The Blood Debt

Chapter 4

Ayla

He comes again later with what I think is dinner.

"C'mon Vengeance," he says, as walks into the kitchen holding a container and sits down at the table.

I'm hoping my degradation has ended and he'll let me eat on my own like the adult that I am, but as soon as I try to pull out the chair his eyes land on my hand and he looks at me from under raised brows like he's saying don't even try it.

I lose my nerve and I wait while he unpacks a fruit salad before he reaches out for my wrist and pulls me between his legs.

"You need to go slow today," he tells me, as he pulls me down.

I wriggle, trying to adjust my weight so that we make as little contact as possible.

"You've been starving yourself for eighteen days. So today you're only allowed fruit. Once you put on the weight you've lost, you can go back to eating on your own, but not before then," he tells me.

I look up at him, his revelation is so shocking that I can't disguise my surprise.

Eighteen days!

My eyes prickle with tears.

All this time I've spent obsessing about how long I've been here... suddenly it's the last thing I want to know.  That maddening feeling of wondering whether it's day or night, questioning one day ends and the next begins - how futile it's all been.

He feeds me grapes, banana slices and apple cubes while I sit there, hopelessness taking over me as I wonder how many more days will pass like this. I wonder when, if ever, someone will come for me. I'm so preoccupied with my own misery that I forget he's feeding me. I don't feel his hand on my behind, but then he picks up a piece of watermelon that slips from his fingers, and as he fumbles to catch it, he drops it down the front of my t-shirt.

It rouses me from my stupor and I jerk forward, moving my hand to grab it, when he pulls my hand back and places it by my side. His eyes anchor me into place and I watch with frozen horror as he moves his own hand down my chest, letting it brush against my breasts as he pulls it out himself.

He holds it to my mouth.

I can't take my eyes off him, but I shake my head no.

"Open your mouth," he says, his voice sounding harder than it has all day.

I watch him in a silent standoff but eventually lose my nerve and open my mouth.

He places it in my mouth, leaving his fingers there before telling me to suck them clean.

My eyes water as I stare at him horrified, my mouth agape refusing to do as he says.

"Suck them clean or I might get ideas about putting something else in your mouth," he tells me.

A knot forms in my throat and a loan moan escapes me.

I close my lips around his fingers, cleaning them with my mouth. 

When he eventually pulls them out, he continues to feed me like he didn't just violate my mouth. I'm mortified and tears stream down my face as I fidget uncomfortably.

"Stop moving," he says, sounding annoyed.

"I was just trying to shift my weight," I tell him.

"Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? You're not exactly heavy. I can see your fucking bones."

He makes no secret of his disgust for me.