"What's your name?”For days, that question was repeated. For days, I doubted my own identity. Days, not minutes or hours. Days when I was kidnapped by a bitter and cruel woman, days when my life became part of a show of horrors, and I was thrown into a moat full of men with a multitude of evils ready to be put into practice.The day it all started, I was told that it would not go beyond a basic teaching to a subject of which I was being idle. I was told that I would be taught to be a submissive. That I would learn to respect a man and see him as the center of my world.That I would understand that it was nothing more than a dog at the feet of a man. They told me that I would lose everything, to become obedient. And the worst part is that I didn't consent to any of that. I didn't want to be part of the misrepresented world they created, but I was forced. And none of this had anything related to BDSM.Soon I, who some time ago did not even accept to nurture some loving feeling for a ma
"How are you feeling, Fred?”I must have launched my worst or most desolate look in the direction of my psychiatrist, because his reaction was too immediate for my taste. I must have made the landscape face that was becoming my favorite mask in the last few days. I must have shown everything but the truth about the way I felt.Because I'd rather not feel it. I would rather hide and act like everyone else would like Friederich Hanson to act. That I didn't care about the life of another missing person. That I did not lose nights of sleep and days in a catatonic state, always waiting for news. But that Friederich Hanson was dead. He died the day Rebecca Smith disappeared."Well," I spoke as a feigned and very usual answer. "I think we are progressing in the investigations.”I didn't even know who I really wanted to deceive with that story of progress. It was obvious that there was no progress. Rebecca, the woman I fell in love with, had been missing for more days than I would like to tel
I knew it was all my fault, but the certainty only came on the day Rebecca's mother received the news. In fact, when she saw, watching the news, that her daughter was missing. I was still in hospital. I was still debilitated, struggling to leave the devices and look for it. But Rebecca's mother went to the hospital. And she visited me.Sophie Smith, the woman that Rebecca admired so much for having survived a toxic relationship, was desolate, broken, lost. Even inside a hospital, even surrounded by my family and medical staff, she screamed and blamed me. She cried and pointed her finger at me, while saying:"You promised, Fred! You promised you would take care of my daughter, and you took her away from me!”After that day, my dreams were invaded by Sophie's voice, by the image of what I thought Rebecca would be already dead in some abandoned grave. And then, sleeping or taming myself with medicines, became everything but a moment of rest. And I couldn't even deny it. Because I knew it
As I had no idea about the time, I couldn't tell if since my last date with those men a whole day had passed or a few moments. I knew, however, that something was more than wrong even before a distant door opened and lights were lit.For a long time, I blinked, trying to get used to the excessive light. I was getting used to the dark, especially considering that I spent most of the time surrounded by it. However, on that day, not only a light was lit above my head, but several.My first instinct was to look up, trying to find windows, or any possible passage through the roof. There was nothing, of course. We were in what seemed to me a huge shed, whose stairs and pilasters were made of old iron. I had never paid attention to the sound that men made when going down the steps, or they were careful that I didn't listen, because that day, the noise was too loud for me not to look.Everyone wore ski mask, caps to hide their faces, and black clothes. The fact that they took the trouble to c
I let a singing smile be sketched by my lips. I didn't make any positive gestures, but I kept quiet, watching him. The man frowned lightly, then walked away. At least the tactic of facing the kidnapper to the point that he thought that I would never allow myself to forget his features still worked. I held on not to ask why he didn't cover his face like the others.Instead, I waited until he sat down, started cutting his chicken again and faced the food again. The smell was driving me crazy. I had the impression that anyone would see me as an addict in the face of what had left him in abstinence. I could very well have eaten that wooden table, if a paint of salt and lemon was placed on it.However, something was wrong. The fact that the man ate the chicken did not mean that all the rest of the food was not poisoned. I doubted that they could have all that work to do with me, they could very well do it in the traditional way. On second thought, it wasn't even necessary to put poison in
"If you didn't want me to assault your ex-girlfriend, why the hell did you bring me here? "Questioned Madeleine, leaning back in the car seat."Because I would like a female company to confront her, and not physical strength," I explained for the thousandth time. I threw a look out, trying to see the dark, and watching an unknown couple go out through the doors of the establishment next door. "Besides, I don't want you to cause even more trouble for us, Maddie.”Madeleine laughed mockingly."Oh, dear brother, problems are what we have the most lately. And you need to stop this habit of acting diplomatically. If this crazy woman is with Becca, as you suggested to drag me here, then we will have to assault her so that she speaks. So, I do that, and it's good for you to stay away so you don't get arrested.”I sighed. Through the rearview mirror, Tyler gave me a fun look. Of course, for him, there was a tone of humor in that whole scene. It was not he who had almost had a heart attack whe
"I have no idea," she said, smiling nervously. Joana's eyes were wide, and her hair, stuck in an elastic band, was already beginning to be untied by her restless and anxious hands. "Fred, I have no idea who Rebecca is and where she may be from.I snorted, asking the universe for strength not to lose my reason. Madeleine mocked with a loud laugh, taking a step forward. I stopped her by putting a hand in front, but she also trembled, or maybe it was me. The situation was stressful. Rebecca was somewhere. She was alive, suffering. Or she was dead, and needed something worthy to be remembered.Joana knew everything. It was visible. The way she trembled, how she tried to lie looking into my eyes, reminded me of all the months we spent together. She was a girlfriend, not a submissive. Of course, he heard about my tastes and tried to adapt, but he didn't succeed. She was jealous of my relationship with Rebecca, and somehow still mysterious, managed to be in the same place as Rebecca, just to
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”I got up in a jump, not knowing where I was. I had slept, apparently, for a whole night (or day). I was still in that place without windows and with a single iron door and, in front of me, sitting in a lonely wooden chair, was my tormentor; the man with the scar on his face.At the moment, he wasn't smiling. It was very clear that seeing me in a comfortable situation was not exactly the kind of fun he was looking for. Or maybe he stayed a long time in that same position, waiting for the moment when I would move and give signs that I was still breathing. Maybe he was hoping I wasn't.“What’s going on? "I asked with suspicion, diverting my eyes from him to the soft furniture below me. I was shocked to realize it was a bed."I brought gifts," he said, shrugging.I must have fallen asleep after eating, and that episode had been so unprecedented and exciting that I had exhausted my strength that was no longer that big. I didn't find the big table with the b