Erotimaniac

The sound of jingling keys and the tumbler lock emerged in the room – a

terrifying alarm. Wide-eyed, Emiko sat up on her blanket. She stared at the

door knob as she scooted closer to the corner. She hoped to see a police

officer in the basement – a knight in shining armor. At heart, she knew the

man of her nightmares was returning.

The door swung open.

Ethan shoved the keys into his pocket as he stood in the doorway. The

young man smiled, genuinely happy. He walked into the room, then he

squatted down in front of Emiko. He gently chuckled as she scooted closer

to the corner. She exhibited fear, but he misinterpreted it as shyness. He

liked her bashful personality.

The author reached forward and stroked her hair, shoving the strands

away from her brow. He moved down and caressed her cheek.

He said, "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. You see? I'm one of the

good guys. Everything–"

Emiko chomped at his fingers. Agile, Ethan pulled his hand away and

fell back. He narrowly dodged her attack. Although Emiko did not chase

him, he crawled to the other side of the room. He sat in the corner diagonal

from Emiko.

Ethan said, "You don't want to do that, Emiko. If you bite me, I'm going

to put a muzzle on your face. You act like a dog, you get treated like a dog.

Okay? I swear, I'll find a way to lock a muzzle onto your head so you never

try to bite me again. Besides, even if you bit my chest or my finger, even if

you ripped one of my fingers off, you would accomplish nothing. It

wouldn't kill me, it wouldn't set you free. It would only make me angry.

Don't risk it. I don't want to hurt you."

I don't want to hurt you – those words sent shivers down her spine. She

crawled back to the corner, retreating from the confrontation and accepting

a temporary defeat. Her captor was correct anyway – hurting him would not

save her. She would have to kill him if she really wanted to escape, but she

wasn't a killer.

Ethan said, "I was afraid to come down here. I brought you home last

night around nine. You woke up around midnight. At least, that's when I

first heard you scream. It's... It's now two in the afternoon. You missed

breakfast because I ignored you. I wanted to apologize for that."

"What were you doing?" Emiko asked, infuriated. "Huh? Were you

stalking more people?"

"No, I don't 'stalk' people. I'd never do something like that," Ethan

responded. As Emiko huffed and rolled her eyes, the captor said, "I was

trying to write a chapter for my new book, but I couldn't do it. The words

weren't coming to me. I've got a severe case of writer's block – and that

makes me angry. When I get angry, I hurt people. I hurt them very badly. I

don't want to hurt people because I am... inadequate. Believe me, I'm not a

bad person. I just do bad things sometimes..."

Emiko gazed at Ethan, baffled. His intentions were difficult to read, like

a book written in a foreign language. He appeared harmless, but he

obviously caused harm to her. Yet again, she found herself simultaneously

despising and pitying her captor. However, she figured she could

manipulate him during his most vulnerable state.

As he stared at his hands, brooding, Ethan said, "I think we started off on

a bad foot last night, so I want to spend a nice, romantic day with you. I'm

sure that will help me clear my mind. It'll even help you clear yours.

Okay?"

Emiko took a deep breath and nodded. The opportunity landed on her

lap, like a present from a loved one – wrapped with a bow on top.

Playing along, Emiko stuttered, "Th–That sounds good. Can we... Can

we spend the day outside? I could use some fresh air."

"Outside?"

"Yes, outside. We don't have to go far. We can go to your backyard and...

and have a little picnic. You like picnics, don't you? I love them. Can we

have a picnic outside? Please?"

Ethan smiled and said, "I like picnics, too."

Emiko nervously giggled upon hearing the response. Her hope was

rekindled – for a moment. Unfortunately, the smile was quickly wiped from

her face.

Ethan said, "We can have a picnic in here – in your room. It'll be a

romantic indoor day."

Trying to fight the urge to cry, Emiko grimaced and said, "A picnic has

to be outside. Besides, it can't be romantic in a dungeon like this, right?"

"What?" Ethan asked as he glanced around the room. He rubbed the

nape of his neck and said, "I guess it's pretty dark in here. I thought it

looked okay, but I can fix it up if you want. Maybe I'll install a light, add

some decorations, make it pretty."

"I want to leave. I want to go outside. Please, take me outside. We need

to trust each other, right? That's how love works: trust."

"You're right, but you just haven't earned that privilege yet," Ethan said

as he staggered to his feet. He approached the door and said, "We'll start the

day with a bath, then we'll have dinner."

"A–A bath?"

"Yeah. I'll be right back," Ethan responded as he strolled out of the

room.

Emiko stared at the door, awed. A bath for him, she thought, or for me?

***

Ethan returned to the room, gripping the bail of a stainless steel bucket in

his right hand. The bucket was filled with boiling water – steam emanated

from the liquid. A loofah, a bottle of shampoo, and a bottle of body wash

floated in the water, too. He placed the bucket on the floor and knelt down

in front of Emiko.

He said, "Take your clothes off and crawl into the shower."

"N–No..."

"Don't make this difficult, sweetie. If you cooperate, I'll let you bathe

yourself. If you don't... Well, I'll have to bathe you. I don't want to put my

hands on you until you're comfortable, but I won't have you stinking up the

place. Okay? Get undressed and slide into the shower. Now."

Teary-eyed, Emiko closed her eyes and shook her head. She refused to

take a shower in front of Ethan, standing her ground in spite of the dangers.

Ethan said, "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."

Emiko panted upon hearing Ethan's warning. She couldn't keep her

facade afloat, she couldn't masquerade herself as a resilient woman. She

held her hands to her face as she grimaced and sobbed. Her sorrow echoed

through the home, but it did not change her captor's course of action. Trying

to comfort herself, the same phrase echoed through Emiko's head: he's seen

it before, he's seen it before, he's seen it before. She slowly lowered the

strap of her nightgown. The garment fell, revealing her breasts.

Ethan's eyes widened as he leered at her bare chest. He licked his lips as

he stared at her light pink nipples. He imagined himself sucking on her teat

like a newborn baby. He dropped his hands over his crotch, hopelessly

trying to hide his erection.

Emiko couldn't keep her composure. She stopped disrobing and crossed

her arms, covering her chest. She knew he already saw her naked, but it was

different while she was conscious.

Tears trickling from her eyes, Emiko stuttered, "I–I can't do it..."

"Just take it off, Emiko. It's normal."

"This isn't normal. Please, just let me go."

Frustrated, Ethan lunged forward and pulled on her nightgown. Emiko

cried and flailed her limbs, trying to fight off her attacker while covering

her breasts and crotch. The other strap ripped, then the garment slipped

across her figure. A loud shredding sound emerged as the rest of the

nightgown ripped down the middle.

Ethan rolled the garment into a ball, then he tossed it outside of the

room. He turned the knob next to the door, which caused water to pour out

of the shower head on the ceiling. He checked the water with his hand –

lukewarm.

Ethan said, "It's perfect for you."

He wiped his wet hands on his jeans, then he extended his arm towards

Emiko – go ahead, take my hand. Emiko sat in the corner, her arms

wrapped around her legs and her face buried in her knees. The couple stared

at each other – confused, frustrated, furious.

Ethan grabbed Emiko's arm, then he dragged her into the makeshift

shower. Emiko fell to her side under the water. She didn't fight Ethan.

Instead, she peacefully accepted the shower. The water brought a sense of

normality to her world. She felt filthy, worn and gross. She was afraid she

was sexually abused while she was unconscious, too. The water washed

away the uncertainty in her mind.

Ethan poured some body wash on the wet loofah, then he scrubbed

Emiko's body – all while Emiko vacantly stared at the wall. He vigorously

scrubbed every inch of her figure, from her head to her soles.

He stopped and said, "You're dirtier than I thought. You're going to need

hotter water. Don't move."

Emiko squirmed and whimpered as Ethan turned the knob near the door.

Scorching water spewed from the shower head. The searing droplets of water caused her skin to redden. Yet, the woman did not attempt to leave

the shower. She had given up on the idea of escaping.

As he scrubbed her, Ethan gritted his teeth and said, "I have to... cleanse

you, princess. I have to clean all of the shit you might have rolled in when

we weren't together. I know it hurts, it burns like hell, but you have to go

through this if you want to prove yourself to me."

He stopped scrubbing and sat back on his heels. He breathed deeply

through his gritted teeth, hissing like a snake as he waved his wet arms. Red

and sensitive, his hands and forearms were also burned by the hot water. He

persevered, though.

As he observed her fidgety body, Ethan said, "I want to believe you're a

virgin, Emiko, but it's hard. These days, everything is about sex. The 'news,'

the TV shows, the movies, the music, the books... It's all about sex. I mean,

books about sadomasochism sell more than extreme horror stories – and

that's just not right." As he massaged shampoo into her hair, Ethan said, "In

today's world, I don't know if a woman can stay a virgin after her thirteenth

birthday. In fact, I don't know a single woman who was able to keep her

legs closed after thirteen. You whores... You filthy whores, all of you!"

Emiko stared at Ethan with bloodshot eyes. She was awed by the man's

misogynistic speech – a vile rant fueled by hatred. His shifts in mood were

eerie, too. She couldn't tell if he loved or hated her. Still, she stayed quiet.

Emiko panted as Ethan rolled her onto her back. Scorching water

coursing every which way on her figure, her nipples were erect and her

milky white skin was riddled with rosy patches. She gasped as Ethan

separated her legs.

Ethan glared at her bare crotch, blinded by his rage. Like a person with

an obsessive-compulsive disorder, he had an inexplicable urge to clean

everything.

Without taking his eyes off of her crotch, he dragged the bucket closer to

the shower. The water in the bucket was boiled before he entered the room.

The temperature of the water was well above 200-degrees before the

shower. The temperature had dropped to 160-degrees by the time he

reached for the pail. The scalding water was enough to cause third-degree

burns – and Emiko wasn't aware of that.

Ethan lifted the bucket from the floor. He stared at his captive's bottom

half, as if he were contemplating his next move, then he dumped the water

on Emiko's crotch. Emiko shrieked at the top of her lungs as the searing water streamed across her crotch and vagina. The bloodcurdling screech

echoed through the home.

Ethan struck Emiko with a closed fist – a fast, powerful jab to the face.

Emiko continued to flail her limbs and scream. So, Ethan struck her again.

He cried as he hit her four more times with all of his might, water raining

onto his head and shirt. He stopped his assault as blood leaked from

Emiko's busted nose. She twitched and groaned, defeated.

As he staggered to his feet, Ethan sniffled and said, "That... That's

enough of that. You–You're clean now." He approached the knob and turned

off the water. Teary-eyed, he said, "I'm... I'm sorry about hitting you. It was

for your own good. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you, okay? I'll go get

your clothes, then I'll finish dinner. I'm... I'm sorry."

Emiko did not respond. She lay on the floor and vacantly stared at the

ceiling – dazed by the attack. Lips painted with blood, hoarse breaths

escaped her mouth as she shuddered uncontrollably. She could not feel her

crotch. As a matter of fact, she felt nothing at all – no pain, no emotion,

nothing.

Disappointed in himself, Ethan walked out of the room with his head

down. He locked the door, then he proceeded with his plans.

***

"I knew it would look good on you," Ethan said as he ran his eyes over

Emiko's figure. "I guess everything looks good on you. You're just

gorgeous, princess. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet. I'm a

lucky guy."

Emiko sat in the corner of the room, her wet hair swept over her

shoulder. She wore a sleeveless black dress with a v-neckline. The tight

dress perfectly gripped her petite figure. Her outfit was simple but elegant.

However, clothing could not cover the dried blood under her nostrils or her

swollen lips – a garment could not heal her wounds.

Ethan placed a tray on the floor between the couple. He shoved the tray

closer to Emiko's bed. Two plates and two cups sat on the plastic tray.

Grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, and white rice were piled on the

plates. The cups were filled with water. In order to prevent an escape or an

attack, the eating utensils on the tray were plastic. The meal was supposed

to be healthy in order to make Emiko feel like she was home.

It didn't work.

Ethan shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth. He loudly chewed his

food, smacking his lips like a parched camel. He smiled and beckoned to

Emiko as he reached for his chicken – go ahead and eat, it's safe. To his

dismay, his date did not devour the fresh meal or guzzle the cold water. Her

lack of appetite was worrisome.

Ethan asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

Emiko furrowed her brow as she stared up at Ethan. Did I do something

wrong?–she was stunned by the audacious question. She was kidnapped,

restrained, and brutalized by Ethan, but he still had the nerve to ask such a

disrespectful question. She couldn't utter a word. She was violated – defiled

– by the unhinged man.

Ethan pushed the tray closer to Emiko. He said, "I made this meal just

for you, sweetie. I know what you like. Please, eat."

Emiko slowly shook her head as she scooted closer to the corner. She

was hungry, but she refused to eat the meal.

Ethan loudly swallowed, then he said, "Please. It's good for the baby."

"The baby?" Emiko repeated, baffled.

The author gazed at Emiko's stomach. For a moment, he considered

telling her about the artificial insemination. If he succeeded, her pregnancy

would be reaching the fourteenth week. He needed her to eat to ensure the

child would be healthy at birth. He couldn't tell her the truth, though. An

honest confession would paint him as a monster – and he couldn't do that.

Ethan took a bite of the chicken and said, "I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'm sorry about that. I mean... If we're ever going to have a baby – far, far in

the future – you need to be healthy. Having a baby is the hardest thing on

the planet. It's a miracle that only females can provide thanks to their

strength and, of course, their sexual organs. It's... It's amazing. Please, eat

the food. Stay strong and healthy."

Who are you?–Emiko thought as she gazed into Ethan's moist eyes. One

moment, the man was spewing a vile rant about women; the next, he was

praising women for their resilience and strength. He was impossible to read.

Despite his kindness, Emiko remained hesitant. Doubt clouded her mind,

fear burdened her shoulders. She stared down at her body – she couldn't tell

if something were different about herself.

How could she trust the man who kidnapped her?

Ethan grabbed a spoonful of rice from Emiko's plate, then he held the

eating utensil closer to her mouth. On his knees, he slowly scooted closer to the young woman. He didn't want to alarm her with any sudden movements.

Emiko whimpered as the spoon touched her lips. Her tongue quivered as

her taste buds tingled.

Smiling, Ethan said, "Come on. It's okay."

Emiko reluctantly opened her mouth and accepted the food. Tears

materialized in her eyes as she chewed. The food was fine – delicious, in

fact. She felt like she was enabling Ethan's erratic behavior, though. She

wasn't giving him false hope on purpose, she was just afraid of starving.

She had to eat – there were no other options on the table.

Ethan placed the spoon on the tray and said, "You can eat the food by

yourself." He chuckled, then he said, "It's probably a little creepy with me

feeding you like that. Like I said: I don't want to make you feel

uncomfortable. Go ahead and eat. I trust you."

Emiko took a deep breath, then she crawled closer to the tray. She ate the

food while constantly glancing up at her captor. She didn't trust him,

obviously. Ethan watched with glowing eyes as Emiko devoured the rice

and chicken. He didn't mind her lack of manners in the dungeon.

The young man said, "I'm really sorry about what I did earlier. I love

you, Emiko. I truly love you. You're the first thing I think about in the

morning and the last thing on my mind before bed. You're in my dreams,

too. Even when I'm having nightmares, you're there to save me. You're

everywhere. I love you so damn much." He stared down at the tray,

dejected. He explained, "It's just... I've been stressed lately. It's been a...

frustrating year for me, for want of a better word. I've been treated poorly

in the past, you know? I've been tricked by the succubi before and it's made

me do some things I regret."

Mouth full of food, Emiko stopped chewing. She lifted her head from the

tray and stared at Ethan with a raised brow.

In an uncertain tone, she repeated, "Succubi?"

"Yes, succubi. I'm sure you're parents told you about them when you

were a child like my mother told me. I don't know, maybe they told you

about the incubi, but I'm not sure those even exist. Male demons... It's

absurd, isn't it?"

The room became quiet. A droplet of water occasionally plunged from

the shower head and plopped on the floor, but the couple did not share

another word.

Breaking the silence, Ethan asked, "You don't believe me?"

"I don't know about 'succubi.' Sorry," Emiko responded.

"A succubus is a demon, but it's not like the movies. They look like you

or any other woman. They try to seduce men like me to move forward in

the world. They don't talk to me because they like me, they just need me to

move forward – to climb the ladder of success. Sometimes, they just seduce

and torture men for fun. It's sick, but... that's the way life is. Anyway, I don't

think you're a succubus. I think we're having regular 'couple problems.' We

can work through it."

Emiko sat, motionless like a stone sculpture. She was awed by her

captive's peculiar rambling. She thought: what the hell is he talking about?

Ethan leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He lifted the tray from the

floor as he stood, then he walked towards the doorway.

He said, "Go ahead and get some sleep, sweetheart. I'm going to work a

little, then I'll try to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

Emiko vacantly stared at the door as Ethan secured the locks. She

listened to his every movement. The light under the door vanished with a

clicking sound. She continued to listen, though. She counted each creaky

step on the stairs – 12 steps. The number wouldn't really help her, but it was

something to think about as she wallowed in her misery.