She awoke with a start, not knowing exactly what brought her out of a restful sleep. Slowly she sat up, eyes blinking, trying to focus in the darkness. She tilted her head, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary.
In the quiet of the night she heard nothing, shaking her head slightly she laid back down, sinking into the warm coziness of the comforter.
Laying in the darkness her mind drifted back to the activities of the day before, mentally ticking off what she had completed and what still needed to be done at work.
Again, drifting off to slumber, her breathing slow and even as she fell deeper into sleep. The man standing just out of sight in her bedroom, waiting.
He was a tall man, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and ruggedly handsome. Sheā¦long, flowing burnished gold tresses reaching to the small of her back, naturally wavy, large, dark eyes that changed colors with her moods, trim but still voluptuous.
He had been watching her for sometime, making note of her daily routine, where she worked, who she associated with, etc. Some days ago he had finally decided what he needed to do and had started planning for this night. The night in which he would make her his own, the night in which she would be his forever.
Stealthily moving to the edge of her bed, he reached a large hand, clamping it tightly over her mouth, his other hand pulling her hands together over head. As he did this, she came out of her sleep with a violent start, struggling against him, a scream catching in her throat.
Bending forward, leaning close to her, he whispered, his voice gruff, ābe still and no harm will come to you, lil oneā.
Her eyes were wide, tears already gathering, her body trembling, slowly she nodded her head in understanding. He lifted his hand from her mouth but not before whispering another warning to her not to scream or make any sound.
Still holding her hands, he fumbled in his pocket, withdrawing a length of nylon rope, carefully securing her hands together. Once this was done, he helped her to sit up slightly in her bed, turning the bedside lamp on, the dim light casting shadows against her silken nude body. She tried to slide back down under the comforter, trying to hide her nakedness from him, a deep blush covering her delicate features.
Seeing what she was attempting to do, he threw off the bed coverings, his voice firm as he spoke to her, reprimanding her, ādonāt ever hide your nakedness from me lil one, ever.ā
His hand firmly gripping her chin as he spoke, tilting her head up to him as he asked ādo you hear me slut?ā
Gasping with indignant shock hearing him calling her a slut, she opened up her mouth, preparing to tell him exactly what she thought of him, but one look into those piercing eyes stopped the words on her tongue. Thinking better of rising his ire, she lowered her eyes, clamping her lips together, nodding her head.
His grip tightened on her chin, forcing her to look up to him, āhmmm, one more rule, I like to be answered verbally, not with a shake or a nod of the head, I donāt like to see bouncing heads on good slaves like you, pet.ā
Her eyes narrowed, this time she could not stop the words from spewing forth, āhow dare you come into MY bedroom, bind my hands, call me a slut and then have the audacity to tell ME that YOU do not like to see slaveās heads bobbingā.
He smiled to her, she clamped her mouth shut again, just now realizing what she had saidā¦what he had saidā¦her mind whirling with the word āslaveāā¦
Surely she thought, āthis canāt be happening, this has to be a dreamā¦slavery isnāt legalā¦why would he want a slaveā¦and why me of all peopleā¦ā
Her mind kept asking why, why, why?
She looked up to him, her voice steady but just a little unsure, āyou said you did not like to see slaves heads bobbingā¦just exactly what did you mean by thatā¦ā
Again he smiled to her, his teeth pearly white against his deep bronzed skin, ājust what I said slaveā¦I donāt like to see good slaves heads bobbing.ā
She opened her mouth to speak; shutting it again as her mind turned in turmoil, āWhat does he mean,ā her mind kept asking.
Again she opened her mouth, the words coming in a halting formation, her mind whirling. āI donāt understand, what do you mean by slave and why do you call me thatā, her voice getting softer, more timid with each word, a deep fear gripping her heart as she waited for him to explain.
Sighing softly, he sat on the edge of the bed, a large, softly callused hand gliding over her velvety smooth skin, fingers splaying over her chest, gently cupping one firm breast as he smiled to her. His thumb slowly circling the now rigid nipple, smiling as he hears her intake of breath, noting the way her body is responding to him, just as he knew she would.