She awoke slowly. She could hear nothing but a ringing in her ears and her heart beating. Her mind was cloaked in a fog. She cautiously opened her eyes, but they, too, were in a haze. Thru the blurred vision she could see she was in a dimly lit room. Or was she dreaming?
She shook her head to rid herself of the fog, the haziness that enveloped her. She reached to rub her eyes, rub the blurriness away, but found she could not move her hands, she could not feel her hands. She could not feel anything.
So many thoughts raced thru her mind. Was she dead? Had she been in an accident? She laid her head back and closed her eyes again, trying desperately to remember where she was.
Slowly the fog lifted and she remembered sitting at the bar in the hotel lounge. She had been waiting for someone. But who? She couldn't remember.
The image of the bar became clearer in her mind. She remembered sitting on the black leather bar stool with nail head trim, sipping a glass of chardonnay as she scanned the lounge. She opened her small black purse to get a cigarette from its silver case. As she held the cigarette between her long fingers, searching her purse for a lighter, she remembered being offered a light by a handsome gentleman who sat on the stool next to her.
He was impeccably dressed in an Armani suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie. His cologne was not overpowering, but rather enhanced his masculine scent. She remembered his dark eyes. They were chatting, she remembered, as she finished her glass of wine and he finished his scotch.
That's it. That's all she could remember, and she laid her head back again, and closed her eyes.
As the fog in her head dissipated and the ringing in her ears silenced, she, once again, chanced a look at her surroundings. With a clearer head she could see that she was in a basement, or "dungeon" of sorts...cinder block walls, cement floor, and heavy wooden beams overhead. With the tingling of returned feeling to her limbs, she attempted to move, to sit up, but found she could not. She was bound, at her ankles and her wrists, by leather straps to what appeared to be an "X", slightly angled so as not to be straight up, nor lying flat.
Although she was still fully dressed, fear gripped her. What the hell was going on? What was she doing there? How did she get there? WHO could have done this to her? And Why?
She took a deep breath, preparing to scream for her life...but suddenly stopped...holding her breath as she heard the squeaking of an iron door being opened. She waited as the dark form came into view. It was Him...the man from the lounge. She would know those dark eyes anywhere.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?" she demanded. He remained silent.
"Let me down from this thing...NOW!", she said. Still he remained silent as she writhed and tugged at the bindings in an effort to loosen them.
"Damn it, this is not funny!!" she yelled at him.
He approached her, slowly, deliberately, sliding his finger across her thigh, then her arm. Brief touches, almost gentle. He leaned towards her, his hot breath on her ear as he whispered, "You are Mine now."
She struggled against the restraints that held her helpless. Without a spoken word, He unceremoniously ripped open her ivory colored silk blouse. Her breath caught, and she froze as He positioned Himself between her spread legs. Pressing His body against hers, He reached for something behind her.
In a menacing voice, He said, "My little girl will learn to obey."
To her horror, she discovered that what He had reached for was a knife. Tears filled her eyes as He moved the long cold blade across her chest, across her stomach. With the skill of a butcher, one swift slice, and her bra was cut at the center, between her now fully exposed breasts. Her face reddened with embarrassment and she closed her eyes in hopes of blocking it out.
