Tuesday

His hands slide down your shoulders and he turns you around and inspects his work. He tugs on the loops in place and you can feel the rope tighten and release. Then he grips it firmly with his fingers and twists it hard and abruptly the rope tightens drastically around your neck. You squirm and arch up on your tip toes to try and take the pressure off and catch a breath.

He holds you like that for a long forty seconds, and then releases the tension on the rope. Air returns to you and you gasp it in. You emit a little whining whimper and try not to shake. You look up into his eyes and they're hard merciless and gray, and he's simply measuring you the way a butcher measures a slab of beef.

'So let's talk about your defiance girl.' He says calmly. He's less angry now that you're angry, bound and helpless. You sense that your frantic demeanour is also setting him at ease.

'I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to defy-URRRK!' He twists the rope around your neck again and drags you up on your toes as you struggle for breath again.

'No excuses. I was very clear on what I expected from you. You were late and your cunt is not shaved. You had ample time to prepare for both of those things.' He snarls into your ear.

He grips the rope and pulls it slightly higher and you make choking sounds as you balance on the very tips of your toes. Abruptly, he releases the tension on the rope and you fall to you knees, retching and gasping as your chest heaves. His hand moves from the rope to your hair and pulls your head back.

'Now you are going to explain yourself to me you little cunt, and you are going to do so now.' He snarls at you.

You look up at him, chest heaving and throat burning. Your shoulders throb, your feet are starting to hurt from the shoes he's bound you in.

You have no power here at all. None. He's stripped it all away from you as easily as he took your clothes. He's unwilling to take excuses and he punishes you whenever you try to struggle or fight back or be defiant.

This would probably be the most terrifying day of your life if your body hadn't dropped into a state of extreme arousal from the binding and manhandling. Your mind spins, unsure with what to say to him. Should you lie to him? Will lying make it worse?

'I... I didn't think... I.... was coming back sir. I didn't know.' Your voice sounds tiny, like a little girl

'And yet here you are whore. So what happened?' He drops to one knee and hooks his free hand on the rope coiled at your throat. It tightens slightly in, the threat implied in the action obvious. If he doesn't like your answer, you'll be fighting for air.

'I just... I ...I ... I...' you stammer.

Good God this is intense. Your heart feels like it is literally going to pound out of your chest.

'Answer me!' He snarls into your face.

'I wasn't coming back! Ever!' You squeal loudly.

'And yet here you are.'

'Yes sir.'

'So what happened?'

'I started to... to think about what you did to me. And.... And the things you made me do... and then I started to have dreams about it. And... and...'

'So when did that all start?'

'Sat-Saturday. I started on Saturday.'

'So... you decided to not come back... which was actually a smart decision girl.... And then changed your mind on Saturday.'

'No sir... I didn't decide to come back until Sunday. I started having the thoughts and the dreams on... Saturday.'

'All right. That actually makes a little sense. You decided this was too much for you and you weren't going to come back.'

'Yes sir.'

'And what made you decide that you weren't coming back?'

'My husband wanted to... to...'

'Fuck his wife?'

'Yes sir.' You're blushing now. Why are you blushing?

'And that made you want to not come back?'

'Well, not that, I just was trying to not...' You trail off, afraid to tell him what happened next.

'And you came while he was fucking you.' He finishes the sentence for you.

You pause for a long time. He's looking right through you and getting irritated at your lack of answer. You can't bring yourself to speak until he starts to tighten the rope around your neck.

'Yes! Yes sir! I tried not to... but he knows... he knows me...'

The rope loosens around your neck and you pant audibly. He's still eyeing you critically, but he doesn't seem quite so angry now.

'So he made you come, and then you decided not to come back?'

'I decided that the next morning sir. I just... I was happy. I didn't think I'd need to come back.'

'I see. But you changed your mind on Sunday.'

'Yes sir.'

'So the question really is... did you obey any of the orders I gave you?'

You cringe. And then you regret it as you see his eyes harden.

'So that would be a no then. You broke every rule.'

You scrabble around for words and can't find any of them. He didn't even give you a chance to lie or evade, he just asked the question and let your face and body answer him.

'Yes sir.' You whisper.

He releases the rope and your hair and stands up. You wobble on your knees and struggle to maintain your balance. He doesn't look angry; he just looks deep in thought for a moment. For some reason that pose is even more intimidating to you. It's like he's calculating his next step.

He turns back to the table and pulls out a gold key from his pocket. It slides into the padlock and releases the lock with a quiet click. You watch him as he rustles around in your belongings.

'What are you doing sir?' For some reason this is deeply alarming to you.

He pulls your cell phone from the box, then closes the lid and closes the lock over the latch. Calmly, he walks back to you and then kneels in front of you. The cell phone springs open in his hand and he smiles a warm smile at you.

Your blood chills.

'What's your husbands name whore?'

'Please sir... please don't. Don't do that.' You can feel all the blood draining from your face and your stomach knots up.

'You don't have to give it to me. I can just go through your contact list until I find him. I'm sure that there are all kinds of people on this list that would be extremely interested...'

'DON'T! PLEASE DON'T! I'LL DO ANYTHING!' You scream at him.

He looks at you and then snaps the phone shut. He slips it around and then shoves it into his back pocket.

You both stay still for a moment, but you know your life just irrevocably changed.

You can't decide if this is good or bad. It's probably bad, but that doesn't explain the throbbing need that you feel in your abdomen and pelvis right now.

'I feel that you lack commitment whore. I do.'

'I don't sir...'

'SHUT. UP.' He growls at you. And you do.

'This is what we are going to do whore. We're going to go for a little walk back to my place and I'm going to use your body in every god damned depraved way I can think of. You're going to spread your legs wide and keep your mouth shut unless it's wrapped around a cock. If I sense one fucking IOTA of resistance, I'm calling your husband to come and get you. Exactly like this.'

You cringe again. You don't know how your husband would take that. It would be a savage betrayal to him. Your marriage, your family, all of it might crumble. You don't know if you could bear that.

Why couldn't you just stay away? What's wrong with you?

'Yes sir.' You whisper.

'I'm not done. All the rules are back in place. You don't have any orgasms but the ones I give you. Your body is available to your husband at any time. Am I clear you insubordinate little fuckpuppet?'

'Crystal clear sir.' You say in a tiny voice.

'Splendid.' He snarls, and then he reaches down and pulls a loose strand of rope from the coil around your neck. He tucks it and adjusts it and after a couple of moments of fiddling he has a little rope leash to guide you with.

You struggle back to your feet when he tugs on the rope and then he frowns at you.

'Stand up on your toes.' He orders. You do.

He kneels beside you and places a hand on your leg. His fingers are hard and icy and your skin prickles with goose bumps. You feel him twist the metal bracelet around your ankle and it tightens with a couple of clicks. He repeats the process with the other bracelet and it locks tight around your ankle as well.

'You can relax now.' He says and you start to ease your feet down to the floor. The metal bracelets bite into your Achilles tendon however, and you wince and then stand back up on your toes. You look over at Padraic with confusion and he smiles grimly at you. The bracelets force you to keep your foot extended and almost in a permanent en pointe position.

'Now you're ready for a walk.'

You shiver. Taking a walk has never sounded torturous before.

Padraic gives the rope around your neck a gentle tug and leads you towards the back of the room full of sadistic toys. He opens a door that leads down a hallway illuminated with only a flickering light bulb and then out to a metal door. You're so focused on staying on your toes and keeping up with him that you're literally out the door and standing outside of the building in a back alley.

The door slams shut behind you. The lock clicks with finality.

You're bound; naked, wearing bondage shoes and standing in a dirty back alley with a man you've apparently just pissed off intensely. Your head swivels in panic as you look around with wide terrified eyes. You desperately want to protest, and you know that you can stop this at any time.

But he'll call your husband to come and pick you up. You can't even bear the thought of inflicting that on him.

This is too much. Your eyes grow watery and a tear slips down your cheek.

And Padraic doesn't seem to notice. If he does notice, he clearly doesn't care. He calmly walks down the alley with your leash in his hand. You struggle to keep up with him as you focus on nimbly walking over garbage and refuse.

Your toes and calves are starting to throb.

You get about two blocks down a back alley and he finally notices you sniffling and whimpering as you suffer just trying to keep up to his pace. He stops for a moment and let's you catch up to him. You struggle to stay on your toes and try to fight back the tears that are threatening to flow.

'Do you need a break?' He asks calmly.

'Please.' You whimper.

'Kneel. We can take a moment.'

Gratefully, you squat down and clumsily take the weight off your toes as you collapse onto the ground. A moan of relief escapes your lips and before you can stop it you whimper a feeble complaint.

'I d...don't know if I can do this.' The words come out hard, and your throat feels constricted as you struggle to hold it together.

'You don't have to. I can call him right now.'

'Please don't do that sir. Please!' You say with a little shudder.

'Then get up. Enough mewling.'

You struggle back to your feet with difficulty. Your arms bound behind you and the sadistic shoes locking your foot into a full extension made just standing an exercise in determination and pain tolerance. Finally, you stand back up on trembling legs and he nods and begins walking again.

You barely get forty feet and someone calls out to him. To your horror he stops and you cower behind him.

'Paddy boy. Can you spare a few bucks lad?'

A battered homeless person sits at the end of an alley. A couple of empty bottles roll on the cardboard beside him. He sits in his own filth and you can smell him from where you are.

'Have you eaten today Roy?' Padraic asks and he saunters down the alley.

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. Please don't let him see you like this.

'Jus' some eggs and toast this morning down at the mish.' Roy says with a voice that sounds like barbed wire and gravel, and then he breaks into a coughing fit. Padraic watches him for a moment and then reaches into his pocket.

'If I give you a five Roy, will you eat?'

Roy hacks and coughs a little more, but he nods his head. Padraic leans forward and hands him the bill and Roy smiles at him.

'Thank you Paddy. You're a good guy.'

He frowns as he spots you. You shiver. The disgusting, stinking homeless guy is eyeballing you now.

'Izzat a new girl Paddy? She's a fine looking filly.'

'I wouldn't call her a girl Roy. More like a cunt.'

Your skin flushes bright red. You resist an urge to bolt that would probably end with you face down in a pile of garbage twenty feet from here. These shoes were built for punishment, not escape.

'Well, she's a pretty cunt then. I like her. How come you never give me a turn with your toys Paddy?'

'C'mon Roy, I just got her. I'll tell you what, you go take a shower and get something to eat and if you're sober on the way back tonight you can pick a hole. All right?'

'Sounnz good to me.' Roy slurs.

You feel the blood draining from your face. He just promised the homeless guy a turn with you if he took a shower and sobered up.

'Are you... we... were you...' You stammer as you struggle along on your toes.

'Have I lied about anything else?' He says bluntly. 'You better hope Roy decides to crawl into a bottle tonight or you're gonna be getting porked on that sheet of carboard he calls a living room.'

'Oh god.' You say in a tiny voice.

The rest of the walk to his place is short, although it feels close to a thousand miles to you. Your calves are actively trembling from muscle strain and you know that tomorrow they will simply throb, as will the bruised and battered toes on your feet. The leather does a great job of binding the foot, but not a very good one at protecting your tender little feet.

As you mount the steps to his second floor dwelling, your left calf gives out and you stumble. Before you can fall forward and smack your face off the metal stairs he catches you. You fall limp in his arms and moan, your aching legs and feet overwhelming you.

'Stay with me whore, we've barely started yet.' He comments to you as he places you against a chilly black guardrail. The metal is cool on your skin and you feel a little more aware as you look around at the neighbourhood Padraic lives in.

It's a run down area of town, and Padraic lives over some kind of shop. You glance at the sign and realize it's actually a butcher's shop of some kind and you find that oddly fitting considering the way he eyes you like a side of meat.

His key slips into the lock and then the door pops open with a creak. He slips a hand around your hip and pulls you inside. You stagger and fight to keep on your feet, and before you know it the door closes with a loud 'THUMP' of finality.

'Home at last.' Padriac says with a smile.

You smile weakly back at him. Why is it when he's calm and smiling like this he's even more intimidating than usual?

'Bathrooms there girl. Take a squat. You're gonna want to piss now before we get started.' You look over at the tiny bathroom. It was once pretty and nice but now it's clearly a bachelor's bathroom. A couple of rolls of toilet paper sit on top of the grimy white tank. A couple of razors and some shaving cream sit on the sink and a towel lies folded over the glass door leading to the shower.

You struggle over to the toilet on your tip toes and turn awkwardly. Carefully, you bend over and then plop down on the toilet seat. The release of pressure off your toes and calves makes you literally moan with pleasure.

Paddy doesn't close the door. He just makes a spinning 'hurry it up' motion with his finger and you hang your head in embarrassment as he watches you release your bladder.

As he watches you, he flips out his own cell phone and makes a call. You don't catch it at first, but after a moment you hear him talking to someone.

'Right, right. I'm home right now.'

He pauses.

'Yeah, I've got beer and entertainment. Come watch the game with me.'

You look up at him. What did he mean by entertainment?

'Right, see you in fifteen.'

See who in fifteen? What is he doing now?!

Padraic sets the phone on the counter and then he crooks a finger at you.

'Get over here whore. You've had more than enough time to piss.'

You groan and struggle back to your feet. It just keeps getting harder and harder to walk in these shoes. You're afraid to see what shape your toes are in now.

Padraic starts to slip out of his clothing as you stumble wearily out of the bathroom. He gives you a little shove in a different direction and you stagger down a hallway, fighting against gravity as you careen in the direction he shoved you.

'Sit your ass down on the couch. I'll be in to start working on you in a minute.' He calls down the hallway.

You stumble against the wall and brace yourself upright. Carefully, you mince down the hallway trying to take pressure off your toes and feet as you do so.

A drop of water splashes on your collarbone, and a moment later a second one drips onto the top of your breast and trickles down the sensitive skin. It takes you a moment to realize that you've started crying. You sniffle and rub your face into your throbbing shoulder, unable to even wipe away the tears.

Slowly, you limp into the room that Padraic shoved you towards and as you eye the room, you freeze. A large leather or pseudo leather couch sectional takes up the center of the room, and it faces a large screen TV mounted on the wall. A fridge quietly hums in the corner of the room.

But none of those things concern you.

The four cameras stationed around the room terrify you however.

He can't be planning to film this. He just can't. If this ever got onto the internet, that would be the end. Of everything. Your friends would know, your colleagues at work would know, your family would know and your own little fledgling family would cease to exist.

You start to shake violently. Your left leg cramps up suddenly and you fall to your knees hard and cry out. You feel your breathing get more rapid and your chest tightens up as you start to hyperventilate a little bit.

'I told you to get on the couch cunt. Are you deaf?' Padraic growls behind you.

There is no denying the tears as they pour down your face now. He can't ignore them as he looks at you.

'P-p-please sir. Please don't do this to me. I-I c-can't do this. Not like this.'

He just smiles at you.

'Get on the couch.' As he says so he lifts a remote and red lights flicker on in all four cameras.

'Please Sir! Please!' you sob and press your forehead to his leg.

He waits a moment and you pray that he's willing to show an iota of mercy, and then you feel his hand gripping and twisting your hair. You wail as he jerks you back to your feet by your long black mane. The one hand holds you up, the other grips the ropes around your neck and twists them tight. You gurgle and gasp for air, but he has all the leverage and he just strangles you for what feels like an hour but was probably less than a minute.

Then he releases the ropes and calmly speaks into your ear and gives you a damning choice.

'Get your ass on the couch, now, or I'm going to go make a phone call. You won't like the person I call.'

Still snuffling and dizzy, you nod your head.

'Yes. Yes sir.' You say with a feeble little whimper.

He shoves you again towards the couch and you stumble towards it. The pain in your feet and shoulders is forgotten now. It's been replaced with blind fear and a drive to obey. You have to obey. Have to. Your family is depending on you.

Maybe if you're depraved enough, or enough of a complete slut, you can talk him into not doing anything with the video. Maybe.

The seat of the couch is cool on your behind and the ability to finally sit is a small but unbelievably needed mercy. You don't have any idea how you can possibly walk back to the bar in these shoes.

Padraic walks around you and then flops down on the couch as well. He's removed all his clothing from his thin but muscular frame and you can see his pale skin. You can especially see his long thick manhood jutting out.