Slowly coming to, eyes opening lazily I realize somehow and at sometime I have been bound. Twisting my wrists I can feel the leather cuffs snuggly holding my arms outstretched, the feel of flannel against the back of my entire body alerts me to the fact that I am obviously bound to the whipping wheel.
Attempting to draw my legs towards my body, I groan softly as I find them also bound in leather cuffs. The sound of the clasps sounding with a crisp jingle as I twist and strain against my bonds, lifting my head slightly I see only the dim light from the burning candles placed around the room on various stands. Most of which illuminate the tools of pleasure and torture, groaning again my mind races to the previous hours wondering what I have done to invoke being placed upon the dreaded wheel.
Hearing a slight noise, I turn my head slowly to the side and look at Your smiling face. The smile somewhat different than before chills race over my body as I whimper softly unsure as to speak or not. Watching You walk slowly towards me, my nipples harden instantly my body reacting to Your nearness.
Trailing a finger over my jaw and across my dry lips, You look lovingly at me. Not speaking a word to me as You raise a glass of chilled water to my parched lips.
βDrink my whore, it has been awhile since you have had anything to wet your throat.β
Drinking greedily from the glass a small amount of water dribbles down my chin onto my chest. Closing my eyes against the cold water on my skin, Your soft chuckle draws my eyes back to Your face. Still wondering what I might have done to deserve being shackled to the wheel, I watch You slowly draw the glass from my lips and feel the wheel tilt slightly.
Eyes searching Your face, I cringe as You slowly turn Your back on me. Finding my voice I ask softly what I have done. Receiving a stern look from over Your shoulder I lower my eyes to quietly wait for what is in store for me.
Relaxing slightly against the table, I listen to the soft sounds of the room. Your footsteps retreating towards the door sends another chill across my naked form. Lying quietly tears spring to my eyes, my mind racing. I know had much to drink, and I did not serve Master well as I was much intoxicated by the time He brought me home. Still worrying over the subject the door opens quietly with Your return. Daring to open my eyes, I see that You are carrying a small package.
βI have something for you my pet.β
The huskiness of Your voice alerts me that this will not be exactly pleasant for me. Looking up into Your shadowed features my breathing becomes shallow as the realization sinks in. Quickly returning my gaze to the box, I moan softly as the Celtic brand is removed from the packaging.