Eyebrows wrinkled together slightly as she felt his fingers tug against her entrance, making her folds spread just enough to be noticeable. He was teasing her, playing with her body and they both knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him. She wasn’t strong compared to women, let alone the muscled monster that sat before her. Of course, she wouldn’t let him get away with anything easily, a fight would be given and she would at least try to take a piece of him with her. If she were to go down, he would go with her.<br/><br/>Eyes flicked back to him, noting the amusement that flooded his gase as he watched her. The fact he was enjoying this, taking thrill in her discomfort and capture only proved to make the situation worse. It wasn’t like he felt remorseful for what he had done with her, that he had gone too far and didn’t know how to get out of it. He was taking pleasure in it, he wanted to hurt her, wanted her to stay in that cellar and be his toy when he got bored with whoever lived above. Whether that was his mother or not, she couldn’t say, though if Criminal Minds taught her anything, it was most likely his mother. His type of problems always stemmed from mommy issues. His touch to his collar drew her eyes to his neck, taking in the fair skin beneath it. Her shoulder shifted uncomfortably, feeling his gaze lingering over her half naked body. Her knees pressed together, hiding her virtue without drawing attention to it.<br/><br/>As he leaned closer she leaned away, keeping a healthy distance between their two faces. She watched him pull his shirt off to reveal a rather attractive body. It wasn’t like his impeccably good looks had been lost on her and maybe before she saw him in a different light, one that she might have thought about naked, but that had changed the moment he stole her from her bed. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore, a mystery she may have wanted to solve if she had been available, he was her nightmare. The monster under her bed and she had no desire to solve him anymore. When the shirt was held out to her the tip of her tongue licked at her lips, eyes glancing from the shirt to his face when he spoke. Nostrils flared in irritation from his command, not liking the tone but knowing better to comment on trivial things.<br/><br/>He moved forward, looming over her and making her almost lay down, her hand pressing into the mattress to hold up her aching back. Her free hand snatched the article from him, not wanting him any closer to her than he had to be. She didn’t know why he had given it to her, though part of her presumed he wanted to show off his body. Asshole, cocky fucking asshole. Like she would swoon from the view of his chest and muscles. Silently she watched him leave, shirt still in hand. She watched his feet disappear up the stairs and the creaking door open and then close, only to finalize her situation with a heavy click of a lock. Still, that didn’t stop her from running up the stairs to try the door herself. The girl went back down the stairs, each creaking step filling the silent room. She stood at the base of the stairs, looking at her prison with his shirt still in hand. It was then she began to cry and threw the shirt across the room.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Teija had slept the night and morning away. She hadn’t even noticed that her husband had been gone for several days. He had given her treats to occupy her mind while he was gone and so time was nothing more than a blur. The house was little more than a slobby mess, the only house in the commune that was allowed to get grubby and disorganized. All the women were trained from their very first night that they kept the house clean, that they maintained order in the house and made things perfect for their master and husband. Teija never cared. It was just a house to her, one that served for comfort and leisure. She didn’t cook, clean and sometimes even had to be encouraged to bathe herself. They had no children, the alcohol and drugs she constantly bathed her liver and organs in made it hard for anything to survive more than a few months. Nameless children lay in their memories, no more emotionally attaching than a bad grape amongst the pure colorful ones.<br/><br/>Teija had taken advantage of the treats he had left her, which was evident in their living room. Bottles laid scattered across their coffee table, a few on the floor toppled over and what looked like a stain on the rug from a turned over rum bottle. The dark haired girl laid across the couch, one leg extended over the headrest, her bare foot dangling in the air. One arm was lolled above her head, hand over the armrest and the other crossed over her eyes, blocking that nagging sunlight that shone through the crack in the drawn curtains. The room smelled or booze and body odor though there was no question where the latter smell came from. She was still clad in the clothes he left her in several days ago, a black tank top that clung to her braless breasts, nipples poking into the fabric. Loose fitting sweat pants that looked too big to belong to her hung off her hips, the pants familiar from his closet. The only clean article of clothing was her panties, it was the one thing she usually changed, disliking the smell of old sweat clad panties. Her hair was greasy from going unbathed though it was pulled back into a bun atop of her head.<br/><br/>Hearing the voice of her husband she lifted her arm and lolled her head to the side. It pounded like someone had thrown it against the wall, the several day drunken stupor now coming to an end. She greeted him with a grunt, eyes traveling along his shirtless body. “I see you lost a shirt.” The girl sat up with a grunt, using her fingers to pull her body up into a sitting position as if it was the hardest task in the world. Her feet fell silently to the floor with her legs spreading, elbows resting on her knees. “My head is killing me.” Her head fell forward into the clinging grasp of her fingers that pried through her greasy hair. Teija dropped her hands from her head and looked at him, back hunched over as her weight rested into her knees and elbows. She looked at him with heavy eyes and a drained expression, watching his buttons pluck open from his fingers. “Ya.” Teija stood up and went over to him, her eyes watching him almost like a predator, if that predator was hung over. Dark make up had stained her eyes, giving a more raccoon look. She wandered over, none to quickly or eagerly. Her arms draped over his shoulders, her hips pressing lightly to his pelvis as she used his own body weight to hold hers steady. “Everything is gone.” She murmured, her breath that of alcohol and lack of dental brushing since he had been gone.<br/><br/>The amount of alcohol that had been emptied in that room had been more than he had given her. He had left her a few bottles, not the many that laid empty or spilled on the floor. Teija had found his stash, where he hid the treats from her. She had more than enough time to look for it and in the drunken desire for more she had found it. The house was turned over, if he had a chance to look through their rooms. The box that he had hidden away was open beside the couch, half hidden under it as if she attempted to hide it and forgot half way through. The lock was broken open and if he took a closer look at the room he would notice two pieces of it on the floor. She had pried that fucker open and won her prize. One side of her lips tugged into a cocky grin, as if she had outsmarted him and won. “I will suck your cock though, because everything is gone.” No one would sell alcohol or any other kind of treat she desired to a woman, not in their commune and she wasn’t allowed to leave to the cities like he was. He was her dealer, her treat bearer and husband. She would provide sexual gratification in return for treats.