Jaquin
Posts: 156
Joined: 12/12/2011
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Restraints and Resistance ( 2 )
Sunlight burned through my eyelids and, like I did most days at home, I tried to turn over so that the sun was at my back but half way through my hands hurt and I wasn't aware of why they just wouldn't move out of the way. My arms ached, as did my head and as I lay there with the sun still pounding at my clenched eyes the previous night slowly creeped back into memory.
“Karen remind me to kill you.” I mumbled as I remembered that she'd dragged me to the club and that the pain in my head was probably from to many drinks.
I didn't really remember having so many drinks to be so passed out that I didn't even remember leaving the club but the whole issue with drinking is that you eventually forget the count and just go on autopilot. Karen was probably waking up the same way, although possibly with a guy next to her. I tried to reach over and grab my clock which was just over on the end table to bring it close to my face – I refused to open my eyes any more then a sliver. However my arms felt like rubber and I couldn't quite make them move. I groaned and cursed under my breath and slowly, tentatively, began to peal an eye open to try and glimpse the time before the accursed sun turned my headache into an explosion. As things slowly came into focus I was confronted not with my bedroom and a digital clock but a plank wood wall practically right in front of me.
“Huh...”
As I glared at the wooden wall, as if it was just an illusion that hid my clock, my mind began to gain speed and it began taking account of just what all hurt. In a few moments it decided to report that everything but my toes hurt and I began stretching out to relieve the kinks in my joints only to be met by solid walls, I groaned and cast my eyes towards my feet to spot an identical looking wood plank wall there too. It was about that time that I finally realized that I was not at home in bed and my mind snapped, painfully, into full action – adrenaline jamming into my system.
Pain, some very sever, registered all over. The worst was in my arms and I tried to get them moving but felt resistance. They'd lost all feeling and I couldn't tell what was wrong so I tried to sit up but I couldn't manage to use them to support me so I struggled up without them. Once sitting in what appeared to be a small wooden enclosure I was able to look enough behind me to see my arms and the handcuffs that adorned my wrists.
“What... how..”
The only explanation I had came to mind, I'd met someone at the bar and we'd done something with cuffs. I tried to pull at them, maybe they weren't metal and I could get out, but without feeling in my arms I couldn't even tell if there was pressure being made. Soon enough they were on fire with every pore feeling like it'd been poked by needles. I knew that blood was finally returning to them in full force and that it was going to hurt – and hurt indeed it did. I sat clenching my teeth and moaning at the sensation as my nerves finally reconnected.
While waiting for full feeling to return I tried to work out why I was here, wherever here was, like this. If it was by my own choice or not – the possibility that I'd been taken against my will was certainly an option though chances are, with the state of my memory, it wouldn't have been a hard time to convince someone as drunk as I must have been to follow them to a car. What of Karen, did she
- 11 - know where I was, what if she was here with me.
“Karen..”, I coughed on my own words with my throat being sore and dry, “Karen”
There was only silence to meet me, maybe she wasn't here, or maybe she was still passed out from the night of drinks or perhaps here but out of ear shot. What the hell had happened? Given enough time I was able to feel most of my arms again, though they throbbed with pain and I sort of wished they were still mostly numb. I tried to tug free of the handcuffs but was met with resolute strength. Metal after all.
“Crap.” How was I supposed to get loose of metal handcuffs without the key.
I began putting my thoughts towards the key that had to be here, I looked down at the floor and saw what I'd been sleeping on. A large blanket covered a good portion of the floor but there was clearly visible hay around the edges where the blanket had shifted and bunched up under my sleeping form. What kind of place was this that I woke up on a pile of hay handcuffed? More importantly, how did I get out and get home?
I started awkwardly rooting about the floor, squishing into one corner or the other and sliding around on my backside while pawing around in a random pattern, probably covering the same spot I'd searched a minute before. Without being able to see well behind me I wasn't able to coordinate my hands in a proper search. After only a few minutes I was tired from the searches abnormal position and search requirements. I'd been unable to find any key, just more hay – chances were that the key was no where near me. If this was a kidnapping it would be rather dumb to leave the key on the floor within grasp of the captive.
The idea of being a captive had me worried, who would want me captive and for what purpose, was there even a chance of escape, was I meant to be alive for long? I knew I couldn't dwell on such thoughts, I had to try and escape; to get free. First things first for that was to get out of this wood box I was in. It wasn't hard getting to my feet from my sitting position, just a matter of getting myself on my knees and standing. I wasn't prepared for the full sight of where I was.
Around me was stalls, as in stalls from a barn – for horses, and I was standing in one. All the others were empty, no sign of Karen. On the far side of the barn was the open doors, spread wide and letting in a massive amount of sun. The waist high walls of the stall would be hard to climb over without hands, I could already tell the door latch was in place but it should be an easy task to undo it even from behind.
I turned around and took the few steps to the stall door, reaching over and patting around for the simple latch. Within moments I'd found it and released it, allowing me to push the stall door open and move into the vast area that was the center of the barn. The bloom around the door prevented me from seeing what awaited outside but there didn't seem to be anything of use in the barn and I doubted that the key for the cuffs would really be left here. There really wasn't any use in staying in the barn, so I headed off towards the door on unsteady feet – still not fully recovered from being cramped all night.
The sunlight seemed to grow more intense, if that was at all possible, as I moved towards the open doors. I squinted and would have shielded my eyes with my hands had I been able to. There was something visible out there, it looked like a person. From the intensity of the sun it must have been
- 12 - right in front of me or perhaps I was just overly sensitive to it with my headache and previous night of drinks.
“Hello?”, I stumbled out into the light – the query going unanswered.
I could feel a gentle breeze begin to blow at me, the walls of the barn no longer protecting me, I still wore the dress I'd worn to the club and the wind gave my legs goosebumps. My eyes were adjusting to the light quickly as I blinked and stood there lest I trip over something. As they did the shape of a person became solidified and I knew there was someone standing a few feet in front of me. Why they hadn't responded I didn't know. I squinted and blinked as the light became manageable and the shadowed figure became recognizable.
“Greg!?”
He stood there without responding for some time, I didn't know how to react besides abstract shock – was he the one behind all of this? Did he kidnap me from the bar? Why would he have done such a thing, what if; a final thought passed before he spoke, he was really after me the whole time and his date with Karen was a front to get to me?
“So you're finally awake.”
“What is going on here Greg,” I was trying to be demanding, to stand up to him but it was hard to be menacing with my arms stuck behind me and useless, “what's the meaning of this?” - I rattled the handcuffs.
“I seem to recall you putting those on yourself.”
“Bullshit, why the hell would I do that?”
He shrugged, “Whatever the reason there they are.”
“So how about you remove them?”
“Why should I do that? What assurance do I have that you won't run?”
He made it sound like I didn't have the right to, “You don't own me.”
“You're right of course Sarah, feel free to leave.” he motioned around with his hand.
A detail I hadn't paid attention to came into focus, we both stood in a fenced area – a fence that was way to high to climb or go under or pass in any way with my hands restrained.
“So unlock these cuffs.” it was a long shot I knew.
“Not like that.”
“Not like what?”
- 13 - “If you want those cuffs off you need to be limited in another fashion.”
“So you're not going to let me go..”
“It isn't in the plan Sarah, but if you want to be free then you do it under your own resources.”
Greg turned his back and began walking away, was he just going to leave me to be stuck or try and find a way to escape?
“Wait...” I called after him dejectedly.
“Yes Sarah?”
“Can you please take the cuffs off? They really hurt.”
“You accept the alternative?”
“Do I get to know what it is first?”
“Would that really effect your choice?”
I took another glance at the fence, solid metal mesh with holes way to small for feet and set into the ground. From my purview of the barn this was the only exit it had, a pen who also only had one exit and I could see a large padlock on it.
I hung my head and spoke quietly, “No...”
“So you accept?”
I really wasn't sure, but the current situation seemed inescapable, the only chance was to hope there was a loophole in the alternative, “I guess so.”
“Good”
Greg moved back towards me and I resisted the urge to kick him as he stopped right in front. Instead I silently turned around and waited for whatever came my way. I had hopped that he'd unlock my wrists right away but his hands didn't go there first. He ran a pair of fingers up my spine, making me shiver, before parting my hair in the back revealing my neck. His hand passed in front of me for a moment and pulled something up to my neck, it was stiff and thick, way larger then any necklace would be. As he closed the clasp in the back I knew it was leather, a leather collar. My heart dropped when I heard the click of a lock knowing that the collar was not coming off.
Only then did Greg take my wrists in one hand and I felt the cuffs loosen and then release. As soon as his hands let go of mine I brought my hands in front of me and looked at the damage. My wrists were painted red with dozens of indentations pressed into them from the long stay in unforgiving metal. I rubbed at my wrists wincing at the pain it caused. My shoulders ached too, finally able to oscillate forward - the cramps would last for days.
- 14 - Tentatively, for fear of confirming what it was, I moved a hand up to my neck and felt around. I sighed, it certainly was a leather collar and I could feel the lock in the back along with a small rectangular box attached to one point. I could faintly feel two small cold points, metal, on the inside against my neck though I didn't know what they were or what they did.
“So this is your alternative?” I pulled at the unyielding collar.
“Yes, it is. With it you are free to wander when allowed but not to leave the grounds.”
“You gona keep a guard on me or something?”
He laughed, “No of course not, it's only me here. No, the collar will deter you in it's own way.”
“What do you want from me?”
“We'll get to that at a later time. For now I think we should give you a tour, or perhaps a decent breakfast.”
My stomach growled at the mention of food, I didn't know what time of the day it was but it was at least an entire evening and night since I'd eaten. I just stood there silently as Greg watched, apparently he didn't care about my response as soon he turned and walked to the gate. Taking a set of keys from a pocket he unlocked the padlock and removed the chain. Swinging open the gate he looked back at me probably with the expectation that I follow. I looked out beyond the fence, besides the house in the distance there really wasn't anything in my way. Could I make a run for it if he left the gate open?
The fields looked large, what if there was a fence at the edge that I couldn't see now and couldn't climb over when I got there? Greg had been thorough at keeping me well contained since he brought me here was that really going to change? In the end, even as I complied with Greg and started to walk towards him, I knew I had to forget the offer of breakfast and try to make an escape. As Greg walked out of the enclosure and in the direction of the house I followed feigning obedience but moving slow so that the gap between us grew. Once I felt I had enough of a lead I took a final glance at Greg and then bolted before he looked back at me.
Off I ran down the field, in no particular direction but hopefully towards a way out. I stole a glance back to see how far Greg was behind me and laughed to myself with glee and surprise when I saw he was just standing there watching me run. A tree line was approaching in front of me, with Greg not even giving chase this was to...
Unexpectedly I found myself on my back, laying in the grass; my neck burned with pain and I grabbed at the collar to try and move it out of the way to see what was wrong but almost to soon a hand grabbed my wrist and, despite my struggles, Greg managed to pull me to my feet. Still holding against my pulling he looked at me.
“Did you think it would be that easy? This field, this entire place, is rigged to your collar. As you just found out it's capable of delivering an electrical shock that will knock you out. The collar won't come off and you can't get past that invisible wall without help. Accept it Sarah, come have breakfast with me.”
- 15 - He seemed oddly gentle about the invitation, like he was almost pleading with me to just give in and come along.
“My neck hurts.”
“That's going to sting for a while, you best do what you can to avoid a repeat.”
It was about at that point, with the pain and the failed escape attempt, that I just broke down and began to cry.
“What do you even want from me.. what am I supposed to do...”
“Come to breakfast, take it slow; one thing at a time. You'll get the hang of it eventually.”
“But I don't want to, I.. I want to go home.”
“I'm afraid that's not an option.”
“Why not?”
“That's just not the way things work.”
“That's a stupid answer.” I found myself pouting like some child being told they couldn't have chocolate instead of supper – it seemed like an entirely inappropriate thing to do at this time.
“Well it's the answer I have, now are you going to come have breakfast or see if you can escape somehow?”
I looked over at the tree line, never wanting to be in a forest more then I did now, but with the sturdy collar locked on and that invisible fence that would just knock me on my back again I didn't really see much of a choice. Like with the handcuffs and the high fence Greg had me in a situation I couldn't win at. I tried not to act like I was defeated, though the thoughts of that were already creeping into my head, I didn't want Greg to win so easy but at the same time I didn't see any downside to feeding my empty stomach.
“What are we having?”
Instead of answering he took that as his cue to turn and start walking back to the farm house – wordlessly I knew that I had to follow and I walked after him. As we walked I was trying to devise some ad hock plan to get the key to this wretched collar and make a run for it but, besides somehow overpowering him – a task I doubted I was capable of – I didn't see how I could manage it just yet. He didn't leave me to my thoughts for long.
“As I'm sure you've noticed I took the liberty of removing your heels last night.”
I rolled my eyes at him, “No really? I hadn't noticed.”
“You know, the real torture would have been to leave you in them.”
- 16 - “So you suppose I should thank you?”
“Oh hardly.”
“Guess I won't be getting them back?”
“Threw em in the trash.”
“What? Why? Those things cost me thirty bucks.”
He laughed, “Typical woman – here you are held captive against your will with a shock collar locked on you walking into who knows what kind of a future and you worry about your shopping expenses going to waste.”
I blinked dumbly, his blunt expression of the dire situation I was in; along with fully admitting he was doing stuff against my will struck me – but not as much as the actual truth of his statement. For a moment I had been wanting to smack him for tossing my shoes rather then the kidnapping and imprisonment not to mention the still painful sore on my neck. Greg looked back at me and smiled as I continued to be blank faced.
“Anyway, after breakfast there's lots to do. While this isn't the type of farm with fields of crops there is still things to tend.”
“Willing or not I'm your new helper huh.”
“You got it Sarah.”
I sighed to myself, I'd been kidnapped to help clean a farm, just great. At least Greg stopped trying to make conversation and I returned to my thoughts as I padded barefoot through the grass after him. I really didn't want to be stuck cleaning up the house, while I managed to keep my apartment in a relative state of cleanliness it was a task done out of necessity rather then desire. I really didn't think that he'd kidnapped me just to get a maid, it was already obvious that he not only had a penchant for but had a knowledge of restraints and there was little doubt in my mind that he'd be practicing on me – either just because he could or to continue to prevent me from escaping.
I hadn't had a single good thought of escape or come to any great realizations of my situation by the time we reached the house and I knew that once I stepped inside it would be a waiting game for my escape chance. As I walked up the steps, watching Greg head inside without delay, my mind finally turned to the prospect of food and I knew there was no helping me for right now and I may as well take what I could get.
But as I walked into the kitchen and dining area I stopped short, there was no food on the table or even the counters. There was no sign that anything had been cooked or that there was even food in the house.
“I thought you said there was breakfast.”
“There is.”
- 17 - “Are you perhaps Peter Pan?”
He laughed, “Hardly.”
“Then where's the food?”
“What, you've never been in a kitchen before? It's in the fridge and cupboards.”
He sat in a traditional wooden chair at the head of the table and a smile crossed his lips as the look of realization crossed mine.
“You want me to make it don't you?”
“Right again Sarah. First duty of for your stay here – cooking. I prefer my eggs over easy and plenty of bacon, toasted whole wheat with jam.” he recited his breakfast order like he was sitting in a restaurant.
I stood and glared at him for a long while but he made no move of changing his mind or doing anything but staring back and me the hints of the smile still at the corner of his mouth. Eventually I sighed and resigned myself to the task – at least it was a far sight better then cleaning up some gross mess. I walked around the table without giving him the dignity of a look and set about finding the requested ingredients. I certainly wouldn't mind having much the same at this point.
Bread I found in a cupboard above the toaster, eggs and bacon were of course in the fridge. A brief search involving opening and closing most of the cupboards found me with a couple frying pans and the few utensils I'd need.
Taking the longest to cook I laid out a few strips of bacon from the package on the stove and stood watching them start to heat up with the pan – the distinct and universal mouth salivating smell of frying bacon slowly wafting up as heat peaked. My stomach growled even more. As the bacon sizzled away I turned my attention to the loaf of whole wheat bread and began laying out a multitude of slices to be toasted. I heard Greg's chair squeak at this point as he came to stand behind me.
“I think you should put some of that bread back.”
“What you only want like a piece each?”
“No I'll have like three.”
I looked down at the four slices that I'd laid out – the idea in my mind being of two each.
“So I don't get any?”
“Not right now.”
“So what do I get to eat?”
“Well while you're cooking and such you can chew on this.” he held up something in his hand
- 18 - and I shuddered.
“I ain't chewing on that.” I took a step back.
“Oh Sarah you don't really have a choice.” he moved towards me with the leather harness in hand, “Now open that mouth or things will only get worse.”
“But I'm hungry.”
“And the sooner you accept it the sooner you can get to eating.” he looked at me sternly – as if he was addressing a young kid who didn't want to clean up before dinner.
With my back to the counter I didn't see any way out, I took a glance at the bacon frying just out of reach and pouted. Greg lifted the harness up and untangled the straps and I sighed and opened my mouth. As soon as I did the ball was being pushed in and before I even had a chance to do anything about it Greg was sliding straps through buckles all around. The first even with my mouth was enough to prevent me from pushing the ball out but the one that went over my nose and between my eyes to the back and the one under my chin like a helmet strap forced my mouth closed tightly around the ball. Not only was I unable to push the ball out – more so with the other straps – but I was unable to remove my teeth from biting into the distinctly rubber tasting ball to talk. The snick of a lock told me that, even with my hands free as he expected me to cook, I would be unable to remove it.
I scowled best I could at him, “Thff ivnn niff” (This isn't nice)
I doubt he understood me, if he did or not he just patted my cheek and went to sit back down at the table, “Don't burn the bacon.”
Breathing solely through my nose now, or perhaps knowing I couldn't eat any, the bacon smelled even better and I continued to scowl and mutter best I could as I tended to it. I was tempted to let it burn but I doubt he'd have let me feel it was worth it. If a shocking collar and a ballgag were standard fair for him I really didn't want to see what kind of things he had around for punishments. The satisfaction of burning the food would be short lived – that much I knew about Greg so far.
As the slight ache in my jaw grew more evident and I tried not to drool all over my rumbled and dirty but still new dress I worked at getting the toast and eggs ready while the bacon was in it's last few minutes. Karen really didn't believe it but I did actually know how to cook and, while hardly professional or perfect at it, to stagger things based on cooking time so that they were ready roughly at the same time. I just wished the food would all cook faster right now so that I could get this gag out of my mouth and make something for myself to eat.
I could practically feel Greg's eyes on me as I began to plate his breakfast. All in all it was a hefty amount of food – with a bias on the bacon as his plate contained all that I'd cooked having started it before being gagged and learning that I couldn't have any yet. I'd left some on the pan for me for later but Greg had scoffed at me and I'd put the rest on his plate. I really didn't blame him, I wanted a pile of bacon right about now.
As I put the plate on the table near him, with fork and knife handy – having been scoffed again when not having them – I stood beside him expectantly tugging at the straps of the gag. He ignored me
- 19 - focused on his plate, checking to see everything was cooked right. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other impatiently until eventually he looked up at me.
“Looks like you did a good job. Why don't you take a seat.”
“Aan oou aack thff oow?” (Can you take this out)
Whether he understood me or just expected the question he smiled slightly, “In a bit dear, please sit down.”
I scowled again, he kept delaying me being able to eat – and now he was going to make me watch him eat while my stomach kept growling. Pulling at the straps was futile, the buckles were tight and locked. I looked for a place to sit but there was only the one chair at the table. I searched around the room until Greg interrupted me, probably seeing my wandering eyes.
“On the floor dear.”
“Bevver ann bevver”, I muttered. (Better and better)
I tried to get comfortable on the floor, hardwood wasn't called hard for no reason and my butt ached almost instantly as I sat cross legged hoping daggers would shoot out of my eyes at Greg as he just smiled at me and began eating his breakfast. He seemed to make a special point of savouring the bacon that I'd tried to reserve for my own breakfast and as if either to savour it more or to take even longer eating he interjected bites with talking picking up from the conversation held earlier.
“So along with your task here being cooking, and not just breakfast mind you, you'll have plenty of other chores to keep you busy. Now of course,” he brushed a finger against the collar on my neck, “I'll handle going out to shop.”
Being unable to coherently take part in the conversation I just grumbled and continued to hope for some act of magic to occur to get him to at least let me eat.
Ignoring my noises he continued, “Cleaning is a big thing, tidying up – like making the beds in the morning and doing laundry, keeping the house clean. And then there is your training.”
“Twanninn?” (Training)
“Yes dear, consider this as a early lesson in patience and putting yourself after your; caretaker.”
I just knew that there were words he'd wanted to use to refer to himself other then caretaker right about now, of what little I knew of him such a generous title would not be my first choice for him. It made it sound like I needed him or that he was being nice to me by kidnapping me and starving me.
“For now your duties will take place just in the house, though your training will take place all over, I do have long term plans for you.” he finished with a wide grin at me knowing the thought of a long term stay would torment me.
And it did just that, while I had known that he really had no immediate plans of letting me go –
- 20 - without my escaping – the thought that he'd planned out a whole regiment of activities and things to be subjected to just made the reality of imprisonment feel all the more heavy on my mind. If this first day said anything about his induction curve I was in for one hell of a torturous time if I didn't manage to escape soon.
“Now of course, like any good job, you'll have a set amount of time for each task. We do need to make sure your training doesn't suffer by letting such a thing as dawdling on your chores get in the way. Rest assured I have the capacity to imagine many a punishment that you'd not like.”
By this point he was almost done eating and I was just sort of in the 'nod and smile' mode of conversation although in this case it was probably more 'drool and grumble'. I sat attempting to contain my anxiousness at being ungagged and allowed to eat as he finished the last few bites on his plate. Once he was finally done he turned to me and smiled again – an act that was becoming more about some evil thought he'd had rather then being happy or nice.
“Alright dear, wash, dry and put away the dishes then you can make something for yourself to eat.”
By this point I was so anxious to eat the task of washing a plate was nothing, but the gag was still in place and I sat there for a moment and mumbled.
“Whaa buu thiff?” (What 'bout this)
“You can cook with it still, just be thankful you can't eat with it.”
I looked blankly at him as I grabbed his plate and cutlery and was silently – but truly – grateful that I really couldn't eat through the gag. Chances are Greg would force me to wear it much longer if it was possible, and that was a prospect my cramping jaw did not enjoy even thinking of. Trying my best not to drool on the plate as I washed it in the sink I was putting food on the counter in no time. I half expected Greg to scoff at me for the amount I was laying out but thankfully he remained sitting in silence as I worked at frying up my own bacon, eggs and toast.
What had been such a quick cook time earlier now dragged out into forever as I continuously wiped the drool off my chin so that it wouldn't land in my food. But finally it was ready and platted and I brought it over to the table and looked at Greg expectantly.
“Take a seat,” he gestured at the sole chair as he got up from it.
I'd expected that I'd have had to sit on the floor again and I found myself happy at the gift of a chair... and then stopped myself in mid thought – how bad was this already? I was already being grateful towards this bastard because he let me sit on a ruddy chair. I pushed the thoughts aside as my stomach groaned on empty again and I took a seat with the plate of much anticipated food in front of me. With Greg behind me I expected he was already going through his pockets for the gag key. He wasn't.
“Wait here, I'll be back in a moment.”
And with that he walked out of the room, my feeble attempts to call after him falling on deaf ears.
- 21 - I cursed him under my breath, talk about a torture. Who needed restraints when the draw of food kept me glued in the chair and I had no choice but to sit and suffer with the smell of bacon again assaulting my nose.
Eventually I heard him returning, his footsteps sounding very slow – either the bastard never left an opportunity to torture me unused or my mind was doing more against me then he was by imagining a slower gait. His steps were accompanied by a soft clinking. And then he was beside me holding a length of thin, no more then a few centimetres thick, chain. It seemed almost delicate but even such a thin steel would be unbreakable by bare hands. Attached to the chain was four steel cuffs.
Without saying a thing he my wrists in turn and closed the steel bracelets around them – being considerate enough at least to engage the double lock. Kneeling down I watched as he did the same for my ankles. After making sure they were all secure and unable to open or close any the much anticipated key came to light and he finally set about unlocking and removing the gag. With the ball finally free of my mouth I automatically started working my jaw to try and stop the discomfort.
“Thank you.” I whispered.
He patted me on the head and started heading for the door, “Come to the living room when you're done.”
And then he was gone and I heard a TV turn on in a nearby room. With my jaw returning to normal I tugged at the length I now had between my limbs, there was maybe three inches between ankles and way less between wrists. The worst was the length from wrists to ankles with not enough length to allow me to reach must past the table not to mention to my mouth – in order to eat I either had to pick up my feet with each bite or stoop my head down to table height.
How humiliating – forced to basically stick my face in my plate and eat. At least there was nobody watching as I chose the easier option of stooping down and rapidly shovelling food as fast as I could chew and swallow. Ignoring any protest from my stomach which was doing its best to expand again I finished eating in record time. And then regretted it.
It let me with the only choice left to me – show myself to Greg. Not that I had much choice with the cuffs being a more immediate stop to escape plans then the collar. I sat at the table a bit, tugging at the chains between my cuffs – knowing that while thin it was way to strong for me to snap apart if it was welded properly which of course it was.
Eventually the fear of Greg coming back and spotting me lounging I got up and did my best to shuffle my dishes over to the sink. If he wanted them washed and put away he'd have to uncuff me because with my hands forced to remain at waist height I wasn't able to reach the counter not to mention up and into the sink or the cupboards.
With dread at what was to come I shuffled off to the sound of the TV where Greg waited. I walked slower then the chains let – some part of me still fighting for the flight option but all to soon I stood in the doorway and Greg looked up at me smiling.
“Now Sarah – your training really begins.” he stood up and I stared at the long strand of leather he had in his hand.
_____________________________
"The feeling of freedom, and freedom denied."
|
Ponygirl - Chapter Two - 
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