Savannah And Colt Chain Me Up 1

INT. SAVANNAH AND COLT'S APARTMENT -- SPARE BEDROOM -- WALK IN CLOSET -- PAST/INDETERMINATE TIME

The abrupt change in temperature meant only one thing -- Colt was home. Whipping my head around I tried desperately to get a peak around the silk cloth that was tied around my eyes but all was for naught. That sucker was on there tight! After licking my lips with my leathery, thirsty tongue I tried to call to her, make a sound, say anything that would get her to direct her attention away from stripping down and drawing a bath and towards me... Tied up... In the walk in closet... Alone... With the light off... Oh gosh, you get my drift! It's not like I planned it this way, oh no! It's not like I even MEANT FOR TODAY TO HAPPEN. But oh well, I guess we live and learn.

INT.SAVANNAH AND COLT'S APARTMENT -- MASTER BEDROOM/BATHROOM -- 5AM

This morning started out like any other, mind you. Colt, my lovely girlfriend of five years, was woken up by her shrill alarm at five o'clock sharp. Well, should I say I was woken up to wake her up... Why she's been getting up so early this past month is beyond me but whatever she does between then and her ten o'clock work shift seemed to be paying off. Hearing her alarm, I rolled over nudged her in the back with my knee hoping she would wake up. "Five more minutes... Please?" she said laughing. Rolling out of bed and onto the floor she looked up from her hands-and-knees position and reached for my leg, ultimately flicking the reason for her wake-up. "You know your bony little knee will always wake me up. It's a good thing I'd love you or you'd be getting drop kicked right now!"

Grabbing her slippers from the floor by her other hand she hops up and jogs casually to the bathroom... Naked. Always with the naked. I'm not saying I mind but it is awfully hard to return to sleep and actually sleep with that wonderful imagine in my mind each morning. Colt is.... Well she just is. No words can truly capture her instance and to try would be to put to shame all that she is. Tall and statuesque, she towers over my slight 5"5' frame by three inches. I'm constantly walking around in heels so I don't have to stretch to kiss her. She has a natural arc to her back that gives her that, "I am a god and everything I say shall be obeyed under punishment of sexual torture," air that leaves me as anything but an unwilling pawn in her giant game of chess.

Her cropped, black hair fell just beyond her jaw in a jagged, feathery line that gave it an appearance of being in a constantly disorganized organization and her bright blue eyes could bore holes in even the densest substance. Sometimes I feel like she is trying to set me afire with her gaze while all the while trying to put her fire out. Her long, slender fingers grasp at things like the softest of talons set at the end of the whitest, smoothest rope. And oh the joys that are her breasts... How can one spend a day not staring longingly at the buttons that just barely stay closed?

*Ahem* Excuse me, I tend to get a little... Poetic... when dealing with one such as she. In any case, here I was, laying in bed and staring at the steam pouring from the bathroom door which she always left conspicuously ajar. Perhaps to entice me? Perhaps because the heat of the scalding water and the heat of her own skin are too much to handle? Who knows...

After a loud, exuberant solo into her scrub brush she turned off the water and I hear the shower door slide close and the medicine cabinet open. After some rummaging she swings the cabinet closed and nudges her way through the small gap in the bathroom door. Her soft, wet skin is glistening in the morning light and there is a disposable razor between her teeth. She twists a towel around her hair and sits down on the arm chair in the corner -- well, actually sits across it -- and places her leg up on the wall. Running the razor up her leg she looks over at me and asks, "What are you doing still awake? Don't you have better things to do than stare at me?" Looking pleased at her work she nonchalantly runs the razor quickly over her mound with extreme precision. "I don't have all day. If there's something you need to say, can't you just do that? I have things to attend to." Shaking my head I wave a dismissing hand and roll over to catch some more sleep.

Can't she just admit she's gorgeous? After a disgruntled snort I hear noises that signify she changed which leg was resting on the wall and a few moments after that I hear the bedroom door click closed. I wonder where she goes at such an early hour...Nodding back off to sleep my dreams are filled with pictures of my tongue running rampant over her taunt stomach and creamy breasts and each and everyone had me up close and personal with the tribal tattoo on her inner right thigh. She woke me up a few hours later with a kiss and a casual,

"Be good, I'm off to work, Sav," and then she left. As the door was closed, I watched the tanned leather skirt she had on lose a battle with her firm, round ass and ride completely up to her waist.

Let's hope she notices before she gets to the office. Last time, while funny, was not very pretty. My hopes of catching a few more hours of sleep were crushed when my cell phone rang. Thinking it was her I jumped out of bed and made a mad dash to the hallway where I left it charging the night before. Forgetting Colt had left me with nothing but my socks on last night (though I don't really see how they didn't just shoot off) I slipped on the wooden floor of the hallway and made a home run slide into the couch about ten feet away. Just my luck. Knowing the weirdos I hang out with they are going to hang up after two rings and be angry at me for a week. Oh well it's their their loss. I'm awesome.

INT.SAVANNAH AND COLT'S APARTMENT -- HALLWAY -- LATE MORNING

Picking myself up I ran back down the hall to my phone and clumsily picked it up. The charger yanked free of the outlet and slammed into my ankle so my hello was more like a, "Ffffffffkkkkello?" Hopping up and down I was greeted.

"Why, hello Savannah. How are you today?" Stuttering for an answer I was cut off. "No, no, don't speak. It's quite all right, really, because I would rather not hear your whiney little complains of simple pain right now." Wow, whomever this is must be a total dick. That or this is someone's cruel way of saying they like me.

"Savannah, I'd like you to do me a favor. RUN!" Puzzled, I start to ask this mysterious prankster what the hell they mean but before I know it what appears to be I hear a whirring noise. Curious, I peak around the corner and -- THREE REMOTE CONTROLLED CARS WITH DILDOS TAPED ON?!?

Really.... Really? Holding the phone back to my ear I ask, "Is that really all you've got? I've dealt with bigger things in my sleep!" Laughing she hears a breathy voice behind her.

"You might want to turn around then, Sav." Spinning around I catch a quick glimpse of a tall, slim figure in a dark red overcoat wearing a cheesy plastic Phantom of the Opera mask. Before I could say anything, however, a huge metal bat swings out of nowhere and I can feel myself slowly losing consciousness. "I'm sure that was a first for you too..." is the last thing I hear as I slide down the wall.

INT. SAVANNAH AND COLT'S APARTMENT -- SPARE BEDROOM -- WALK IN CLOSET -- NIGHT

Groggy, I open my eyes and groan when I am faced with nothing but pure darkness and a few dim red lights to my left. The smell of patent leather tells me I am in one of our many closets and the fact that I couldn't move tells me it's the big one with Colt's shoes and suits. Rolling my neck I realize that it must be night time because the spare bedroom has slotted wood doors on the closet and the closet itself faces a large, bay window. It wouldn't be this dark in here unless it was nighttime. Or someone is trying to disorient me and put a sheet up...I closed my eyes and tried to think about where I was and what was going on. Is there anything in here that can help? What the hell do we store in here besides clothes anyway? It's huge!

I hear a slight rustling close by and I can only guess that it is my mysterious attacker. The closet doors slam open and all I can see is the tall, black outline of a person against what appears to be our red flannel sheets hung up like a make shift tent. How original... They can't even bring their own supplies! The figure moves closer and presses one of the red lights on the wall and I am blinded. Once my eyes adjust I find myself strapped naked to an examination table by a thick leather belt at east wrist and ankle. At least they took the time to take off my socks... On the wall is a large metal sheet full of holes like the kind you see in department stores with the racks hooked up only there's a lot of metal hooks and Velcro straps instead. Vibrators, cuffs, whips, chains, floggers, silk ties, you name it and I can see it.