Deliverance for Amelia (2 page)

Chapter Two: Amelia

Two Weeks Later

“
D
ADDY, I’LL BE FINE
.
”
I murmur as I put the last layer of red nail polish on my pinky toe.

“I worry, sweetheart. That’s all.” He responds warily.

I smile as we say our goodbyes. My poor father, between the financial difficulties and the pesky journalist who’s mysteriously vanished, he’s been so stressed. Luckily, I was granted a scholarship to my first choice college, Berklee College of Music, after rigorously practicing for the audition that landed me here.

I maintained a high GPA in high school and I’m currently a first year in college, just arrived yesterday in fact. I came from a wealthy background and am currently struggling to find myself outside of the mansions, country clubs and flashy cars. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, so it was important to me that I
earned
this scholarship; that I worked to maintain high grades.

So, in turn - my nose remained in textbooks; my childhood merely an appearance. Everything had to be perfect, otherwise I would be on the news - my mother had warned - and we simply couldn’t have that. Piano lessons, tutors and charity events ruled my life. But now, I’m finally free, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.

I sigh as my phone buzzes once more. It’s Meg, I met her yesterday. She’s in her second year and is a coveted violinist.

“Hey, so you’re still down for the party?” She asks excitedly.

I bite my lip, my eyes travelling to the large bay window in my living room. My dad still gives me a hefty allowance despite our financial woes, so locating a nice apartment in Boston wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. It’s a nice, roomy one bedroom. The walls are a stark white and unopened boxes litter the cherry wood floors. My dad is sending the rest of my furniture and it should arrive in the next day or two. The streets are busy and people walk briskly with their different colored umbrellas as the rain pours from the sky. This is a day where I would prefer to stay in, but I don’t feel like unpacking and my apartment is depressing without any furniture other than my bed.

“Yeah, I’m down.” I respond.

She squeals into the phone and I cringe as I remove it from my ear. Once she calms down she replies, “Awesome, pick you up at eight!”

I look over myself in the full-length mirror attached to the door. I’m wearing a loose fitting tank that shows a bit of cleavage and skinny jeans along with a pair of black stilettos. My straight, brown hair is pulled over my shoulder, my eyes are smoky and my lips stained red. This is my first college party - my first party ever, really. My emotions are a bundle of nervousness and excitement.

I hear a honk outside and grab my purse and keys before heading out.

Meg is leaning against her silver Audi, the rain has calmed and for this, I am thankful.

“Wow! You look hot, Amelia!” She says as she walks around the car to get in.

“Thanks.” I respond sheepishly as I get into the car. She’s wearing a cute, flowing dress and flats. I suddenly feel like I possibly dressed a bit too sexy.

“You look really nice,” I pause as I glance down at my outfit, “Did I dress too, uh…”

She scoffs, “Not at all, you’ll be the talk of the party!”

I sigh in relief as we continue on our way; uselessly bantering about boys, music and college life.

Once we arrive, I’m overwhelmed from all the people in attendance. I’m used to social events, but not like this. Red Solo cups are everywhere, rap music is booming and I’m feeling a lot better with my attire when I see all of the scantily clad women unapologetically grinding against guys.

I follow behind Meg as she navigates through the crowd effortlessly. The fellow partygoers already look pretty inebriated and I’m antsy to catch up. I’ve never had a drop of alcohol in my life, which isn’t surprising seeing as I was completely sheltered my entire life, plus I’m only eighteen going on nineteen.

We stop at a large keg placed randomly in the living room and Meg pours us both a drink.

I grimace as the beer hits my tongue - it is horrible.

“Not a beer girl, huh?” Meg asks, cocking her head to the side, “How about some liquor, it is quicker as they say.”

I nod and she mixes a drink with vodka and orange juice before turning to me, “It’s a screwdriver, you’ll like it.”

She’s right - I do like it, and after several “screwdrivers” I’m seeing double. A handsome blonde guy comes up to Meg and me and wraps an arm around her.

“Amelia, this is my boyfriend Jackson,” She pauses as another guy, this time a brunette with a dimple in his chin comes to join us, “and this is Brent. He plays piano also.”

“Hi.” He says, a smile covering his face.

“Hi.” I whisper, self-conscious of my drunken slur.

Brent and I talk as Meg and Jackson mingle with others. Another screwdriver down and Brent takes full advantage, his hands becoming braver as they move from my lower back to the curve of my ass. Of course, at this point I’m losing my inhibitions and fail to stop him. I’m swaying from side to side and my vision is the equivalent of a kaleidoscope.

“Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.” He whispers into my ear, and begins escorting me up the stairs and into a bedroom. I slump down on the unmade bed and he quickly joins me, his hands once again going discovering.

“No.” I murmur, struggling with the sickening feeling overcoming me. I may be drunk, but I know where this is going.

“It’s alright.” He says as he nips at my neck.

My head rolls to the side as I whisper “No.” once more.

He pushes me onto my back and I’m now shaking my head emphatically as he gropes me.

He suddenly stops as the door flies open and before I know it, he is yanked from me and thrown across the room.

A voice I’m not familiar with booms, reverberating throughout the room, “Get out!”

I see Brent clumsily escape the confines of the room, and standing above me is a tall, muscular man. I can barely make out his facial features due to my spinning vision, but I can see that he’s huge.

“You need to go to sleep, Amelia.” He says sternly, and I don’t think twice as my eyes fall shut, giving into the drunken slumber that’s calling me.

Chapter Three: Gabe

I
EFFORTLESSLY TOSS HER SMALL
body over my shoulder and walk out of the musky room that smells of sweat and old pizza – the cliché bachelor pad. Amelia drapes over my shoulder lifelessly as I exit the room.

I make my way through the cesspool of drunks and right before I reach the front door, a girl steps in front of me. She has short, brown hair and is wearing a dress.

“Whoa, where are you taking her?” She demands, holding her hands up as if she could block me. She’s swaying from side to side and her eyes are bloodshot, she’s extremely drunk so this shouldn’t be too hard.

“I’m her boyfriend.” I say sternly, “And it wouldn’t go well for any of you if I call the police. She’s only eighteen and a guy almost raped her!”

Her hands drop to her sides as she frantically bites her lip, “She has a… oh my god, I’m a terrible friend. Tell her that I’m so sorry. I’m her friend Meg.”

I nod as she moves out of my way and I walk briskly to my car before planting her in the passenger seat. Her head falls to the side as I buckle her in. Safety first. I take a moment to remove a strand of her hair from her cheek and admire her. She’s absolutely beautiful. Her long eyelashes fall over her smooth cheeks. Her nose is a perfect little ski slope, and her lips are plump – shaped like a heart.

It’s unfortunate that her father couldn’t pay up. I won’t kill her. No, not yet. I will use her as ransom until I receive the money that I’m owed, and then I will decide whether or not I will free her. In the meantime, I’m excited to have my very own toy. It’s not that I don’t catch the attention of plenty of beautiful women; my job keeps me wealthy and my looks do charm, but if they were to see the monster that I am, they would run screaming. Amelia will see me for who I am, though. I’m not in the business of raping women. Call me narcissistic, but I am more than capable of getting what I want. Even if little Amelia doesn’t know it yet.

I drive the hour that it takes for me to get to my home, which is nestled away in the mountains. There are no neighbors for miles, which was important in order for me to execute my job properly. My home certainly isn’t modest by any stretch. It’s huge and surrounded by windows - looking serene from the outside and the interior looking pristine and modern. I don’t do dirty, and when I’m not mutilating people, I’m going over my house with a fine toothed comb or working out in my lavish gym to obtain my strength.

I wrap one arm around her back and tuck the other under her legs as I lift her. Her head rests against my chest as her stilettos click together with each step that I take. I enter the house and support her weight with one arm as I silence the alarm system. I make my way to the master bedroom, laying her down on the black, satin comforter. I walk swiftly to my closet to retrieve the chain that will confine her to this beautiful prison. After I remove her shoes, I slowly run a finger over the curve of her foot, causing her to stir.

I have a drawer full of clothes for her already. I know her size, her favorite color – white. I know everything about her, all from watching from afar. Watching her shop, and watching her play piano beautifully. Thankfully, my grand piano will come to some good use. I play occasionally, but watching her naked form play will be a beautiful sight. Just the thought makes my cock twitch.

I run my hands up her legs to her petite waist, then over the curve of her ample breasts and continuing on to her milky white throat. She squirms and arches her back, her breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath that she takes.

I sigh as I remove my hands and adjust my needy cock. I will have her, soon. It’s just a matter of time.

Chapter Four: Amelia

M
Y HEAD IS POUNDING. I don’t want to open my eyes, even as the sun calls to me. I drank way to much last night, and I’m seriously regretting it. I raise my arms over my head and stretch my body, feeling something foreign and heavy wrapped around my ankle.

“Good morning.” A deep voice says, startling me from my usual “wake up” routine.

My eyes dart open searching for the source.

It’s a man. A
gorgeous
man. I can see the shade of his forest green eyes from where I am on the bed and his dark blonde hair is stylishly unkempt. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up at the elbows and blue jeans. His muscles are evident, even the fabric of the starched material of the shirt cannot hide them. He’s like a Greek god. His jaw is strong and well defined, his nose perfectly placed above beautifully curved lips. I’ve never met a man that looks like him. Not once. It should be a sin.

However, there is something sinister hiding under that beauty. I can’t put my finger on it – but danger emanates from him, so strong that the air in the room crackles with the energy that he puts off.

My eyes linger on him momentarily before travelling to my surroundings. The room has white walls and there is a single abstract painting above the black dresser across from the matching four-post bed that I’m currently occupying. A flat screen TV is mounted in the corner of the room and there is a large white bearskin rug draped over the shiny black tile. The modern room is sparse, other than a bookshelf stocked with literature.

My eyes fall to the weight on my ankle and I gasp when I realize that I’m chained to the handsome stranger’s bed.

My eyes dart to his, “Who-who are you?”

He smiles as he approaches me, “My name is Gabriel – Gabe for short - but you will refer to me as Master.”

The bed dips when he sits beside me and I quickly gather my knees to my chest, “What am I doing here?”

“All in due time, sweet Amelia. Right now I would like for you to bathe and change into the clothes that I have laid out for you. Then we will go have brunch.”

He stands and reaches towards my ankle. My breath hitches as I attempt to scramble to the headboard like a frightened animal before he grasps my ankle and pulls me towards him, my back hitting the mattress. He places his hands on each side of my head as his large form leans over mine.

His face is about an inch from mine as his breath spreads across my lips, “You will not run from your Master. If I choose to touch you,” He pauses as he runs a large hand down my side, causing my body to tremble profusely, “then I will.”
I part my lips – I want to scream, but I’m too afraid to. I don’t want to piss this psycho off. My brain springs forward into survival mode. I’m a logical person, currently I’m up against a huge guy who could very well kill me. I have to be smart.

“Okay.” I manage to squeak out through trembling lips, as I nod my head haltingly, “Okay.”

“Yes, Master.” He growls, correcting me.

“Y-yes Master.” I whimper.

He smiles deviously and stands straight before smoothing his shirt. He retrieves a key from his pocket and unlocks the restraint.

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl behind me.”

I nod and he gives me a look full of warning.

“Yes, Master.” I whisper as I sink to the floor onto my shaky limbs. I crawl behind him, the spaces between the tiles biting into my knees.

Once in the bathroom, my nose fills with the aroma of sweet vanilla.

“Stand.” He orders, and I oblige. In front of me sits a large, white bear claw bathtub with steam rising from it. White rose petals float around accompanying the sheen from the oils he had put into the water. The white walls and black tile match the adjoining bedroom. There is a vanity and shower, along with the toilet. The tub is in the center of the room with a large painting behind it, it is immaculate. I can’t help but wonder if he has a maid who could possibly help me.

“Undress.” He says from behind me. I shake my head as I cross my arms over my chest, turning to face him.

He walks towards me and his breath once again invades my space as he towers over me, my body merely becoming a part of the shadow that his large frame casts.

“Amelia, undress. Now.” He growls, filling my entire body with more trepidation than I ever thought possible.

A sob escapes me as I slowly begin removing my tank and jeans. I’m left in my black strapless bra and matching panties. I hear him sigh as I look down at my feet. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra, allowing it to fall onto the plush white rug in front of the bathtub.

I whimper as he hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties and begins lowering them. My breath hitches as the cold air hits my most intimate parts. The tears fall uncontrollably as he helps me step out of my last piece of clothing. He is stealing the first sight of my body, taking more than I’ve ever offered any man. I feel my knees give way and he catches my fall, lifting me up and lowering me into the warmth of the water.

I gasp when I see my favorite body wash, conditioner and other toiletries lined up on the shelf beside the tub.

“You know,” He says, pausing as he pours water over my hair, “your time here will go a lot easier if you behave. While you’re here, you belong to me. You are mine.”