'm writing in, just not as often and usually later at night. Sorry. ))

 

[TaintedHeart]

::OOC-That's alright, don't worry about it.::

 

[grinner666]

Jamie had noticed her embarassment when he touched her private places. Good, he hadn't wanted to think he'd chosen a slut for his new love. She was strong-willed, even willful, and not used to her new life yet, but she wasn't that. And soon enough she'd learn to accept things as they were, he was sure. Or at least he fervently hoped so. Bad Things might happen to her otherwise . . .

He began slowly washing her shoulder blades, taking his time, using the strength in his great fingers to force her tense muscles to relax. How could she learn to accept, if she didn't learn to relax? Eventually, though, her muscles would relax, and then her mind would follow. Of course it would.

He stroked up and down her spine, then began working on her lower back, continuing to use the strength of his hands to work the tension out of her body. He could feel the muscles lose their tension, at least momentarily. That would have to do for now.

He continued down to her hips, then to her fine, firm ass cheeks. He cleaned those very thoroughly, stroking and soaping and rubbing. He could feel himself hardening at the feel and sight of her beautiful prone body under his hands, his breath deepening slightly. Before he finished those firm, pale globes, though, he slid two soapy fingers into the crack between them, making sure he got that area nice and clean for her, too.

Her legs were as beautiful as the rest of her, shapely and well-muscled, but also just as tense. He dug his fingers and thumbs into her muscles, forcing them to submit, to relax under his expert ministrations. Soon he realized, slightly disappointed, that he was finished.

He took up the shampoo and poured a generous portion into his hand, then rubbed both hands together before beginning to stroke her neck and scalp. Her hair was a sweaty, tangled mess, so he made sure to carefully clear the knots away as he cleaned her.

Finished, he rinsed his hands in the now-gray, soapy water, then opened the drain and stood, looming over her prone form. He dried his hands, then said, "Why don't you use the shower to rinse off? I'll go get you some clean clothes. I know you like lacy underthings, and I have some beautiful things for you to wear for me." With that, he scooped her dirty clothes into the crook of his arm and left the bathroom, leaving the door open.

He crossed her bedroom and unlocked her closet, dropping her dirty things into an empty hamper. A dull thud from the falling clothing attracted his attention, so he bent over and searched through them. A cell phone! She'd hidden a cell phone from him!

His brows furrowed in anger. It wasn't like she could even get a signal with it, 'way out here in the country, but to think that she'd concealed its existence from him, after all his talking to her about being open and honest with each other! Maybe, an unwelcome part of him thought, it was time to teach her a lesson after all. A lesson about being a sneak.

Then he noticed the broken antenna.

Was she going to try to use it to leave him? As a weapon, or a lockpick? He grunted in amusement. It would take more than a tiny piece of wire to hurt him, and she'd need professional lock picking tools to open any lock in this house. Still, teaching her a lesson began to seem less and less an option, and more a necessity.

He dropped the cell in his right pocket, her panties in his left, then locked the closet door without bothering with any of the pretty things inside. Time for that another day, after she'd learned to be more honest with him. He left her bedroom, locking that door as well, then went down to the other room he'd prepared especially for her.

Once there, he quickly retrieved two items, then returned to her room, locking himself in with her. He stood in the bathroom doorway, not showing her what he held in his left hand, pasting on a friendly smile. But he couldn't stand it, being dishonest with her, so he found himself giving her a hard stare, his lip curling back in a snarl.

"This," he growled, pulling the cell out of his pocket and pointing it at her, "is not the way to be honest and open with me. You've been a very bad girl."

With that, he smashed the phone against the door frame, shattering it into dozens of pieces.

 

[TaintedHeart]

Forcing those muscles into relaxing had worked, mainly because Phoebe had learned that it wasn't smart to do anything against what he wanted. Not that she planned on following her own minds advice, oh no, she was more than prepared to do whatever she pleased herself with doing. And for now, there was only one thought on her mind. Getting out of there.

As he washed down her body she closed her eyes, wishing dearly for him to say he was finished and leave her be. But that didn't come, no, he continued down from her shoulder blades, forcing those tender muscles beneath baby soft skin to relax, against her own wishes no doubt.

As he travelled down to her hips she felt the muscles began to freeze up then, and attempted to force them to relax, not to much effect, in fact she may have made them worse. As his fingers slid over her shapely ass she swallowed hard, feeling the heat returning to her face and that still much too apparent feeling of violation as well. She tossed her mind to the clouds, only allowing it to return as he finished and began to soap her hair.

Those dirty blonde strands had lost their beautiful spiral form for the time, but as soon as she was in dry air, they would take right back to their natural curl as she knew they always did.

He stood finally, a flushing feeling of releif spreading over her as she looked up with a blank face to him. He spoke of using the shower to rinse of, and then said something about getting her some clean clothes. Her mind strayed then to getting out of here...or getting her cell phone. As she stood, closed the shower curtain, and listened for him to leave, she quickly reopened it, only to find that the clothes were no longer there. Her cell phone had been carried off with them.

Trying to keep a clear mind about her, for now she had two things; fear of it being found and fear of him breaking it if he found it.

The water was turned on, and she let it run over her form, as well as her fingers after having being washed by some total stranger, she couldn't have felt more awkward in her entire life. She finally rinsed her hair, wanting to stay there alone for as long as she could. Though reluctantly, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around that thin, pretty form and sitting upon the edge of the bathtub, her hair already starting to spiral back.

Not before her eyes scanned about the room. There were no ways out, it seemed. Every window in here was boarded up, not even the smallest of sunshine could get through. Her eyes turned upward, toward the vent as she inspected it. For once thing, could she fit? And for another, how in the world would she get up there? It seemed that may just be her way out...if she could fit, and reach it.

Phoebe knew herself to be quite flexible, so she didn't doubt her abilities to fit mostly, just the problem of reaching it...and what if she was caught? God only knew what would happen to her then.

She heard him moving around outside, before exitting the room, and she didn't bother to trouble herself with standing and trying to get out. Unlike her, she was sure, he probably remembered to lock all the doors after he had been in the room.

A bit of time passed between the time he'd left, and she busied herself with drying completely in the time to wait before wrapping the towel one more around her small body, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She had to find some way to convince him that she didn't belong here, and that he must have mistaken her or something. But not yet...later, she was so hoping.

As the bathroom door was opened, she watched him, knowing that the look on his face said something. He'd found that cell phone. Shit.. Her thoughts were swept away as she stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"This," She tensed as he hissed his words, her eyes hastily sinking down to the tiles upon the ground as she sat there like a child who'd been caught doing a bad thing they'd been told not to do countless times before, "is not the way to be honest and open with me. You've been a very bad girl."

Her eyes rose as he smashed the cell phone, flinching in response as her fingers clung now to the towel wrapped around her in a returning mixture of shock and fear. He'd locked the bathroom door. And unless she could find a way to get up very quickly, she had a feeling she was not going to like what came next.

 

[grinner666]

Jamie moved forward, further crushing the cell phone beneath his feet, and grabbed Phoebe by the hair once again. He twisted her around, grabbing one wrist as she spun, then took the first of the items he'd retrieved from the other room . . . a pair of handcuffs . . . and quickly cuffed both wrists behind her back.

That done, he spun her around to face him and easily flicked the towel she wore open, then pulled it away from her. "Since you decided to use your clothes to be dishonest with me," he growled, "you don't get them any more until I've decided you deserve them."

He lifted her chin and grinned down at her, more a baring of his teeth than anything else, and said, "Don't worry though, I've got something else for you to wear."

With that he clapped a collar, a plain, solid, hinged stainless steel band with an integral brass padlock and a large steel ring at the front, around her neck and closed it with a *click*, locking it. He grabbed the ring and pulled, saying, "Come along."

He dragged her along out of the bathroom, then out of the bedroom, through a maze of small rooms and chambers . . . at least the might have been different rooms and chambers, they might have just been one big room filled with an amazing array of piles of old junk . . . until he stopped in front of another door.

"This is another room I prepared just for you, my love," he said, swinging the door open, "though I'd hoped never to have to show it to you. It's a room you'll only see when I have to teach you a lesson. With that, he pulled her inside, into what could only be described as a torture chamber.

Unlike such chambers in movies, it was lit well enough to perform surgery in, but it was furnished in such a way as to make its purpose unmistakable. There were several tables and chairs of various sizes, all designed to restrain a human being, and a long counter along one wall, filled with whips and other tools whose purpose he assumed she couldn't yet imagine, but which he knew well. He dragged her in, watching for her response . . .

 

[TaintedHeart]

Phoebe's eyes rose as he began to move, any hopes of the cell phone being usable disappearing as he crushed it beneath his feet. The first time he'd grabbed her by the hair she hadn't paid much mind, but this time it was different. Wincing and not daring pull back, should he pull her head right off for her resistance, she moved without hesitation, not favoring any brusies or broken bones. Her 'admirer' seemed like he was very capable of issuing them.

Her hands were cuffed, something she'd never experienced. Sure, she'd seen them plenty of times, but she never had to think that she'd be the ones stuck. The miute they were on she tugged, twisted her wrists behind her back to try and slip them out, but the more she moved, the tighter they god. Again, she was turned to face him as he pulled away the towel, her gaze turning to the tiled floor once more as he growled the words to her.

He lifted her chin, but she didn't meet his gaze, her eyes instead travelling as far as she could possibly get them.

The cold steel around a soft, slender neck was just enough to lodge that fear there in her mind, probably for as long as she was around this man. She was unsure what to think, and didn't dare say anything in fear of angering him once more. As he grabbed the ring, telling her to go with him she followed, the air inside drawing goosebumps over her smooth skin.

Out of the bathroom, then out of the bedroom, the entire place was dark, though Phoebe was trying her hardest to see something, someplace out, a window, anything, it seemed like nothing for now. As she was led through that awkward maze, unsure where he was taking her, or where exactally she was even, she listened to her own hasty beating heart, unable to try and calm herself.

Teach her a lesson? For trying to get out of this horror story? The man was mad, she concluded, insane, he'd probably lost it the minute he'd learned about her. Or maybe he'd been that way his entire life? She did not know, nor did she care, but that fear seemed to magnify itself as he spoke. And as she was led inside, she could have practically pinned herself to a wall with a calavry around and gone 'Ready, aim, fire!'

She felt her voice lodge itself in her throat as she stared, wide eyes. A torture chamber? This man was insane! He was more than insane, she couldn't muster a word to describe it...and she didn't want to try and find one to suit this room. Tears seemed inevitable, but in a room like this, a group of muscle builders could have broke into tears like a kindergarten girl. She sain nothing, letting but one of those tears slip as she stared at the ground, a developing headache not helping her to relax. Why hadn't she hidden the cell phone under the mattress, or under the bed? Someplace that he may not have found it? Naked, frightened, and standing in a torture chamber, her mind seemed to explode with what may happen in here...