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From the couch, she could see that they had the labels on them that meant they weren’t commercial videos bought from the store, but either things recorded off the TV or home movies. He thumbed through them and pulled one out and popped it into the VCR.
He went to sit on the stairs where he had a good view of Veronica, but none of the TV.
“Aren’t you going to watch?” she asked, still not sure what she was about to see.
“No. I can’t watch it. I need to watch you watching it.”
He stood for a moment to flip the overhead lights on. Before, the room had been lit only by a dim floor lamp. He tossed her the remote.
“Push play and don’t take your eyes from that screen, no matter what you see.”
Okay, now he was starting to scare her. It hadn’t occurred to her that giving in and saying she’d do what he wanted might speed up whatever his plan was. While he might not kill her, whatever he would do might have taken longer to work up to if she could have managed the will to fight him more, but a part of her had been afraid he’d get tired of her attitude and toss her out. It would be like biting the hand that was feeding her. The very idea that she didn’t want her kidnapper to throw her out where she’d be subject to the whims of the elements was enough to make her stomach turn over.
She pressed the play button. There was a woman on the screen. She was naked, on her knees—a brunette like Veronica. Ivory skin like Veronica. When her face rose to the camera, Veronica could see the resemblance—it was eerie. Trish. There was someone else on the film. A man in black pants and riding boots. A riding crop dangled casually from his hand. Veronica couldn’t see his face, but then he spoke.
“I want you to crawl for me,” Luke said.
She began to crawl in slow, long circles across the floor, running the length of a large oriental rug, revealing a brand on her hip that looked like the image on Luke’s business card. He followed, hitting her across the ass with the riding crop, leaving red welts as she continued to move across the floor. Finally, he stopped her.
“I want to look at what’s mine. Show me.”
The woman stopped crawling and sat back on her heels, her legs spread wide. There were a few tears sliding down her cheeks from the crop, but the look in her eyes when she looked up at him was pure adoration. She loved him.
“Show me, slut. Show the camera. I’m going to show this to the guys later. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Of course you would, you little whore. Now show me.”
Her face went red as she spread her legs wider, parting the folds of her labia with her fingers.
Veronica looked away, too uncomfortable watching this with Luke watching her, wondering if he could tell how aroused she was becoming, wondering if it would seal her fate, terrified she’d end up branded like the woman on the screen.
“I said don’t take your eyes off the screen,” Luke said. It was the same tone he was using on the film.
She forced herself to look back at the video, afraid of what he might do if she defied him.
The Luke on the screen continued. “How badly do you want to finger yourself?”
A whimper.
“Beg me. You know how I like my sluts to beg.”
“Please, Sir. I need to come.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.”
Another whimper. “Please...” Her finger edged closer to her clit and he smacked her hand hard with the crop, drawing a scream from her.
“Very naughty, dear. We don’t touch ourselves without permission, do we?”
“N-no, Sir.”
“Crawl to me, show me how sorry you are.”
This must have been something they’d done in the past, because she seemed to know exactly what he wanted. She slunk over to him on her hands and knees like a beaten dog. Her tongue darted out to slowly lick the length of his boot.
“Good girl,” he said when she’d finished ingratiating herself to him again. “You can touch yourself now, but if you don’t come hard enough, there will be punishment.”
