The Prey

“Thank you, sir.” She meant it.

He patted her face with her napkin, pushed back from the table and rose. “It’s time,” he said. Mara waited, but he didn’t elaborate. Her heart began to beat as rapidly as hummingbird wings.

Alex picked up the leash he’d draped over one of the chairs and clipped it to Mara’s collar. He walked out of the kitchen, tugging her along on her hands and knees behind him.

They passed through the living room and into the hallway that contained the bedrooms, moving past her closet and his room to a third door. As they entered what could only be called a torture chamber, Mara looked around the space with a rising sense of dread.

Alex led her to a bondage table and gave her leash a tug. “Up you go, on your hands and knees on the table.”

In spite of the direct order, Mara shrank back. “No, please, sir, I’m so tired.”

“Did I hear a no from you, zero?” Alex spoke in a tight, dangerous voice, his eyes flashing. Fear fueled Mara’s limbs and she somehow managed to hoist herself onto the table.

“That’s better. Now, rest your head on the table for support,” he instructed, “and bring your hands together behind your back.”

Wearily, Mara lowered herself and rested her cheek on the smooth, padded leather. Alex bustled behind her, wrapping rope snugly around her wrists and winding it upward until her arms were bound tightly from wrist to elbow. She shifted, trying to keep her balance in the awkward position.

Just get through this. It’s just another session like all the others. You can do it. You can go to the safe place until he’s done.

Next he put cuffs around her ankles and clipped them to large eyebolts on either side of the table, forcing Mara’s legs farther apart, her pussy and asshole on full display. She tensed, her body readying itself for whatever torture was sure to follow.

Alex appeared beside her. “I’ll be back in a few. Don’t go anywhere.” He chuckled as if he’d said something funny, then walked out of her line of sight. She could hear his footsteps as he retreated, and she was left alone.

She closed her eyes again, picturing the ocean, imagining herself as a white bird with wings spread wide. For a while she was almost able to fly, her mind drifting in the fresh sea air. Then her right calf seized in a painful cramp, jerking her back to the stark reality of her situation.

She attempted to shift in an effort to find a more comfortable position, though her bonds prevented much movement. The minutes ticked by. Where had he gone? When would he come back? What was he going to do to her? Would he hurt her or pleasure her when he returned?

It was so confusing, so terrifying never to know which Alex would appear—the sensual sadist, or the cruel, terrifying madman who could as easily kill her as not, and no one, not a soul, would intervene to save her. A small whimper escaped her lips. How long could she go on like this?

She opened and closed her fingers and turned her head to the other side. Closing her eyes, she sighed with relief as her mind began to drift, carrying her toward her safe place. Warm saltwater undulated softly beneath her. Gratefully, she floated in its buoyant, encompassing embrace. A lone bird soared lazily over her head. A school of tiny silver fish fluttered past her in a shimmering ripple.

The sound of footsteps caused the ocean and sky to fall sharply away as Mara returned with a vengeance to the torture chamber. Alex moved behind her, whistling quietly under his breath. To her surprise, he unknotted and unwound the rope from her arms. Mara let them fall heavily to either side of her body.

Alex stepped away from her, returning a moment later with a large, wedge-shaped black pillow. He slid the pillow under her, positioning it so the high end of the wedge rested comfortably beneath her hips and stomach.

Mara sagged against the cushion as Alex gripped her wrists and pulled her arms over her head. He wrapped a wide cuff around both wrists and clipped the cuff to an eyebolt at the head of the table. She was rendered completely immobile in this position, the foam pillow wedged firmly beneath her, her ankles still cuffed to the table, her ass and pussy completely exposed.

Alex crouched down in front of her and held something up. “Know what these are?” In his hand was a clear sleeve that contained perhaps a dozen long, thin needles with blue plastic caps on their tips.

“Needles?” she whispered, dread gripping her innards.

“Yes. I’ve been remiss in your training to date. Some of our kinkier guests enjoy needle play, and I permit it, as long as they know what they’re doing.” His voice was oddly playful, his green eyes glinting with sadistic delight. “These are very sharp, but the needles are thin and, if used correctly, will just leave you a bit sore—no permanent damage. I’d like to see how many of these I can thread through your pretty little labia.”