I take it out. The lettering is tiny. All of it is written by hand. The rows are perfectly straight, the words arranged like armies of marching ants. I bring it close to my face and start to read:
AGREEMENT OF SURETYSHIP:
I, Lilly Ryder (there is a blank space that has already been filled with my name) enter into this agreement with the understanding that I:
Have accumulated substantial student loans in the order of $180,000.00 (one hundred eighty thousand dollars and zero cents),
and,
Am unable in my current or anticipated future financial situation to satisfactorily settle said debt,
and,
Am liable to default on the full debt amount plus collected interest.
Therefore, I grant subrogation of the full debt amount to J.S. (“The Guarantor”), thereby granting The Guarantor all my former creditor’s rights, privileges, priorities, remedies, and judgments.
This is done with the understanding that:
All outstanding accounts held in my name will be assumed, and settled, by The Guarantor, who, acting on my behalf, ensures no further financial burden to me,
and,
Settlement of newly-created debt between myself and The Guarantor will be remitted through fulfillment of the employment contract (“THE CONTRACT”) contained herein:
THE CONTRACT
(the title is capitalized and takes up two regular lines of space)
Purpose:
This agreement outlines the parameters of the professional relationship established on this, the ____ day of __October__, 2013, between
J.S., (hereinafter referred to as “the Employer”) and,
Lilly Ryder, (hereinafter referred to as “the Employee”)
WHEREAS the Employer desires to obtain the services of the Employee as remittance for debt(s) owed, and,
WHEREAS the Employee agrees to render all such services on the terms and conditions set forth in this document (“THE CONTRACT”).
Employment:
the Employee shall at all times and to the best of her abilities perform all duties required by the Employer.
The Employee shall comply with all policies and procedures, written and oral, as announced by the Employer and described henceforth.
Compensation and Accommodations
The Employee agrees to waive her right to monetary compensation. Instead, all services rendered will count against debt owed to The Guarantor.
The Employer agrees to provide the Employee with all accommodations necessary for the maintenance of current health. This will be done at the Employer’s expense, and includes essentials such as food, water, shelter, etc.
Length of Term:
THE CONTRACT shall automatically expire after five (5) years, or,
Until such time that The Guarantor deems the services rendered by the Employee to be equivalent to the worth of monies owed to the Employer ($180,000), subject to the following condition:
Premature termination of THE CONTRACT must be mutually accepted by both parties.
Work Schedule:
The Employee agrees to make herself available for the performance of contractual obligations at any time of the day, seven days a week, including weekends and holidays.
The Employee shall be entitled to forty-two (42) hours of cumulative sleep over any seven day period.
Description of Duties:
The Employee shall be employed in the capacity of a “Personal Assistant,” the current duties and responsibilities of which are set out in “Schedule A” annexed hereto and forming a crucial part of this agreement.
These duties may be amended from time to time at the sole discretion of the Employer, subject to formal notification of the same being provided to the Employee. However, they can be summed up in the following broad guideline:
Ensuring the complete and utter personal satisfaction of the Employer.
I, __Lilly Ryder__ (again, my name is filled out for me) herby consent to the conditions laid forth in this agreement, henceforth known as “THE CONTRACT.”
By signing this document, I declare that I have done so by my own free will. I have in no way been coerced or otherwise manipulated into signing THE CONTRACT. As a free citizen of the United States of America, I understand that THE CONTRACT is not in violation of my constitutional rights, in particular The Thirteenth Amendment. I waive all future right to challenge the legality of this document, including, but not limited to:
As ordered by a court
Under power of a defense attorney or attorney general.
By signing this document, I also declare that I am:
Free of venereal diseases and in good health.
Signature: _x____________
Date: _x________________
At the bottom of the contract, I see a small written note:
In short…
(I flip the page over)
YOU ARE MINE.
Disgust and revulsion billow up inside me, tinged by a strong sense of disbelief. I don’t have to look at “Schedule A” to understand what he wants. Personal satisfaction can only mean one thing.
He wants me as his sex slave.
Still, curiosity gets the better of me. I flip to “Schedule A”.
Schedule A: Duties and Responsibilities of a Personal Assistant
To be available at any time to satisfy any desire, sexual or otherwise, of J.S.
That’s it. There’s nothing more.
Why me?
Who is J.S.?
How did he find me?
One thing is obvious. The kidnapping has been planned for a long time. I am not a random victim.
This is someone I know.
Or, someone who knows me.
Chapter Ten
(Present day)
I never talk about my student loans. Hell, I knew they were enormous. But, they were essential for me to attend school. They were the reason I accepted the offer to extend my summer internship into a full-time job and took a year’s sabbatical to make it work. Unfortunately, when the client pulled out and left me jobless…
Shit.
An uncomfortable shiver runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the vile collar around my neck. This person—J.S.—has been watching me. Following me. Waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
For how long?
“Show yourself!” I scream, bolting up. “Goddammit, show me who you are!” I wave the contract angrily through the air. “You want me to sign this? I’d rather die first! Here’s what I think of your goddamn conditions!”
In one move I rip the paper in two, then ball the pieces up, stalk to the edge of my prison, and hurl them as far as I can. I spin around—furious, angry, confused, defiant—and stomp back to the pillar.
Halfway there, the lights go out.
“Mother fucking goddammit!” I curse when I collide with the serving tray in the dark. Pain shoots through my knee. In one violent bust, I sweep all the plates of food onto the floor. I earn some measure of satisfaction when I hear the porcelain shatter.
I find the marble beam and sit against it. I feel around until my hands come across the cloth, and I tug it over my shoulders.
So, J.S. thinks he’s stripped me of all my power, does he? He’s taken away my sight, my freedom, and thinks that will be enough for me to give up my body?
Tough fucking luck. He’ll have to kill me first.
He can never take away my willpower, my defiance.
“I deny you, you fucking asshole!” I scream. I’m shaking with adrenaline. “Do you hear me? I DENY YOU!”
Thus marks day one of my protest.
Chapter Eleven
(Present day)
They say solitary confinement is the worst kind of hell.
They’ve never been in my situation.
It had been seven days since I awoke in this room. Seven days since I was kidnapped and thrown in this God-forsaken dungeon.
I only know that by the amount of meals I’ve received. Seven. There have been seven meals brought to me. Each time, the lights go on for an hour. After that, I’m plunged back into darkness.
I refused to eat the first two. My weakening body could not resist the third. It came with a note from J.S. :
Your strength is failing. You will give in.
I found it only after devouring the meager plate of food.
Even calling it a “plate” is too generous. The meal was two eggs, a piece of burned toast, and one stalk of celery.
Succumbing to my desire to eat was a mistake. The tiny amount of food awoke a ravenous hunger in me that left me unable to sleep. Whereas before, my hunger had just been a dull ache, the moment my tongue tasted bread, it became a wild fire that could not be put out.
The next day, when my food came and the lights turned on, I found a new contract sitting beside the plate. There was another note:
You may sign when ready. Know that my patience is wearing thin. I am displeased with the state of your body. Your malnourishment is troubling. Until you sign and come under my care, I can do nothing to help.
- J.S.
PS: Please note the amended guideline at the end of Schedule A
The guideline read like this:
Schedule A: Duties and Responsibilities of a Personal Assistant
To be available at any time to satisfy any desire, sexual or otherwise, of J.S.
To maintain a constant body weight and shape, consistent to what it was on October 1st, 2013, allowing for a 2-3% deviation in such measurements to account for natural weight fluctuations, hormonal cycles, etc.
Ignoring the note, I nibbled on my pathetic provisions.
After that, it became a battle of pure willpower.
My captor knew I was starving. He knew the food he provided was barely enough to sustain essential body processes. He knew that one tiny bite would awake that insatiable hunger.
So, the next day, I discovered an entire tray of food. It was like the one that had arrived the first time, but even larger. There was a single spotlight shining on it.
I did not need the light to know it was there. My nose picked up the mouthwatering aroma the moment I woke up.
There were pastas and soups, cakes and tarts, glazed fruits and chopped vegetables. There was seafood—lobster, salmon, shrimp and clam—drenched in buttery sauce. There was scrumptious corn on the cob, glistening with cream, and steaming plates of veal, steak, and a half-dozen other meats. There were bowls of rice and rolls of sushi, teriyaki chicken, and pulled pork. There was even a whole bowl full of my absolute, biggest weakness: caramel-dipped chocolate truffles.
It was enough to feed a village. The smells were so rich that they would send the strictest dieter onto the biggest binge of her life.
When I stood up on trembling legs, my mouth salivating, the rest of the lights came on. I blinked through the pain that the sudden brightness always caused, and saw that my path to the food was blocked by a single sheet of paper.
The contract.
There was another message:
You are hungry. The food you see is two feet beyond the range of your collar. Sign, and you will earn your first freedom:
Twenty-four inches.
I collapsed onto the floor and cried.
It was the illusion of freedom that got to me most, not the promise of food. In that moment, I saw just how desperate my situation had become. Every aspect of my life was governed by a madman. He would continue feeding me, barely enough to live, while tempting me with the relief that would come when my signature scratched on the empty line of that filthy piece of paper.
I crawled back to the pillar and hugged the balled-up cloth to my chest. The lights went out.
That day, I did not even receive my allotted breakfast.
Chapter Twelve
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