Sighing, she pushed the plate away and pulled the coffee cup closer. She felt slightly sheepish, going out alone to eat French toast at one o'clock in the morning. But Master had to work nights during their visit, and she had a seemingly insatiable lust for American breakfast foods: she might as well indulge herself a bit while Master was working. After all, she wouldn't be back in the States all that long.
"Can I warm that up for you, dear?" The waitress interrupted her reverie.
"Thanks, no, I've had about enough." Master would probably want to sleep for a few hours when He came back to the hotel, but it wouldn't hurt her to catch a nap tonight. She drained her cup, picked up the check and headed for the cashier.
As she stood waiting for her change, she noticed the tall, black-haired man who had been sitting alone was rising from his seat. She had caught him staring at her several times as she ate. Quickly, she looked away, quickly trying to gauge the distance to the hotel and the amount of light on the street. She was a denizen of the cities, but for many years she had lived in places where it was safe to be out alone at night. She knew that she needed to be more cautious here, but she hadn't been worried when she left the hotel. After all, this was a party town that operated 24 hours a day, there were always people around. But something about this man and the way he had been watching her made her nervous, and he looked as big and strong as her Master. The block between here and the hotel, beyond the end of the Strip, began to seem decidedly desolate.
Stuffing the change into her handbag, she walked the door. Looking back inside the restaurant out of the corner of her eye, she saw the strange man watching her intently as he stood at the cashier's desk. Best to play it safe, she thought to herself, and quickly crossing the parking lot she ducked into the tattoo and piercing salon that stood between the restaurant and the hotel. If he follows me in here, she thought, we'll just see who can wait the longest.
Pretending to be absorbed in the selection of jewelry, she watched the front of the store for the man. There he was! But he was outside, walking right past the window. She gave an audible sigh of relief and her shoulders relaxed. Silly bitch, she admonished herself. Paranoid. Imaging assailants. Still, she waited a few more minutes before making her way out of the shop and heading for the hotel.
The street was calm and moonlit as she crossed, and the air balmy. It seemed a shame to go inside on such a night, but if she didn't get some rest she would be exhausted tomorrow. Thinking that her time with Master was too precious for that, she decided simply to take a short stroll around the pool and then turn in.
The noise of the casino could be heard only dimly. She breathed deeply, gazing at the reflection of the moon on the water and listening to the breeze rustling the palm fronds. It was lovely here, and her heart was filled with joy knowing that Master would be with her again in just a few short hours.
Turning, she left the pool area and started for the side entrance of the hotel. She didn't hear his footsteps until he was almost upon her as he darted out of the parking garage shadows. No time to turn, to see, to defend herself. One large hand was over her mouth, the other coming around her body to restrain her arms. He dragged her backward, kicking, into the deserted garage.
She struggled wildly, but he was incredibly strong. He pulled her over to a car and bent her over the trunk, shoving her face into the warm metal. With his big body pressing her against the car, he pinched her nostrils closed until she was forced to open her mouth. Swiftly he shoved a piece of cloth into it, then covered her head with some sort of bag. Blind, choking on the gag, she could only think no! no! no! This could not be happening.
He was wrapping a rope around her wrists behind her back, then he jerked her up. She heard the sound of the trunk opening but before she could think what that meant, she was shoved inside, her legs grabbed and tied tightly together at the ankles. He pulled her feet back and roped them to her wrists, forcing her body into a painful arch. Then, the trunk slammed shut over her head.
Mustn't panic, she told herself, trying to slow her breathing as she heard the engine start. Pay attention. Try to figure out where he is taking you. How many turns? Listen for the sounds.
But it didn't take long for her to become confused. They took too many turns, and sounds were muffled. She couldn't even tell if they were in a heavily trafficked area or on back streets. In spite of the heat and stuffiness in the trunk, she began to shiver.
Finally, the car came to a stop and the engine shut off. She heard the door slam and gravel crunching as he walked to the back of the car. Blessed relief as the rope holding her feet to her wrists separated, then the tight bonds around her ankles were loosened.
"You will walk with me, cunt," he hissed in her ear, "and don't even think about giving me trouble."
Shaking violently, she could only nod in response. He lifted her to her feet and held her tightly as he guided her forward. Stumbling, she felt the hopelessness of her situation. How could she even think of escape, blind and bound?
They paused, and she heard the sound of a key turning a lock. Then he shoved her ahead again, and the smoothness of the floor under her feet told her that they were inside a building.
"Kneel, bitch." His mouth was close to her ear. When she hesitated, he kicked her behind the knees and she dropped to the hard floor.
"Don't turn your head, don't move a muscle," the voice whispered. Cool air struck her face as the cloth was lifted from her head. Sensing him behind her, she dared to open her eyes a slit, trying desperately to get her bearings. But the room was a blur of shadows and she could see little but darker shapes within the gloom before a blindfold cut off her vision once again.
A muffled cry of pain escaped from behind the gag as he jerked her arms up behind her back, forcing her to lean forward. She felt him manipulating the rope, loosening it only to retie it once again, wrapping it tightly many times around each of her forearms. Then, taking her wrists in his powerful hand, he hauled her to her feet and shoved her forward.
"Stand here and spread your legs, slut." She complied, but apparently not to his satisfaction, and he kicked her feet wider apart. "Move and you will be one very sorry cunt." She swayed, struggling to remain still but scarcely able to sense which way was up. It was only when he stretched her left arm to the side that she discovered that her hands were no longer bound together. The rope was attached to some anchor to her side, then the right arm stretched out and fastened as well.
"Now, let's see what we have here," came his whisper again. She felt the coldness of steel pressed against her cheek—a knife. He caressed her with it, drawing the flat of the blade down the side of her face, tracing her chin with the point, and she began to cry. Swiftly, the blade went to the neck of her cotton dress and cut downward, slicing her clothing cleanly from her body. He ripped the shreds of it away and she heard him step back.
"What a little slut you are," he murmured. "No bra, no panties, and such a short skirt. You've really been begging for this, haven't you, whore?"
Desperately she shook her head. She was a slut, she thought to herself, but she was Master's slut. He had spent so much time and care bringing out this quality in her, teaching her not to be ashamed of it, yet at the same time claiming her as His own. She was Master's slut but here was this stranger, seeing her for what she was and forcing her within his control. She shivered as she felt the point of the knife trace lightly over her breasts and trailing lightly down to her waist.
Her terror combined with the coffee she had drunk earlier and her bladder released its contents. As the warm piss ran down her legs and splashed on the floor, she moaned in shame and fear.
"Oh, what a dirty little cunt. Pissing on my nice, clean floor. Pissing all over herself. Nasty bitch," he hissed.
She heard him walk away and circle the room, whistling tunelessly. She cocked her head and tried to slow her breathing in an effort to locate him. Would he simply leave her like this?
But no, the footsteps were approaching again. Suddenly, without warning, she felt the heavy lash of a leather strap on her ass. She lunged forward in an attempt to escape the pain, but was held firmly in place by the ropes stretching her arms.
"Bitch! I told you to keep your legs spread, didn't I?" The strap fell across the front of her thighs, forcing her back into position. "Spread them, you cunt." Sobbing, she complied, only to be rewarded with a slashing blow on each of her inner thighs. Then he returned to work on her backside, carefully timing each strike so that she felt the pain of each to its fullest. Biting down on the cloth that stuffed her mouth as she fought to remain still, she felt each blow on her back, her ass, her legs as a vicious stripe of fire.
His hand grabbed her jaw and forced her face toward him. Pulling the gag from her mouth, he whispered, "Scream if you must, there is no one to hear. But I warn you: too much noise and I will get irritated. You don't want me irritated, do you, little slut?" She could only gasp for air, sucking it deep into her lungs.
Before she could catch her breath, he was swinging the strap again, raising welts on her belly and breasts. When it struck her nipples, always so sensitive, she could not suppress her scream of pain. Through the sound of blood rushing in her ears, she heard him cluck an admonition. The strap came down on her cunt, directly over her clit, its end flicking around to sting her lips. She bit her lip ferociously to keep herself quiet. Again and again the strap came down, until her entire body was a blur of pain. Her knees gave way and she hung panting between the ropes.
