The sound of an approaching car kicked up the terror burning in my chest. I yelped and fell to the ground, wrapping my arms around my body and trying to be as small as possible. The car, a red sedan, went by me and passed. I tried to relax, to breathe, but my body was too tense to allow it.
It was fine, I told myself. Most people kept their eyes on the road, not looking to the sides at all the houses. Still, just the possibility of some stranger seeing me naked was terrifying.
Why? You had no qualms about David seeing you naked.
That's different, I told myself, my eyes filling with tears.
Or was it? Did I secretly crave that sensation, of someone seeing me at my vulnerable, exploring my naked body like David had? Being controlled?
Another car approached. It moved down the street like the other one did, but I could've sworn it slowed down, just slightly, before passing. I swallowed. Had the driver seen me? What did they think? Did they think that I was being coerced outside naked? Did they think I was enjoying this?
My legs were starting to fall asleep. I stood up and walked back-and-forth on the patio. The sensation of bare feet on the concrete and the cold wind on my crotch felt odd.
Another car came down the street, faster than the other two. I didn't have time to retreat to my fetal position. Instead, my eyes saw two people in the car, one in the passenger seat. The occupant of the seat looked bored, staring out the window. His eyes widened at the sight of me, and I knew that he could see everything. I groaned and retreated to my position. My cheeks turned red, and my crotch, still sensitive from my orgasm a little bit ago, burned.
The car passed, but the damage had been done. I could hear more cars coming. I turned around and pounded on the door.
David opened the door immediately. He must have been waiting, I realized, expecting me to cave. His eyes were full of concern, and from the way he looked at me, he fully expected me to finally say the safe words and end the experience. He was still holding the knife.
Except, I didn't. I had every intention of saying them when I started knocking, but now that I saw him, something powerful came over me. A desire--no, a need--to be completely controlled by him.
Completely dominated by him.
It took him a second to regain his composure when he realized I wasn't going to say the safe words.
"You're marooning isn't over," he growled. His eyes ran up and down my body, and I blushed.
"Please, let me back in," I begged.
"Those aren't the terms," he said. "It's barely been ten minutes."
"Please. I'll do anything. Just get me out of here!"
David narrowed his eyes. "What will you give me?"
"What?"
"You said you'll do anything. Make me an offer."
Distantly, I wondered if the safe words would even have any power at this point, that David would even honor them.
"I'll...I'll be your slave."
For a moment, he looked surprised at my offer. "For how long?"
For how long? He wanted to make this thing last longer than one evening? How had this experience gotten so out of control? "For the weekend," I said. "I'll come over this weekend and you can do whatever you want to me for two days."
"Hmm...2 months."
"What? No way! 4 days." My words made my throat dry. Holy crap, I was actually going to let him enslave me. Every time I bargained, the amount of time he owned me would grow and grow.
"A month and a half."
"A week."
"14 days."
I opened my mouth to bargain again, but his eyes made me whimper. He wasn't going to budge. I could hear another car coming, and I realized my ability to negotiate my sentence was dwindling quickly.
"F-fine, but only if I stay inside."
"I'll pick the time and location, wench." He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me inside.
He shut the door and grabbed me by my hair again, pulling me up to my feet. I whimpered at the pain. He wrapped his arms around me, one around my neck and the other holding the knife to my cheek. "You are my slave, and so there are some rules. You will not question my orders. You will do everything I ask without complaint. You will not cover yourself, ever. Do you understand?"
I nodded, the sensation of the knife on my neck terrifying. The tears that had started outside were coming in full force, heavy, fat droplets running down my face. "Y-yes."
"Finally, this is your sentence, and it is non-negotiable. You will not beg or bargain for release."
The real meaning of his words was clear: The safe words were no longer safe. I had no more power to save myself.