The knife in his hand seemed to have barely reached the ground when he brought his hand sharply across her face. The sudden motion was swift, faster than the eye could track. Clara felt the sting instantly, the pain so intense that it took her breath away. Her head was moving to the side, naturally, but the movement was halted by the tight grip her applied to her jaw. The man inclined her chin, forcing her to stare up at him. Tears had already gathered in her eyes, making them glassy. Still, even though her cheek was hot and painful—growing red with each passing second—she refused to let them fall. As she stared up at him her defiant gaze met his disappointed one. His expression was unsettling. She anticipated a fiery rage, an anger so evident that one could see it in his body language and posture. There was nothing of the sort. He was calm, unnaturally cool in a way that made her shudder to think what he was capable of when he was truly mad. Though he was telling her that her father had missed a major component of her ransom, he didn’t appear bothered. He was oddly collected and it frightened her.<br/><br/>Her captors before were emotional. They argued among one another, challenged each other openly to reveal their distaste for one decision or another. They were easy to please, wanting nothing more than financial compensation for the wrong they believed her father should set right. In the end they were too disorganized to outrun the law. Though they managed to take her, they couldn’t keep her for very long. This was different. As the well-dressed man held a letter before her eyes, she knew that he was far more prepared than her last captors. He forced her down to her knees, applying a powerful pressure that she couldn’t fight against if she tried. Clara dropped and as soon as her plump cheeks were resting against her heels her mouth way pried open. His fingers digging into her sensitive cheek, tender from where he struck her, made her attempt to pull away from him. His hold was too tight to escape, and soon her own panties were stuffed into her mouth. Despite it warning, she worked her tongue against the material that seemed to expand as it dampened. She was so worked up that she could hardly breathe.<br/><br/>She hung her head and her long, fair hair fell to the side, allowing him to capture the vulnerable yet provocative profile of her body. Her breast was exposed as was the curve of her ass. Hearing the snap of the camera was a horrifying sound, and it was amazing how quickly the shame and humiliation set it. It was like a wet blanket over her, heavy and cold, making her want to shrink. Clara closed her eyes, trying to combat the intense emotions that welled within her. She continued to work her tongue, pushing the fabric of her panties out of her mouth as he informed her she could. Turning her head to the side, she let them fall to the ground. She quickly turned her attention to the note, reading carefully the words that her father wrote. The whole time she was in denial. It stated that the financial compensation would be to him within the hour, but the blueprints were not for sale. Confused, she read the letter over again, trying to understand why he wouldn’t just give the information back for her return. Clara was reading it over again for a third time when the man arrived again. She was shaking her head softly, still attempting to make sense of it all.<br/><br/>“He’ll do it . . .” she said as if trying to convince herself. Surely her father had something to give to satisfy her captors. “He’ll do it or he’ll find me. He found me last time, he’ll find me again and you’ll be in jail just like the others.” Clara promised, her resolve strengthened by her own words whether they were true or not. “They don’t have tailored suits in prison, unfortunately.”