Chapter 1

Somewhere in Rural America

Present day

She had never been so frightened in her entire life. She knew she was going to die. Her captor would kill her for certain. Or fuck her then kill her. Or torture her, fuck her, then kill her…

Any way you sliced it, she realized she was as good as dead.

Regina Rose shivered from behind the blindfold she wore—the only thing save the gag in her mouth she was presently wearing. Her cornflower blue sundress and modest white cotton panties had been ripped from her body long ago. She wasn't certain at what point her shoes had been snatched from her feet, but in the grand scheme of things, she supposed her shoes shouldn't much matter.

For hours she had been tied up like this—sitting on a chair, her hands cuffed behind her back forcing her breasts forward, the chill in the dank, dark cellar she was being kept in making her light pink nipples stiffen and ache. Her ankles were cuffed too, each one chained to the furthest point on either side of the chair so that her thighs were kept spread wide open, exposing her labia and clit to…

She didn't know to whom. Ice-cold fear trickled down her spine as she wondered for the hundredth time just who her captor was.

A fan, she knew. A man who claimed to be her most devoted fan, in fact.

Oh God, she thought, hysteria rising as her breasts began to heave. I've been kidnapped by a goddamn psychopath.

All Regina had ever wanted to do was be a singer. For as long as she could remember, songs had been running through her brain. Hell, she'd written her first song at the age of six. It had been dumb as hell, crooning on and on about lollipops and ice-cream, but still it had been a song. Gumdrop Mountain, she had called it. The board game Candy Land had inspired it.

The older she grew, the more intricate and captivating her songs became. And the more other people—any people—wanted to hear her sing them. She had been a shy, naïve fifteen when she'd written her first chart-topping song. That one had been about her first infatuation, Adam, and about how Adam had broken her heart when he'd fallen in love with that slutty Betty Olsen down the road instead of her.

Good ol' Adam Bennett. He might not have given her the time of day, but her first crush had unintentionally made her a rock star. From there Regina had been signed to a major label. A week later she was famous and a millionaire to boot. Betty Olsen, she thought smugly, was still in that two-bit town in Arkansas, probably popping out her twelfth kid from her twelfth common law husband.

But Regina, well, Regina was living the life of luxury. She was rich and she was famous and she was beautiful and she was…

She stilled, reality—the reality she'd been doing her damnedest to forget—slowly returning. She was a naked captive held hostage in the cold cellar of a psychopath, she thought, panic returning with reality. Oh damn, she told herself, her nipples growing impossibly stiffer from the numbing chill, I've got to get loose…

Desperate and terrified, Regina rattled the handcuffs securing her to the cold metal chair. She opened her mouth to scream, only then remembering she'd been gagged. Help me! she mentally wailed. Somebody please help me!

       The sound of a nearby door creaking open made her still once again. Her heart began slamming in her chest as the bone-chilling sound of not one—but two!—sets of footfalls steadily made their way down some steps and toward where she sat. She recalled her legs being hoisted wide apart and thrashed on the chair, hoping to no avail to close them. This isn't happening, Regina thought, her large breasts heaving up and down with her labored breathing. Dear God in heaven, tell me this isn't happening…

       "I don't believe it," a deep, masculine voice murmured. "It's really her."

The second man had an excited grin in his voice. "Regina Fuckin' Rose!"

"Holy shit."

"Holy shit is right. Just look at those big titties. And her cunt…"

"She shaves it bald," the first man murmured in a thick voice.

Regina swallowed past the lump of terror in her throat. She simply couldn't believe this was happening. She began to thrash again as the hysteria built, but realized even as she did so she would never get loose. The only thing the thrashing did was make her breasts jiggle up and down. That in turn only made her already stiff nipples ache more. And no doubt gained her captors' undivided attentions.

The overly excitable man, the one with the grin of accomplishment in his voice, she was certain he was the man who had kidnapped her. The same man who had claimed to be her most loyal and devoted fan. The same man who had prattled on at length about how a woman like her probably thought she was too good for him, but he'd show her yet.

She thrashed about harder, her heart pounding in her chest, her breasts jiggling like mad, trying in vain to get loose. Please, God, she prayed, the hysteria so acute she thought for one brief moment she might have gone insane, please help me!

       "Don't get yourself all worked up," the first man said in that low whisper of a voice peculiar to him.

She felt a set of large, callused fingers run over her shaved mons and between her legs. She immediately stilled, her body stiffening, when his thumb found her clit.

"We might let you live," he murmured, his thumb rubbing her clit in slow, methodic circles, "if you give us what we're wanting without a fight."

Regina cried from behind the blindfold, the only sound coming out due to the gag that of a small, guttural groan. She sounded like the chained pet she felt like, she hysterically thought, her entire body shivering. Yesterday she had been happy and content being the famous, beloved Regina Rose. Today she would have given anything to be the slutty, ordinary Betty Olsen.

"Is the camera on?" the first man asked in his low voice.

There was something eerily familiar about that voice, Regina thought. Something causing a spark of déjà vu to knot in her belly.

"It is now," the excited man answered. "Jesus, my dick is hard! Nobody is going to believe this, Adam. Nobody."

Adam, Regina silently gasped. She did know that voice. Her breathing grew impossibly more labored as the reality of the situation struck her:

       Adam Bennett. Her first crush. The man who had unwittingly made her a star. He had conspired to kidnap her. And now he was conspiring to rape her…

      And quite possibly kill her.

       "That's why we've got the camera on, idiot," Adam muttered before swiping his long, warm tongue down her slit. "Mmmm," he murmured as his tongue swirled around her clit and then around her tight hole. "Damn she tastes as good as I knew she would, Johnny."

       Johnny Bennett—Adam's younger brother. Adam's younger, but equally handsome and well-built brother. Both men stood about six feet tall. Both men sported silky jet-black hair and brown eyes. Both men had always worked as bricklayers, their muscles heavy and defined from the strenuous family trade.

       Holy. Shit. She was a dead woman.

       Regina shivered from behind the gag. She could feel herself growing moist as Adam continued licking up and down her slit and didn't care for the feeling in the slightest. Adam and Johnny Bennett! This just wasn't happening! For years she had wanted Adam—she had prayed to God every night back in Arkansas that one day he would notice her—but sweet lord above she had never wanted him like this.

       "You asked and you received. Happy birthday, big bro."

        Regina's nostrils flared. Happy birthday? If she hadn't been gagged her jaw would have dropped open. Her rape and murder was to be a fucking birthday present? She couldn't believe this, simply could not believe it. This had to be a joke. Certainly they would stop before raping her and tell her it was all a joke?

       She knew them, for goodness sake. She could identify them to the authorities. What's more, if they took her like this she most definitely would identify them to the authorities. Assuming, she thought, the dumbfoundedness deserting her in favor of another round of panic, they let her out of this cold, damp cellar alive…

         She began to thrash again, the iron handcuffs making loud clanging sounds against the cold metal chair. Her breasts jiggled harder, her labia slammed smack dab into Adam's awaiting mouth.

        Oh God! Regina mentally screamed, as Johnny's hands came around the back of the chair and cupped her large breasts. She cried from behind the gag when he began massaging her stiff nipples, rolling them around between thumbs and forefingers. There is no way they will ever let me leave here alive, she told herself. No fucking way.

       Rational thought deserted her. Terror reigned supreme. Her heart began slamming so hard in her chest she felt as though she might pass out.

       Deep down inside, Regina knew they'd either keep her forever or kill her outright. At the moment she didn't know which scenario to hope for.

       Regina Rose. Yesterday's Queen of Pop. Today's Slave of Madness.

       Somebody help me!