“Looks old,” I say.
He smacks me again.
“You manage to have quite the mouth on you when you’re scared,” he observes. “This is an older home, but it is also a very large and nicely appointed one. I am fortunate enough to have done well financially in my life, and I am looking to share that.”
He sounds like a dating app blurb, except he still has me over his muscular, murderous knee.
“You need to be looked after,” he continues. “You need to be provided for and punished when necessary. You want it. You crave it. That is why you’ve given yourself every time I have wanted to take you.”
He’s trying to make me complicit in my own kidnapping. Telling me I want this when he already told me it doesn’t matter what I want. He’s about to start seeing a different side of me. I’ve been too compliant. Too fucking aroused. I’ve followed my body’s instincts, forgetting that my body was forged long ago in a world where there were no laws to protect women from anything and siding with big predatory males was a good survival tactic. We are all constantly fighting our instincts, and this is a perfect time for me to start.
“I’m not some submissive little fucking captive,” I tell him. “I’m a waitress, I’m a babysitter. I’m a student.”
He snorts gently with laughter. “You say those things as if I should be intimidated or impressed.”
“Buddy, you couldn’t handle one fucking day of my life.”
He smacks my ass again, but not as hard as before. I think I’m amusing him. That’s not really the effect I was going for, but okay.
“Could I not, Laura?”
“No. You couldn’t even handle me telling you I didn’t want to be your captive. You’d lose your mind if table three sent back pasta three times and then it turned out they just wanted fries. You wouldn’t be able to last an hour in my world without shooting someone in the face. I’m stronger than you, because I can take it.”
I feel him rocking gently beneath me as he laughs. “Laura,” he says. “You don’t know me well enough to know what I can and cannot take.”
“That’s because this is our first real conversation and you’re a weirdo who wears a mask to capture women who are probably half his age, you fucking weirdo.”
I’m being repetitive, but it’s hard to form good insults when you’re hanging head down toward the carpet and also fearing a bit for your life but also being very annoyed because you really actually do not have time for this.
“You’re starting to become disrespectful again,” he warns me.
I take the risk of scrambling up from his lap. To my surprise, he lets me. I turn around on the bed, ignoring my sore ass in order to confront him face to face—or eye to eye as it happens to be on this occasion because he’s still got that stupid mask on.
“I’d be more scared if you weren’t constantly keeping your face from me,” I tell him. “You’re like a shitty bank robber or something.”
His pupils narrow a little. He didn’t like that. Good. Fuck him.
???
She is giving me some real attitude now. Interesting. She’s obviously going to be the type to need a longer, harder, much more painful spanking. For the moment I let her have her little tirade. This is the first time we have really talked, and I am enjoying her spice.
“There’s no point keeping me here,” she argues. “You’re going to get bored of me.”
I could never get bored of her. But I don’t tell her that. I tell her something else instead.
“I want you to have my babies, Laura.”
Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens in shock. She didn’t expect me to say that.
“Oh, Christ,” she says. “Seriously?”
“You object?”‘
She twists her face up at me, as if I just said something very, very stupid.
“And are the babies also going to be captive, or are they going to go to school and talk about their mom in a box? You’re not thinking this through,” she says, tapping the side of her head. “It’s not practical. Plus there’re maternal health appointments…”
“I’ll have doctors come here.”
