Into the Wolf's Mouth Ch. 01-04

-1-

Room 314. Another dark, dingy hotel in another disgusting town. What in the hell am I doing here? I think as I walk down the dimly lit hallway, inhaling ungodly amounts of cigarette smoke and who knows what else.

It's the same as basically every other day. Checking into another room, another hotel. Crashing on the bed, a bottle of vodka in one hand, room key in the other. Trying desperately to not think of how disgusting these beds and linens are. Wondering where I'll go from here and how I'll manage to survive. When thoughts of him fill my head, it's physically painful to breathe. The liquor is the only thing that can soothe the sting and ease my racing mind.

I've been running from him for nearly three years now. No, not from him exactly. Just from the thoughts of him. If I can just make it to the next town, the next man, the next drink.... Maybe it will be enough. Maybe I can finally get some peace.

With my head spinning and stars forming, I drag my feet to the tiny bathroom and groan at the thought of taking a shower. I grab a towel and washcloth, starting the water and wishing I was anywhere else. Wishing I was still in his arms, cradled in his hands. I know that's just the loneliness talking though. There was honestly nothing good about that man and the absolute hell he put me through. As the tears threaten to spill down my cheeks, I swipe my left hand under both eyes, shaking my head and stepping into the lukewarm water.

As I step out of the small shower, I am feeling much more like myself. It's amazing how much that simple act can clear my head and remind me of exactly who I am and what I want. I smile to myself and throw my hair up in the damp towel. There's still a painful emptiness in my chest, tightening it until the breaths are a bit painful, but I refuse to let him drag me back down yet again. Resolved to have a better day, I grab my makeup and get dressed. Black jeans, black fitted tee, distressed leather jacket, natural makeup, with my shoulder length ruby hair cascading around my shoulders. By the time I'm walking out of the hotel door, I am ecstatic. I am ready to take on the world. I am ready to claim what is rightfully mine.

************

With it being Thursday evening, I step out onto the street and am not the least bit surprised to find it nearly deserted. Most people have work tomorrow and families to tuck in at home. Bed time stories to read. Baths to give. Memories to make. I lightly shake my head to clear the thoughts and start walking, destination unknown.

I find myself in a 50's style diner with a hamburger, fries, and a strawberry shake in a matter of an hour. My buzz is wearing off now. My head feels a bit foggy. As I take a sip from the milkshake, I glance up and see the most gorgeous human I have ever laid eyes upon. He is tall, fit, jet black hair down nearly in his eyes, baseball cap turned backwards. I can feel his energy from across the diner. It's damn near electric.

Watching his jaw move as he takes another bite, the way his hands move, the tattoos on his forearms flexing. Holy fuck! I start sputtering as a chunk of strawberry comes in contact with my uvula, nearly throwing the cup to the floor. God damnit, you idiot! I slap down a $20 bill on the table, still trying to regain my composure, grab my jacket, and stomp outside as quickly as possible. Leaning against the next building to catch my breath, I try to calm myself down and not jump out in front of the next moving car in the street just to end my embarrassment. How fucking stupid are you?

Ugh, it's no wonder he left you. You can't even manage to drink a milkshake without nearly killing yourself! SO embarrassing. I'm trying to drown out the self-hate but it's difficult today, especially after making a total idiot out of myself. Running my hands through my freshly dyed hair, I push off the building and head out to find my hotel again. I head down a dark alley, thinking it's a shortcut back to the hotel.

After about twenty minutes of walking, I turn down a pitch-black alleyway. Well, not truly pitch-black. There is a small light on the right wall, about halfway down. How strange, I think to myself, my feet leading me directly to it.

There's a solid metal door, but it doesn't look like it would be functional anymore. It's rusty around the edges, with cobwebs in the top corners. Looking around, I don't see any clues as to what this door might lead to. I try the knob this time but find that it's locked. Disappointed, I shimmy it a bit, just to be sure, before letting it go and continuing on my way. When I finally turn the corner, I see the neon sign for the hotel a little way ahead. Pulling the vodka from my pocket yet again, I'm determined to drown my sorrows and kill the embarrassment. I gulp it down like it will fix all the broken pieces in my soul.

************

After two days of self-pity and a fuck of a hangover, I pull myself together and head back out on the town. I find myself in the same little diner again after taking in some of the sites. I had fully intended to avoid this place like the plague, but I'll admit I'm curious. Was he just passing through? Plus, that was the best burger I've had in a long time and I'm famished. I haven't eaten since the milkshake incident.

The waitress, her tag says Cindy, is sweet as tea in the deep south. She brings my burger, cheese fries, and Coke in record time. The diner is empty today, minus an older couple at the bar and a mom and son at another table, tucked into the corner. No handsome stranger in sight today. I eat quickly, pay my tab, and head out the door, just as the sun sinks down behind the buildings across the street. I put my earbuds in and head off in the opposite direction of the hotel. I want to see what else there is in this town.

I've been walking in circles for hours now. It's completely dark out and I'm getting sketched out a bit. It's eerily quiet, even with just one earbud in now. The music helps me keep my sanity though. My mind is racing with unease and I can't seem to recall which way I came from anymore. I feel like I've been here a thousand times yet never seen this spot before in my life. This is what you get for wanting to go exploring, genius. Now you have no choice. Good luck not dying tonight.

Ignoring my thoughts, I turn down a dark street. Within seconds, I recognize it. This is the alleyway with the weird door, except there's no light on tonight. Weird. At least I sorta know where I am now though. Maybe I can find my way back to the........

************

"What the actual FUCK?!" I scream as soon as my mouth is uncovered. "Who are you and where the fuck am I?!" I still can't see anything. All I can smell is cigarette smoke and sweat. Maybe some blood. Can you even smell blood? I take a quick mental note of the smells and sounds. I hear ice in a glass, music in the background, heavy shoes (boots maybe?) against the floor. Men talking in the distance. Where the fuck am I?

I don't hear him move, but I can feel his presence in the room, coming closer. A finger touches my face, starting from my left temple, down my cheek, across my lips. All I can feel is pure rage. Blinding hatred. Just when I open my mouth to repeat my questions, his hand is iron around my throat. He cuts off my protests in an instant. There's no doubt this man is in control here and I am helpless. Well, not entirely.

I slam my knee up into his groin, rolling to my right as he lets out a groan and releases my neck. As soon as my weight shifts, I realize how stupid this was. My hands are still tied, still blindfolded. This is bad.

What the.... Is he actually laughing? Oh no no no. Fuck.

His hand is back around my throat, making my head swim. I can feel his glare burning holes through my head, even though I can't see anything. I am in so much trouble, I think to myself before my ears start ringing and everything fades away.

************

When I peel my eyes open against the pain in my head, I'm surprised to actually be able to see. No more blindfold. The room is dark and silent, the only noise coming from me moving around to get a better look. Why am I on a bed? Why am I handcuffed?! My heart rate picks up its pace until I remember what happened before I blacked out. I slump back against the comforter and release a sigh I didn't know I was holding in.

"What's the matter, princess?" I hear a light chuckle from the corner of the room. His voice sounds lethal. Deep and smoky. It would be hot as fuck under normal circumstances. Of course you're not alone. He isn't that stupid. A small table lamp blazes to life, illuminating the corner. He is sitting in an oversized chair, hands folded in his lap, a small smirk on his lips.

I turn my head to the opposite side, closing my eyes and wishing I was anywhere but here, wherever here is. How in the world am I going to get out of this mess? Feeling completely lost, I turn back over and look at him, making eye contact for the first time. His steely grey eyes are enough to make my breath catch in my throat. They're incredible. Beautiful yet haunted.

"Where am I? And why am I here?" I manage, not even expecting him to answer.

"Where you are is not important, nor is how you got here. You are here with me now, and you will remain here." His deep voice is full of confidence, almost arrogance.

"The actual fuck?!" I scream at him. "There's no way I am staying here. You don't own me, you cocky son of a bitch!"

He smirks at my words, folding and unfolding his hands rhythmically. He waits for me to finish my tirade before he continues. "As I was saying, you will remain here. In time, you will come to enjoy this place. Here, you can explore your wildest desires with no judgement or ridicule. You will be happy here, just give it time. There is nothing off limits, nothing too out there to bring to the table for discussion. I will do everything in my power to make your fantasies come true, as well as my own. In time, you will submit to me on your own. Do you understand?"

I roll my eyes. This is some bullshit. It looks like I'm out of options, so there's no sense in arguing at this point. "Can you at least let me out of these cuffs? They're killing my wrists," I say to him, giving in for the moment.

-2-

"So, what's your name?" I ask out of pure boredom. Sitting cross legged in the bed, I keep my gaze locked on him. He really is incredibly gorgeous.

"Sean."

"Okay, Sean. Why me?"

"First, you will refer to me as sir. Second, why not you?" he answers as if this is the most boring conversation he's ever had.

"Probably because I'm ordinary and entirely average. You could have picked any other girl from the street. I'm nothing special so I don't understand," I say honestly. I'm curious as to why he picked me out of everyone. "Sir," I add sarcastically.

He smirks and folds his hands in his lap again, waiting to make sure I'm finished speaking. "You are anything but ordinary, love. Put yourself down again and see what happens. It absolutely will not be tolerated in my presence. You will only speak of yourself highly, no exceptions. Understood?"

I nod my head slowly, not trying to piss him off. I do not want to be handcuffed to this bed again. I want to get answers. The only way to do that is to give him what he wants, even if it is nauseating.

"Now that that's been established, why were you in that alleyway last night? I saw you there before as well. What's the fascination with that place?" he questions.

"I don't know. I ended up there by accident originally. I was walking around aimlessly, trying to clear my head. Last night, I was out exploring the city and ended up lost again. I have a terrible sense of direction honestly. But when I found the door again, I was overtaken by curiosity. Why would there be a random door in an alley? Where did it go? It seemed super secretive, like an old speakeasy or something."

He chuckles at the last part. "A speakeasy? Seriously?"

I shrug my shoulders. "It was the first thing I thought of when I found it. You've got to admit it is a bit odd and out of place."

"You have a point there. I guess you figured out that it isn't quite that though, right?" he says with eyebrows raised.

"Wait. What? That's where I am?" It makes sense now. I was standing at the door when I was grabbed last night. At least that gives me an idea of where I'm at, even if I did end up back here by total accident.

He smiles as the realization sets in on my face. "Yes, ma'am. You happened to stumble upon my residence. I prefer my privacy, so when you were right outside my door twice, I needed to figure out why that was. I didn't really count on it being because you got lost honestly."

"What can I say? It's one of my better traits," I say with an eyeroll.

"Okay, smartass. Keep it up," he taunts. One corner of his lips curls slightly, while he narrows his eyes. He looks dangerous, like there's something dark and untamable just below the surface.

"No, thank you. I choose life. At least for now," I say, grinning brightly at him, feigning innocence.

"Good girl. That's definitely the safer choice," he growls. "I am going to go get some food. Behave while I'm gone, and I'll answer more of your questions when I return."

Ugh, great. Now I get to sit in this boring room by myself. There's not even a window in here! There's a book on the nightstand, and it's the only thing even halfway interesting in the room. I scoot over and pick it up, glancing at the cover. There is a blurred out red flower, cupped in delicate hands. Female hands. "The Art of Sex?" I toss it back to the nightstand, disgusted. Who would want to read about that? That makes sex sound like work or science or some combination. Shaking my head, I look around the room again. There really is absolutely nothing in here. I sigh and lay back on the bed, exhausted.

************

I must have drifted off, as I'm startled when I hear the door creak open. I rub my eyes and focus on the door. Sean quickly closes and locks it tight. No chance of escape at the moment. I really need to come up with an escape plan, I think. There are no windows and only the one door. I'm sure it's guarded too.

"Hungry? I brought tacos! And some cheap tequila?" he sounds uncertain for the first time.

"What if I don't like tacos? Or tequila?" I question with eyebrows raised.

"More for me then, I guess," he says as he shrugs his broad shoulders. "Doesn't hurt my feelings any."

"Hey, hey, hey," I squeal, scooting across the bed as quick as possible. "Save some for me! I didn't say that I don't like them!" He smirks as I plant myself on the very edge of the bed. I reach over and pluck the taco out of his hand, right as he opens his mouth to take the first bite.

"What the fuck? Give me back my taco, you brat!" he yells, pushing himself out of the chair and taking a step toward me. I stare at him for a moment, not sure if he is being playful or completely serious. I give him a fake pout and jump backwards on the bed before taking a huge bite of it.

"My taco now, loser!" I squeal again as he launches himself onto the bed. My free hand is suddenly restrained with his, and he's reaching for the taco with the other hand. I squirm to keep him from reaching it, but there's not much I can do with only one hand and a giant on top of me. He's chuckling now, so I assume I'm safe and he has a decent sense of humor.

"Here," he says, as he takes the food from me. "Open up, princess." His whole demeanor changes as he brings the taco to my lips. I take a bite hesitantly, not sure what's going on. "Now the rest is mine," he grins as he devours the rest of it and returns to his chair.

I lay on my back, hands on my stomach, trying to breathe regularly. Holy hell. What just happened? I shake my head and raise up. "You stole my taco," I say with as much of a grin as I can muster. I feel lightheaded and my heart is pounding inside my chest.

"No. I stole MY taco back, you thief," he chuckles as he picks up a shot glass. "Tequila? I've got salt and a lime as well, if you please." He throws back a shot, barely wincing. No salt. No lime. What kind of monster is this guy?

"Sure. But with salt and lime, please. I also want a taco of my very own, master." I roll my eyes, then glance at him. Something dark flashes across those gorgeous eyes, like storm clouds brewing. It's menacing, yet has a strange luring effect. I want to see them up close. In just a couple blinks, the storm is gone and Sean regains composure. The mask slips back into place.

After three or four shots and several more tacos, I'm feeling a bit more relaxed. I've sprawled out across the bed, watching him from the corner of my eye. He seems to be in deep thought now. It's probably best not to disturb him, but my curiosity is getting the best of me.

"Soooooo.......... What exactly am I here for?" I decide to ask the question that's been burning in my brain. "Also, I want another shot."

"What do you mean? I already told you what you're here for. You're here to submit to my fantasies and revel in your own. It's pretty simple really," he says as he fills the shot glass again. "When you decide you are ready, we will begin our lessons. From there, we can talk more about exploration and what it is that you truly desire. You'll find that I'm a very accommodating man."

"Lessons? What lessons?" I narrow my eyes, not liking the sounds of this.

"Do your ears not work? You obviously need training in being submissive. Being a submissive actually. Much different. There is extensive training to be done when you are ready." He pauses to gauge my reaction and wait for any objections. When he is satisfied that there are no current objections, he continues. "I am interested in your darkest and deepest fantasies, if you are willing to share them with me. The ones you're afraid to bring to light."

"Another shot, if you would be so kind?" I'm starting to feel buzzed and really should hold off on anymore liquor. It kills the nerves though, and that's exactly what I need right now. This conversation is about to get intense. I down the shot and hand the glass back to Sean. "I don't want to share my fantasies, but I do want to know what you expect of me. If I am going to be stuck here indefinitely, I might as well know what I'm supposed to be doing. Including any fantasies you have that I'll be expected to participate in." I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks and I'm not sure if it's the liquor, anger, or a tad bit of lust. Likely a combination of the three.

He rises from his chair, walks to the bed, and positions himself beside me, reclined against the wooden headboard. "If we are going to talk, I might as well get comfortable. Sounds like I'm going to be here a while," he shrugs, answering my unspoken question. I can feel the heat radiating from him. Lust is definitely a part of the heat. "Is there something in particular that you have questions about?"

"Actually, yes. What I have on is my only outfit. That seems a bit problematic," I say.

"Well, obviously you'll just be naked all the time," he says completely straight faced. When I start to object, he chuckles. "We will get you some clothes. I will choose your outfits for our training sessions. At other times, you will be allowed to choose your own clothes. You will not be allowed to wear anything risqué or any part of our training outfits outside of that room. The only exception to that will be your collar. It will be worn at all times except when showering. Understood?"

"Yes. Understood," I say sheepishly. I'm not sure how I feel about having my clothing picked out for me.

"Yes, what?" he demands, using a stern voice for the first time.

"Yes, Sean?" I question, genuinely confused.

"No. The correct response is 'yes, sir'," he chides. His eyes are locked on mine, holding my gaze.