The Postman

Every morning she would wake before 7am, even though she knew the postman never arrived before 9:30am. Her first task of the morning would be to write his letter. Taking great care over the format, grammar and spelling, knowing her harshest punishments had been for badly written letters, and she really didn't wish for another. Sometimes it would take her two hours of rewriting to make sure it was perfectly presented. She loved the attention to detail she had to pay with everything she did for him, knowing how disappointed he was when she made a mistake in simple things like letter writing.

She would respond to his previous day's letter, answering any questions he had asked, would list any changes or additions to her calendar, then make comments on her previous day's task. Finally she would add any thoughts or comments she felt relevant. She would write an envelope out, carefully fold the letter, put it in, seal it, measure the position for the stamp, stick it on, seal it, and put it on the unit by the front door ready for posting later that day.

Then she would sit in silence until his letter arrived, she wasn't allowed to listen to music, or bathe, or eat or drink until she had received his letter. So she would sit on the edge of the sofa, wondering what the day would bring, hearing every sound outside, wondering if it was the postman coming up her path, bring her daily instructions, but she lived in a busy street and there would be a lot of extraneous noise. Occasionally she would stand watching by the window, but that just got her even more worked up than she was, and her nerves were always on edge in these moments. So she sat and quietly waited.

Eventually the familiar sound of her front gate opening, and she would leap to her feet, and head to the front door, she would stand for the fifteen seconds it took for the postman to get from her front gate to the door, it was the longest fifteen seconds of her day, she felt like a ten year old at Christmas, full of excitement and anticipation, but twisted with dread in case he had decided to give her a more challenging task than he usually did. As ever she caught the mail as it fell from the letterbox, she was always glad for having a solid front door so the postman wouldn't see how compulsive she had become.

Today there were half a dozen letters, she discarded all but his. Picked the letter opener he had sent her - he hated having envelopes torn open - and went and sat down again as she opened it and carefully removed it. Savouring the anticipation of what his perfectly composed letter would consist of. She had given up inspecting his letters for any sort of errors months before, because his letters were always absolutely perfect. Whenever she read his beautifully styled words she always felt a twinge of guilt that hers were not so perfectly presented.

She carefully unfolded it, between his immaculately spaced headers and footers, was a single word. Wait.

The thoughts ran through her mind of what she was waiting for, that mix of dread and excitement because it was clearly something unusual. He knew she had two days off work, she wondered if she would get to spend the night with him. The thrill of the thought overthrew the fear and dread, it had been so long since they'd had a night together, usually just stolen hours when they could both fit it into their schedules.

Calmly she waited, she wanted a drink, and to brush her teeth, and shower, but she couldn't, she had to sit and wait, and because that was the only instruction she had been given. So she waited.

At just gone 11am she heard her front gate open again, she jumped up and got to the window to see a UPS man walking to her front door, she got to the door and waited for him to knock, then started count to 30 before she answered so he didn't think she'd been waiting, she got to five before she decided she didn't care and just wanted to see what he'd sent her. She opened the door, only then realising she was still in her far too thin and revealing nightie, giving UPS man quite an eyeful. She quickly signed and took the box from him, took it back inside, opened it with the letter opener and nervously opened it.

Inside was another box, with a letter on top. She opened the letter and read it, it was a familiar format that he sent her, a sentence telling her to enjoy her day as she had no restrictions, followed by three lines.

The first line was a time. 7pm.

The second line was a map coordinate, and an instruction to open the box.

The third was another map coordinate.

With that she put the radio on, went and ran a bath, made some coffee, and started about her day, doing all of the normal everyday things that people do. But still with that dread, fear, and excitement of what might be to come that evening.

At 6:55pm she parked her car at the first coordinates, it was a secluded car park at distant back entrance to a large piece of parkland / moorland. At precisely 7pm she nervously she picked up the box from her passenger seat, pushed her seat back so it would fit between her and the steering wheel, turned on the interior light, and pulled open the string holding the box closed, and tentatively opened it. On top was flat sheet of paper, telling her to get out of the car, strip naked, and put on what was in the box. Without hesitation she opened the door, got out of the car, quickly looked around, and pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and dropped it to the floor, took her knickers and bra and shoes off leaned into the car and placed them on the passenger seat.

She pulled the thin silk dress out of the box, looking beneath it, hoping to find underwear, knowing she wouldn't. There was simply a dress, if it could be called that, a new pair of hold ups, and five inch heels and a small silver bag. Quickly she examined the dress, and slipped it up her legs, feeling marginally less exposed as it covered her waist, she pulled it up over her breasts, and slipped her arms in, pulling it straight over her body. Looking down she could easily see every curve and fold of her skin through the almost see through material, the darkness of her large areolas easily visible. Even in the poor reflection in the car window she could make out the darkness of the hair around her pubic bone. She was glad there was nobody around to see her. She quickly opened the box with the hold ups in, and slid them up her legs, sat on the driver's seat as she fastened the strappy heels. Picked the bag up, leaned across to her bag, fished out her mobile phone and handheld GPS unit he had sent her, put the phone in the bag, locked her car, and headed in the direction of the second set of coordinates.

He knew she hated heels, he knew how badly her tall frame walked in them, she knew he would be amused at seeing her tottering along this rough dusklit gravel path as good as naked in this stupid outfit. She felt stupid for being there, she felt stupid for allowing him this control, she felt stupid for feeling stupid. She was a strong woman, she didn't give anyone leeway, she didn't do anything she wasn't absolutely comfortable with. Yet here she was, stumbling down some stupid path going God knows where to do god knows what dressed like a slut. But most of all, she hated how he knew exactly what to do to make her liberate her darkest desires. Fuck she despised how aroused she was right now too.

After five minutes of tottering and swearing at herself the GPS was indicating she was approaching her destination which was apparently on the other side of a hedge that she was walking along. She couldn't remember an entrance earlier so she kept walking, around a small corner there was an opening, she entered and followed the hedge back, the ground was grass which made her walking even more difficult. Ahead there was a bench with somebody sat on it, but even in this light, she could see it wasn't him. Suddenly a fear built up in her, what should she do now? He couldn't be far from where she should be going. Surely he would be watching though, why hadn't he done something to warn her. She put her hand on her bag and felt her phone, wondering whether to call him. The man on the bench saw her, saw that she was hesitating and waved her to him. Not knowing what else to do she walked to him. She stood in front of him, watching him grin as his eyes scanned her body, the grin deepening as they passed her pussy and breasts. As his gaze reached her face he reached into his inside jacket pocket and handed her an unsealed envelope, the front of which had her name in his beautiful writing. She opened it, took out the piece of paper and read it. She was instructed to drop to her knees and service him until he had finished with her, then he would give her a second envelope. She carefully folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and put it into her bag. She stood for an instant deliberating her options, knowing she had none, she was shocked that he was asking her to do this though, she wondered if he was displeased with her for something and this was a punishment, or if it was he just thought was fun for him to make her do. She realised she had been standing for too long by now and he would not be pleased with her. She put the thought into her head that it was him and dropped to her knees, and tugged at his belt and buttons to release him, he did little to assist her, and she felt her arms tiring as she yanked his jeans down. Eventually she could start, she felt sad and confused as she did unable to comprehend why he would make her do this.

However since this was an instruction from him, she put all of her effort into pleasing him and shortly she felt the unfamiliar spasms and taste in her mouth. She rose, and asked if there was anything else he required. He shook his head as his hand slid up her leg and his fingers roughly spread her lips. With the other hand he took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her, it contained another set of map coordinates. He commented that she had enjoyed that as much as he had, removed his hand and pointed down a narrow path behind her. She turned and walked away, wishing she had a drink to wash his bitter taste from her mouth.

The path and coordinates led to a small overgrown cottage, that looked like it hadn’t been inhabited for a hundred years. The coordinates ended at the foot of the steps, the final instruction was to be facing North-north-west, facing directly away from the cottage.

She stood there as dusk turned to night, her feet aching in her heels, her back aching by the uncomfortable stance they put her in. She was cold and tired, and wished he would hurry up and come to her. She stood as the cold fell and the night deepened, feeling the insects crawling and feeding on her legs. Wanting to lean down and brush them away, but obviously, wasn’t allowed.

Her own shivering from the cold, and the itching bites to her legs distracted her from the sound he must have made approaching her, so the first she knew of his presence was the thick sweet smell of new leather as his hand slid around her mouth, his other hand sliding around her waist pulling her in to him. She was carried around the corner of the cottage where she was blindfolded and gagged then laid down on a cold stone floor. Her arms and legs tied, to what must have been stakes, which were then pulled taught and hammered into the floor.

Something hard and plastic was placed by the side of her head, then a metallic click of a tape recorder button being pressed, and his voice filled her head. Telling her that he was going to train her as a slut, that she should get used to her current attire she would be wearing it much more from now on, the message ended saying that of course, there was one other thing that sluts do.

With that a leather clad hand pulled her dress up to fully expose her mid rift then tore it down to show her breasts too. The words she heard were running through her mind, she was trying to decide whether the hand that had put her here was his, trying to remember his touch, and comparing it to this one, the touch was different, he never touched her like this, he was more forceful, more focused, this hand was focussing in arousing her, which he only ever did to tease her with not allowing her satisfaction. But this was definitely taking her there, she was forcibly shaking from the cold of the stone against her back, her jaw ached with trying to keep warm around the gag. Her nose couldn't keep up with the demand for air, but the gag was too big to allow anything to seep around the side of. Suddenly the leather clad fingers were replaced with a vibrator pushed hard against her, another was pushed into her, the powerful vibrations almost in tune with the shivers that were running through her bones. In a matter of minutes a powerful orgasm flooded her body, this continued for hours, she every touch was a clue to whether it was him or not, every contact with his body evidence as to whether this was him, in some moments she was convinced it was, then in others the touch was so alien she couldn't comprehend him doing such things to her. All the while she fought the cold invading her thoughts, numbing her skin making it ever more difficult to decipher his touch.

Then she heard that metallic click again, and his voice sprung into her ears, she had to concentrate on the words in order to hear them over her own shivering and exhaustion, she was told that she was to not untie herself until she was at home, as this was said she felt the stakes being pulled from the ground initially tightening then loosening the tautness of the rope around her legs and wrists. At being told remove the blind fold and gag, then to go home, the tape was stopped and she heard footsteps disappearing into the night.

She sat up, the bell of the steel stakes ringing against the stone she had been laid out on, she fumbled against the cold in her bones to untie the blindfold and gag, and tried to stand, stumbling and faltering as she tried to make her weakened legs do as instructed. Pulled the thin silk around to cover herself, collected the long steel stakes, cradling them in her arms, her bag and shoes where at the side of her, on the edge of the stone base, she knew she wouldn't be able to walk in them anymore, so picked them up, and took the long walk back to her car.

As she approached her car, she rummaged in her bag for the keys, to find they weren't there. For a moment she panicked, thinking she must have dropped them near the cottage before the walking had started to warm her, but as she approached her car she noticed that it was running, she tried to peer inside to see if there was anyone in, hoping he was there she needed his touch, needed to look in his eyes. The car was empty, just running, she opened the driver's door and a waft of hot air hit her, she sat in, the heater was on full, she smiled as the hot air enveloped her, knowing this was his touch, the gentle side to his malice that kept her so addicted to him.

Once she was a little warmer, she set off for home. Her mind still racing around the events of the evening, still wondering, hoping, that it had been him that had done those things to her tonight, her body was sore and aching, the physical pain of what had been done, and the deeper pain of the cold, finally her whole body was simply exhausted from the convulsions the shivering and orgasming had brought.

At home, she untied the rope from her arms and legs, leaving the stakes on the passenger seat. Collected her bag, and other clothes, at which point she noticed her house keys weren't on the keying, and then saw her front door was slightly ajar.

On the unit by the front door was an envelope, and a steaming glass of milk, she opened it, his perfect words were telling her to go and take a bath, which was already run, and get warmed up. She picked up the glass of milk, holding it firmly between her hands, feeding off its heat, went straight upstairs, got out that that dress, and slid into the hot bubble bath.

As energy and warmth seeped back into her, she started to hear noises in her bedroom and she wondered what was still to come.

Elevator

She stood quietly waiting for the elevator, it was a normal day, in her normal life. It was unbeknown to her how much the events of the next five minutes would have on her quiet normal life. The elevator doors opened, there was a guy stood in the corner, she half heartedly looked him over, he was average, not attractive, not ugly, just unnoticeable and average. She tried not to notice his eyes scanning her figure, she ignored the slight smile he gave as his gaze came level with her eyes. Instead she stepped into the elevator and turned around to face the control panel, pressed the button for her floor and waited, and waited.

The soft middle American female voice warned her that the doors were about to close, she felt the spike of annoyance dig into her ribs, the spike that she felt every time she heard that voice. She thought that if she ever met the owner of that voice she would probably kill her, having spent, what felt like half of her life waiting for her to shut up so she could get herself into her apartment and relax for the weekend. But no, she told her that the doors were closing, and then that eternal silence as nothing happened. Nothing, nothing, then informed that the lift was going up, then nothing, nothing, nothing.

Eventually the lift creaked into movement, and then it started, she heard, felt him moving behind her, getting closer, she wondered if this must be his floor, and felt another wave of annoyance at why he hadn't taken the stairs if he was only going up one floor, but then she noticed that the only floor lights lit where her floor, she hadn't remembered it being lit before, but she was tired so it must have been, she just missed it. But he didn't step towards the door, he stepped closer to her, she felt him close to her, almost close enough to touch. Discomfort built in her gut, she watched the floor indicator, willing it to move quicker, this was just what she didn't need tonight another fucking weirdo in the elevator.

He was so close now she was sure she could feel his breath on her, his smell wafted around her, she breathed it in and thought that it actually smelt quite nice, then remembered the situation. She looked again at the indicator, again willing it to hurry up. It ignored her.

Then as they passed the third floor she heard his voice, felt his breath, wash into her ear, in a very soft whisper he told her not to move, not to speak. It was a calm quiet voice, initially she didn't understand the words, they were so foreign to the situation, her mind raced around them, trying to figure out the meanings, deciphering the contents like some ancient text, as the meaning settled into her head she drew in breath to tell him where to go, a sudden thrust of anger at the instruction, who the fuck was he to tell her what to do, her mouth opened and more words leaked into her ear, this time with more force, with more meaning. Again the meaning escaped her, but they repeated until she did, suddenly she found herself nodding as the meanings again settled, she nodded her understanding to him before she even understood what she was agreeing to. Her own agreement stunned her mouth into silence, suddenly she was terrified. Suddenly she was aroused.

His hand pushed around her waist and she was pulled into his body firmly. An alien thought ran through her mind thinking how glad she was she'd left her coat in the car, she felt his body through her thin top, as his hand started to push it up and his other hand rested against her hip, holding her tight into him. He roughly felt her breast through her bra, locating and roughly pinching her nipple. Then it went back down and pushed her bra up over her breasts, her mind was screaming at her to turn around and slap him, to kick and scream and put him in his place. But through all her minds protestations she stood there hypnotised by her loss of power, by her complete lack of defences against this person.

His body bent into her, pushing her forward, so his hand could travel down to the hem of her knee length skirt. He straightened as her skirt travelled up her thighs, exposing her knickers, still her mind screamed, still she remained silent. His hand pushed through the waistband of her knickers, then out through her leg, hardly touching her skin as it did, his hand twisted as it exited and took the crotch firmly, snagging a few of her hairs as it did, with a firm yank he tore them from her, the pain as the waistband and dug into her skin sent a yelp from her, he threw her knickers on the floor in front of her, and she pushed her head into his shoulder so she didn't have to see them. His hand moved back to her exposed crotch, exposing her lips to the elevator wall, and exposing her alarming state of arousal to them both. She felt a groan escape her as he explored her, knots of fear, arousal, confusion, and humiliation filled her stomach, her waist involuntarily squirmed against him, she felt his arousal pushing back against her. A need to touch it filled her thoughts, she fought it, she imagined the path her hand would take to reach behind her and touch him, she couldn't move though, more shock and fear filled her as she realised why she couldn't. She couldn't do anything simply because he had not told her she could. She had been told to remain still. She remained still as his fingers explored her body, as his strength and power over her explored and controlled her mind.

The horror of her situation fully struck her as that voice told them that they were on the sixteenth floor. Making the whole thing real and tangible, she had just been swept on a wave of arousal until now, but now that voice, that connection to her real life brought her back crashing to her real life. She started to struggle against his hold over her. She wriggled and twisted, moved her hands to push him away. She realised she was only fighting his physical hold over her as he shouted at her to stop and stay still. She froze with the cold sternness in his voice, her hands fell to her side again. He told her they were going to her apartment. As he let go of her a fresh wave of fear flooded through her, she started to straighten her clothes he whispered leave them, and she did, instead, she lifted her bag and rummaged for her keys as instructed as the doors to the elevator opened.

She stepped out of the elevator, eyeing her knickers on the floor as she did, her face flushed as she thought of her neighbours finding them. His hand firmly grasping her upper arm, and walked to her door, slid the key in the lock, opened the door and stepped in. Her mind was filled with the dangers of what he might do to her, the very worst thoughts were bombarding her, headlines and office tales, but the idea of telling him no at this stage had become such an absurd concept, he had her absolutely and completely under his spell. He pushed her towards the open bedroom door, letting go of her at the end of the bed. Took her bag from her hands and threw it in the corner of the room. Pulled the scarf from around her neck and tied it firmly around her head blindfolding her.

She stood still, her breath laboured in an attempt to supply her racing heart with enough oxygen to cope with the speed it was running at. She felt him walking around her, blind folded she could feel his eyes burning into her body, she found she was hoping he found her attractive, hating the thought that she might disappoint him. The other half of her mind hated that she cared, hated how weak and ineffective she was feeling. Yet she was more aroused than she had ever been, she had never been as wet as she was, her cheeks burnt at the realisation that her legs were wet.

The bed creaked as he sat on it, then there was silence, she wondered what he was doing, what he was thinking, what he was planning on doing to her, wishing he would just do something, fearing that he might, needing to feel his touch again, needing something to get this fear out of her head, but it didn't come, there was just silence. A wall of silence, thick and tangible, hard and cold, hot and wet, all through it she stood there, unable to move, her legs were starting to ache at the position he had left her in, but she couldn't move them, she needed to hear his permission, she felt the tears building up pressure in her closed eyes. She wondered if he was still there, she was sure she could still feel his presence, but she was no longer sure, it had been so long since he had moved, so long since his touch. Her mouth trembled as a please gently escaped from it, her tears flowed at the release.

There was still silence, she wondered if she was alone, another please escaped her lips, she felt disappointment followed as she disobeyed his instructions, she put all of her effort into making the please the most imploring, needful word she had ever uttered.

Finally he responded, with a single word that, of course she followed. She wondered the best way to do so without disturbing the blindfold. She was glad her top had a wide neck, as she pushed it down over her breasts, collecting her bra as she pushed them down, exposing her breasts to him for the first time, she hoped he didn't think they were too small, as she had always feared, instantly hating the thought again. She continued to push the her top down, stopping briefly to undo the button on her skirt, then pushed the whole lot down to the floor, stepping out of her shoes and kicking the whole lot behind her. Then stood there naked, hands at her side, feeling humiliated and scared imagining him eyeing her naked body again.

She heard him stand, and take a handful of her hair, feeling a pressure on the top of her head, she didn't understand what he was trying to do, but the pressure built until she was almost falling with it, then she understood, she almost fell with the force to find she was only steadied by the handful of hair he had she groaned at the pain in her scalp as she fell to her knees and felt him pushing into her mouth. Gagging at the force, unable to breathe as he rhythmically pushed into her throat.

Then her mouth was empty, left with nothing but the caustic taste of the vomit he had induced. She was dragged to her feet by her hair, an arm was put behind her and she was thrown onto the bed, biting her lip as she landed. The taste of blood and pain distracting her for a moment from the arousal and fear she still had flooding her body. He sat on the end of the bed, and pushed fingers into her holes, he roughly pushed more and more fingers into her, the pain was excruciating, she was begging him to stop, crying, wailing, all were ignored, she stretched and hurt and cried. He climbed up her, and entered her again, finally giving her a sensation she could remember, that she could enjoy.


Then again she was empty, barren in the absence of the pressure of him in her. Left with nothing but the fear and arousal inside, he turned her over, and got off the bed, she heard a zip undo and he was doing something, rummaging, moving around, she tried to decipher the noises, but she couldn't. She found out as her hand was yanked up and rope was wrapped around her arm, and yanked up above her head. Then he moved to the other arm and repeated the process, she thought as he did so that there was no need to tie her up as she couldn't do anything to move anyway, he moved to her legs, spread them open and tied them to the corners of the bed also.


He climbed onto her, and immediately she felt the most intense burning pain she'd felt in her life as he forced his way into her anus. Another please left her lips, more tears flooded from her eyes, her most humble, sorrowful supplications fell on deaf ears as he relentlessly forced himself onto her, into her. Finally she felt his body spasm, and he was out of her, and off her, she was weeping into her pillow, his last touch was as he pulled her arm up to untie it. Then he walked out.

She pulled her scarf from her and the first thing she saw was the three crumpled notes on her pillow next to her. It took half an hour before she had the composure and self control to untie herself, she felt violated and used, she struggled to understand why she had allowed him to do all he had. She hated the confusion in her thoughts. She hated how aroused she had been, she hated how aroused she still was. She wanted to hate him, she needed to hate him, but she couldn't she wanted him again.

Over the following days and weeks she fought the maelstrom of feelings circling her mind, she needed to understand why what he had done to her felt so good when it was so wrong, so humiliating so dirty. He'd degraded, humiliated, abused and hurt her, making her nothing but a cheap whore he paid for sex. But that event, those thoughts spawned a whole new life for her as she realised how much more deeply her sexuality ran, how much more diverse it was. He had been the first horrifying step on her lifelong voyage of self discovery, and for that she adored him, and would always remember him with the fondest, most erotic of memories.

The Journey Home

And here it was, the last fifteen minutes of her life. Fifteen minutes to pack all of her belongings into a small duffel bag, fifteen minutes to dig out the letter she'd written for her husband a few dozen times. Fifteen minutes before she would walk out on everything she had believed was so dear to her, leaving her entire life behind, walking into a life that she knew nothing about. Going to a life with someone who had told her would ignore her, hit, beat and abuse her. Those fifteen minutes were the longest, most stressful, shortest, most satisfying arousing minutes she'd ever experienced. She still wanted to just stay sat down, to not move for the entire fifteen minutes, because then he would leave and never speak to her again. She knew it was absurd, she decided to stay put as she stood up and went to get the duffel bag.

She dithered by the front door, wondering which coat to take, she settled on her warmest, walked out of the front door, locked it, and posted the keys back through the letterbox, walked down the stairs, across the lobby, through the main doors, and out of her life.

Outside there was a soft rain whose daggers of guilt and anxiety stung her skin as they landed. She stood there, waiting for his car to pull up next to her, remembering his instructions to look at the ground until he had come to a halt. The fifteen minutes had definitely passed by now, she wondered if he was testing her, wondered if he'd decided he didn't want her. She stood there, she knew she would wait all night if she had to, she just hoped her husband wouldn't see her first.

After an hour a car pulled in front of her, a long black saloon, she smiled, and thought it had to be black. It stopped with the back door level with her, she opened the door put her bag in the driver's side foot well and lay across the backseat, taking care not to look at him, at one point she caught sight of his hair colour and smiled again remembering the guess she had made all of those months ago. As the car pulled off she started to undress, as she knew she had to do. He had put the rear reading light on, so anybody who walked past could look in and see her lying naked on the back seat. Fortunately, since she had stood waiting for him for so long it was getting late and there weren't that many people around. Though as they were heading out of town he stopped by some drunken lads and waited until they saw her and started leering at the window.

Soon they were on the motorway, making steady progress occasionally he would drive steadily next to a larger vehicle so they could look down and see her at times they would honk their horns in acknowledgement. Other times he would linger for a while and then accelerate off again.

All the while he never spoke to her, there was just the sound of late night radio to distract her from her thoughts, and the occasional waft of cold air blowing from the air conditioning, sending waves of goose bumps flashing over her skin.

The car slowed again, she expected he was showing her to another driver again. But he was turning off the motorway, and onto side roads, she knew it was far too quick for her to be at his already, anticipation suddenly hit her in the stomach, she felt sick with it, but she didn't move, she lay there, facing the back seat, arms under her back, legs open, and bent at the knees, she had been in that position for too long now though and she was aching, her skin was sweaty against the leather seats, pins and needles came and went from where her body was pushing down into her arms. they started driving around city streets it was getting quite late as she could hear the rabble of late night drinkers. He reversed into a dark alley and stopped the car, and they sat in silence. She could hear his breathing, and hated how it relaxed her. She concentrated on it, so to bring her some calm, trying to push the thoughts of what might happen next, trying to block out the noises of the night life out. Wondering if she would actually have the strength in her legs to bare her own weight, thinking how disappointed he would be if she couldn't follow his first instruction. She wondered if he would help her, wondered whether she was excited or scared by the fact that she might be seen, what they would think of the reasons for her doing that. As she was lost in these thoughts she heard the door open, felt the cold rushing in across her body, he got out and closed the door behind him. Would her door open now? Was his it? There was silence. She wondered what he was doing, maybe having a cigarette? No, no he didn't smoke, or at least she didn't think so, she examined there past conversations and was sure she'd asked. Then she heard muffled voices outside the car, there was laughter and the shadow of figures lingered over her body.

He got back in the car, and they were sat in silence again. But the shadows remained, she could hear voices outside the car, low muffled laughing. She was scared.

Both of the back doors were forced open, and hands dove in and grabbed her hands and legs tugging at her, pulling her out of both doors simultaneously, she tried to look around to see who they were, but they were just shadow creatures, it was too dark to make out any faces, but she did see him, she heard that laugh, dark and insidious, she wondered what the expression was like that went with it. Still the hands pulled at her though, occasionally another hand would reach in and squeeze her breast firmly. Then the pressure around her wrists was lost and she was being pulled out of the car by her feet. As she started to fall out she was scooped up by one of them, the stench of beer filled her lungs, she felt sick again for it, for the fear of what he'd done to her. She was pushed back against the car, and there were four of them around her again, hands all over her, between her legs, around her breasts, up and down her legs occasionally a fingers would push into her mouth after a few minutes of this she was manoeuvred around to the back of the car, the boot opened behind her, the corner of it scratching up her back, and she remembered what was happening, where she was going to be put, she felt safe again, even with these hands over her, because he had planned this, she knew nothing would happen to her. She banged her head as she was man handled into the boot, she felt it jarring her brain, which distracted her from the force of the fingers being pushed into her. Then as quickly as it started they moved and the boot was closed again. She heard him getting out of the car and talking to them, they laughed and jeered again and she heard them walking off shouting.

A few minutes later, the boot opened again this time just partially, and her bag and clothes were thrown in, then the boot was slammed shut, then slightly opened again, and a couple of bottles of water were thrown in. At that point she knew she was going to be there for the rest of the night at least.

The car pulled off again, and she set about trying to move things around enough to get herself barely comfortable, fortunately it was a fairly large boot, and she could find places for enough of her things to be able to give her room to move and stretch parts of her body as they needed to be. There was also a blanket in there, that she pulled around herself to keep warm, as it was pretty cold in there. She put her big warm coat under her head to stop it jarring against the boot floor.

Her mind wandered over the story of how she'd got here, how she'd come to be in the boot of someone's car that she'd never even seen the face of, someone who had got so deeply into her thoughts that she'd walked out on her entire life to be a plaything for him. She tried to remember what was written on that chatroom profile that had captivated her so much, whether she would have spoken to him had she known what he was going to do to her. Knowing how weak and needy he made her, knowing how so far removed that was from who she typically was. From who she used to be. From the first moment she spoke to him he had seen her, seen the core of who she was, of what drove her, what scared her, what aroused her. There was no part of her mind that she could hide from his spotlight. No lie she could tell that he didn't instinctively know was a lie. It became the case that she simply stopped trying to hide things from him, didn't even consider not being absolutely and completely honest with him, firstly because she knew he would see it, secondly because she feared the consequences of what would happen if she did. It had soon come to the point where her every action was questioned by herself as to what he might think of it. She started hating having sex with her husband because it wasn't him. She enjoyed the time her husband drunk and got rough with her because she felt it was preparation for her life with him.

She had known from the start that he had other women in his life, she shocked herself to think that she didn't care that she wanted his attention and if that meant she had to share it with others then she would do that because she simply couldn't get him out of her thoughts. She needed his attention, and would suffer anything he could do to her to get it.

And damn did he know how to use her need of attention and acceptance from him. He would tease her with tales of other girls he was talking to, ignore her, sometimes for days on end, and she would hate him for it, and swear that she was never going to speak again, then he would appear, giving her another crumb of attention and she immediately folded, and gave whatever he wished for. No matter how embarrassing or humiliating, all he had to do was ask for it, and she would do it. He didn't even need to tell her to, no matter how difficult she felt it was, his grip over her was always stronger and he took great amusement in proving that to her.

But though all of the negative actions he did with her, she knew that he actually cared about her, she knew she meant a lot to him, she knew he wouldn't be doing this if not. Even during the times when he was being cruel to her in one way or another, he still seemed to have an air of caring to him. Then very occasionally he would actually lavish her with niceness, he would give her his attention, his complete attention and say things that simply melted her and had her smiling for days and weeks after. That is what he did to her, he always knew the exact button to press to put her emotions in the exact state that he wanted them to be, she had no free will with him, and she didn't want any.

The drone of the road and the darkness she was consumed in soon had her falling asleep, she would occasionally be jolted awake and bang herself on parts of the boot. Groggily she woke up, it was light outside, she could see the light spilling into the boot now. She realised she needed to pee, suspected he wasn't going to let her out anytime soon as the car was stationary. They must have parked somewhere in the night. She wondered how much longer she would be there, when he would let her out. Damn she needed to pee.

She was wondering what her husband had made of the note she had left, whether he was looking for her, trying to call her. She also realised how little she cared, she belonged to him now, and as cold and uncomfortable as she was, she was cold and uncomfortable for him. It was his wish, it was his attention that had put her there. In the dark coldness of the boot of a car, she felt warm waves of arousal pushing through her. She smiled and dozed again.

She was woken as the boot was opened and a small paper bag was thrown in to her. The bright sunlight stinging her sticky eyes, she had a drink of water, and woke herself up, then examined the contents of the bag, trying to find a beam of light to see what it was. Mostly through touch she realised it was a half eaten sandwich, and some salad covered in some sort of mayonnaise. Apparently it wasn't just scraps of his attention she had to vie for. She remembered that she needed a pee. Fuck! She really needed a pee now. She remembered feeling a plastic container when she was clearing some space, she fidgeted around behind her to locate it. It was a shallow food container, minus the lid. she wondered about the logistics of actually peeing in it, then she considered what she would do with it once she had. She didn't know, she would work that out after, at the moment she just really needed to go. She shuffled around so she was lying on her front, got the trousers she was wearing and put them underneath her waist then put the container under her and managed to go without spilling too much. God! She needed that.

So what to do with it, she couldn't leave it, it would spill as soon as the car moved, and he wouldn't like that, she wondered if she could pour it into the nearly empty water bottle, that would be difficult in the light sitting up, in a dark boot feeling as cramped as she did, it was impossible. So, she did the only thing she could think of.

She spent the rest of the day locked away in the boot of the car, spent some more time driving, and more time sitting stationary, she wondered where they were, if they were anywhere near her new home yet. She felt uncomfortable, and achy, and cramped. She watched the daylight fading again, she spent the time feeling all the emotions she could think of, angry at herself, proud of herself, happy, sad, smiling, crying.

She had spent a few hours parked in the dark. Her mind was really starting to struggle with the situation now, real regret of what she had done was building. She missed her husband and her bed. She was crying, she had been crying for as long as she could remember now.

Then the boot opened, and she was pulled from it, pulled from it, by him. In one smooth gentle move he pulled her up out of the boot, and held her into him, for the first time she breathed him in. She was finally touching him, she was grinning that his first touch of her had been so gentle. That he was standing holding her.

He supported her as her cramped legs tried to walk towards the house, she was helped up the stairs and taken into a small empty room, with nothing but a thick blanket in the corner, on the bare floorboards, she guessed that this would be her place. He put her on the blanket, and told her to stretch herself a little. He left the room, a key entered a lock and she was locked in.

A few minutes later he returned with a tray of food, a glass of milk, and a smile. She grinned at seeing his face for the first time, she knew she was home, she knew this is where she belonged, and he was who she belonged to, but then, she knew that ever since that very first day she had spoken to him. Finally, she was home.