Chapter 25
Grace
I underestimated the strain I’d put on my body when he left me tied up like this. It wasn’t too bad at first, only a slight discomfort around my shoulders and upper arms. But the longer I’ve been sitting here, with my hands tied up behind my back as I’m secured to the chair, the more I’m suffering.
Discomfort has turned into pain, and pain has turned into pure agony.
Yet, I’m happy.
Bound with rope, I found solace in the knowledge that this act is not meant to harm but to awaken something within us both—a catalyst for growth and exploration.
I’ve watched the sun travel across the valley, trees waving in the wind, inhabited by birds—sparrows mostly, I believe—and squirrels. It’s oddly entertaining to watch them scurry between the branches, and their playful banter kept me distracted from the burn of the rope cutting into my sensitive skin as I stretch against my restraints.
A thin layer of sweat is dabbling the skin on my face, speaking of the internal struggle I’ve been experiencing ever since he left me like this. I’m in pain, but I’m calmer than I’ve ever been in my life before. Despite everything, I feel weirdly at ease, snug and comfortable, and stupidly content.
I feel high. I’ve never tried any kind of drug before, but I imagine that this is the kind of elation that many people seek when they consume. Lightheaded, relaxed, calm, safe and connected, as if a lifelong search for a place to belong had finally come to an end.
I don’t know how long it’s been since he left, but it must have been a couple of hours, judging by the way the sun has moved along the horizon. The sky is beginning to fade into warmer colors, daylight turning to dusk as vibrant tones of orange and violet paint the scenery.
I’ve never seen anything this beautiful.
The sound of the door lock tears me back to reality, invading my serene high with its pervasive sound. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed by his return at first, but once the haze inside my head diminishes and I’m fully awake again, I can’t wait for the restraints around my wrists to be removed.
“How are you?” he asks in a soft voice, placing his hand on my shoulder before he moves into sight, going down on his knees right in front of me. Concern is lacing his handsome expression, honest and real concern for me.
“Good,” I sigh, sounding just as high as I felt a few moments ago. “But my arms...”
“You did well,” he praises me, before planting a kiss on my forehead. “Very good girl.”
His praise fills me with a warm flood of pride. He is right, I did well. I asked for this, knowing the ache of being restrained would distract from my inner emotional turmoil. I knew it would be hard on my body, but not as hard to endure as an idle mind. My emotions can’t get the better of me, if they’re not the worst I have to deal with.
“Don’t move too quickly,” he warns, as he begins to untie me, starting with the knots around my wrists. “You’ll be stiff and sore, and your blood pressure-”
“I know,” I interject. “I can handle it.”
He chuckles. “I know you can.”
I release an audible sigh of relief once my arms are free, slowly moving them to the front while a new high rushes through every fiber of my being. I can literally feel the blood flowing through my veins, pumping life into every little corner of my body, and invigoratingly so.
“Wow,” I breathe, closing my eyes, while he begins to fiddle with the rope around my ankles. “This is... nice.”
“Enjoy it,” he murmurs at my feet. “You earned it.”
I soak in the feeling of utter relaxation for a few more breaths, before I open my eyes again. The sunset is now in full bloom, the valley immersed in dark orange colors, as if someone had put a filter on reality.
The rope runs hot across my skin when he removes the ties from my body, his motions cautious but determined. I mistake the tense expression on his face for focus at first, but come to realize now, that it’s not just that. I have seen him focused before, but he never looked this grim and occupied.
“Is something wrong?” I ask against better judgment. Even if there was, why would he tell me?
And as expected, he simply shakes his head, not even looking at me while he continues to gather the rope in his arms. His thinned lips and the crease between his brows speak a different language.
I managed to make him talk before, so I’m confident I can do it again—if I can come up with the right things to say. A question is dancing on my tongue, but it’s the same question that he left unanswered many times before.
What are you going to do to me? What will happen next?
There’s no reason why he would tell me now, especially not when he’s already strained by whatever it is that’s bothering him.
So, I chose to try something a little different.
“Things can’t stay like this forever,” I say in a low voice, keeping my eyes fixated on him.
Still, he refuses to look at me, his gaze firmly locked on the rope in his hands, as he retreats and disappears behind my back. I realize that my hands are still crossed behind my back despite being freed of the rope. My muscles ache and I suck in a sharp breath of air, carefully rotating my shoulders and my wrists as I bring my arms to the front. Another sigh of relief echoes through the room, followed by the sound of a drawer being opened behind my back.
Curious, I turn around, only to find him rummaging through one of the drawers of the dresser. It’s not the one he opened to retrieve the toy earlier, and it doesn’t look like he pulled it open to store the rope inside, like I first thought. Instead, he reaches inside to take something out.
“Put this on,” he says, as he walks back to me, throwing a few pieces of clothing—all in white—in my lap.
I freeze, too startled to know what to say. My wide-eyed gaze flits back and forth between him and the pile in my lap.
“Whose are these?” I want to know.
“Yours,” he says. “I want you to put them on.
My surprise grows even bigger, when he bends down and begins fiddling with the hook at the front of my collar, unclasping the leash from it for the first time since he tied me down with it.
“Get dressed,” he repeats his command. “Now.”
“Yes, sir,” I hurry to reply.
Eager to act before he can change his mind, I jump up from my chair—and instantly lose my balance. Stars are appearing before my eyes, joined by a faint ringing, as he catches me in his arms.
“Careful there,” he warns. “You’ve been sitting for a long time, give your body some time to adjust, for God’s sake.”
“I’m sorry,” I utter, holding on to him with one hand while I keep the clothes pressed against my chest with the other.
He waits for a few more seconds, before he lets go of me, his eyes fixed on me as I take a moment to find my balance, before I begin dressing myself. He handed me a sleeveless summer dress, a matching camisole and a set of lacy underwear, cute and simple—and all in the same off-white color. All of it fits perfectly and the soft fabric feels like a warm hug against my skin, but also weirdly tight.
“Looks perfect on you, just like I thought,” he comments, a benevolent smile gracing his face as he studies me from a few steps away.
“It feels odd,” I admit, tugging at the dress, that suddenly feels claustrophobic. “It’s so close to my body.”
He laughs and comes closer, quashing the eyeblink of freedom he granted me before, by reattaching the leash to the collar around my neck. I need a moment, before I realize that he didn’t use the same leash I was chained to before.
“What is this?” I ask, holding up the leather string that’s now attached to my collar. It’s short like the one before, looking like an actual dog leash with clasps on each end.
He keeps the other end in a tight grip inside his fist, wrapping around his closed hand a couple of times until there’s just about three feet of length left.
“Just a precaution,” he informs me. “You’re coming with me.”
“Coming with you where?”
“Downstairs,” he says in a matter-of-fact voice, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
My eyes widen in shock, which evokes a sinister smile on his face.
“But I’m warning you, one little misdemeanor and you’ll regret it,” he warns. “Will you promise to be a good girl?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
My words are sincere, but he still throws me a skeptical look, pinning me in place for a moment, seemingly searching my eyes for a lie that isn’t there.
He takes a deep breath and nods, before he turns on his heels, pulling me with him as he strides toward the door.
My heart is racing furiously, its beat palpable up to my ears as he opens the door and we leave the room together.