An Uncommon Bond

He led me over at sat me on the bed. As he rummaged through the bedside table, I gathered up some courage and asked, "What is your name?"

"Daniel. But you will call me Master." He said.

"Like hell I will." I snorted.

He threw a pair of black leather cuffs on the bed and what looked like black leather mittens, minus the thumb slot.

"You will. Or face the consequences." His voice was hard and deep. It made me lose my nerve so easily.

He pushed me down and rolled me onto my stomach. I grunted and yanked at the cuffs. "Stay still." He ordered as he straddled my back. With no bottoms on, I felt so exposed and vulnerable. He fussed with the cuffs and I felt them open. I eagerly pulled my arms to my sides and then stretched them all the way out in every direction. The joints felt like someone had poured acid on them. My wrists had angry red marks.

"Give them back." He commanded.

"Please, I promise, I'll behave. I just need to stretch my arms." I begged.

"And you can, but give me your wrists now."

I begrudgingly put them behind my back again, tears threatening to spill over. He slid my hands into the mittens. I had to form a fist to make them fit. They were soft and smooth. He cinched them closed, not painfully tight, but just snug enough that they wouldn't slide around. I heard the clicking of a lock. When he let go, I brought them in front of my face and took note of the tiny padlocks securing them to me. And the design of the mits was obviously meant to make anything that required fingers impossible.

He got off of me and locked the matching black cuffs around my ankles. Then he attached them together with a chain. I could only move my feet about two feet away from each other. He stood back, just watching me with an amused look on his face. I pulled my legs up beneath me and scooted to the other side of the bed.

Daniel rolled his eyes and simply followed me. His cool demeanor was getting to me. He just abducted me! Yet he was acting as if I was just an unruly, overreacting child!

"Arms out. Let's get these clothes off," he ordered.

"Fuck you. No," I spat.

Before I knew what was happening, he yanked my tangled hair (braids long gone) smacked me across the face, and wrapped his hand around my throat.

"You will not use that kind of language here and you will respect me. Now, hold out your arms and let me take off your shirt or I will grab a knife and cut it off," he threatened. A tear slipped out and I hiccupped with fear. I slowly moved my arms away from my body.

"Please, let me keep this on," I asked tearfully.

"No. You need to get used to being naked," he said, ignoring my protest. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving me completely exposed. My nipples were embarrassingly hard, but it was cold. And I was a naturally cold person anyway. I could never get warm.

"Much better," he smiled genuinely. I just growled and covered myself with my arms and the stupid gloves. They made me feel so clumsy and dopey.

"Ah ah ah, no. No covering. You'll learn all the rules soon, but one of them is that you are not allowed to hide yourself," he pulled my arms away. His were heavily muscular compared to my dainty "noodles," as my roommate liked to call them. I wondered if she was back at the house. How long had I been gone? Had she sounded an alarm? Did my parents know I was missing?

"I know it will be difficult to let yourself go and not be shy, so I will be tolerant, but I won't accept not trying to obey me at all," Daniel clarified.

I didn't acknowledge what he said, but instead asked in a flurry, "Where am I, Daniel? Why did you take me? How long was I asleep?"

"Settle down, Cleo. First of all, you are to call me Master, but I will let it slide since you are emotional. Second, I will answer some of your questions later. Not now," he responded. He reached out to stroke my hair but I batted it away with a gloved hand. I tried to get off the bed but he yanked my wrist, shoved me on my back, straddled me, and pinned my hands above my head.

I grunted and struggled and screamed at him as tears started to fall. "Let me go, you fucking prick. This is illegal! The police will find me and when they do they are going to lock your ass in jail for the rest of your perverted, stupid life," I yelled.

He stared at me harshly. His eyes were deep and dark, almost black. The hardness they held frightened me. I couldn't hold the stare. I looked away from him and yanked my wrists futilely.

"Keep going and I'll have to punish you. I don't want to do it so early in our relationship but I will if you make me." He warned. He sounded so confident, in control, and matter of fact. It pissed me off, greatly.

I met his gaze again with as much anger as I had in my body. It was boiling up, it wanted out. I wanted to punch him, kick him, and scream at him. Instead, I spat in his face.

The look of surprise was satisfying. I felt smug, but only for a moment.

Before I knew it, he got off me, sat on the edge of the bed, and yanked me over his lap with my ass up in the air. He held my hands behind me with his left hand and rested his right hand on my ass.

"I told you, I would punish you if you continued. I am going to spank you now, fifteen times. I won't make you count this time. Just remember, this is your fault. I did not want to do this." He said calmly as he stroked my soft cheeks. I squirmed and whimpered.

The first smack was more startling than painful. My right cheek felt hot. The second actually stung. He alternated, spanking harder each time, and in the same spot. I was crying and begging him to stop; it hurt too much. I had never been spanked or hit in any way, not even as a child.

After six, he stopped and said, "Nine more, pet. You're doing good." His soft tone and encouragement caught me off guard. He didn't sound angry at all. I didn't say anything, I just continued to cry and whimper.

The next four were rapidly delivered on the same spot over and over. The sting was intense. When his hand hit me, it cracked loudly. My ass stung like little needles were poking me and being shoved in my skin. I had stopped fighting. I was just crying and laying in his lap as he slowly but firmly delivered the rest. The last hit made me throw my head back and scream hoarsely.

He immediately started cooing and petting my ass gently as I sobbed. "That's a good girl, Cleo, it's all over."

He turned me around and cradled me in his arms, stroking my hair and shushing me softly until my crying turned into soft hiccups and slow breathing. We sat like that for a while. His embrace was warm. I couldn't help but focus on his heart beat. It was like a metronome, even and reliable, whereas mine was fast and uneasy. I tried to time my breathing to his beat to calm down.

After a little while, he stirred. He sat me up and asked, "Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

I nodded wearily. For now, I was a little battered. I was still raging on the inside, but I didn't want him to know. He smiled and set me on the bed. He got up and went to the bedside table again and pulled out a black leather collar. It had a shiny gold buckle and a gold D-ring to match. I didn't protest when he wrapped it around my neck, buckled it, and locked it on. He then attached a matching leash to the ring.

"You will crawl everywhere from now on unless you are going down the stairs or I tell you otherwise. Understand?"

My anger flared slightly at the command, but my stinging backside prevented me from saying anything. I just nodded.

"Good pet. But when I ask you a question, you will answer verbally if you can, and you will address me as Master. Now what do you say?" He tested me.

I couldn't look him in the eyes as I choked out, "Yes, Master."

"That's a good girl. Very good puppy." He was smiling. I wanted to retch at the praise. He pulled on my leash, snapped his fingers, and pointed to the floor at his right side. I reluctantly got off the bed and fell to my hands and knees where he pointed. He seemed pleased. I followed him to the stairs. I didn't know how I was going to go down on all fours but luckily he stopped me.

"Only when going downstairs may you walk. I don't want you falling face first." He said. Gratefully, I stood up. He went first and led me along. At the bottom, he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed lightly so I would go to my knees. He led me to a soft looking dog bed by the cracking fire.

"Puppies aren't allowed on furniture so you have this nice bed. Now just lay here while I get lunch ready." He said. I almost protested. Bear was on the couch earlier! But my ass was stinging still and it hurt more than my pride at the moment so I crawled onto the bed and laid on my side. He took off the leash and left me.

The fire was warm and my goosebumps started to go away. I stared into the flames. What was the date? How long had I been missing? What are the odds he's going to kill me?

All these questions filled my mind and more while I lay there, sulking. Bear came over and sat next to me in his own bed. He put his head by mine and licked my cheek. I sighed. At least there was a cute dog here. I found myself settling into a more or less relaxed state by the time "Master" announced that dinner was ready.

"Come, Cleo," he ordered and pointed to a spot next to the dining table. I started to stand but lost the nerve when I saw him standing there, arms crossed, eyes daring me to disobey. Fuck him, I thought as I slowly crawled to him. I wanted to gouge his eyes out and make him eat them.

My breasts swung freely beneath me and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball. Not that I didn't like being naked. Nor was I even self conscious. I just didn't like the idea of him getting off on it.

He patted my head when I reached him. "Stay." He turned back to the counter where the food was. When he turned his back, I stared daggers at him but stopped when he turned back around.

To my humiliation, he placed two bowls on the floor in front of me. They were purple with little white paw prints and bones all over them. Both of them had "Cleo" written on them as well. One was filled with water. The other had two divided sections. One was filled with steamed broccoli and the other was filled with what smelled like chicken in some kind of creamy sauce.

Despite the indignity, my stomach growled audibly and I could feel myself salivating.

"Eat up, girl. I'm sure you are hungry." He said as he set his own plate down at the table above me.

Suddenly, Bear appeared beside me, sniffing at my food. I instinctively shoved my body at him and pushed him away, but he didn't seem to mind. He just stared at me with a stupidly adorable face. God dammit he's so cute. He meandered over to his own bowls near the wall.

I looked up at Daniel. "Please, Da- I mean M-master. Can I just have a fork. I won't stab you." I asked. That last part was a lie. If I had the chance, I would totally stab him.

He sighed. "No, Cleo. You are a puppy. How do puppies eat?" He asked in a tone that made me feel like a toddler.

I grumbled at him but didn't answer.

"I asked a question." He said. I glared at him.

"You can answer me and eat or we can skip dinner and go right into training since you obviously need some obedience lessons." He challenged.

"No okay no, I'm hungry. Fine. Fine. Puppies eat with their face." I growled out. He didn't seem to like my tone but he just nodded and went back to eating.

I stared at my food. It did smell good. And who knows if he would feed me on a regular basis? So I slowly leaned down and drank some water and then moved on to the chicken. It was warm and tender and the sauce was yummy. It was better than what I usually made for myself. I slowly made my way through lunch until all of the broccoli and chicken was gone. I drank all of the water as well. Bear came back, hoping I had left some scraps. Daniel was taking longer to eat. He was reading something on his phone between bites and taking his good old time. I just sat on the floor, staring at my mittens.

Finally, he stood up and took his plate to the sink, and then my bowls. Once they were in the dishwasher, he came back over and clipped the leash on my collar.

"Heel," he ordered. He started walking and I followed meekly behind him down the hallway. He stopped in front of the only door on the right and opened it with a black key that hung around his neck. To say I was not prepared for the room he led me into was an understatement.

There were some normal things, like a bar and a black, leather couch, a coffee table, and a big TV. They were all on the right side of the room. But that was it. The rest of the room was a full blown dungeon. The walls were painted dark red and the lights were soft. There was a large bed on a black metal frame in the middle of the back wall. On both sides of the bed were large black cabinets. I did not want to know what was inside of them. On the wall opposite the bar and hang out spot, there were lots of contraptions that looks like good things for bondage. Metal and wood benches in different shapes were neatly placed there, waiting to be used. There were hooks and eyelets in all of the walls around the room, even on the ceiling. No doubt this place would be my torture.

Fear rolled in my stomach and I tried to back out of the doorway. But he held firm and started walking towards the bar. I had no choice but to follow.

There was a thick, felt mat lying on the floor next to one of the chairs surrounding the coffee table. He led me to it.

"Sit and stay." He said. I begrudgingly did so. He went to the bar and selected one of the many bottles of liquor and made himself a drink. Then he opened a small refrigerator and pulled something out. When he returned he set his glass down and opened a can of something.

"You won't normally be allowed to drink, but I figured you'd need something to help you relax." He said, as if he was so thoughtful.

"I don't drink." I said. A lie, of course. But I wanted as much control over myself as possible.

"You're lying, which is against the rules." He said. He did not sound particularly angry. He actually sounded patient. He held up a Seagram's strawberry daiquiri. Okay, I do like those. But it irked me that he knew that.

I sat up and reached up with my mitted hands. He pulled the drink out of my reach.

"Ah ah ah, no. I'll give it to you."

I rolled my eyes without thinking. That earned me a light slap on the face.

"Behave or I won't give you any at all."

I sighed and nodded my head. He lowered the drink to my lips and let me have a few sips before he pulled away.

"Now, before we start training, I will allow you to ask some questions. But you must be respectful and accept my answers or I will gag you and we can move on to training," he warned. I nodded and he gave me another sip. Then he took a drink of his own. It looked like a Manhattan. My dad drank those a lot, I suddenly remembered. My heart longed for him and my mom.

Daniel was comfortably sitting above me, waiting patiently for my question, probably unaware of my sadness.

I stared at him. Again, I was shocked by his normal appearance. His nose looked like he probably broke it once. He had good color in his cheeks. He had some wrinkles; he was obviously older than me, but not ridiculously so. Overall, a pleasant looking man. He certainly did not fit the rapist profile. But here I was. And there he was.

"Well, do you have any questions," he asked.

I stuttered a bit before I found my words, "Where are we?"

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you that?"

I shrugged and looked away.

"We are in the US. I didn't take you to another country. Maybe when you're more trustworthy, I'll be specific."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-seven." He said and took another sip of his drink.

"How long have you been stalking me?" I shifted on the mat, trying to get comfortable but avoiding touching him.

"I wouldn't call it stalking, sweetie. But I dunno, about six months?" He said. He wouldn't call it stalking? Watching me and documenting things about me wasn't stalking?

I felt tears in my eyes when I asked, "Why me?"

He gently stroked my hair and did not answer right away. He gave me another drink and then began saying, "You must not remember. That is okay. It was only a short meeting. You were my waitress one evening. You were very polite, always calling me and my friend 'sir.' He made a rather rude comment about your lovely figure and you blushed and stuttered." He brushed his finger on my lip. A shiver went down my back. "You were so demure and ladylike. I don't know if you were trying to get more tip money, but you got me hooked. You gave off the energy of a submissive at heart."

A few months ago, I worked at a local pub. I had quit maybe four months ago, though, so I could put more time into the environmental agency. I didn't remember him. I rarely remember anyone who I waited on. And men made flirtatious remarks all the time. I told him so.

"I know, baby. I don't blame you. Nonetheless, I obviously didn't forget you. I didn't decided right then and there that I would take you. I even thought about just courting you the traditional way."

"So why did you take me then? Why did you abduct me?" I asked with a bit of an edge in my voice.

"You're only 22, it would have been weird for a 37 year old to hit on you. And the more I learned, the more I felt that it was best if I did it this way. Now I don't have to worry about playing the social norms. And you can escape all of your problems."

His voice was so nonchalant. He spoke as if I should be grateful. I could feel my face heat up.

"What makes you think I would want any of this? What makes you think I needed to escape? What gives you the right to invade my privacy and kidnap me?! That's not what normal people do when they like someone! You ruined my-"

I received a slap on the face for my words, not overly rough, but shocking and stinging enough to stop my rant. I cupped my face and I felt myself crying.

"Hush. I won't take disrespect." He reached his hand up to cup my chin. I tried to shy away but he gripped it tight and lifted it. "I know you were deep in debt from school. I know you were barely making ends meet. I know your mom has been sick for a long time now, and that your father copes by drinking. The way I see it, you don't have to worry about those things anymore." He let go of my chin.

I sniffled, trying to ignore the brutal truth of my life. Yes, I had debt. But who didn't? And so what if my home life wasn't perfect? I still loved my family. "Can I have more to drink?"

"Manners, pet."

I huffed and swallowed a knot in my throat. "Can I please have more to drink, Master."

"That's a good girl. Of course." He let me drink my fill. I must have looked so stupid. At one point, it started to dribble down my chin and I reached up with my hands to try to hold the bottle, but stopped when I remembered I had those stupid mittens on.

I took a few moments before I asked my next question. I already knew the answer, but I still had to ask. "Will you ever let me go?"

He stared me right in the eyes and without missing a beat, responded, "No. You are my property now."

Tears filled my eyes as I asked another question. "Are you going to kill me?"

His eyes softened. "Absolutely not. And I don't want you to ever fear for your life. I said you are my property, which means I am going to take good care of you."

"But you are going to torture me, aren't you?"

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you might see it that way at first. But I promise it will not be the bad kind of torture, if you know what I mean."

"No, I do not know what you mean. Torture is torture. Pain is pain. Rape is rape." I argued. Not forcefully, but truthfully. He did not seem to mind.