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  “Sir?”

  She saw an eyebrow raise but still he did not look up. Taking a deep breath she tried again:

  “Sir, it's Emily's birthday tomorrow and she has invited me out to have a drink with her tonight. Please may I go?”

  He sighed heavily, folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table. Softly he tapped space next to him, indicating that she should join him. She hopped up excitedly... surely the fact he hadn't said no straight away was a good sign. His finger rested under her chin and pointed her hopeful face up to his.

  “Do you remember what happened the last time I trusted you to go out? You're still grounded little one.”

  She groaned inwardly. A fortnight ago she had gone out with some work mates. After she had said her good byes and merrily tottered out of the bar in search of a taxi she realised she had left her mobile phone at home. There was no taxi in sight and with it only being a mile back to his house she had decided to walk the short journey home.

  He had been standing in the bay window, waiting for her to return. As soon as she caught sight of his silhouette, the arms crossed over his chest, the legs spread slightly apart- she knew she was in deep trouble. He waited for her to let herself in and pointed to the floor. Gulping she had knelt before him and whispered an optimistic “hello”. The bruise from the slap across her face had left a mark for a week.

  “You promised me you would get a taxi home and that you would call me as soon as you were in one so I could wait for your safe return.”

  Dazed with pain, she cradled her cheek and choked back the tears that were welling up in her wide eyes.

  “I'm so sorry Sir, I forgot my phone.”

  He leant forwards and squeezed her cheeks hard, forcing the gathering tears to spill down her face and glared at her.

  “Do you have any idea how stupid it is for a vulnerable, tipsy girl to walk home alone, in the dark, at this hour?” he snarled at her.

  She bit her lip, her face flushing with shame.

  “It was a very stupid thing to do Sir- I'm sorry I didn't think”.

  He pulled her to her feet by her hair and shoved her towards the door.

  “Get yourself a pint glass of water, brush your teeth, get into your pyjamas and go to bed.”

  She nodded meekly and made her way towards the door, sniffling softly, her ears still ringing from the slap. Looking over her shoulder she saw that he had turned back around in disgust.

  He did not come up to tuck her in, nor did he hold her to him when he finally lay down next to her. It was one of the loneliest nights she had experienced- too scared to reach out to him and too ashamed to talk.

  The next morning he sent her downstairs to make a cup of tea and upon her return informed her that she was grounded for a month and hopefully during that time she could reflect upon her reckless behaviour and try to understand why he was so angry.

  She had accepted her punishment graciously and at last his face softened and he pulled her to him.

  That had been two weeks ago and in that time she had not put a foot wrong. Emily was one of her best friends- she knew she wouldn't be forgiven if she didn't make an appearance.

  “Please Sir, I know how irresponsible I was. I don't want to let Emily down. Please, even if it is just for an hour. I promise to get a taxi back this time and to call you. I'll come back for whatever time you tell me. I won't even have a drink Sir.”

  He looked down at the thoughtfully and his jaw tightened.

  She fluttered her eyelashes and crossed her fingers, holding her breath as she awaited his answer.

  Eventually he spoke... “If you truly believe you have learnt you lesson little one and you faithfully promise to never act so stupidly again- you may go out tonight.”

  She beamed up at him and threw her arms around his chest- kissing him through his shirt.

  “Thank you Sir, I won't let you down!” And with that she excitedly skipped out of the room and bounded upstairs to get ready.

  An hour later she walked into the bar. Sir had nodded his approval at her carefully selected outfit. The black dress highlighted her curves but revealed only a hint of cleavage. It ended a couple of inches above the knees, respectfully covering the tops of her lace stockings. She wore a delicate silver sequinned shawl over her shoulders and her favourite black stiletto heels. Small diamond studs winked from her ear lobes and her hair was tousled naturally and had been pulled over her left shoulder. She knew that she looked good.

  Feeling a rush of excitement at being out of the house she slipped her way to the front of the bar and ordered an orange juice. Reaching into her clutch bag she fumbled around for her purse. It wasn't there. The colour drained from her face as she emptied the contents of the bag out over the surface of the bar. Lip gloss, a hair bush, some chewing gum, her mobile phone and her house keys poured out- but her purse was nowhere in sight. Gathering up her possessions she raced to the toilets and pulled her phone out. Shaking with fear she tapped in Sir's number and tried not to cry as the dial tone droned on. No answer. He was going to be furious.

  Taking a deep breath she thought about her options. She could borrow the money for a taxi off one of her friends or she could get a taxi home and ask Sir to pay for it upon her return and have to admit that she'd forgotten her purse or she could risk walking back again and face his fury. The first option definitely sounded the best. She left the toilet and looked around for her friends. They were nowhere to be seen.

  Panicking she did a lap of the bar. Still no sign of them. Pulling out her phone she called Emily's number, then Heather's, then Jade's. No one picked up. Cursing them under her breath she stepped outside and leaned back against the wall trying not to cry.

  A good looking man with dark hair and kind green eyes approached her holding out a cigarette.

  “Alright love? Looks like you could do with a smoke.”

  She paused. Sir hated the fact she smoked. He detested the smell of it and had forbidden her to smoke unless she had his specific permission. But oh how she wanted one and it was the least of her worries right now.

  “Thank you.” She smiled shyly at him and took the cigarette, letting the man light it for her before taking a deep drag.

  “I saw you wandering around the bar looking lost- can't find your friends?”

  She suddenly felt grateful for his presence and comforted by the company. “They must have thought I'd gone home and moved on elsewhere. Now I don't know what to do because I've left my purse at home, no one is answering their phone and I can't afford a taxi home.”

  He smiled at her sympathetically.

  “Too far too walk?” he asked

  “Not really, but my partner doesn't like me walking on my own at night,” she explained.

  He nodded thoughtfully and they stood in companionable silence.

  Taking her phone out again she tried calling Sir, but still it rang straight to voice mail. Not knowing what to say she decided not to leave a message but tried her friends again- groaning in frustration when no one answered.

  “Look, I know you don't know me but if you're from nearby I'm more than happy to give you a lift home. I know the manager here- they can vouch for me. I too would like to see you get home safely.” He shrugged and smiled down at her- turning to wave to the doorman as if to verify his story.

  She bit her lip and pondered. The doorman waved back at the man and he did look very sincere and considerate. She could call Sir in the car and pretend she was in a taxi. He would never know. She would arrive back safely, sober and at a respectable hour- and he would be pleased with her again and trust her to go out.

  “Would you really do that for me?” She asked.

  “Of course, call me your knight in shining armour- I'm a sucker from damsels in distress.” He winked at her and flicked his cigarette butt on the floor.
r />   She flushed and wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders ready to follow him to his car...

  Part Two

  Slipping into the front seat of the car, she quickly questioned if getting into a car with a complete stranger was a better option than infuriating her beloved Sir again. She wasn't scared of the punishment she knew she'd receive- not at all, she fully accepted she was in the wrong. What scared her was letting him down again, so soon after the last time.

  While she was lost in thought she failed to notice the man next to her tapping away discreetly on his mobile.

  The man settled back and put the car into reverse.

  “Where we headed then?” he asked.

  “Down to Armitage Road and then onto Heath Bank please,” she smiled gratefully at him.

  His phone bleeped loudly as he set off.

  “I don't even know your name,” she commented with embarrassment.

  He chuckled and didn't answer her but instead pressed a button on his door causing the doors in the car to lock. She looked at him questioningly trying to ignore the alarm bells that had started sounded in her head.

  “Surely you don't think I'll jump out the car do you?” she laughed nervously.

  He turned and grinned at her, “Oh I don't think that will be a problem Layla.”

  Her heart stopped and she froze in fear. “How do you know my name?” she whispered?

  Suddenly he swerved over to the side of the road and stopped the car. Before she could question his actions yet again he surged forwards and pinned her with one hand to the throat. She clawed at his arms, trying to scratch him beneath his jacket and kicked out wildly. The grip around her delicate neck intensified and she choked, feeling her lungs compressing inside her chest.

  He was so strong. Her arms were weakening and her legs started to feel heavy. He was rummaging in the glove compartment now. With one last effort she drew her knees up and kicked him hard in the chin.

  “Agghh! You bitch!,” he cursed. He reached over and squeezed her throat with even more force, clamping her nostrils together. Her eyes widened and she desperately clawed at the door. His face wasn't so friendly now.

  “Sir... I'm so sorry,” was her last thought before her world turned black.

  I'm alive she marvelled as she started to come round. She tried to open her eyes but they wouldn't work. She concentrated harder but her head was spinning. She attempted to blink but still, everything was black. Trying to remain calm she attempted to lift a hand to her face. Her wrist pulled at something and refused to budge. She pulled again, harder this time and heard a vague clank. She tried the other arm. The same thing happened. A loud sob escaped her lips and she tried to pull both hands up at the same time. They held fast and something cold and solid pressed into her wrists.

  Next she tried to move her legs. It was pointless. They were restrained just as tightly as her arms. Oh god she thought, where the hell am I? It was then she shivered. A cool breeze bit at her bare skin and with a howl of despair she realised she was naked. The hard wooden floorboards beneath her cruelly pressed into her soft skin. Her eyes weren't stuck shut, they were covered. She struggled and writhed against the metal encircling her wrists and ankles- fiercely twisting her body back and forth, trying to lunge upright.

  “Are you watching me you sick bastard?!” she screamed into the silent room.

  No one replied.

  Bursting into tears of terror she let her body go limp and pleaded with the motionless room. “Please let me go, please. I don't know what you want from me. Take anything from my bag, please- just let me go home.”

  Her voice echoed around the room as the air grew even cooler. Just as she started to ponder whether death might have been the better option she heard footsteps. Her voice caught in her throat and she lay paralysed with fear. Any bravado from before vanished without a trace.

  “You're awake then,” a voice said. “I've been sorting that bruise you gave me on my chin. Seems like the ice has finally numbed it.”

  Yes she thought... a car...a man... a cigarette. The promise of a safe ride home. She was remembering.

  She stayed motionless- maybe if she didn't move he would go away she thought.

  “Ignoring me are you?” He tutted. “So you're rude as well as stupid. Didn't your Daddy ever tell you no to get in cars with strangers?”

  The word Daddy hit her like a punch to the stomach. Sir. He would be beyond worried now. Especially after the number of missed calls she'd left him. She pictured his face, his strong arms pulling her onto his lap and wrapping them securely around her frame. Her lip quivered and another sob sang its way around the room.

  “Please... I'm sorry. Just... please- I want to go home. I won't tell anyone what you did, I promise,” she whimpered.

  He chuckled and she heard movement, sensed him lowering himself to her. She flinched as a fingertip traced its way over her neck.

  “Don't touch me, please, don't touch me!” she cried.

  The fingertip was replaced by a hand, pressing down on her bruised skin. Oh god, he's going to choke me to death this time she thought. The hand withdrew and the figure next to her rose. Then there were footsteps moving away from her and the room was silent once more.

  Part Three

  Seconds, minutes, hours passed. She had no concept of time. She lay still, listening for the slightest sound. Her body was shaking with the cold now. Again and again she focused on her Sir's face. His twinkling eyes, the way one side of his lip curved upwards when she did something that pleased him, the way he would cradle her face between his palms as if she were the most delicate ornament he had ever touched. She pictured him in his slippers- the ones with the giant holes in the soles that he refused to replace because they were too comfy to give up.

  She thought back to three nights ago when she had knelt at his feet and begged him to flog her. She was hopeless with pain but craved seeing that evil smile light up his face. She was desperate to prove how brave she could be, how strong and determined. He hadn't held back. He had lured her into a false sense of security- warming her up gradually. Stopping and trailing the beautifully soft leather over her skin, making her body arch up towards it. Then he had been brutal- he had made her cry and continued flogging her only stopping to wipe away her tears.

  When he had finished he had scooped her up in his big strong arms and stood her in front of the mirror. Together they had admired the glowing marks and bruised skin. He had beamed down at her so proudly before laying her down between the sheets and making love to her. He had made her beg for permission to come and brought her to the edge over and over again, taking delight in denying her the release she so desperately needed. Finally when she could hold on no longer he'd whispered the magic word in her ear and her body surrendered to him. Whilst she came he gripped her hips, repeating over and over again how proud he was of her, and what a brave little girl she was.

  “I'll be brave for you Sir,” she whispered into the nothingness. “I promise I'll be brave.”

  Footsteps broke the silence once more. There were no words this time. Before she had time to register what was happening, the figure had knelt between her legs and had clamped a rough hand over her mouth. She squirmed in surprise and nearly dislocated her shoulder with the force in which she tried to free herself. Again fingers brushed over the bruises across her neck- as though examining them. Sucking some of the stranger’s skin into her mouth, she sank her teeth into his hand. There was a grunt of anger before a fist smashed against her cheekbone.

  The dizziness almost made her retch and she lay stunned, too shocked to even cry. The hand moved down to her breasts. Cruel fingers dug into her mounds of flesh, twisting them back and forth, slapping them with such force she retched silently again. With her last remaining strength Layla remembered the promise she has made to her Sir. She took the pain, the abuse the merc
iless manhandling. She bit her tongue to avoid screaming out in pain, knowing that's what was wanted from her. Then her nipples were being pulled away from her body. She arched her back and tried to go with them, anything to reduce the fiery pain threatening to cause her to shriek in agony.

  The torture stopped as suddenly as it has started. She gasped for breath, realising she'd been concentrating so hard on not screaming that she'd almost forgotten to breathe. But before she could wonder what would happen next a thumb was pressed against her naked cunt making her moan and sob in protest. Fingers stretched her lips apart, holding her open in the freezing cold air. She could feel the stranger's eyes burning into her sex. She squirmed with humiliation. He was taking his time, deliberately making her feel ashamed and embarrassed.

  “Is she wet?”

  Layla jumped a mile. The voice had not come from between her legs but from a corner of the room. It was his voice-the bastard with the cigarette. The one who had choked her. So who the hell was between her legs? Had he brought her here for the amusement of his friends?

  No answer was spoken. But the figure must have gestured a response.

  “Ha I thought so. She was murmuring to herself earlier about floggings and how much she wanted her “Sir” to make her come. I imagine she's got herself into quite an excited state.”

  She flushed red, anger overtook her.

  “You fucker!” she screamed. “They were private thoughts. They weren't for you!”

  Laughter resounded in her ears.

  “Well you shouldn't have shared them out loud, should you Layla?”

  She lifted her head as much as possible and spat in the direction of the voice.

  Another sharp tut came from the figure between her legs, then “thwack!” A hand came down hard on her cunt- forcing her body to pull at the chains securing her down. She turned her head to the side and felt the tears soaking through her blindfold and down her bruised cheek.