Samantha waited for what seemed like forever in the captain's room. It wasn't particularly well lit, but from what she could tell he didn't have anything particularly sinister in there. Perhaps she'd get lucky and he'd just let her be in the corner the other men had dropped her off in.
Eventually the captain came in and turned the lights further down to an almost candle-like glow.
"Get up, Samantha," he said in a monotone voice.
She looked up to see the same plain looking man from before, but with significantly less clothing on than before. In fact, he was nude save for a pair of underwear. Normally Samantha wouldn't have given him a second look on a beach somewhere, but he wasn't physically unattractive either. Muscular and lean, but lacking well developed abs, he looked more like someone she'd enjoy as a friend to tease than as a lover. Obviously, however, the whole business of him kidnapping her had killed any attraction she felt toward him.
"I said to get up. You'll need to obey much quicker if you expect to be a valued slave girl."
She noticed that he almost seemed to despise saying that and thought she could use it to her advantage. If she knew something about this man, and how he'd found her (among other things), perhaps she'd be able to escape.
"You don't seem particularly enthusiastic about kidnapping me. It seems silly to kidnap me for sex if you don't even find me attractive."
He rolled his eyes.
"I don't even know your name," she cooed as she moved toward him. "Perhaps, if I knew a little about you, I might even be inclined to go along with this arrangement."
She was firmly, yet gently, pushed onto the room's bed as, at the same time, he began to dress himself in a set of otherwise innocuous pajamas.
"Stop acting ridiculous. I'll be doing nothing to you, dear. For one, you aren't even my type; I'm actually attracted to pale redheads. Secondly, I'm quite happily married. This kidnapping was strictly business."
"Business? Married? You're only making this worse you bastard!"
He sighed and flopped down in a chair.
"I suppose you're right. Keeping you in the dark about your new circumstances won't do any of us any good. Ask away, although you may not like the answers."
"Well, for one, how do you know who I am and why did you kidnap me--clearly for sex--if you're not attracted for me and are 'happily married?'"
"That's fairly easy. Everything I need to know about you is in the file my clients--in this case, your husband's family--gave to me. They hired me to kidnap you and get rid of you because, frankly, you're a pain in the ass."
Samantha looked horrified as he continued.
"Ironically, 'pain in the ass' is something you'll be experiencing quite a bit of if you don't learn to do what I teach you. As for me, I'm not a sex slave trader at all, so this is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you."
"How could this possibly be as bad for you?"
"Well, Samantha. Are you familiar with the film 'Pulp Fiction'?"
She nodded, slightly confused.
"You see, I'm a bit like Winston Wolf. I'm a problem solver. You were a problem, and I've clearly solved it. Your friends, unfortunately, had to die. The captain, thankfully, was informed of what was about to happen before we boarded."
He poured himself a drink of water and continued.
"This whole business is uncomfortable for me because I actually don't condone sexual slavery. There are some real barbarians in that particular business and I prefer to not associate with them. It doesn't help that both my wife's Roman Catholicism and my Judaism frown upon it."
Samantha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Those bastards had done the worst possible thing to her, and they'd clearly hired someone who was insane to do it.
"Alright, so I've been kidnapped for sex. Can't I do something to get you to let me go?"
"Unfortunately no. I don't get paid until you're in someone's possession. I'd much prefer to just leave you in a different country and say best of luck, by I really do have an obligation to feed my family first."
"So what the hell is going to happen to me?" Samantha was clearly getting to the point of panic as what was happening began to sink in.
"Well, we're going to journey to a secret port where this kind of business gets conducted. In the meantime, I'll be showing you some basic commands and teaching you some responsibilities you'll need to know before your new owner buys you."
"And if I refuse to listen?"
"I won't do much of anything really. You're beautiful, so it's not like I won't be able to find a buyer; that's absolutely where my concern ends. If you choose to not listen to him either--or don't know how to follow the instructions--well, it'll be your funeral."
Samantha sat stunned. She began to cry as the man began reading a book.
"I really must insist you keep it down. This happens to be my favorite book and I'd rather prefer to be able to enjoy it in peace."
Samantha turned over and wept into the pillow for a few hours before she managed to compose herself. She'd found some weak points in this man, she told herself. Perhaps, if she could get a name and start a repertoire with him, she'd be able to convince him to let her free out of sympathy.
"You know," she mused through the last few tears, "I don't even know your name."
He looked up from the book and peered at her from underneath his glasses.
"Well, as I'm re-reading 'The Great Gatsby,' perhaps you can call me Gatsby."
Gatsby. This man was getting more preposterous by the second.
"You know, neither of us had eaten all day. There is food in the refrigerator. Help yourself and then I think it'd be best if you went to sleep on that cot over there."
She hadn't even noticed the cot.
Samantha forced herself to choke down some of the fruit she found and then went to sleep, still in shock of the conversation that had just transpired.
It was six the next morning when Samantha was awoke by the sound of Gatsby's voice.
"Wake up, Samantha. It's time to begin your lesson."
He repeated the line several times and gently woke her up from her slumber. This seriously could not be what her life was going to be. He seemed soft, perhaps if she played difficult, she'd be able to get him to not do this to her yet.
"No."
"No, what?"
"No, I will not be 'trained' as some sex slave. You are going to give me clothes and let me go."
He sighed and patted her on the head.
"Alright, for your first lesson, you always address your owner as Master. You'll probably want to remember that right away."
Samantha stared. This man was just going to ignore her no matter what she said or did. This was unbelievable.
"I won't," she continued protesting, "let me go right now!"
While the past day and a half or so had been a blur, Samantha's reality was beginning to sink in and it was making her sick to her stomach. She had to get away, she had to.
"Please don't make me give you over to one of those barbarians to train you; I'd rather treat you as a human, albeit one in unenviable circumstances."
