Springtime

A cool spring breeze gently lifted the curls from my brow as I walked from my car to my front door. It had been a tiring day at work, and I was especially exhausted because of the high-endurance partying I had done the night before. I unlocked the door and tossed my keys on the couch. My purse and shoes were shaken off and discarded lazily on the floor. As I walked to the study to quickly check my e-mail before a shower, I stripped off my shirt and flung it in the bedroom towards the general direction of the hamper. Wriggling my skirt down to my ankles, I bent over at my desk and started up my computer.

As I straightened, my back struck something warm and unyielding. Before I could register my situation, a man's arms slid over my body, one across my shoulders, pressing lightly upwards into my neck, the other snaking around my stomach and pinning my arms to my sides. He began to nuzzle the side of my neck and tug on the hoops adorning my ear with his teeth in a way I have come to find familiarly exciting over the past few months. I knew immediately that it was no stranger who held me captive. My recognition, however, did little to assuage my panic.

"Hello, Sara," he said darkly in my ear, his voice rough with restrained anger and lust.

"Hello, Sir," I answered meekly.

"You behaved very badly last night at the party," he growled, his arms gripping me harder.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir," I said in a small voice. I knew the apology wouldn't do any good, but I also knew it had to be made.

"You disappeared for over and hour," he said sternly.

"I told you!" I protested, my voice rising in defense, "I snuck off with Brittany to have girl talk! She's having troub- "

His forearm pressed into my throat as he growled wordlessly in my ear, and my plea was cut off abruptly.

"You didn't tell me until AFTER you came back. I was worried sick about you the entire time you were gone."

"I'm sorry, Sir," I repeated hopelessly.

He sighed disappointedly and released his clutch on me, leaving only his hand on the back of my neck. His fingertips pressed into the vein on the side of my throat as he tightened his grip and pushed me through the house and into the kitchen. His backpack was sitting in the far corner and a chair stood a lone vigil in the middle of the floor. He bade me to walk forward until my shins were against the seat of the chair.

"Get up on your knees," he said calmly.

Complying, I knelt on the seat, my chest and stomach pressing into the back of the chair.

"Stay put," was all he said. I gripped the top of the backrest for balance and settled into the position. He walked off without meeting my pleading gaze and he hunkered down to rummage through his bag. I sighed and let my head drop. He returned to stand beside me, ran his fingers roughly through my hair, then tied a thin black cloth over my eyes. I winced as a few strands of my curls were caught in the knot and pulled.

"You know better," he lectured, "than to wander off without telling me where you're going. I try to protect you, and I expect you to make my job easy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I whimpered.

"Now Sara," he continued, winding a soft cord around my body as he spoke, "I have to find a way to make sure you remember how important your safety is to me." He continued to bind me until my body was secured to the backrest and my calves were tied to the seat. My hands were fastened behind my back and my ankles were tied together.

The cramping in my shoulders began almost immediately. I thought fondly of how he would rub them later, kissing me lovingly, but never apologizing. His hand dug into the top of my shoulder, one of his fingertips straying close enough to my neck to put just a little pressure on my throat. Once he had me steadied, the spanking began.

He usually starts off slowly, barely hitting me, giving me time to work into the rhythm, but not tonight. The first crack of his hand on my bottom made me shriek and I was glad to have his hand bracing me. Several blows landed quickly thereafter, and the soft slapping sound of his hand against my panties was easily muted by my startled cries. I writhed in the ropes which held me fast, but though the chair squeaked in protest, I managed no actual movement.

I gasped in short whimpering breaths when he finally stopped, the pain in my joints suddenly flaring up as I released muscles I didn't even know I had tensed.

"You need to shut the hell up..." he muttered as he stomped away. A moment later, his fingers were roughly pinching the back of my jaw, forcing my mouth open. I felt a wad of rough dry cloth against my tongue and lips, and heard the cloth rubbing against itself as he tied it tightly around the back of my neck. Gagged, bound, and blind, I started to loose the familiar sense of comfort and excitement. Fear filled my heart and I had to fight back true panic.

"I think you don't appreciate the danger you are always in because you don't understand it," he said firmly. "I don't think you know how weak you are, Sara."

With these ominous words he slid my underwear down my thighs. Loud cracking smacks echoed around the kitchen as he spanked me. I could tell he had let go of his restraint, he was angry enough to be unafraid of hurting me. My throat soon became dry and raw as I screamed into my gag. I pulled away from his steadying hand on my shoulder, throwing all my weight against his strength and against the ropes holding me to the chair, but I couldn't do anything to get away.

He continued to spank me until the skin had gone numb and the rhythm of the slaps had become hypnotic. I stopped struggling and slumped quietly against the backrest, each blow of his hand plunging me deeper into my meditative state, only gasping with relief when the punishment finally ended. He began speaking to me, but I couldn't pay attention to what he said. He noticed this, and a quick slap to my cheek immediately grabbed my focus.

"I said, do you want to stand up?" he repeated. I nodded dumbly and murmured through the gag. He slid off the blindfold, ripping out the hair that had been caught in the knot. He then untied the gag and as I began trying to moisten my lips, I tasted the slight tang of blood. I could feel the release of each knot as I came free from the chair. Finally, all that remained bound were my hands. He pulled up my panties carefully, taking pains to adjust them just right. He then stood me up and attached a cold metal chain around my waist, securing it in place with a small keyed lock in the shape of a heart. It rode delicately on my hips and chilled the skin there.

Attaching a leash to the chain, he gave two sharp tugs and I started moving forward. He walked in front of me, leading me back to the bedroom. As we passed the full-length mirror on the wall, I caught a glance of my disheveled reflection. My black panties accented the red hand-shaped welts on my ass perfectly. He detached the leash and let it fall to the floor, then, turning to face me, drew out his knife. My eyes went to the blade that I knew was sharpened to a ridiculous edge.

Softly, he said "You know what to say if you get too scared, right baby?"

I nodded and softly replied, "Yes, Sir," without shifting my gaze from the knife. Suddenly, he was advancing on me. I backed up quickly, groping behind me with my bound hands. He was quickly upon me, pulling me towards the bed. My balance, already precarious, was taken away as he threw me onto the mattress face-first. He followed me onto the bed and caught me mid-wriggle as I tried to get away. When he had secured his arm around my waist, he let out a frustrated "Stay PUT." I could hear the sound of rope being cut, and I stayed perfectly still as my hands were freed. Gratefully, I let my aching arms fall to my sides. With a hand on my hip he rolled me onto my back and straddled my stomach.

Knife still in his clutch, he leaned forward and rested both of his forearms on either side of my head. He kissed me deeply, his teeth occasionally pressing into the soft skin around my mouth making me reflexively cringe despite my enjoyment of his kiss. As he withdrew and sat up he again held the knife where I could see. Smiling, he folded it up and put it on the nightstand with murmured promises to never hurt me, never hurt his precious girl.

"And you are precious to me..." he said, stroking my cheek which was still bore his bright pink fingerprints. I knew he was only lulling me into defenselessness, but I still relaxed under his tender administrations. Reaching a hand around my back, he unsnapped my bra and slid it off my arms. Lost with pleasure, I closed my eyes as his warm hands cupped my breasts and his teeth left tiny red marks on my chest. Gently, he lifted my wrists over my head and pressed them into the pillow in a gesture more symbolic than forceful. I sighed into his kisses and actually started think he had been overwhelmed with kindness for me.

With no forewarning of intent, his grip tightened and his fingers sank into my wrists while his teeth began pressing relentlessly into my lips. I gave a pleading moan and tried to slide my hips out from under his weight. He allowed me to struggle for a moment before using my own efforts to flip me onto my stomach. Positioning himself between my legs, he lifted up my butt and pulled down my underwear. He spanked me a few times, quickly and sharply, before pressing his hardened cock against my upturned slit and rubbing it there tauntingly. Every motion I made was met with a disapproving slap on my ass or thigh, and I finally just lay there, tense and pleading.

When, at last, he slid into me, my tears started anew with gratitude. I steadied myself and met his raw rhythmic thrusts. His hands clawed at my hips and back or wound into my hair as he took me. Pushing down on my back or grabbing my arms, he adjusted my body to suit him. I shifted and complied and behaved very well until he found the perfect angle to stab into me painfully with each thrust. I started to scream and tried to readjust myself, but I had little success.

As I continued squirming and begging, I could feel his orgasm working to a climax. Muttering quickly that he promised to be tidy, that I shouldn't worry, he pulled out and his cum exploded onto the curves of my ass. He was soon wiping me clean with a nearby t-shirt, even though I never mind his cum on my skin. When he was satisfied that he had removed the smears of his pleasure, he gently pushed me down onto the mattress and laid down beside me, wrapping his arms and even a leg around my body. The grip he held on me didn't loosen as he drifted off to sleep. I eventually slept too, feeling perfectly safe.