The Ritual

RYAT

I UNLOCK THE door and enter. A quick look at my watch tells me it’s almost one in the morning. I walk into the bedroom to find her lying on her left side, sound asleep. The popcorn still on the bed next to her with the TV on the Netflix home screen and empty wine bottle on the nightstand.

I drop the bag next to her and open it up. Reaching in, I pull out everything that I’m going to need. Then I go over to her dresser drawer and pull out a see-through thong. Walking back over to her, I grip the covers and rip them off her. She stirs, moving onto her stomach.

Perfect.

I get on the bed and grab her arms, gently pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists. She moans, her head moving. I grab the zip tie and wrap it around them, securing it tightly.

“What …?” she mumbles sleepily.

Then I reach up, grab a handful of her hair, and yank her face off the pillow. She screams, fully awake now. Sitting on her back, I reach around and shove the thong into her mouth and immediately grab the duct tape. Snapping a piece off with my teeth, I place it over her mouth, securing them inside, all the while she’s kicking and mumbling into the gag.

I shove her face into the pillow while my free hand grabs the black drawstring bag. Letting go of her hair just for a second, she lifts her head to suck in a breath through her nose, and I shove the bag over her head and pull the drawstring, tying it off at the back of her neck to keep it in place, but loose enough where she can still breathe in fresh air through the bottom.

Getting off her, she’s flopping around trying to free herself when I grab her legs and place another zip tie around her ankles. Then I throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of the apartment.

I take her out the side exit where I’ve already got my SUV parked. Opening the back, I place her on her stomach. I pick up the rope that I already had sitting in the back and quickly slide it between her tied wrists and then also slide it between her tied ankles, pulling it tight—hog-tying her.

Stepping back, I watch her fight the restraints, wearing herself down. She’s mumbling nonsense through her gag, and her body is shaking. She can’t see me through the bag over her head. I’ve taken all but her hearing away from her. And even that has to be limited by the rush of adrenaline—the blood rushing in her ears.

Placing my hand on her shoulder, I push her onto her side and rip her shirt up to expose her breasts to me. I reach out, wrapping one hand around her throat while the other squeezes her breast. I lean down and whisper, “Scream all you want, little one. You’re mine now.”

Then I slam the hatch shut.

_______________

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I pull off the highway to a gravel road and come up to the house. I get out and walk around the back of the SUV. She’s still struggling on her side. Reaching into my pocket, I cut the rope but leave the zip ties. Her feet fall to the floor, and I pull her out of the back by her arm before once again throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into the house.

Making my way down the hallway, I reach up and slap her ass, and she moans.

I kick the bedroom door open and toss her onto the bed. I was here earlier and prepared it by removing the comforter and top sheet, and dropping off what items I would need. Rolling her onto her stomach, I cut the zip tie that binds her arms, then shove her to her back as I straddle her chest.

She screams behind her gag, and her arms slap at me. But I easily grab her left hand and shove it through the slip knot I’ve already made in the rope that is secured to the bed frame. I then do the same with the right.

Getting off the bed, she kicks her zip-tied feet, twisting her body to the left and right. I walk down to the end of the bed and cut that tie as well. Then I secure each ankle to a bedpost with rope, wide apart, making her spread eagle. Then I stand at the end and look over her. Her shirt has ridden up in her struggle to expose her pierced belly button. My eyes travel down to her gray boy shorts. There’s a wet spot.

I knew there would be. This was a fantasy of hers. Fuck Matt for making her feel ashamed for what she wants.