Tuesday

And then Padraic sees you biting on your lip and he makes you stop that too.

'Why do you care about how I look to my husband?' You ask him in between gritted teeth.

Padraic ignores you for a moment, and you can't read his face.

'You came to me looking for something specific, you just didn't know what it was.' He finally says.

'Well, yeah...'

'I know what you want. I probably know it better than you do. I'm happy to show it to you. All of it.'

You gasp as your arm throbs, but you try and ignore that as he just calmly explains what the hell is going on.

'But I'm not gonna blow up your marriage just because you're curious. And I'm not going to let you walk into a pile of freaks and get torn to shreds because you can't control your curiosity.'

'I can control my curiosity! I'm not an... idiot!'

'Last week you walked into my bar, let me tie you up, strip you naked and use you like a five dollar whore Ari. This week I put you into punishing bondage, walked you naked through back alleys, invited a random friend over to take your anal virginity and nearly got you choked unconscious about twenty minutes ago.'

There's an awkward silence as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

'Ok... those may not have been my... best... thought out moments.' You hedge a little.

'It was fucking stupid. You could have been hurt. You could have been murdered.' He says it calmly, almost sympathetically.

Another awkward silence falls on the conversation. You could be in a library or a coffee shop if you weren't sitting naked wearing bondage gear with rope coiled around your neck. You think about what he said for a while, and then you finally get to the obvious question.

'Why do you care?'

He stops rubbing your arm and looks at you. You wait, but he just taps you on the leg. You lift your foot up and his hands slide down your leg and calf to the bracelet around your ankle. He clicks a release on the bracelet, and then it slides away from the skin.

You wince as you finally release tension in that muscle. Then you actually scream out loud as he starts to rub that muscle as well.

You flop back on the couch and writhe as his fingers work on the knots in the muscle. It actually brings tears to your eyes. Your feet and calves haven't hurt this much since dance class.

It takes a couple of minutes of concentrated anguish to get that muscle to unclench, but eventually it releases and you can wiggle your foot again without wanting to scream.

'I just do. Take it or leave it.'

You look down at him and watch him as he unlaces the sadistic leather shoe wrapped around your foot. He slides it off carefully and starts to run his fingers over your foot.

Unlike your calf, it hurts, but his fingers feel like bliss on your skin.

Clearly this man knows how to rub some feet. You flop back and writhe on the couch again, but this time it's for a different reason.

'I'll take it.' You moan quietly.

'Smart girl.' He says quietly.

You feel him slip the lock on the other bracelet locked around your remaining ankle.

The bracelet slips from around your ankle, and he looks at you as you lay back on the couch. It should feel odd that you lay naked and exposed before another man, but it doesn't. You trust him for some odd reason.

The rest of the time in the apartment flows by wordlessly. Padraic cleans up the living room and then he takes you into the bathroom for what you think is more play but is in reality a quick shower. He's thorough, and he washes your skin down pink and almost sterile.

After you dry your hair, he coils the rope around your neck and slips the other rope in a coiled loop over your shoulder. The cruel little shoes are tied clipped together and slung over your shoulder. Then he escorts you down the stairs and through the alleys again.

'Do I... I don't... I'm still naked!' You protest.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks at you.

'You're wearing nylons. Let's go.'

Apparently you're not done playing after all.

You walk quietly with Padraic through the alleys back to the Darkside. It's easier this time, because the shoes are over your shoulder and now you can use your whole foot and not just your toes.

It's not only easier, it's faster. After a few minutes, you approach the alley where Padraic...

Oh God, the homeless guy. You stop cold and watch Padraic walk forward without you for a few seconds and then he turns and looks back at you.

You must have an odd look on your face, because he looks confused.

'What's the matter?' He asks you.

'I just... It's the... do I...?'

You imagine it would be amusing how easily Padraic does things to you that would obliterate your language skills if this was happening to someone else. Unfortunately, he doesn't do these things to anyone else, he does them to you. And so you're consistently left trying to explain some terrifying notion to him while suddenly dealing with a case of horror invoked stuttering.

He figures out what you're panicking about quickly though and then he gives you a wicked smile.

'Oh, you remember what I told Roy.'

Yes. Filthy, smelly, disgusting Roy.

You nod your head and clutch your hands to your chest.

'Well, I don't break promises girl. If he's sober and cleaned himself up, you're putting out in a back alley.'

You want to argue, but all that comes out of your mouth is a high pitched whine. It doesn't matter, he's not interested in hearing that anyways.

'Let's go girl, enough dawdling.' He orders.

You reluctantly walk forward with Padraic and head towards the alley. You pray to yourself that this poor homeless man has not managed to clean himself up and get a shower, because those were the terms of the deal.

You both round the corner and you can see Roy's foot sticking out from behind a dumpster. Padraic walks down the pathway between garbage bags and refuse and stops in front of the cardboard.

Roy lays unconscious on the filthy paper next to two new empty bottles of Thunderbird. The dank acrid smell of urine tells you that he's lost control of his bladder as well as passed into unconsciousness. Somehow he's lost a shoe and a sock and he's wrapped some rags around his foot to at least give some limited protection against the chilly air.

You wish you had some rags. Or a blanket. Or your clothes.

'Ah Roy... I told you to go eat.' Padraic says with a sigh.

You stand back quietly and let a wave of relief wash over you. He's drunk and unconscious and you don't have to have sex with him.

It strikes you for a moment that your life has become very, very odd in a hurry.

Padraic kneels down and contemplates Roy for a moment, and then he stands up and turns away. His expression is dark and bleak. You watch him stalk down the alley quietly and you silently follow him like a tiny nymph floating among the detritus.

As the Alley recedes into the distance, you get the nerve up to ask him a question.

'How do you know him?' You ask.

'How do I know Roy?'

'Yes.'

'A long time ago, Roy used to be my business partner.'

'Really?!'

'Yes. He owned half the bar with me. He was a good partner too.'

'But... what happened? How did he end up... back there in an alley?'

Padraic stops and looks at you intently. This isn't like those other times when he was trying to see through you, he looks at you. You feel like you're being judged again, not to see if you're ready, but to see if you're worthy.

'Sometimes bad things happen to good people girl.' Is all he will say to you.

Apparently you're not worthy.

'That's not really an answer.' You respond, your feelings hurt that he doesn't wish to share this with you.

Padraic stops, turns on his heel and glares at you. You shrink under that glare. He doesn't like being challenged by you.

'Girl, I know it's in you to be defiant, but tonight is not the night to push my buttons. Clear?'

'I'm not being defiant!' You say defiantly. 'I'm just asking a question!'

Padraic rolls his eyes at you.

'Why is asking a question defiant?' You ask, unsure what the rules are and how you're breaking them.

Padraic reaches out and seizes the rope still coiled around your throat and pulls you to him. You're yanked forward against him and he grips the rope tightly so that it constricts around your neck.

It only takes a second for him to overpower you like that. You've pressed against him, naked but for rope and nylon and gasping for air yet again. It should feel terrible, but you're certain in your heart of hearts you keep pushing him because you want him to seize control back from you.

And you think he gets that too.

'Asking a question is defiant because you are not here to ask questions. You are here to be my personal fucktoy.' Padraic growls into your ear. 'And clearly when we get back to my bar you need a little reminder of that.'

'Sorry sir... Sorry!' You squeak.

'Save your apologies.' You need some discipline girl.

He says that in a completely intimidating way, and it should send shivers of fear racing up and down your body. Instead, you can't help but to smile and luxuriate in the sudden wave of aggression.

'Promises, promises...' You whisper up at him.

Padraic just shakes his head and looks at you with irritation. Then he growls and starts walking back to the bar, dragging you by your rope collar.

You stumble along behind him and try not to grin gleefully. You were right after all. You're not done playing yet.

It only takes a few minutes for you and Padraic to get back to the bar. The door is locked up, but he does have a key after all and in moments you're through the door and headed back to the back storage area.

Padraic hauls you in by your rope collar and then shoves you into a corner.

'Stay there. I'm going to get some gear and you and I will have a little chat.'

'Yes sir.' You say with a smile.

You shouldn't smile. It pisses him off and he's about to do something cruel to you, you can just sense it.

But this is what you get when you push back. And you know it, you just finally found someone that is willing to slap your hand when you do it.

You feel very excited. Your stomach flutters with butterflies, and while you're certain this is going to hurt, you really don't care. This part isn't about pain, it's about him making you do what he wants you to do. And the thought of that makes your stomach flutter the way it hasn't since high school when you hid behind the stands and let that boy slide his hands under your dress.

You hear a creak and Padraic drags something over the floor to the middle of the room. Then he walks over to the corner where you're carefully facing the wall and grabs you by the hair. You gasp as he hauls you up by your scalp and your hair and then drags you back to the middle of the room.

A simple metal chair sits in the middle of the room. When you get closer however, you realize that it's not that simple.

Heavy leather and chain restraints attach to the back legs, and straps hang loose around the back of the chair. A pair of hand cuffs has been welded solidly to the back of the metal.

Whoever sits in this chair isn't getting up. Not unless somebody lets them.

'Sit.' Padraic says. How does he make one word sound so intimidating?

You slide onto the cold metal and shiver a little. Padraic walks behind you and slips your wrists into the handcuffs and locks them on tight. Your ankles are pulled back to the leather cuffs and moments later they're snug around your ankles as well.

A leather strap slides around your torso and he buckles it tight. Then he reaches under the chair and fiddles with something. There's a loud click and then the seat of the chair falls away.

Your sense of glee starts to diminish a little, but the flutter in your stomach starts to increase. This is starting to get a little intimidating.

Two more leather straps slip around your thighs and lock in place. You're now officially secured to the chair and vulnerable. You look up at Padraic and start to feel a little scared now. He isn't denigrating you or angry, he just has his pensive 'what should I do to her next' face on.

He turns away from you for a moment and then disappears over to a cupboard. The door slips open quietly and he pulls out a black plastic folding case. He walks back to you and then frowns. A moment later he drags the table with the box your clothes are locked in to you and the chair you are secured to.

Calmly he slips the box open and pulls out a simple black plastic control unit and two relatively thin black cables. He clicks a button on the box and a simple green light appears. That makes him nod, and then he picks something else out of the box.

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. It looks like one of the plugs he gave you from the kit, but it's made of shiny steel. He pulls out a little tube of lubricant and covers the tip and most of the plug and then turns to you with a smile.

Oddly, your sense of glee has evaporated now. There does appear to be an explosion of butterflies in your stomach now however.

You gasp and make a loud mewling sound as he slips the metal piece between your legs and gently but firmly slides it in between your buttocks and inside your rectum. It's just a tad to large to easily expel, and moments later he takes one of the black wires and clips it onto the end of the plug that is now lodged inside you.

Seconds later, he picks up what appears to be for all intents and purposes, a metal wand with a small metal ball on the end. He attaches that to another black cable which connects in turn to the box and then he turns his attention back to you.

'Ever play with electricity before girl?' He asks calmly.

'Oh God...' is all you can manage to squeak out. This is not what you were expecting.

'This is actually pretty simple and safe. The unit only outputs voltage, not amps. So there's no real danger.'

Padraic takes the wand and places the tip against your left nipple. You gasp as the current flows into your tender skin and stimulates your nerves. It feels like a hundred pinpricks at once as your flesh jumps and clenches.

'But as you can see girl, just because it's safe, doesn't mean you won't feel it.'

'Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod. I am really, really sorry sir.'

Padraic laughs.

'That's actually really gratifying girl, but we're not done.'

'Sir pleeease. I promise I'll be very, very good from now on.' You plead with him.'

'I know you will girl, because we're not stopping. And the next time you feel defiant, you're going to remember what we did here tonight and you'll...'

Padraic pauses, then takes the wand and pushes it into contact with the skin of your right breast again. Slowly and cruelly, he traces the tip of the metal around the base of your nipple and along the tender skin or your aureole.

You yowl as he does it. It aches and throbs in an incredibly sensitive way. It only takes him about thirty seconds to complete the tiny circle, but you spend the entire moment shrieking and trying to pull away from him.

When he pulls the wand away, he looks at your cringing, bound form on the chair and nods.

'Reconsider.' He says finally.

'Absolutely sir. Absolutely. I was very defiant tonight and I'm sorry and I won't do that again.' You plead with him, your voice cracking as you do so.

'I know girl. I know.' Padraic says calmly. And then he turns to the box and adjusts the voltage a little higher. 'We're going to make sure of that.'

He's absolutely merciless with you. That little wand gently touches places that are sensitive and delicate and he's relentless about exploring your body to locate the spots that make you squeal the loudest.

He gets the loudest shrieks from you when he runs the little ball on the tip of the wand across the soles of your feet. It tickles and shocks the sensitive skin at the same time. He gets wails of distress as he traces your ribcage on your petite little frame, and the butterflies in your tummy explode. But the tears don't start to fall until he slides the wand across the inside of your thigh and slowly, gently parts the lips of your sex to caress you inside with the devious little tool. You buck so hard when he does this that you actually move the chair away from him an inch or so.

He looks at you with a simple smile and says 'Now we're getting some where.'

You groan, and then you sob a quiet little sob as you watch him turn the voltage up again.

'Now I'm going to ask you some questions girl, and I've got a good idea where you don't want this wand to be, so do try to answer correctly.'

'Yes sir.' You whimper.

'What's your name girl?' He asks.

'What?' This was not a question you were expecting.

He sighs and moves the wand towards that spot between your legs. You squeal and try to move the chair away from him.

'Arianna! My name is Arianna!' You shriek loudly.

'Are you sure?' He asks.

'What? Of course I'm sure!'

'Wrong answer girl.' He says grimly.

You don't even get a chance to protest. The wand simply moves between your legs and touches the lips of your sex.

'GnnnrrrGGGHHHHH!' Is all that you can say as he spends twenty seconds rubbing the diabolical little wand along your sensitive opening. You can feel your flesh twitching as the current flows through the tender skin. The wand stays there for an eternity, at least twenty seconds.

'But that is my name!' You protest vigorously.

'Are you sure that's your name?' He asks calmly. You watch him with a feeling of panic as he slowly turns the dial on the evil black box even higher.

'Yes!' You declare loudly. 'My name is Ari! Arianna!'

He sighs and then leans forward and his fingers gently seize that little fold of flesh over that most sensitive part of you. You gasp as you feel it slide away and the chilly air of the back room caresses the incredibly sensitive skin.

He taps the wand against the metal bar of the chair. You tremble as you watch little blue arcs of electricity flicker out of the tip of the wand and into the metal.

You can feel your heart pounding. You've never felt this scared before with him.

'Are you certain girl?' He asks without looking at you.

'No?' You stammer a single word that's both a statement and a question and warbled plea for mercy to him.

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

'Oh? And what do you think your name might be then?' He says with a knowing smile.

You wrack your brain for an answer. You really, desperately do not want to feel that current there. The handcuffs on the back of the chair clatter quietly as your hands shake,

'Whore? Is my name whore sir?' You wheedle, somewhat ashamed at the way your voice cracks as you say it.

He smiles at you finally, and you let out the breath you'd been holding without realizing it.

'Good girl. You're finally getting it.' He says to you with a genuine, warm smile.

Then he pauses.

'But no, your name is not whore.'

Before you can protest or shriek, the little ball tips up and touches the very tip of your clitoris. You gasp and arch your back as you scream. Or you would scream if you could get any sound to come out of your mouth as you strain against the straps and bindings holding you securely in the chair.

And of course, he's meticulously cruel. His fingers are like a vice on your hood as he slowly drags the ball all around your tiny little scrap of flesh and he pours voltage and suffering into you. He only releases you when the ball accidentally touches his fingers and he yanks back his hand cursing.

'Dammit! That stings!' He growls and then he sucks on his fingers.

You lie limply on the chair and hyperventilate. You don't know if you can take any more of this. Your shoulders heave with gasps for oxygen and half sobs.

He is so cruel with you. He seems to drag you into these situations and let you punish yourself. You know you're so close to the simple answer he wants, but you can't get there on your own.