"Last call" the bartender says as I down my ninth shot of jack and sip on the remainder of what's left of my overpriced Long Island ice tea.
"You sure you don't need me to call you a cab?" the bartender asks.
Drunkenly I slur, "No I'm good. I can call a friend."
He nods in agreement and lets me finish my drink in peace. I debate on who to call, who would keep my secret, after all I'm not supposed to be here.
Master would not approve! I told him I was meeting a friend for a movie and would be home late. He asked all the basic questions who am I going with, what movie am I going to see, what time is the showing, and when I should be home, etc.?
I told him I was going to see the new Harry Potter movie with a new friend from work, that the movie started at 10:30, and we would probably stop off and get food before I got dropped off. So many lies; I don't like lying to him. Master doesn't like when I drink too much. He worries the damage that it will do on my body. However, I have been feeling terribly restless for weeks now and want to be drunk tonight.
I reach into my purse on the barstool next to me to pull out my phone. When suddenly a sharp grip is around my wrist that makes jump. I look up and it's him!
Before he can say anything, I blurt out, "Sir I can explain."
His rough voice sends shivers thru my body, "Start talking now!"
Now I know I'm in trouble. I motion him to sit but he just stands there over me piercing me with his cold eyes. I just stare at him unable to speak.
With a sharp tone he asks, "Well are you going to tell me why you lied?"
I bow my head with respect slowly starting to feel small.
I respond defensively, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks, "You have been distant and I felt ignored."
He releases my my wrist, "Grab your things, we're going."
The release of his grip on me stings more than his words. I quickly grab my things and follow him out the door of the bar. We curve around the alleyway behind the bar towards his car. I can tell by the way he is walking with each stride that he is enraged.
He shouts, "Stand by the curb and wait for me!"
This isn't good. He has something planned. I stand on the curb regretting my choices of lying to him. I should have told him how I have been feeling weeks ago, instead of internalizing it.
I can see him at his car looking for something in the trunk. I see him pull out some rope and something I can't see. He walks back over to me. I try to maintain my eyes on him and focus on him and not show any weakness.
His voice is stern, "Turn around with your arms out."
I hesitate, "NOW!" He barks.
The strictness of his order compels me into obedience and I put my arms out behind me. I prepare to take my punishment.
He ties my wrist together tightly I can feel the force of his rage, "Let's see if you feel ignored after what I have in store for you."
Despite the terrifying growl in his voice, I can still feel his care for me.
Then in one quick movement there's a burlap sack over my head; that must have been the other thing he was carrying that I couldn't quite see. I'm then being jerked off the curb by my wrist. In his forcefulness, I almost lose my balance, but I catch myself before I fall.
I can hear him laughing at me. He pushes me forward in the direction of the car. He holds me close by the throat. Master knows that's my weakness.
I want to fall into him, for him to hold me but I know that's not the case tonight; tonight, I'm getting punished.
He bends down and growls in my ear "You are never ever going to want to lie to me again my sweet."
Before I am given a chance to say anything, Master shoves me into the trunk of the car. His forcefulness always makes me weak and I can already tell how turned on I'm getting.
He slams the trunk of the car. This is new, he has never done this before. Of all the scenes that we have played together I have never been in the trunk of the car. I'm nervous yet excited for what he has planned for me.