The Voice - Part One

(warning: contains non-consensual sex)

"Ssssh."

The voice hissed in Jillian's ear. She couldn't see who made the noise but she felt the hot, moist breath on the back of her neck. Lying face down on a hard but covered surface, she craned her neck around and blinked repeatedly. There was nothing but an all-engulfing blackness. Her stomach lurched. Was this how it felt to go blind? Her short, sharp bursts of breath sounded monstrous in her ears, as did the locomotive thudding of her heart. Her terror beyond language, she whimpered.

"Sssh. Just stay calm. You're alright." The disembodied voice sounded more distant now, as if the speaker were a few feet away. There was a short, crisp echo that followed the voice - walls that bounced the sound around a small, enclosed space.

"I...I can't see. Why can't I see? Where am I? What's happened?"

A deluge of demands came pouring from her mouth, and only when she spoke did she hear the rawness, feel the pain and dryness in her throat. She moved her head again and felt a sickening dizziness.

"Sssh. Just be calm. You're perfectly safe."

To her ears, the voice now sounded ridiculous. How could she be calm? She couldn't fucking see. And... move. She couldn't move. Only at that instant did she realise her arms ached, trapped as they were behind her back and that the pressure holding them there was painful. Her hands were cold and numb as if her blood was reaching them only slowly. She squirmed, rolling over onto her side and kicking out with her leg. The motion pulled the other leg with it. That's when she knew she was bound.

"Oh... God..." gasped Jillian. "What the hell is this?"

"Don't go upsetting yourself."

Out of nowhere, there was a warm pressure on her thigh - a hand. It patted her. Jillian flinched and drew her knees up to her chest.

"Fuck! Don't! Don't touch me!"

"Fine." The response was bone dry and emotionless. The voice, so solicitous before, had suddenly changed into the cold, clipped snap of a single word.

Jillian heard the rustling of clothes and then muffled footfalls. A sequence of clicks and suddenly the room flooded with blinding light. Her sensitive eyes fought to make out images and suddenly it was there: the silhouette of a person, a man, in an open doorway with light beyond streaming around him into the darkness of where she lay.

"I suggest you find a way to control your emotions, Miss Brumley. Hysterics will do you no good at all. No good at all."

Then the door slammed shut, and Jillian heard locks sliding into place - three of them. She was back in the inky, suffocating darkness again.

 

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