"Wake up, princess. It's showtime."
Ciara trembled as she looked up at her captor, watching as he twirled the hotshot on his fingers. Though she knew it was no use, she couldn't help but pull on her restraints, instinctually trying to get away. He smiled at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. The spot on her stomach was stinging, and she knew that was only the beginning.
He put the hotshot down and adjusted his new mask, not used to wearing it. He hadn't had to wear a mask in three months. He had forgotten to wear it the day before, but he'd only been on screen for one minute and forty-three seconds. Even then, he hadn't looked at the camera straight enough to give Garcia a chance to capture his face.
Ciara hated the new mask. It only covered the top half of his face, but that was enough to screw up any facial-recognition software. But what she hated was the fact that it left that terrible mouth free to do terrible things to her. It left him free to force kisses on her, to suck painful hickeys onto her skin, to bite her if he so pleased. He wasn't much of a biter, but sometimes he wanted to inflict that extra little bit of pain on her.
Pain. That was all her life was now. Everything revolved around pain. The pain she felt now.
The pain she was going to feel in the future. And her, desperately trying to find any way to prevent the pain. She'd learned by now that as long as she played his game, it wouldn't be so bad. But he'd learned where her limit was. Where she wasn't willing to play anymore. And he always brought her to that point, and when she resisted, he'd make her regret it. Every. Single. Time.
"Did you sleep well?" her captor asked, and immediately, her danger senses began firing off. She knew he didn't care how she slept. So what did he want? She narrowed her eyes at him and held her tongue. Whatever it was, he wasn't getting it. He sighed, and she only had enough time to widen her eyes before he pressed the hotshot to her stomach, sending lightning across her skin. He drew the hotshot back as she yelped, amusement crossing his lips. "It's rude to not answer when someone asks a question. So I'll ask again. Did you sleep well?"
"No," she answered.
"Why not?"
"Why do ye care?" she asked, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head, causing her heart to drop in her chest. Never question him. That was one of her rules. And she had forgotten it. How could she forget one of her own rules when, as long as she followed them, they kept him from hurting her? Her eyes glanced towards the hotshot, and he lifted it with a cock of his head. Giving her a chance. How merciful of him. "The table's uncomfortable."
"Well, I can't have you getting too comfortable, now can I?" he asked, walking up to the table. "I won't ever break you if I do that." He put two fingers under her chin and lifted it, before turning her head towards him. Her neck twinged as he did so, but whether that was from her sleeping arrangement or from the hickeys, she wasn't sure.
The thought of him breaking her sent a quiver of fear down her spine. Several times he'd brought her to that edge. Several times she'd approached her breaking point. Several times she'd been ready to scream submission and give him exactly what he wanted if he'd just stop. But every time, he'd pull back just as she got there. Maybe it was luck. Or maybe he didn't want her breaking just yet. She wasn't sure.
She forced herself out of her thoughts. Now was not the time to be lost in her own head. Right now she needed to focus on the present and what she needed to do to survive and to keep him from hurting her. Later, when he was done with her, she could let her thoughts run away with her. Later she could get lost in her own mind to distract herself from the blinding pain. But not now. Never at the beginning of the game. If she got distracted now, she'd slip up and make a mistake. And if she slipped up and made a mistake, he'd hurt her.
His lips ghosted along her neck, and she closed her eyes, tensing up. Please, God, not already. I'm still sore from the last time. But she knew better than to pray. All of her prayers so far had gone unanswered. Sometimes she couldn't help but think that God had completely abandoned her. But maybe it wasn't her. Maybe it was the place. She knew far too well that God hadn't been in that place for a very, very long time.
He firmly pressed a kiss onto her neck, and she whimpered. She wasn't ready. Oh, God, she wasn't ready.
"Don't. Please, don't." Ciara's eyes shot open and she looked up at the camera. Her captor followed her line of sight, the corners of his mouth pricking up. His partner finally reappeared and sat behind the computer, eyebrow raised in amusement. She tried to reach towards the computer, reach towards him, but her hands were firmly strapped down to the table.
"Reid?" she asked. She knew his voice as well as her own. But she had to be sure. She had to know it was real.
"Hey, Ciara. Long time, no see." She smiled sadly. She wished she could see him. But, as it was, her captor had never let her see the other side. She could hear their voices, but that was it. But sometimes that was a curse. Like now, when Reid's voice sounded so sad. So hurt. What had happened while she was asleep?
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, Ciara. You hear me? Nothing."
"How sweet," her captor said with a laugh, before standing up, grabbing the hotshot. "After all this time, he's still trying to look out for you. But that comes at a cost, doesn't it, Dr. Reid?"
"Ye bastard. What'd ye do to him?" Ciara asked, and he looked over to her.
"I guess it goes both ways. How cute. You two still trying to protect each other," he said, before laughing. Ciara's breath caught in her throat. She knew that laugh. That maniacal laugh that preceded the torture. The calm before the storm. She'd learned the signs. She'd learned when he was going to torture her. When he was going to beat her. And she'd learned when he was going to force himself upon her. "Let's play a game."
"Let's not," she responded, instantly regretting it. Quick as a flash, he grabbed up the hot-shot and pressed it to her non-broken arm. She tried her best not to scream, but when he continued to hold the hotshot to her skin, she eventually couldn't hold it in anymore. Only when she screamed did he pull it away.
This wasn't a new sensation. Even before he'd abducted her, she knew what being tased felt like thanks to Lucas McCoy. But the hotshot was different. With a taser, he couldn't hold it on her for more than a few seconds before she'd pass out. Hotshots, on the other hand, had the same voltage, but a much lower current, meaning he could use it significantly longer. With hotshots, it became a test of endurance- a test to see how long Ciara could last.
"You should know by now that you don't have a say in the matter, princess," he said, pressing it to her arm for just a second. She saw it coming this time, though, and managed to bite down her yelp. "Why would I care about what a whore like yourself thinks?"
"I'm not a-" She was cut off by the hotshot, this time on her leg.
"Did I fucking ask?!" he yelled, and she immediately bit her tongue to keep herself from speaking out again. She knew better. If she just shut up, the pain would stop. Already her muscles were starting to tighten and ache from the electricity and her broken arm was slightly throbbing with each beat of her heart. She wouldn't be able to take much more. "You need to quit denying it. You know you're a whore. For fuck's sake, just look at you."
You forced me into these clothes. But she didn't voice the thought. If she did, he probably would have shocked her until she had no choice but to beg him to stop. She'd hated the outfit from the moment he'd brought it to her. But he didn't give her a choice. She'd tried to resist, but he'd held her down and forcibly removed her old clothes, and then he'd... Well. He'd said he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. And when he was done, he'd forced her into the lingerie.
She hated it. Wearing it made her feel disgusting, especially when he'd told her that he chose it because it made her "sexier". Only to him would such a thing be sexy. But it wasn't only the sex appeal that made him choose the lingerie- it was the access to her it gave him. Practically all of her skin was available for him to cut or beat or shock. And when he was done with that, and he wanted her, it was easy for him to remove it and have his way with her.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Reid shouted, and her captor looked towards the camera.
"You're still trying to protect her?" he asked, surprised. "Why is she so valuable to you?"
"I, um, I..."
"Actually, princess, that's a good question, isn't it?" he asked, rounding back towards her. "What is your relationship with Dr. Reid?"
"We're just friends," she answered. Her captor sighed, and her heart immediately began to race. He held up the hotshot and her eyes went wide. "I swear!"
"I don't believe you." He touched the hotshot to her stomach and held it there. Pain blossomed from that spot as lightning danced across her skin. The pain skyrocketed as it spread from her stomach to consume her entire body. She couldn't hold back her scream, but even that didn't deter her captor. He just held the hotshot there until tears were streaming down her face as she screamed. Finally, he pulled away, and she could do nothing but lie there, crying as she tried to catch her breath.
"Please..." she softly whispered between breaths.
"You two spent every Saturday together. You two try everything to protect each other. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't sound that the behavior of 'just friends'," he responded, using air quotes around the last bit.
"She's telling the truth. We're just friends," Reid said, defending her.
"Just because they hang out weekly and protect each other doesn't mean they can't be. If that's what you think, then you must not have very good friends." And that would be Akilah. Steady, dependable Akilah. Ciara had wondered when she'd speak up. Everyone else on the team went around putting in their agreements. Prentiss even mentioned the way Morgan and Garcia acted around each other while still remaining friends. She didn't use their names, of course, but everyone other than her captor and his partner knew exactly who she was talking about.
"I still don't believe it," her captor said with a shrug. "You know what I think your relationship is? I think it's something like... Ciara and Dr. Reid, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." With every letter, he touched the hotshot to her stomach, causing her to cry out with the pain by the fourth letter. She gasped slightly when he stopped, but thankfully, this time, it was much easier to catch her breath. "Am I wrong?" Ciara nodded. He wouldn't like being told he was wrong, but he hated being lied to more. So, even if he didn't believe her, it was one of her rules to always tell him the truth.
"Yes. Ye are."
"Oh, of course, my bad. What was I thinking?" he said sarcastically. "Perhaps it's more along the lines of... Ciara and Dr. Reid, lying 'neath a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-" He paused for just a moment to watch Ciara's eyes go wide with trepidation. "-G." With that last letter, he touched her with the hotshot, and she cried out. She was reaching her limit.
"Stop!" she cried out. "Please... stop. You've got it wrong. We're not..." But she couldn't finish the statement. Not because it was a lie. No, rather, because the thought of it was bringing a blush to her cheeks, and she didn't want him to think that meant she was lying.
"We're not... we've never..." It seemed Reid was much in the same position she was. If she could see him, his cheeks would probably be as red as hers.
"That's right," her captor said, coming to kneel beside her, putting his fingers under her chin, making her look at him. And though she hated it, she looked him in the eye, because she knew that was what he wanted. "He's not fucking you. And you know why, princess? Because I'm fucking you."
"No, ye're not." Ciara knew it wouldn't do to defy him, but that was one statement she wouldn't let slide.
"Then what did I do to you yesterday after I broke your arm?"
"Ye're not fecking me. Ye're raping me. I've never once told ye yes. I've never given consent."
"Don't act like you don't want it, you little slut."
"I've never wanted it!"
"If you've never wanted it, then how is it I've made you climax?" With that, all of the fight left Ciara, and she looked at him sadly. He smiled, knowing he had her backed into a corner. No matter what she said, it didn't look good for her. And the truth was, she'd asked herself that same question. How had he brought her to climax? Didn't she have to want it for such a thing to happen? But even then, she hadn't liked it. She had heard that an orgasm was supposed to be a pleasurable thing, but every time she'd had one, it just hurt. Every one she'd had had been incredibly painful and left her feeling confused and disgusted with herself.
"Ye... Ye hijacked me. I don't know how you did it. But ye hijacked my body and made it do things I didn't want it to do!" she cried, new tears forming in her eyes. Yes, that had to be it. That was the only explanation. After all, the alternative was unthinkable.
"Or maybe you're just beginning to like it," he said, putting his finger over her lips. No. No. Before she could even think of stopping herself, she opened her mouth and clamped down hard on his finger. She felt blood burst in her mouth as he yanked his finger back with a cry. Well, that was a sound she hadn't heard before. She'd caught him off guard. Good. It was about time she surprised him.
"Did she bite you?" the partner asked with a laugh, and her captor glared at her. She glared right back, refusing to break eye contact as she spit the blood out of her mouth. His nostrils flared in anger as he picked up the hotshot and before she could react, he roughly pushed it onto her broken arm, making it throb upon impact. Just as she began to scream from the pain, he pulled it away, before roughly shoving it back against her skin. She screamed and for the millionth time since she'd been taken there, tears ran down her face.
"Do you want it to stop?" her captor asked, and unable to speak, she simply nodded, before closing her eyes as he ripped another scream from her. Finally, he pulled away, and she looked over at him. "Then beg."
"Plea-" But before she could get the entire word out, he began to laugh, and she immediately tried to figure out what she could have possibly done wrong.
"Oh, no, no. Don't beg me," he said, and her brows furrowed in confusion. If he didn't want her to beg him, then what did he want? "Beg him."
"What?" she asked, and he smiled evilly, before giving her a quick shock.
"Beg your precious Dr. Reid," he said, before leaning down to whisper in her ear so that his next words could only be heard by her. "Beg him to make it stop. Beg him to save you." He smirked, before taking the hotshot and pressing it against her chest, right above her heart. As pain racked her body, it took everything she had not to scream out. She didn't want to. She didn't want to beg Reid- she knew what that would do to him. She knew how much it would hurt to hear her screaming for him and be unable to do anything. She didn't want to hurt him.
But she also knew that her captor knew how to get his way and that he was, yet again, going to make her do something she didn't want to do.
When she felt his name starting to form on her lips, she bit her tongue as hard as she could. The pain of that acted as a reset, and for the second time in five minutes, she had blood in her mouth. At least this time it was her own. He sighed and brought the hotshot back, fiddling with something on the stick. He touched it again to her heart, and she gasped as she realized what he'd been doing. He'd increased the current, and therefore, her pain. And finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"REID!" she screamed, and she heard him crying out her name. But her captor didn't pull back. He hadn't gotten what he wanted yet. He had told her what to say, and she hadn't said it yet. Her ears rang as tears and blood mixed on her cheeks and pain took over her entire system. And the only way to get it to stop was to just do what he wanted.
"That's right. Scream for him," he whispered in her ear. She just barely heard him over the ringing, and without pulling back, he increased the current again.
"Reid, please! Make it stop! Please, help me! Reid, save me!" she cried, and finally, he pulled away. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her throat, skin burning. There'd be a scar there later. Distantly, she heard someone crying, but it didn't sound like her. Was that... was that Reid crying? Was that because of her? "Please, make it... make it stop. Reid, ye have to find me."
"We will, Ciara. I promise you, we will," Reid responded, and Ciara could hear the tears in his voice. So it had been him. She had done that to him. How could she do such a thing? Her skin began to crawl as guilt flooded her system. Well, the least she could do after making him cry was try to help him out.
"Reid, listen, all ye have to do is find the-!" Before she could finish her statement, he pressed the hotshot back into her skin, cutting off her words. He pulled back for just a few seconds, and she heard the click of a button, before he shoved it back into her stomach. It only took a second for her to realize, to her horror, that the click had been him turning the current all the way up. It still wasn't at the point of a taser, though she wished it was. At least a taser would knock her out and save her from the pain she was now going through.
"Huh? What was that?" he asked sarcastically, pushing the hotshot harder into her stomach. She tried to speak, she tried to scream, she tried to do anything- but she couldn't get enough breath to do so. The pain was excruciating. She had to get away. She pulled on her restraints until her wrists and ankles were raw. She writhed around on the table, thrashing every which way, the splint on her arm repeatedly hitting the table, her broken arm throbbing with each impact. Finally, though, she managed to get enough breath to say a single word.
"PLEASE!" she screamed, and finally, he pulled away. And she lay there on the table, gasping, sobbing, convulsing.
"It's hard to give out hints when you can't breathe, isn't it?" he goaded her, and she looked over at him, still gasping. He groaned a little at the sight of her, and she looked down, her insides twisting when she saw how hard he was. Was it weird to look? Yes. But she had to. It was how she survived. She had to know how much time she had before he decided to violate her. And the answer was none at all. "But we both know there's something else that leaves you breathless. Something I've had questions about."
"What?" she asked, not understanding what he was talking about. But then he gently brushed his fingers over that one spot on her chest, and her heart skipped a beat. No. Not that spot.
"Tell me... what exactly happened here?" he requested, and she shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. Even after all those years, that memory was still far too painful. "Even when I first met you, you weren't good at answering questions. But I've learned by now how to make you answer." He raised his fist and slammed it onto that spot. Stars danced behind her eyes as pain racked her body and the air escaped from her lungs. "Are you ready to answer now?"
"Okay," she breathed. "Okay. When... When I was..." She took a deep breath, and finally, her breathing returned to normal, and she started again. "When I was nine, I was... I was attacked. My rib and several other bones were broken." She took another deep breath, trying to keep the tears in check. She wasn't going to cry, not when the partner was looking down at her with glee. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
"Continue," her captor instructed, and she nodded.
"Before my rib could heal, I was attacked again. That time they broke two other ribs and knocked the first rib out of place. And that was how it healed. Ever since then, it's jutted out at a weird angle and has been super sensitive," she answered, and he nodded. She pushed the memory down. She'd told her story. She didn't want to deal with the flashback, too.
"Ciara?"
"Yes, Reid?"
"Who the fuck did that to you?!" he asked harshly. For a second, she shrunk back, but then she realized. His anger wasn't directed at her. It was directed at whoever had attacked her and knocked her rib out of place. She opened her mouth to answer, but a hand covered her mouth before she could.
"Doesn't matter," her captor said, before taking his hand away. He picked up his hotshot again, bringing the current to a lower level. "I wonder. If I was to shock you there, would it hurt worse? What do you think?" She sucked in a breath, but that was all the time she had before he placed the hotshot onto that spot. And holy hell, was it worse. She was immediately screaming as a pain worse than anything she'd felt that day took over her body. She only had to feel it for a few seconds, though, before he threw the hotshot away.
She should have known it was because he was about to do something even worse to her.
He deftly released her from her restraints, but before she could move, he picked her up and threw her to the floor. And that was when she realized what was about to happen. She instinctually crossed her legs, even though she knew it wouldn't do any good. When he wanted her, he was going to have her. It didn't matter what she did. He climbed on top of her, before looking back towards his partner.
"Silence the feed," he said, and in a second, his partner nodded, saying both the video and audio were turned off.
"But, ye-" She sucked in a breath as he forced her legs apart with his knees, tears already building in her eyes.
I don't want it. I don't want it. I don't want it I don't want it I don't want it please God I don't want it-
"I guess I got used to having you all to myself these past few months," he said, before laughing. "So I decided that when I make you mine, I don't want anyone else watching or listening."
"But what about-?"
"He's a very reluctant exception," he said, knowing she was asking about his partner. But that was part of the deal. He'd help her captor, and in return, he got to see her suffer. Ciara opened her mouth to ask another question, but she quickly snapped it shut when he yanked her panties off. She dropped her head onto the ground, closing her eyes, trying to prepare herself. But there was no preparing for what was about to happen.
"Please, I'm begging ye. Please don't. I don't want-" He cut her off with a smack. Just as she recovered from the slap, she heard the scratch of a zipper, and she shut her eyes tighter. This was happening. And it was happening now.
"I don't care what you want. Don't you get it by now? You're mine. I own you," he hissed in her ear. She whimpered as she felt him pressing against her. "You're. Fucking. Mine."
And as he forced himself inside of her, she sent up a prayer to anybody that would listen.
Hey, what's this? Me getting a chapter out in a timely manner? Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I just got out of the hospital (don't worry, I'm fine) and I had a little time before I returned to work. And what did I do with it? I wrote, of course. Anyway. So, yeah. That was a chapter. But, hey, we did learn some new information. We finally have an explanation for the spot on Ciara's chest. But we also have some heartbreak. So, now that you have Part 2, I'mma dip for a little bit... BYE!
"It was a shock. You go from one day being okay to your life being upside down." -Amber Margarejo