When she woke, she realised she hadn't been dreaming. He had gone and left her, naked and chained by twin handcuffs on her wrists to the brass bed head. She had finally succumbed to sleep, sweet relief from her thirst and hunger, and she awoke wondering if her plight was merely a dream.
It was no dream.
Her lover, who she had trusted to chain her and fuck her, and then unchain her, had chained her – with her own manacles- fucked her, yes, he had done that OK, but then he had simply dressed himself and left.
Gone!
Abandoned her.
How long ago was this?
24 hours? Who knows? She was face down on the bed, each wrist in a manacle chained to one side of the brass bed head. Her arms ached and she couldn't get comfortable no matter how she tried. She had knelt like this as he shafted her from behind, doggy style.
She cursed herself for having made the suggestion.
She loved the sense of surrender and she had asked him to scream obscenities at her as he fucked her roughly. She got such a thrill from being abused, from being taken, from being treated as worthless.
But while the sex was good, what happened next was not. He simply turned, and she heard him dress, and silently leave, closing her apartment door behind him. She called out his name at first, assuming he would return, but he did not.
The thirst came first, then the hunger. She passed out a couple of times, waking with a start. Finally, sleep had borne her out of her misery into a dream about freedom, until she awoke, and was jolted back to reality by the cold steel of the metal bands on her wrists. She tried to scream once or twice, but she only croaked, like a dying person. Fear of death began to enter her mind and she began to toggle between fear and hated; hatred of her erstwhile lover and fear of death. Why had he done this to her?
She sobbed.
Her body convulsed uncontrollably, and she resigned herself to her fate, when she heard the phone ring. Oh my God! She tried to lift herself up, but she was spread-eagled on the bed and she could no longer lift herself up. She ached with desire to answer the phone but she couldn't reach it. It rang and rang, until the answerphone cut in.
It was him!
"I'm so sorry," he said "I was high and I didn't know what I was doing. I've called the fire brigade to cut you free. Forgive me." Click.
Her heart leapt. The prospect of freedom felt so sweet. She cared not at all for her naked state, or her strange posture. Any embarrassment would be temporary, survival would be for life! Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breathing became short and shallow.
The knock was loud and insistent.
"HELLO!" she screamed, loudly this time. "Hello!" The knock at the door, stopped and was replaced by the sound of a ram pounding the door. The door burst open, and two yellow trousered figures burst in, scanned the room for a person, and finally they located her, and after exchanging a knowing look, they rushed to her side.
"Are you OK?" number one asked, a twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Water!" she gasped, "get me some water!" Number two thrust a cup of water to her lips.
"Here you are!" said number two, and she gulped gratefully at the water, felt its sweet taste on her parched throat.
"You are chained?" said number one, with breathtaking observation.
"Cut me free!" she replied "please cut me free!"
"We will call for bolt cutters" said number one, "we just wanted to ensure you are alive" With that number one motioned toward her manacles, and asked her:
"Who did this to you?"
"My lover" she whispered.
"Were you drugged?"
