Silent Daughter 2: Bound (6 page)

"It's too late now," he says and walks over to the table. "But you should remember next time."

"Yes, Master," I hear myself whisper, my voice sounding as if it belongs to another person.

"Get up," he says. "You wanted coffee, didn't you?"

I get back up on my feet and follow him to the table, where he has seated himself in the same chair he sits in every time I eat.

He looks up at me expectantly.

"You look cute," he comments. "But I'm not seeing enough of you. Lose that robe."

I hesitate. "But I still have nothing to wear."

He chuckles and raises his eyebrows. "That's quite alright with me, young lady. Go ahead."

It may be alright with him, but I certainly don't feel comfortable walking around naked most of the time, especially in front of him.

I slowly open the belt of my robe and let out a little sigh when I drop it to the floor. The temperature of the room is comfortable, and I am not freezing, but I still feel as if my body is met with an ice cold breeze when I remove the only layer of fabric that has been wrapped around me since I got here.

I remain in place, awkwardly standing next to the table while he assesses me with his hungry eyes. While his gaze is intense, it doesn't feel as intimidating anymore as it did before.

He smiles and nods with approval.

"Perfectly beautiful," he whispers.

He looks up, his eyes fixating mine. "Never deprive me of that delicious view, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Now, pour us some coffee," he adds and gestures toward the coffeepot.

I nod and lift up the coffee pot, filling a cup for him and another for myself, careful not to bring the hot pot too close to my naked body.

"Milk? Sugar?" I ask without looking at him.

"No," he says. "Not for me. But add to yours whatever you wish."

I add some milk to my coffee and look at him expectantly.

"Are you not going to sit down?" he asks, an evil smirk fleeing across his face.

LEONARD

I know sitting will hurt her, and I cannot wait to see the expression on her face when her sore butt hits the chair. She will probably try to hide it and act strong, but even the slightest flicker in her eyes will tell me of the pain she experiences while sitting down. A gentle reminder for her to show the obedience I expect of her.

She doesn't look at me while she slowly sinks onto her chair, supporting herself on the table as she went. She bites her lower lip, and her eyes squint for a moment when her sore butt meets the wooden chair. A sharp inhale accompanies the motion as she finally sits down.

"Too cute," I say, trying to tease her, but she doesn't react to me. Instead, she grabs her coffee mug and lifts it up to her face, clinging to it with both hands as if her life depends on it.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," she claims before she takes her first sip.

"I'm glad to hear that," I say. "Because there's still more where that came from."

She cannot hide the horror on her face when she turns around to me after that statement.

"That was just an immediate response to your backtalk this morning," I explain. "You still owe me five proper strokes with the belt."

She gasps. "What for?"

"Watch yourself," I warn her. "I can easily add more if you give me more of that attitude."

She frowns but remains silent.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

It's not sincere; I can tell by the tone of her voice.

"Would you tell me what those five strokes are for?" she asks. "Please. So I can learn."

"Do you want to learn?" I ask her.

She nods. "Yes, Master."

"Learn to do what?"

Her eyes widen. She did not expect that question.

She clears her throat and takes another sip of her coffee before she can come up with an answer.

"To please you?" she says. I don't like the question mark at the end of her sentence, but I will let it go for now.

"To be as you wish me," she adds.

"And that is?"

"Willing and obedient," she replies, sounding like a robot.

I know she only says these things because she knows that's what I want to hear from her. I don't like it, but I know there is little more I can expect of her for now. She still resents me for capturing her.

It won't last. I'm sure.

Our eyes meet. Hers have changed color again. Now that the room is flooded with daylight, they are more blue than green but darker than they were this morning.

Her long eyelashes are painted in thick black, and she added a subtle line on her upper eyelid causing her already big eyes to pop even more, especially since she is not wearing any lipstick.

"Three for trying to untie yourself," I say. "And two for giving me the finger through the camera last night."

She gulps and nods. "Alright. That seems fair."

"Does it?" I ask.

She shakes her head and finishes her coffee. "Of course not."

"Don't say it then."

She shrugs and leans back in her chair, stretching her neck and arms. Her boobs jiggle as she moves, and I am reminded that they haven't gotten the attention they deserve so far.

My cock rises to attention, poking against the fabric of my pants as I think of ways to play with her.

She notices my eyes on her naked body but doesn't seem to dislike it. The way she is stretching on the chair helps me come up with a new idea.

"So, what now?" she asks. "What am I supposed to be doing all day?"

"You seem to be comfortable in that chair," I say. "It doesn't hurt your ass too much?"

She glares at me. "I can handle it."

"How would you feel about being tied to that chair?" I ask.

She lowers her arms and crouches in her chair, hugging herself as if she was seeking protection.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"I know you like the feeling of rope around your limbs," I say. "I want to show you how much better that feeling can be if it's done properly."

She looks at me with an unreadable face.

"Get up," I command.

To my surprise, she jumps up from her chair right away and steps aside, her shoulders pulled up and her arms pressed against the side of her body.

"Pick up the chair and place it beneath the window," I add.

She nods and follows my command. I check out her perky butt as she turns around to carry the chair over to the window. It's red and a little sore, but not beaten up too bad.

She won't need a pillow.

She puts the chair beneath the window, a few feet away from it, exactly where I wanted her to, but it is facing in the wrong direction.

"Oh, no," I say. "Turn it around so it's facing the window. You like the view, don't you?"

She picks up the chair and turns it around, not without casting me a nasty look.

I raise my chin and beckon towards the chair. "Sit."

Liz sits down on the chair in a straight and unnatural position, her feet firmly on the ground and her hands in her lap.

I place myself between her and the window, turning my back to the outside world as I look down on her.

"Can you put your feet on the seat?" I ask.

She looks up at me like a helpless child, unsure what to do.

"Well, can you?" I repeat.

"I don't know..."

"How about you try it, then?"

She sinks a bit lower into the chair and lifts her knees, tucking her feet next to her red behind. The position is not comfortable, but it will get easier for her once I tie her feet up. I am glad to see that she is flexible enough to hold the position even without a rope to keep her in place.

She holds her feet in place with her hands but manages to look up at me, her blue-green eyes asking whether she is doing it right.

The daylight is hitting her exposed center, highlighting the fact that she is enjoying herself more than she lets on.

I cannot wait to let her feel the rope around her limbs.

"Good girl. Stay like this."

I walk over to the dresser and fetch my black rope from one of the drawers.

"Keep your feet where they are, but put your hands behind your back with your wrists to the opposite elbow."

She struggles a little at first but manages to position herself just like I want her. I can tell that it is hard for her to keep the position, though. She is breathing hard, and the grimace on her face displays the strain that goes along with keeping her feet up.

"This will make it easier," I say and quickly tie her right leg up in a frog tie so that her lower leg is bound to her thigh. She moans when I do the same to the other leg and use the rest of the long rope to tie her back against the backrest of the chair.

Her back is slightly arched, and I add another piece of rope to tie it around her chest, above and beneath her round breasts, emphasizing their perfect size and position. Her nipples are erect and pointing upwards, practically begging for torture.

Her breathing accelerated, and the rope cuts into her flesh with every deep inhale she takes.

For a few moments, I just stand there and watch her process the feeling. She has her eyes closed and her head thrown back, with her long hair falling behind the backrest of the chair in beautiful, brown waves.

I knew she would love it.

"How do you feel?" I ask, as I slowly caress along the inner side of her right thigh. She shivers and moans and my touch.

"Good," she breathes.

"Just good, huh?" I ask. "You look like you are about to explode, young lady."

She blushes and presses her eyes shut even more.

I don't say anything further, but move my hand closer to her center. She is spread wide open due to her position, and I know that shame is fueling her arousal just as much as the pain is.

I spread her lips even further and let a finger slide in between them, gently teasing her wet entrance.

"Good, huh?" I repeat, and she shivers with embarrassment. "I don't think you're being completely honest with me here."

She shakes her head helplessly. "Please..."

"Please, what?" I ask.

She groans with pleasure when I add another finger, teasing her clit while spreading her from the inside.

She bites her lips. It is hard to tell whether she doesn't know what to say or if she just doesn't dare to say what's on her mind. It might be both.

I withdraw my fingers which she marks with a disappointed sigh. She opens her eyes and looks at me as I straighten up before her. Embarrassed, pleading and dizzy with lust. Her eyes are half-closed, but her pupils are wide as if she was on drugs.

In a way, she is. This is her first time nearing the state of rope drunk.

I retreat and decide to make it even better for her. The drawers in her dresser provide everything I need to give her what I want.

I choose a few items and return to her, going down on my knees in front of her center. She is squirming and moaning, but still incapable of speaking. Her body flinches when I grace along the inner side of her thigh with one of the toys I produced from the dresser. It is a little vibrating plug that will keep her on a plateau of lust until I decide that it is time for her to come.

I switch it on and circle her swollen labia with it, causing her to groan with pleasure, her legs yanking against the restraints. I circle her most sensitive spot, teasing her endlessly until I finally grant her the pleasure of pressing the vibrating tip directly against her clit.

She throws her head back and moans, squirming so violently that the chair almost falls over.

Then I stop. I withdraw the toy and watch her shiver and breathe, coping with her excitement.

The sight of her drives me insane. My cock is so hard that it almost hurts, fighting against the constriction of my pants like Liz fighting her confinement.

Her foot twitches uncontrollably next to me, a clear sign of her mental state.

"Good girl," I praise her, distracting her for a moment before I push the toy inside of her.

She whimpers with lust as the toy continues to tease her from the inside.

I get back up on my feet to have a better view of her.

"Beautiful," I assess.

Liz opens her eyes to look at me. They are a clear blue now, reflecting the sky outside. Her lower lip is shivering.

"Open your mouth," I order. "And stick out your tongue."

She obeys instantly. With the state she is in right now, I could probably ask anything of her. She is so close to climaxing, but the way the vibrating toy teases her is just not enough to bring her over the edge.

She opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang out, just like I asked her to. My perfect little bitch in heat.

I rub the hardness between my legs and her eyes follow my hands.

"You are such a perfect slut," I whisper. "Aren't you?"

She looks up at me, breathing heavily and with her tongue still stuck out. Her eyes are glistening and her cheeks are painted in pink, flushed with excitement. I don't think she has ever been this aroused in her life.

Liz doesn't say a thing, but her eyes beg for release. She wants to come. She needs to come.

But I won't let her. Not yet. 

A hint of disappointment flees across her face when I remove my hand from my crotch and walk away again.

I need to see something else.

When I return from the dresser this time, I am holding a little leather flogger. It is shorter than my lower arm, and the tails are thin and dainty. It looks rather harmless, but how much pain can be inflicted with it depends entirely on the way it is used.

Liz's eyes flicker when she sees the flogger in my hands. I observe her, expecting protest. But she doesn't say anything, nor does she shake her head.