Perspective III: Perception free porn video

Perspective III: Perceptions

Early Morning

She was awake long before the alarm clock went off. How had hefound her at the cabin? That thought kept going through herhead. No one had known where she was going, no way could anyone have followedher up the mountain road without her noticing, yet there he had been thenext morning. Automatically she stretched out her arms to relieve someof the tension in her shoulders. At least she could be certain it was nodream this time. That last session on the cabin floor, trussed up in apainful hogtie with her arms behind her back, had been no fantasy.

She glanced over at the dimly glowing display on the clock. She still hadfifteen minutes to herself before the day would start. He had no right to dothat to her. It hadn't been fun or erotic. No, it had hurt. And that had beenhis intention, to punish her.

Like the old cartoons there were two voices whispering in her ear. The angelon one side was telling her that it was all so wrong. He had no right to tieher up, to force her to obey him, to terrorize her into submission. And onthe other side the little devil was pointing out that he did have the right,because she belonged to him and she knew it. Of course she had to be punished;after all hadn't she tried to run away? The angel's arguments were silencedwhen the devil told her to open her eyes and look in her closet.

She rolled over and propped up her head on one hand. The plastic bag withits pink rags dangled below a hanger. She had been the one who took the scissorsto her suit, not him. Sighing, she dropped her head back onto the pillow andstared up at the ceiling. Did he own her? She couldn't answer the questionwith a definite yes or no, and that was disturbing in itself. It felt so rightto submit to him. It was a compulsion that came from within, one she couldnot ignore.

The radio clicked on. An announcer was halfway through the traffic report.Six o'clock, she had to be home before then. The mess on the freeway had almostmade her late yesterday. From now on she'd have to pay more attention to theradio on her way home.

She tossed aside the bedcovers, stood up, stretched one last time, and headedfor the shower. The hot water did wonders for her sore muscles. The water runningdown her legs felt good, reminding her of the way his hand had caressed herankle.

She shut the water off. No time for daydreaming about that sort of thingin the morning. She had to get ready for work. She was never late and didn'tintend to start now. He certainly wouldn't approve. She finished up in thebathroom and headed to her closet.

Her eyes kept coming back to last night's handiwork. He knew exactly whathe was doing when he told her to hang it in the closet. Every day she wouldhave to look at the results of his order, a not so subtle reminder of the extenthe now controlled her life. She took out the pastel green skirt and jacketsuit. Soft and feminine, and she did look good in it. Though it was not whatanyone would call a "power suit". A good choice , shethought with a wry smile, since I'm not feeling particularly powerfultoday.

On the way out the door she remembered the travel bag she had left in thecar yesterday. She could bring it in when she got home this afternoon, no needto make a separate trip now. He wouldn't be concerned with details like that.No, results were what mattered to him, not how she managed to accomplish thoseresults. She was sure of that even though she couldn't explain why.

Outside, she opened the car door and got in. Her bag was still in the backseat, undisturbed. She put the key in the ignition but caught herself beforestarting the car. The car had been locked overnight but she had still checkedto see if he had taken her bag or left something else for her, even thoughshe had no idea if he had a set of keys. Without thinking she just assumedhe had access.

Like he owned it all, along with me , she thought.She turned her head, looking around the empty street to see if anyone was watchingher. It was still too early for any traffic, and no men in trench coats werelurking in the shadows of storefront doorways. She shook her head at her ownimagination run wild, started the car and headed to the office.

Breakfast Watch

A block away in the diner the man sitting at the counter took another biteof his pancakes while he watched her car pull away from the curb. Putting downthe fork he took out his pocket watch, opened the cover and checked the time.

She looked good in green but he didn't care at all for her choice of earrings.He would have to do something about it. But first he'd check to make sure shegot home on time for the next few days. And that she'd figured out the lessonbehind the bag of rags in her closet. That particular order had been spontaneous;all he had planned on was the curfew. It had been very selfish of him to makeher take the scissors to her clothes. He'd have to come up with more of thesame.

The waitress behind the counter noticed his pocket watch. "Is that one ofthose old railroad watches? My grandfather carried one for years." She leanedover to look at it.

He held it out so she could see the face. "No, not for railroads, but themechanism is just as old. This is what's called a hunter's case, with a frontcover. It protects the crystal from breaks and scratches." With a practicedone-handed move he closed the cover with his fingers while the watch lay inhis palm.

"Does it keep good time?" she asked, more to make conversation than out ofany real curiosity.

He dangled the watch by its chain. "Not as accurate as one of those moderndigital wristwatches, but it works well enough for my purposes."

"Purposes? Does it do something special?" The other customer at the far endof the counter stood up and reached for his wallet.

He smiled as he held it in his hand again. "When I open it, not only doesit tell me the time, but it also reminds me of what has to be done. It regulatesorder in my little universe."

She gave him a puzzled look before turning around and walking back to thecash register. He dropped the watch back in his pocket. Rarely did anyone understandwhat he meant.

She had left for work at her regular time. That was a good sign. He didn'tmiss her survey around the street after getting in the car; she must know hewas watching her. Probably disappointed he wasn't slouched against a lamppostacross the street, fedora pulled low over his brow, pretending to read thepaper but never turning the page. Or maybe he should be standing below a largeflashing neon arrow that said "this is the guy".

The real significance was in what had not happened. No patrol cars surroundingthe block, no squads of thick-necked detectives sweeping the neighborhood forthe degenerate who had attacked her. She was coming along nicely. Maybe thiswould be the week they met face to face. Nodding in approval he returned tohis breakfast.

Luncheon Appointment

She made it through Monday, arriving home well before her deadline. Tuesdayshe had to stop at the grocery store on her way home but still made it to thedoor with twenty minutes to spare. If she was careful she had enough time forone errand. Wednesday the traffic was very bad due to a broken water main butshe still got home in time, though it had been close.

Three days and she hadn't heard from him. No email, no note under the door,no phone call, nothing. She sat on the couch, head back and eyes closed, rubbingher temples with her hands. The drive home that afternoon had been slow motionagony. The line of cars had moved at a crawl, but the clock in the dashboardseemed to count off the minutes at twice the normal rate. When she had openedher front door she had raced into the kitchen to check the time. Three minutesto spare, but she had made it.

She hadn't broken the pipe, she didn't even know about it until it was toolate and she was trapped. By the time it was on the radio she was right inthe middle of what looked to be an endless line of cars in both directions.There was no way he could have blamed her for getting home late under thosecircumstances.

And yet, despite it all she was proud she had still made his curfew. Sixo'clock and there she was, sitting on the couch. She had a perfect record,but did he know? She had no doubt he'd know if her record wasn't perfect, andthat she'd hear about it in distinctly unpleasant ways. She hoped he'd followedher home and gotten stuck in the same gridlock. Then he'd appreciate what shehad to go through to ensure he got his way.

Thursday was anticlimactic. There were no traffic jams, no broken water mains,not even an alien invasion of flying saucers parked on the freeway. She hadtime to stop and drop off her dry cleaning before she got home.

The moment she went into the kitchen she saw the small box and envelope onthe counter. She stared at it, hesitant to open the envelope and see what hehad to say. It had to be from him; no one else had keys to her apartment. Shestill hadn't figured out how he had obtained a set. The large block letterson the envelope, obviously from a laser printer, read "OPEN THIS FIRST".

She held the box steady with one hand while she slid the envelope out fromunderneath. The box itself was small and didn't weigh much. She had no ideawhat could be inside. The envelope was a plain business one, with no otherprinting on it. She held it up to the light but couldn't make out what wasinside.

She took a steak knife out of the drawer and used it as a letter opener,slitting open the top of the envelope while being careful not to cut the contentsinside. The contents consisted of a single sheet of folded paper. She put theknife down on the counter, unfolded the letter and began to read:

" You have done very well these last few days. Even I didn't expectyou to get home on time yesterday, but somehow you managed. I am impressedwith your diligence, but I am forced to admit that I have not left yousufficient time after work. Starting next Monday you do not have to behome until 6:30pm.

I'm pleased to see you understood my purpose in asking you to cutup your suit. I want you to know I find the wardrobe choices you made thisweek were very attractive, exactly what I hoped to see. However, the earringsyou wore on Monday do not suit you. They were too large and garish. Jewelryshould enhance, not distract. Get rid of them. The box with this lettercontains an example of what I consider acceptable.

Friday we will meet for lunch at ten minutes past noon. I knowhow much you like the pastrami sandwich from the deli across the street,though I don't understand why you ruin it with that overpowering mustard.I look forward to introducing you to the delights of cream cheese as apalate-friendly replacement."

She put the letter on the counter and picked up the box. Unwrapping it shesaw from the label it was from one of the better known local jewelers. Sheflipped up the lid. Inside were a pair of small emerald stud earrings, lightgreen in color.

Her hands were shaking. Quickly she closed the box, set it down, and grippedthe edge of the kitchen counter to steady herself. We will meet forlunch. Tomorrow she would finally get to see the man who had turnedher life upside down. What was the old cliché about being careful whatto wish for, because it might come true? She had been irritated at the cavalierway he chose to not communicate with her, but now that she had gotten her wishit turned out to be just as disturbing.

She picked up his message and the earrings and took them out into the livingroom. She sat down on the couch and placed them on the coffee table. She openedthe box to look at his gift. She read the second paragraph again. That answeredone question. He knew exactly what she wore to work every morning; in detail,judging by his comment. Monday, what had she worn that day? It took a momentfor her to remember, the green outfit, one of her favorites, which explainedhis choice of emeralds. But which earrings had she picked to go with it?

She jumped up, grabbed the letter on the table and went into the bedroom.Opening her jewelry box she searched through her selection of earrings, tryingto remember which pair she'd worn that day. Large and garish was all she hadto go by, and that didn't tell her much.

She picked out three possibilities. One she eliminated almost immediately,large golden colored hoops. She didn't care for them herself and never worethem. That left the other two. But which one had she used this last week? Frowningshe tried to remember back to Monday morning.

She drew a blank. Getting dressed was mostly automatic; it wasn't the mostmemorable part of her day, especially given the events of the last few weeks.She had no clue as to which ones he didn't like. Frowning, she stared at theearrings. She had to do something; "get rid of them" didn't leave her manyoptions.

Sometimes complex questions do have simple answers. She scooped up all threepairs in her hand and went into the kitchen. She opened the lid on the trashcan and threw them away. None of them were particularly valuable, no 24 caratgold and not one diamond stone in the lot. One small problem solved; one bigproblem waiting for tomorrow. And how was she ever going to get to sleep?

She'd have to wash her hair. Then she'd have to pick out something nice towear for tomorrow. And it had to be something he would approve of, from theside of the closet she considered safe. Plus it would have to match the emeralds.She didn't want to disappoint him.

Deli for Two

Friday morning at work started off bad and got progressively worse. The minuteshe walked in she had to track down a lost package mistakenly shipped to thewrong address. Then her supervisor dumped a rush project on her desk. "Thishas to be done by lunchtime. There's a meeting at one and I need to have thisready. There's a major contract being negotiated. This is critical in gettingit closed." She always got the emergencies for the simple reason that she deliveredby the deadline.

She worked frantically through the morning, not even taking a break. No oneelse knew but she had two deadlines, the report and more pressing the lunchdate she dare not miss. Five minutes to noon and the report was ready, proofedand formatted. She had just enough time to print it before she went acrossthe street to the deli. That's when her computer decided to go on strike. Nomatter what she did it would not send the report to the printer.

In desperation she called the help desk. She hated to do it because the techswho manned it were so lacking in any sort of social skills. The Animal Housewas the nickname she and her co-workers had given the computer department.It had the highest concentration of nerds, geeks, creeps and jerks of any departmentin the company. Calling was bad enough but when the guys showed up to makerepairs they spent more time trying to look down her blouse than inside hercomputer. Today of all days they would have a real eyeful, for she'd worn thelowest cut blouse she could get away with at work.

She described her problem to the technician on the phone. He read off theobvious procedures from his script, all of which she'd tried before calling.Half-heartedly he asked a few more question, and finally conceded it wasn'ther fault. She pleaded with him to send someone up right away, dropping a fewheavyweight executive names so they'd bump up her priority.

She checked the time on her screen, 12:00 pm. He would expect her in tenminutes and she couldn't leave. The best she could hope for was that he'd waitfor her. She couldn't leave until the report was printing.

Except for the receptionist in the front she was the only one still at herdesk. Everyone else had cleared out for lunch. When the computer guy walkedin, complete with one of those cases for spare parts, the room was empty savefor the two of them. The case was always the giveaway. Computer types had tocarry something technical looking; it must be some kind of status symbol. Shewatched him cross the room and approach her desk. He was one of the rare ones,older, better dressed, clean, and not bad looking. If she were really luckyhe wouldn't drool while he stared at her legs. Naturally it would be the dayshe also wore the shortest skirt that would pass the company dress code.

"Good, you're here. I need this report printed immediately and it's stuck.It has to be in the conference room before one, so please get it working asfast as you can." She stood up. "I have an appointment and won't be able tostay. Here's the file name." She pointed to a sticky note on the side of hermonitor.

Instead of answering he put down the parts case on the floor, stared at herin a way that took in every inch of bare skin, and then took out a pocket watch.Without saying one word he opened it, took far too long reading the time, andfinally put the watch back in his pocket.

She revised her opinion of him downward. He fit the pattern that earned thecomputer geeks their reputation of being rude and obnoxious. Given her streakof bad luck he probably was the new trainee too, without a clue as to how tosolve her problem. "Look, this is really important. If that report isn't readythe CEO isn't going to be too happy. I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"No," he interrupted. She stopped in mid sentence. Something wasn't right.

"Sit down." That voice, she recognized it. But it couldn't be. She sat down.

He picked up the parts case and put it on her desk. Opening the top he tookout a sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil. He looked at the writing on it beforesetting it down in front of her. "Pastrami with mustard, the way you like it." Hetook out another sandwich and put it down on his side. "I prefer cream cheese,it doesn't ruin the delicate seasoning of the meat. You really should try it."

She didn't know what to say. It was him, the mysterious voice that had cometo dominate her life. He had written the same comment in the letter last night;there wasn't any way someone else could know about it.

"It's undignified to sit there with your mouth open if you aren't going toeat." He took out a bottle. "Iced tea, that's for you." He placed it next toher sandwich. A container of potato salad and a dill pickle followed.

He sat down across the desk from her and began unwrapping his sandwich. "Ifyou recall we did have a lunch date today. Ten minutes after twelve, as I toldyou. I thought you would be more comfortable meeting in familiar surroundings."

He'd gotten to her again. Her self-proclaimed owner, the man who had decidedshe belonged to him without even asking, sat across the desk eating a pastramisandwich like their first face to face was a casual get together among co-workers.She stared at him, at a loss for words.

He stopped and pointed to her sandwich. "Eat your lunch. And this time Iwant you to finish it. Last week you ran out of the deli without finishinga perfectly good meal. I am not going to permit such behavior again."

Mechanically she picked up her sandwich and took a bite. The deli? Sohe had been there after all. Behind him the printer turned on and began feedingpaper. "That's your report." He didn't even turn around to look.

He certainly didn't lack for self confidence. No question this was the sameman who had so deftly bent her to his will. Even here in the office a few quietwords were all it took to control her. She couldn't bring herself to say anythinguntil he gave his permission.

When he looked at her it was as if he were peering into the depths of hermind. His eyes were riveting in their ability to hold her. How did he intendto use that power over her? There were so many questions. She didn't know whereto start.

He didn't give her the opportunity. "We don't have much time today. I'm surethere's quite a bit you'd like to discuss. We'll have more time tomorrow evening.I will call for you at seven o'clock. I've made reservations at a nice place." Hepaused, a thoughtful look on his face. "I want you to wear that black dress,you know, the one you keep in the back of the closet for special occasions.The earrings are perfect for you too, wear them again tomorrow. You are forbiddento wear a watch. The rest I leave to your judgment."

She finally found her voice again. "Look, before this goes any further wehave…"

"No," he cut her off in mid-sentence. "Tomorrow night you can ask me anything,and I promise I'll give you an answer to every question. Not today. You andI both have to get back to work after lunch."

She couldn't argue with his reasoning. Behind him the printer was still churningout the pages for the report. "Okay, tomorrow, but answer one question. Howdid…"

"No." He wouldn't let her finish. "Save all your questions for tomorrow night.Make a list if you want. But don't ask any questions right now."

He was stubborn as well as dominating. She wasn't bound and helpless, kneelingin front of him now. This was her space, her office, and that gave her somemoral support to argue with him. She tried a few more times to sneak in a question,but he remained obstinate. As soon as he saw where she was heading he cut heroff. Interruptions like that from anyone else would be rude, but she couldn'tbring herself to use that label in describing him. She resigned herself towaiting another day. Idly she wondered if her black dress needed ironing.

Rolling the Dice

He'd kept their lunch date short on purpose. As he expected she tried tolaunch into an interrogation from the first moment. He had no intention ofletting her take control of the meeting. Her desk, like her apartment, washer personal space where she felt secure, in charge, at her safest. Naturallyshe would try to assert herself. And like her apartment he had to come in andtake it over.

His promise of "anywhere and anytime" was no idle boast. There was no escapefrom his influence, not in her bedroom, not in a mountain cabin, not even atwork. But for all the months of careful planning, and his precisely laid plansof the last few weeks, still she had one way to end it all, and there wasn'tmuch he could do about it if she chose that path.

His office was in the same building but nowhere nearly as nice as her workarea. During the day he lived deep in the basement, next to the room full ofhumming machines, the computer servers that were the lifeblood of the company.For most of his life that had been the sum of his existence: structure, orderand harmony, each component in the network fulfilling its designated role inhis grand design.

Was it nature or nurture? Did he become the systems administrator becauseit was his nature to control his environment, or did the demands of his careerforce him into being the leader? Through his office window he could see thestatus lights on the racks of servers, the flashing indicators representingmessages traveling in and out of the data center over the internet connections,the load display on the console showing how much work was in progress. On topof one of the racks was a plastic toy statue of Chewbacca, from Star Wars.Legend had it that the miniature Wookie wandered the building after hours,gobbling up unsuspecting techs who dared to leave the server room when theyshould be manning the help desk phone.

Perhaps only the Jedi Knights could feel the Force, but he had his own wayof sensing the underlying Force of his little kingdom of machinery. Any changein sound, the slightest deviation in the rhythm of the displays, he would interveneto put the offending bit of electronics back on track.

Logic ruled supreme in his universe, yet he had ignored it and rolled thedice in the biggest gamble of his life. Maybe the last if he didn't make thepoint. Till now his way of life was a solitary one, not so much by choice asthe harsh reality that the usual relationships did not last very long. Forcedto admit he could not change, he had set out to find the kind of woman whocould tolerate, maybe even prefer, the type of man he would always be.

He'd done his homework, learned what to look for, and had used all the resourcesat his command, regardless of ethical considerations, to find the right one.Everything he could learn about her said she was the one, and the last twoweeks had seemed to prove him right. But sooner or later she had to know hisidentity, and that was the point where he would succeed or fail in a spectacularcrash and burn.

He took out his watch and checked the time, 2:12pm. The outside door wasclosed; still no squad of uniformed police bursting in, guns drawn, intenton saving society from the bottom feeders of humanity. He ran down the list:stalking, breaking and entry, kidnapping, false imprisonment, probably somekind of terrorism charge too just so the prosecutor would make the eveningnews. By the time he got out of prison the airlines should be offering weeklyflights to Mars. All she had to do was pick up the phone and make a call.

Saturday Night

She checked the bedside clock radio. It was nearly seven, the time he wouldcome for her. All she knew was that he'd made reservations at a "nice place",whatever that meant. It might be gourmet chili dogs at the monster truck racesor the gourmet room at one of the five star hotels.

He would be on time. And she had to be ready the moment he arrived. She checkedherself in the mirror for about the twentieth time. The black dress was flattering;he had good taste. The earrings were small green dots, barely visible. Theonly other jewelry she wore was a thin gold chain necklace, little more thana line around her throat. It fit her definition of minimal; she hoped he'dagree it wasn't garish. She shrugged; if it wasn't to his taste he'd tell her.He didn't seem to have any problem in that regard.

This would be their first real date, though it was nothing like any dateshe had ever been on before. Normally she'd fret about what to wear, wherethey would go, if she had to carry the conversation, what to do if or morelikely when he turned out to be another dud, and if she'd have to fight himoff at the end. This time it was almost too easy. He'd picked out the clothes,he'd picked the place, he certainly knew how to capture her attention, andhe'd had ample opportunity if his only interest was getting her into bed. Hecould have whatever he wanted; she couldn't say no. She'd had all week to decideon that particular question.

She went out to the living room to wait on the couch, where she could stareat the front door. It opened precisely on the hour. He had a key, from whereshe had no idea, so she shouldn't have been surprised. That was one of thequestions on her list. She still jumped when the door knob turned.

A man coming to pick her up would have rung the doorbell, but he wasn't anordinary date. Ringing the bell was asking to enter, something her owner wouldrightfully ignore. She wasn't running the show this time. He was going to doexactly as he pleased and she knew, even though she didn't want to admit it,the way he casually ignored all the conventions secretly fascinated her.

She stood up to face him. He closed the front door behind him before he turnedback and walked toward her. She felt as much as saw his eyes sweep up and down,inspecting her. She held her breath, eager to hear his approval.

He stopped at arm's length. Nervous, she looked up at him. "You did well," hetold her. She'd spent most of the day getting ready; his few words made itworthwhile. Warmed by his simple praise she looked down, almost embarrassedin her relief. "I have something else I want you to wear. I want you to holdout your hands, toward me." Unsure of what he intended she hesitated but quicklyobeyed when his eyes narrowed in the beginning of a frown.

He took hold of her left wrist and drew her toward him. Leaning close hestared into her eyes. "Listen carefully. It's important that you keep stilluntil I'm done." The way he spoke, calm and deliberate, riveted her attentionwith his every word. "I'm going to put you in handcuffs. Real ones, like thepolice use." He reached behind his back with his free hand and brought outa gleaming pair of steel bracelets, linked together by a short length of chain.

The click of the handcuff closing on her wrist surprised her. She had neverbeen arrested or handcuffed before. She recognized from TV shows the distinctiveratcheting sound. Without thinking she tensed as he slowly tightened it onher wrist but she willed herself to relax while he explained what he was doing.When he talked that way all she couldn't seem to focus on what was happening.

The weight and the cool touch of the steel encircling her wrist remindedher he was using thee real thing, not some plastic child's toy. When he tookhold of her right wrist and locked on the other cuff she didn't object, eventhough she knew she would be unable to free her hands.

The accomplished fact of being retrained made it all the easier to trusthim. He had her in his power. Whatever happened now was up to him. She toldherself it wasn't the first time, so she didn't need to worry. Still, thiswas all so different than the previous meetings. Before now she had woken upand found herself at his mercy. This time she had given herself willingly.

Tingles shot through her body when his hands traveled up and down her arms.She couldn't help but react to his touch. Being helpless brought her to arousal.She couldn't stop it, nor did she want to. What she wanted was for him to pullher bound hands above her head, push her down and take her, right there onher living room floor.

Instead he let go and backed up to admire his work. Looking down she couldsee the small keyhole on each handcuff. She was neither a locksmith nor anescape artist; they would stay on her until he took them off. She didn't evenconsider asking for the key.

He picked up her purse from the sofa and handed it to her. Did he expecther to go out wearing handcuffs? But what came next was even more of a surprise.

"Open your purse; take out your wallet, cell phone and keys. Give them tome." She started to protest but stopped before one word got out. There wasn'tany point in asking for an explanation. Awkwardly she held her open purse inone hand while she extracted her wallet.

Because her wrists were locked so close together she couldn't hand it tohim. He solved that problem by taking the wallet out of her hand. The cellphone followed, and then the last item, her key ring. It had both the apartmentdoor and car keys. He opened a drawer in the end table beside the couch anddropped them all inside. "You won't need them tonight."

With no money, no phone, and no keys she wouldn't be able to sneak away oncethey left the apartment. For that matter she'd have a hard time wandering thestreet with the cuffs on too. He looked at her purse in a pointed way one moretime. "Is there anything else in there I should know about?"

She looked down at her hands. How did he know? There was something, one itemthat she knew wasn't supposed to be in there. She had taken a chance and nowshe'd been caught. She looked up at him. "There might be, I don't know…" Herhesitation sounded like a confession of guilt. She had to tell him. "I putmy wristwatch in here. You told me not to wear it. I thought it would be okay."

He stood in front of her, silent, waiting. She reached in and took out thewatch. He took it out of her hand and added it to the drawer. "You were rightto tell me. I told you it was forbidden, so don't do it again. You know better." Shecould tell he disapproved. Ashamed she looked down. He was right, she knewit wasn't what he wanted but she had tried to sneak it in.

"We'll deal with the watch later. I want you to bring a jacket. I'll getit for you." He went straight to the hall closet where she kept her coats andsweaters. Apparently he knew her apartment as well as she did.

While his back was turned she took the opportunity to explore her matchingbracelets. First she tried to pull her wrists apart. She got nowhere, whichwasn't a surprise. That's what handcuffs were supposed to do. Next she triedto slip one hand out of the cuff. They were a loose fit but too narrow to gopast her wrists. The steel was heavier than regular bracelets. She stoppedwhen he came back with her coat.

She had no idea how she was supposed to put the coat on. He solved that mysteryby draping it over her hands and purse, concealing the cuffs. So he did intendfor her to go out in public with her hands chained together. She didn't likethe idea but what could she do?

He took out his pocket watch and checked the time. "It's time to go." Hetook hold of her arm and steered her toward the front door. Though anxiousand worried about the embarrassment of discovery she still let herself be ledout into the hallway and down to the street. Every time they met he pushedthe bounds a little further. How much more before she had to speak up and sayenough? The answer wasn't so clear.

Surrender

Outside her apartment building he took her to where his car was parked. Onthe sidewalk they passed one of her neighbors. Thankfully the woman only noddeda hello and kept going. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks she hadn't droppedher coat.

In his car they pulled out onto the street into traffic. She kept her handsunder her coat to conceal the handcuffs from passers by. She had no idea wherehe was going but it turned out not to be very far. He drove for about fifteenminutes before he slowed and pulled into an alley. The alleyway was dark anddeserted.

As soon as he turned off the engine he turned to her. "Stay here. I'll beright back."

He got out, crossed in front of the car and slowly walked along the alley.He appeared to be searching for something, but otherwise she had no idea whathe intended to do next. He made a complete circuit, to the far end and back,before he returned to her side of the car. She looked out the side window ashe took out his pocket watch, opened the case, then quickly closed it and putit back in his pocket.

He opened her door and held out his hand. "It's time. I want you to get outof the car. Leave your purse and jacket on the seat."

She got out and looked around at her surroundings. Why had he brought herto this place? It made no sense. For the first time she began to wonder ifshe could trust him after all. Distracted she didn't realize she still hadher purse clutched in her shackled hands.

He immediately snatched it away and tossed it onto the back seat throughher open door. "Look at me." She turned around and looked up at his face inthe light from the car's interior. He took hold of the chain between her hands. "I'mgoing to ask you to do something difficult, something that may frighten you.I'm asking you to trust me and do it anyway, even though I'm not going to explainwhy, or what will happen later. This is very important to me, to both of us.Will you do as I ask?"

The question was simple but she sensed this was a turning point, a momentwhen her answer would change her life. She studied his face, looking for somehint he intended to harm her. What she saw was genuine concern. Taking a deepbreath she nodded as she replied. "Tell me what to do."

The bridge was crossed and burned down behind her. She knew there would beno turning back now. She felt relieved more than afraid. He was in charge;whatever happened from this point on was his responsibility. She would do herbest for him. She prayed he would be good to her.

He took out a key from his pocket and removed the handcuffs. "Take off yourclothes, shoes, everything. Put them on the car seat. I want you to do it rightnow, and not one word."

It was tempting to turn around and check to see if she was visible from thestreet but she knew it would be wrong. He had chosen the place; she had toaccept it. Taking a deep breath she reached behind her back for the zipper.

Turning Point

In moments her clothes were on the car seat, and her shoes on the floor.He took off her necklace but allowed her to leave on the earrings. It was allshe wore. She stood in front of him, nude, head down, hands at her side, waitingfor his next command. He put a hand under her chin and lifted her head up sohe could see her eyes. "You understand what this means?" He didn't see theneed to elaborate.

"Yes," she answered. A simple answer but in her tone he heard all the explanationhe needed. She had surrendered to him, obedient and trusting, her life in hishands to do as he pleased. He had dreamed of the moment; now that it had arrivedhe took a moment to savor all he had risked and won. He had her, now he mustdo his best to keep her.

But he didn't have time to philosophize. The next few hours would be criticalin building their relationship. He had to act quickly, decisively, and in away that satisfied her expectations. He smiled as he nearly forgot one otherimportant item. He had to be selfish too.

"Turn around, put your hands behind your back." She immediately spun aroundand held her arms behind her back. She had to know what he intended next.

The sound of the handcuffs was loud in the narrow confines of the alley,echoing off the building walls. He could feel shivers run through her as hetightened the cuffs. He put his hands on her upper arms and leaned close. Softlyhe whispered in her ear as he held her, "I promise I'll do my best for you.You will never have cause to look back on this moment with regret."

He picked up her coat from the car seat and put it around her shoulders.He buttoned it while standing behind her, reaching around, his arms encirclingher. "We're going to go to a nice place, like I promised. We're going home,our home." Home was his place, now hers as well. He had no intention of returningher to the apartment. From this night on they would be together.

He picked up her clothes from the front seat and tossed them in the back.She wouldn't need the dress any time soon. "I want you to get back in the car.I'll hold your head so you don't bump it. Back to the seat, lean forward andsit down." With her arms behind her it was a difficult move but she managed.He kept his hand on the back of her head. "Good, now turn to the side and putyour legs inside." That part was easier and one she could manage with somegrace. She had to lean forward because of the cuffs. He loosened the buckleon her seat belt before fastening it around her waist.

"I know all this is difficult but you are doing very well." He picked upher shoes and dropped them behind the seat. She wouldn't need them either. "You'realmost ready. One last thing, cross your ankles." He reached under her seatand took out the strap he'd put there earlier. She leaned forward and lookeddown to watch as he wrapped it around her ankles and pulled it snug but nottoo tight, hobbling her. "You won't have to sit like this for very long. Wedon't have much further to go."

When he stood up he didn't close her door right away. She looked up at himexpectantly, obviously excited at what was happening but concerned about whatwould happen next. On impulse he reached down and unbuttoned the top buttonson her coat. With her hands bound behind her back she couldn't stop him. Whenshe looked down to see what he had done he suddenly grabbed her hair with hisother hand, pulled her head back and kissed her passionately while his freehand slipped inside to fondle her breast.

Her reaction told him all he needed to know. If not for the restraints shewould have been all over him. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, andthe way she tried to press herself against his hand could only mean she wantedmore. In due time there would be more, later that night, but for now she mustunderstand she would wait for him to decide the when and the where.

He took the shortest way home, partly due to his own eagerness but also tominimize the risk of someone seeing her and calling the police. Hopefully shewould vouch for what was happening if they were stopped. He didn't want tothink about how he would explain driving around with a nude woman in handcuffssitting next to him.

No explanations to the authorities were needed as the trip proved uneventful.In the driveway he hit the remote for the garage door. Not until the door closedbehind him did he relax. He turned to check on how she was doing. She hadn'tsaid a word since he'd put her in the car.

He got out, went around the front of the car and opened her door. Insidethe garage he wasn't too concerned about nosy neighbors. He knelt down nextto her and finished unbuttoning her raincoat. Her only reaction was to leanforward and flex her hands behind her back. No longer in a hurry he took anothermoment to enjoy the prize before him. He released the seat belt, pulled hercoat open and pushed it back out of the way.

He reached up and stroked her hair. "You are very attractive. Did you knowthat?" He ran a hand up her leg, stopping on her thigh. Her reaction was toclose her eyes and take a sharp, deep breath. Her body betrayed her reactionto being helpless and vulnerable, subject to his unrestricted touch. Temptingas she was in her current state it would be easier on both of them once hegot her in the house.

She didn't answer. He tried to remember if he'd forbidden her to talk. Maybeshe had assumed it. "You do not have permission to speak." That would makeit clear. There was no particular reason for the order other than the pleasureof controlling her.

He released the strap around her ankles and helped her out of the car. Takingher through the inside door he brought her into the house. It was time to keephis promise from lunch the day before. She would have her questions and answers,but the setting would be more to his liking.

A Matter of Trust

She looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. It was clean but spartan inappearance, definitely a man's place. Behind her back she tested her bondsone more time. The handcuffs were securely in place and would stay there untilhe took them off. Why did she have such a strong reaction to the touch of hishand when she was helpless? She couldn't help herself. She wondered if he realizedwhat they did to her. Maybe he did know.

Given her state of undress she expected him to head right for the bedroombut as usual he proved to be unpredictable. He took her into the living roominstead. There he pulled a cushion off the sofa and threw it onto the floorin front of a chair.

"Kneel on the cushion, face the chair." He held onto her arm as she kneltdown. "Keep your legs underneath, sit back on your heels," he told her. Shehad a good idea of what he wanted. She'd gone through the same thing before,last weekend at the cabin. Back straight, head up, eyes front, shoulders backand she remembered to keep her knees slightly parted before he had to remindher. She couldn't see the expression on his face, which was just as well becauseshe figured it wouldn't be wise for him to see her own quick smirk of satisfaction.She had always been a quick learner.

She felt his presence, standing behind her. She concentrated on holding perfectlystill, staring right into the leather upholstery on the chair back. It seemedlike hours before he finally walked around her and sat down, though it wasn'tmore than a minute. He hadn't said a word, nor had he made a move to correcther. She was careful to keep her expression passive but she knew she'd gottenit right the first time, without any help. She met his gaze and held it. Notin defiance but as a show of the pride she felt at that moment.

"Spread your knees farther apart." She opened her legs and exposed herselfto him without breaking eye contact.

"That's better. Now then, you have some questions? As I promised, you canask anything, for as long as you want. We're in no hurry tonight, and I don'texpect any interruptions. No restrictions, you can speak your mind if you wantto lecture me. However, you will maintain your position. You may begin." Heleaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

He might have all the time in the world but she didn't look forward to kneelingat his feet till morning. She had spent several hours writing down a list ofeverything she wanted to know. It was on several sheets of paper, in her purse.Out in his car, where it might as well be on the moon. She'd have to work frommemory first before taking a chance on asking him to retrieve her notes.

"I can ask about anything, and you won't get mad? You won't punish me ifI say something you don't like?" Considering her current situation it seemedto be a prudent question.

"Anything. You have my word. Tonight you are free to speak your mind."

He sounded sincere. If she couldn't trust him by now she was in too muchtrouble for it to make any difference. Her mouth widened into a grin as theperfect test question popped into her head.

"Okay then, first question." She twisted to one side, held out her handsand shook the handcuffs. "What can I do to get these things off my wrists?" Quicklyshe returned to what she thought of as her position of attention.

He burst out laughing. "A good one! I like a challenge." He dug into hisfront pocket and took out a small key. "You can use this key to unlock yourcuffs. To answer your question: there is nothing you can do on your own toremove them, because I can't think of any reason to give you the key. I intendfor you to wear the cuffs as often as I like, for as long as I choose. Nextquestion."

She didn't really expect it to be that easy. But there were many ways toapproach a problem. "Why? Why the handcuffs? Why do you make me kneel likethis, stripped and bound?"

His expression went from playful to serious in an instant. There was no laughterbefore his answer this time. "Because I can. Because I want it." He pausedfor a moment, leaning forward. "Because you will do it for me."

Simple and to the point; she had to admit he was right as well. All he hadto do was ask. She remembered one of the top questions on her list.

"How did you get the keys to my apartment? Do you have my car keys too?" Thatmystery had bugged her for weeks.

"I won't tell you. Not yet. I will share as much information with you asI think appropriate, but some areas I keep to myself. I won't explain why.Next question."

So she wasn't going to receive total enlightenment tonight. For some reasonit didn't bother her. She decided to see just how honest his answers wouldbe.

"Are you going to take me to bed? Are we going to make love? When?" She couldn'tbelieve she'd ever hear herself asking blunt questions like that to any man.

"Yes I am, and yes we will." He took out his pocket watch and popped openthe cover to check the time. He closed the cover and put the watch back inhis pocket. "As for when, your answer is: right now."

He was out of the chair before finishing his reply. Before she could reacthe reached down, put his hands on her waist and lifted her up off the cushion.No sooner did she get her feet on the floor than he bent down again, circledher legs with one arm and hoisted her over his shoulder, her head hanging downbehind his back. His arm around her legs held her in place as he headed forthe bedroom. Her last thought was that she might be too clever for her owngood. Then he was softly rubbing the back of her knee with his free hand andshe forgot all about questions and answers for the rest of the night, and mostof the next morning.

The Price to Pay

They'd spent all day Saturday in the house, alternating between quick meals,talking, and workouts in the bedroom. Sunday he slowed down the pace. Theyhad a leisurely breakfast and took time to get cleaned up. He even went outto the car to retrieve her clothes.

He didn't give her permission to get dressed though. The weekend had gonefar better than he had ever hoped. Which made it all the more difficult tobring up what had to come next. He ordered her to follow him down the stairsto the basement. What came next hadn't been planned but she'd left him no choice.

Her wrists, locked in leather cuffs, were held high over her head by a chainhanging down from the ceiling. Her ankles were bound together by a larger setof leather cuffs and linked to an eyebolt set into the floor. A wide leatherstrap connected her ankle cuffs and then looped over her legs near her waist,so that she couldn't stand or even rise from her current position. A padlockin the overhead chain allowed him to adjust it so she had no slack. The posturecollar was locked on her neck.

He had told her the wristwatch was forbidden. Instead she had tried to bringit along in her purse. The price for her disobedience was a trip to what hecalled the time out room. It was more of a large closet in the basement ratherthan a real room. It consisted of grey concrete block walls, a bare slab fora floor and a stout close fitting solid steel door.

"What were you thinking? Did you really believe I would ignore it?" She wouldn'tlook at him. He grabbed the collar under her chin and forced her to look rightat him. "You knew what I wanted. Forbidden means exactly that. You are an intelligentwoman who can grasp the spirit behind the letter of the law."

He wasn't exaggerating. The way she had tried to sneak around a direct orderwas intolerable. An attitude like that had to be cut short immediately. "Nomatter how close we become there will always be a line. Don't you see it hasto be that way?" He didn't know why she had done it but it was an accomplishedfact now, a black mark he could not overlook. "My place is on one side of theline, you place is on the other side. We may talk, laugh, play around, evenargue, but when the line is reached it all stops. When I tell you to do something,that's the line. End of discussion, you abide by my wishes even if you don'tlike it."

For the moment she was under orders to remain silent. His questions wererhetorical. If she were to answer it would only make her punishment worse. "Neverforget you are the one who is owned. Those are not empty words. They carryan obligation, a duty you failed to carry out."

She started crying again. He hated the necessity of disciplining her butit was his commitment, his duty to show her he would be a strict master whodid not let her stray outside her borders. He wanted to hold her, wipe awayher tears and tell her everything was all right. He knew if he did he wouldlose her respect, and ultimately she would leave. She would walk away fromhim and rightly so, for he would be a failure if he wasn't strong enough tohold onto her.

She had her eyes closed. "Look at me." His tone was quiet but firm. He didn'tneed to shout to get his point across. She opened her eyes. "Do you understandwhy you are here?"

She tried to nod but the collar made it difficult to move her head. She hadto lean forward and back again.

She had defied him. That was the troubling part. Maybe she had thought she'dtest his resolve, maybe it was careless inattention, or maybe it was laziness.He didn't know why but he knew what had to be done.

"This is how it will be. Your punishment will be to stay here for a certainperiod of time. Afterwards the incident will be forgotten and never mentionedagain. I want your promise there won't be a next time. Can you do this forme?"

She attempted a nod again. He stood up, took out his watch and checked thetime. "I'll be back for you when your time is up. Until then I want you tothink about what you've done and how you will make sure we never have thistalk again."

Working Late

Her punishment lasted for only an hour. When he released her he held herclose, the two of them sitting on the floor of the room. She cried, promisingbetween bouts of tears she would never do it again. He reassured her, talkingsoftly while stroking her hair. Finally he picked her up in his arms, carriedher upstairs, and gently they made love one more time.

Later they went out for dinner. The coming week they would move her thingsinto the house. On the way home he decided to stop at the video store for amovie, something light to wind down what had been an intense weekend.

That night they were watching a movie on TV when his cell phone pager wentoff. He picked it up from the end table and looked at the display. "Bad news,a server just went down." He sat up and studied the message. "Looks like it'sgoing to be a long night."

She rubbed the back of his neck. The movie wasn't all that great but shewanted to be next to him. It had been a long weekend, an emotional rollercoasterof ups and downs. She had her eyes closed and was half-asleep from exhaustionwhen the pager went off. "Do you have to go in?" She had seen the memos atwork about 24 hour on call staff but never thought it might affect her.

He thought for a moment. "No, I can do it from here unless it turns out tobe hardware. That's a critical machine; it can't wait until morning." He lookedat her. "You getting sleepy?" He put his arm around her shoulder.

She began rubbing her palm over his chest. "You could keep me awake."

Reluctantly he stopped her by placing his hand over hers. "Not tonight, thoughyou tempt me." He picked up his pocket watch and opened it.

"What time is it" she asked.

He closed the case and looked at her. "Time for you to go to bed, and timefor me to go to work."

"Can't I stay up with you a little…" she began.

"No, do as I say." He pointed to the bedroom. "You're going to bed, but you'regoing to keep me company too." He took her hand and stood up. "Go get readyfor bed." She was going to get her sleep but not quite the way she expected. "Comedownstairs to the office when you're done."

Hearing the magic words, do as I say , she didn't argue.While she hurried off to get ready he went down to his basement office. Hehave to run through the error logs first, then run file system checks, maybeeven hardware diagnostics. Time consuming, but it came with the job. He turnedon his workstation and watched it boot up while he waited for her. Behind himon the floor was the latest addition to the office, something he'd added forjust such a contingency. He didn't like to be hit with a problem when he didn'thave the proper equipment to solve it.

When she came in she stopped as soon as she spotted the cage in the middleof the floor. It was the first time she'd seen it from the outside but sheknew exactly what it was. He got up from his desk and went to her. She hadon one of his shirts as a pajama top. He put his hands on her arms and lookeddeep into her eyes.

"This is what we are going to do. I'm going to sit over there," he noddedtoward the desk, "and you are going to sleep in here while I'm fixing the server.I'll be in the room with you every minute. Any questions?"

"Will I be able to see you?" She wouldn't be afraid as long as he was withher.

He smiled and kissed her. "No blindfold, no gag, no restraints. See? I turnedit to the side so you can watch me."

She put her arms around him. There was no question she would do it, but itwas a relief to know it wouldn't be a repeat of her first experience. "Whatshould I do?"

"House rules, no clothes in cages. Take off that top first." Since nearlyall her clothes were still back at her apartment she'd had to improvise. Whileshe unbuttoned the shirt he unlatched the door to the cage. "Now in you go,head first." She knelt down and looked inside. He'd made some changes; therewas a blanket spread over the padded bottom and a pillow at the far end. Shecrawled in.

"Watch your head, its low in there." She looked back at him over her shoulder.It was very close quarters. The top bars were inches above her head. He closedthe door as soon as she was inside. The sound of the padlock snapping shuton the door latch was unmistakable. She would not be leaving on her own.

He crouched down next to her so he could reach in and pull up the other halfof the blanket, covering her. "I don't want you to get cold."

She laid her head down on the pillow and pulled the blanket close aroundher. She looked out at him from behind the bars. "You promise you won't leaveme alone?"

He stroked her cheek. "I promise. I'll be at the desk. All you have to dois yell if you need anything." He took hold of her hand. "Don't worry. I'llbe watching over you all night long."

He stood up and went back to his desk. She curled up as best she could inher blanket and peeked out at him as he worked. He'd type something, wait,scratch his head, and do it again. Every so often he'd turn around and checkon her. At some point she closed her eyes and dozed off.

She had no idea what time it was when she woke up but it must have been earlyin the morning. In the dim glow coming from the screens on his desk she couldsee him sitting close by, cross-legged on the floor, watching her.

"I fell asleep. Are you done? What time is it?"

He reached in and gently brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "No, I'mwaiting for a job to finish. Don't worry about the time."

"Aren't you tired? You need to sleep too." She wished she could do somethingto help him.

"This isn't the first all-nighter I've had. How about you? Did you sleepokay? Are you comfortable?"

She snuggled into her blanket. "It's very cozy in here. I feel so safe andwarm and…" She slipped a hand out from under the blanket and took holdof the bars separating them. "I was dreaming about you." The bars were farenough apart that her hand could fit through but she instinctively knew thatwouldn't be right. They represented her boundary line. She'd learned that afternoonnot to play word games with his rules. He could reach in but she could go nofurther than the cage bars.

He put his hand over hers. "I hope it wasn't a nightmare." His smile toldher he was joking. "You go back to sleep. I have more work left to do." Hestood up and went back to his desk.

She had never met a man like him. He was caring and decent, but he expectedthe world, including herself, to operate on his terms. If she hadn't knownhis other side she would have called him conceited or arrogant, but the wordsdidn't really fit. He didn't act superior, boasting of his abilities whilecomplaining of widespread incompetence in others. He was fun to be with, hada wry sense of deadpan humor and was polite. If anything he was too formalin how he spoke, even when it was just the two of them. What set him apartwas the way he routinely told her what to do and didn't hesitate to correcther if she didn't get it right; right being his way or no way. She never hadto guess with him. She knew what he wanted, what he expected from her, andwhat she could do to please him.

She was reminded of the old saying, about a place for everything and everythingin its place. He'd created a special place for her, and then put her whereshe belonged. Not just figuratively but in a very literal way. Even with hereyes closed she could feel the bars of the cage surrounding and enclosing her.It was a place he had set aside for her and no one else, where all the worriesof the world were locked out, kept far away while she slept in her own littlespace.

She didn't notice the pocket watch on the floor until she heard the faintticking. He never went anywhere without it, so he must have left it there.Odd how it seemed to dictate her life even though it was nothing more thana collection of old gears and springs. Yet every time he opened it to checkthe time it seemed to tell him what she had to do next. It was all a matterof perception. To everyone else it was an antique timepiece, but for her ithad become a small window on her future, a window only he could look through.All he had to do was open it and take a quick look inside. Then he'd know whatto do with her.

She'd never seen inside the case. All she had to do was reach out, pick itup, and see the mystery he held in his hand. It would never happen. She tuckedher arms back inside the blanket and closed her eyes, listening to the steadyticking next to her. It was his place alone to choose her future; she was contentto be in her place, at his side.