Reduced to Ruin

Chapter 25

Later in the afternoon, I looked through my closet for a "nice dress," as James had requested. It was much easier to look through my closet now that all of my size twelve clothes were whisked away. I wasn't really wearing my size ten clothes anymore, either, but I hadn't packed them up yet.

It surprisingly felt good to look good. James had recently bought me a blue silky-type dress that went to just above my knees. I had already worn the red dress the other night, so this was the next stylish choice.

James came in around six, bags in hand. It was a familiar scene. He was dressed nicely, which wasn't unusual for him.

"Good evening," James said as he came in and gave me a kiss. "Don't you look beautiful."

"Thank you. I like this dress you picked out for me."

"Are you hungry?" James asked.

"Always," I replied. "What are we having?"

"How about some lobster, salad, garlic bread, and chocolate cake for dessert?"

"Mmm. Sounds delicious," I said.

When we finally sat down to eat, James said grace.

"Dear Lord, we'd like to thank you for the wonderful feast You've placed before us this evening. We have so much to be thankful for, Lord, and we ask for your blessings. Amen."

The food was delicious. We enjoyed the meal, cracking jokes and having a good time. All in all, the day was magical. I couldn't have asked for more, except maybe for pure freedom. But even that was so inconceivable, I always pressed it down to the darkest recesses of my mind.

It must've been past midnight by the time we were done with dinner, dessert, and another movie. I told him to leave the mess, and I would clean it up myself. But James insisted on helping me.

We cleared off the dining room table, loaded the dishwasher, and cleaned up the kitchen, all without saying anything, just listening to a Lady Gaga song playing on my iPod. I turned to put a dish in the sink at the same time James turned from the sink, and we collided, sending the dish crashing to the floor. We both laughed. He leaned in to kiss me. I froze.

He pressed against me, pushing me against the counter and kicking the broken dish pieces aside. I held on to the countertop, anxiously waiting for the ordeal to be over. He wrapped his arms behind me, placing my arms around his neck. Maybe that gave him the illusion that this "make out session" was real.

He again forced his tongue in my mouth, methodically and slowly working his way around. I was trapped and felt like I couldn't breathe.

Finally James separated and said, "Uh, I better go before I can't stop." Then he whispered, "Thank you."

I walked him to the door, and the magical day came to an end with James locking the deadbolt behind him.

I couldn't sleep that night. I tossed and turned, letting the memories of James's kiss linger on my lips. How much longer was this going to go on like this? And how was I going to get out of it? I wondered if I could earn his trust enough to gain some freedom. I thought of Sophia's life and how she was able to come and go as she pleased. She was even part of the community as the doctor's beautifully, poised wife.

I could be that person, too, I thought. There had to be a way to slowly convince James to let me have some freedom. I wondered if it would be possible before our relationship escalated to the inevitable sexually active stage. Or should I say rape? Because that's exactly what it would be.