Why Fight

Buzz and crackle of Otto's baton, closing on your chest. You look down at the baton, and back up to Otto. Zapped enough times now - back away. Feel for the wall. One hand holding your side where Boris already landed enough punches. Labored breath, push a hand back, and try to pull a leg under yourself. Get up damnit. Try to stand bracing against the wall. The athlete in you wants to fight back, muscles tense, hand clenching into a fist.

Boris steps forward, taking the little light that peeks around Otto. Otto reaches forward, baton inching towards your neck. Turn your head away, glaring up through hair that has fallen over your face. Buzz of electricity making your skin crawl. Otto waves his baton at you. You concede the few inches gained and drop back down. Harsh exhale. Otto steps back.

Handcuffs tossed on your lap. Look down, then up at Boris. Clench your teeth, close your eyes. Glaring won't do any good. Pick up the cuffs. You close one bracelet around your left wrist, stomach sinking with every click, cold metal against your skin. You look down at your hands and start to bring the other bracelet around to your right wrist.

"No." Boris shakes his head. "Around." He makes a circle with his finger and waits. "On knees."

Swallow again. Pride, ego... pointless. Otto waves the baton at you, waiting. You pull a leg under yourself and push yourself up to a kneeling position. Boris makes a circle with his finger, and waits, crossing his arms.

You turn around. Grit your teeth and reach your arms behind you. Reach for your right wrist with your left. Close the other bracelet around your wrist, feeling each click pull the metal closed. A hand shoves your head forward, grabbing the hair on top of your head to hold you in place. Head bowed, hair falling into your face again. Hot breath on the back of your neck. A hand holds your head down as the other closes each bracelet down another notch. No chance of slipping out. You tug anyway, testing for what give you have. Metal holds.

Hand moves under your chin to hold your head up. Struggle to get your chin free. Knees and ankles kicked open to a wider stance. Smell of leather as a collar is pulled tight against your neck. Involuntary gasp for air. Cinching down until barely a finger fits between the collar and your neck. Click of a lock behind you.

Cloth tight over your eyes and wrapped around. Your mouth forced open as the ends are brought forward and tied into a knot in your mouth.

Sharp metal against your neck. Muffled protests. Metal presses more firmly against your neck. You turn your head to shy away from the blade.

"You fight I cut." Breath stills in your throat. The smallest gesture of a nod, stomach sinking, remaining protests caught in the back of your throat. Metal pulls away from your neck. A quick motion and the back of your shirt is cut open. Another few slices and the shirt becomes no more than pieces of cloth to fall from your body. Moments later your pants share the same fate. Your head drops. You try to hold back a shiver as the cold air hits your skin.

Click of metal on metal at the front of your collar. You stumble a bit as you are pulled to your feet. It won't be long now.

ooo

I feel the moisture continue build between my lips as I finish watching the video again. I smile as I turn to look at you, kneeling in the middle of the room, waiting. You test the bonds for any give. Handcuffs replaced with leather at both your wrists and ankles. Wrists locked together behind you, chained by a short length to the back of your collar, holding your forearms high on your back, just under your shoulder blades. Ankles locked together, chained to your wrists by another length, leaving most of your backside unobstructed, but also keeping you firmly in position.

I see you listening, head cocked, turning occassionally at some imaginary sound. I smile again as I get up from our bed. You stop your struggling, head turned in my direction. I walk across the room, heels clicking on the hard floor.

Smell of latex as I take your chin in my hand. You wince as my thumb rests right where Boris landed the first punch. You struggle to pull your head away, but I hold you still, gripping you more firmly. I force your head slowly from side to side as I study at your face. I smile. Boris has tied quite the pretty bow in your mouth to close the knot.

"I really must thank Boris for these extra touches."

I let go. Your head drops. Ragged breaths through the gag, chest heaving just enough. We'll start soon. Just a taste. I pull the bow out enough to retie it to your collar, cloth still tight over your eyes. You open your mouth to stretch your jaw. I take your chin in my hand again, gripping firmly.

"Please..." you start. You always know just what to say. I touch a finger to your lips. I lift your head up as I lean in. I kiss you roughly, pushing my tongue into your mouth. You try to turn your head away, but I grab your hair to hold you in place. I push my tongue deeper, exploring your mouth. I push your own tongue out of the way with mine, moving where I please. Pleas muffled as I continue, pushing deeper and kissing you more fiercely. You concede and I feel your mouth relax. I hear your breathing change, more shallow breaths. I pull out and kiss you gently on the lips, before I retie the gag, knotting the bow tight in your mouth. Mustn't forget these touches.

Your chest rises and falls with ragged breaths. Your head drops. I see you swallow as you wait for what comes next. I take a step back. You hear the whoosh through the air right before the cat lands the first blow on your back. Moisture builds again as I get ready for the next swing. I take my time as I admire the first marks begin to develop.

It's my birthday after all and I've got all weekend to enjoy your present.