Taking Her Down

by Vonna Harper

  Too-big fingers clamped around her left wrist and wrenched her arm behind her. Despite her give-it-all-she-had struggles, he captured her other wrist and brought it back as well.

  “Pay attention.” Moist breath dampened the back of her neck. “I strongly recommend you not forget anything about what I’m doing. It’ll make what comes after easier to accept.”

  I’m not your damn play toy! Determined to regain use of her arms, she strained to free them.

  “So you like to fight, do you? Fine with me. The thing is, I always win.”

  Bucking and kicking, she put all her strength into trying to get him off her. The couch was so soft she felt as if she were sinking into it, which she might if he leaned more heavily against her. As her muscles started trembling, she’d come to the not too brilliant conclusion that he must be taunting her. He placed one of her wrists over the other so he could control both of them with a single hand. She debated trying to dig her nails into his thigh but he’d probably make her pay for it.

  Pay for it. A captive’s punishment.

  Out of breath, she stopped fighting. She prayed he’d let up on the pressure. When he didn’t, she slipped into the sensation. A part of her wondered if he might not be associated with MSDB but had snuck onto the island so he could play his sick game, but she didn’t see how that was possible. Once this, whatever it was, had played itself out, he’d explain the rationale behind this rough and raw approach.

  They’d move on to the next lesson.

  “On a scale of one to ten,” he said, “how scared are you?”

  Good question. Designed to bring her back to Earth. “Maybe a four.”

  “Or higher. I’m going to add more elements. Then I’ll determine whether your fear barometer goes up or down.”

  He released her wrists and leaned to the side, so he could pick something off the floor. She couldn’t see what it was and didn’t want to know. Then he looped rope around her arms just above her elbows and tightened the strands.

  “Damn it, no!” She fought to pull her arms free.

  “Yes.” The rope pressed against her flesh, drawing her elbows close together. The strength that allowed her to work alongside her employees was useless because she couldn’t get any leverage. Growing strain in her shoulders caught her attention and she forced herself to relax.

  “I’m not going to dislocate anything.” He patted her cheek. “Fortunately for you, I’m well trained in what the female body is capable of. Sometimes, I even take that into consideration.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I intend to keep you under control, and this is the most efficient means of accomplishing my goal—for now.”

  He’d been doing something to the rope while he’d been talking. She tried to separate her arms. They went nowhere, refused to move. Two rope strands had been sealed against her flesh between her shoulders and elbows, rendering her upper limbs useless.

  Why the hell hadn’t she blurted out the safe word? If she’d yelled “Red”, she’d have been out of this mess.

  “This way,” he said as he got off her, “you’re less likely to injure yourself and I’m more likely to enjoy—yes, enjoy. Have to remember that.”

  A sigh of relief escaped her now that his weight no longer pressed down on her. Wishing she could tap into his mood, she again tried to free her arms. Maybe she wasn’t ready to put an end to things, after all.

  “I’m well aware that it feels strange,” he said. “Get used to having only limited control over your body. I’m going to get you up and on your feet so you can have the maximum experience.”

  Giving her no time to process his words, he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her off the couch. He supported her as she planted her feet under her, even helped her stand.

  Then he stepped away. Her elbows were so close together that her breasts were thrust out. Her arms flopped like useless appendages. She could move her fingers, not that it did her any good.

  Dragging her attention off the in-control man who’d done this to her, she glanced over her shoulders but couldn’t see his handiwork. It didn’t matter. She knew.

  “This,” he said, “makes you more malleable.”

  “Malleable?” she shot back. “You—untie me!”

  “No.”

  She should’ve demanded that he tell her when this thing would end but she was in no position to argue with him. In truth, she was in no position to do anything.

  He never took his gaze off her as he slowly circled. At first, she turned so she could keep watching him. Then she decided he was testing her nerves and stood with her head high and legs slightly spread to keep from swaying. Because the windows were open, heat and humidity, as well as the incessant insect humming and an overpowering smell, surrounded her. Maybe she could twist open the door and run outside, but he’d undoubtedly catch her and haul her back inside. Besides, she might lose her balance and fall down the stairs.

  Might anger him.

  If she hadn’t worked so hard to make her independent way in the world, she would have already insisted on being rescued. But she was who she was, a woman who stood on her own two feet.

  Usually.

  Contemplating how much she’d lost, thanks to a single rope, briefly distracted her from him. Then he planted himself in front of her. He was so close his presence invaded her pores.

  “I would have made a good hunter, a warrior,” he informed her. “Valuable to the tribe.”

  “What am I? Some game you’ve shot?”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, she guessed she’d said the wrong thing, but was anything right? He clamped his fingers around her chin and forced her head up. When she tried to shake loose of his grip, he tightened his hold. Unnerved, she held still.

  “I’d never shoot you. If you learn nothing else today, don’t forget this. Part of my intention is to take you deep into yourself. I don’t want to harm you. I know what I’m doing. I’ve always known…”

  His silence added to her agitation, making it even more difficult for her to stand her ground. After what might’ve been the better part of a minute, he let go and walked over to the closest window. His back was to her, as if she no longer mattered to him.

  What are you thinking?

  “Did you have to do what you did?” Her voice trembled a little. “You must know I want to find out if I have a submissive side. I would have agreed to—”

  He whirled around. “I don’t care.” He thumped his chest. “Right now is about me, examining my needs and seeing whether they’ve changed.”

  If it wasn’t for his intense stare she would have questioned him about his needs, but the longer he regarded her, the less she wanted to know what was going on inside him. She considered herself a good judge of people and lack of turnover among her employees bore that out. Why, then, couldn’t she begin to grasp what her captor was about?

  Listen and learn. And don’t push him.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Turn around. I want to see what you look like helpless.”

  He’d already done that, not that she was in any position to argue the point. As she swiveled away from him, she tried bringing her arms closer together, to see if she could make the rope slide off her, but the strands remained snugly in place. Her arms were starting to numb while the ache between her shoulder blades was hard to ignore.

  Not pain, she acknowledged when her back was to him. Another sensation, more intimate.

  Wondering if his intention was to make her admit he’d turned her on a little, she again faced him.

  “I used to Dom here every free minute I had,” he told her. “I know how addictive the lifestyle can become. For some people, the need explodes the first moment they experience it. Others need a slow immersion. I exploded. I’ll soon learn which it is for you.”

  Not sure she fully grasped what he’d told her, she opted to wait and see if he’d continue. Thinking back over some of the things he’d said, she realized he’d spoken of his need
s, not hers.

  The walls seemed to be drawing toward her, undoubtedly a by-product of being trapped in the room with him. She told herself it was better this way when he went over to one of the wicker chairs and sat. At the same time, she felt even more exposed.

  He leaned forward, lifted the lid on the chest and extracted a pair of scissors.

  Chapter Six

  “What’s that for?” she blurted. “You can’t cut—”

  “I’ve already demonstrated I can do whatever I want. Maybe I’ll hack off your hair, including what’s hiding your pussy.”

  His hands on her pussy, drawing out her flesh so he could see what he was doing. Maybe, first, tying her down so she couldn’t move. A long, hot shudder ran through her.

  “Trying to wrap your mind around that, are you?” He opened and closed the shining blades. “It won’t be the last time I throw possibilities at you. The thing is, you won’t know which I intend to make good on until I start.”

  Fighting to hold his threat at bay, she straightened. When had she started to slump? Certainly, she wasn’t already admitting defeat. “You’re trying to scare me.”

  “Is it working?”

  Head still high, she shook it.

  “I don’t believe you.” He jabbed a finger at the floor in front of him. “Kneel here.”

  Where’s the damned listening device? If it worked as well as she’d been assured of, someone was listening to every word being said. Obviously, he didn’t care.

  Fine. Neither did she. Yet.

  “I gave you an order,” he snapped. “Kneel here.”

  “No.” Where had the denial come from?

  “Oh?” He flexed the fingers of the hand not holding the scissors. “Do you really think you can make good on that?”

  Remember what you are, a tough broad. “I deserve to know what I’m getting into. Maybe I’ll decide to stop working with you, select someone more—”

  “That isn’t up to you.”

  She was in over her head with this man. He knew how to fuck with her mind and was, probably, just getting started.

  Where would he take her? Was there another existence for her at the end of this journey, a place of peace and acceptance, a willingness to let him dominate every aspect of her existence?

  She could either let him walk her down that dark road or fight. In the end, the result might be the same—if it was that simple.

  There was too much to think about, too many options that weren’t because he’d drawn her elbows together.

  “I’m confusing you. Good, because that’s my intention.” He slid the scissors over the mound between his legs. “I take pride in a certain element of self-control. At least I have that. I can, and often do put off achieving sexual satisfaction until I’m convinced the sub has earned this.” He repeated the gesture. “Until you beg for it.”

  She’d concluded forced sex would be part of her indoctrination into submission and had wondered what would tip her so far over the edge that she’d want to be taken. What she hadn’t prepared for was to have the challenge thrown out so soon.

  “I’m not a nympho, so if you’re expecting—”

  “I told you, I have no preconceived notions about who and what you are. Down on your knees with your back to me.”

  Warm air from the overhead fan brushed her cheeks and throat. He was waiting for her to make the next move, which, in turn, would dictate what he did next. She debated refusing, but if she did now, she’d have drawn a line in the sand when she had to discover how far he intended to take her.

  Wondering what had happened to the independent woman she’d always believed she was, she awkwardly sank down facing him. Her knees struck the hard floor and she started to tip forward. “Damn.” As the stinging sensation in her knees subsided, she studied the floor. It was spotless.

  “I’m waiting.”

  I know you are. I just— Cutting off what would have been an excuse, she turned in a half-circle until she was staring at the closed door, beyond which waited what might dictate how she lived the rest of her life. She was aware of every inch of her body, mostly her shoulders, arms and back. Undoubtedly, he was staring at that part of her knowing she couldn’t see him.

  A whispery sound caught her attention. By the time she realized he’d stood, he was pressing his hand against the back of her head. Unable to resist, she fell forward. He grabbed her hair and eased her down the last few inches. Her forehead was on the floor, her nose so close she could smell the varnished wood.

  “What the hell?” She tried to sit up.

  He flattened his hand over her head and easily kept her in place.

  “I could have given you more precise directions like I did before, but sometimes I opt for physically demonstrating control. This is one of those times. You are not to move.” He thumped the top of her head. “Got it. Stay where you belong.”

  Where I belong? Like some animal on a short leash?

  Tears stung her eyes. Grateful for the curtain of her hair, she blinked the moisture away. No matter what happened, she would not cry.

  “Clothes have no business in here, at least for you. I want to see what I got for my troubles.”

  Her lower arms had fallen forward enough that she might’ve been able to plant her hands on the floor and keep some of the pressure off her forehead. No matter that she must’ve looked foolish, she’d take what little self-determination she could.

  In a moment.

  He started walking around her, his sandals slapping against wood. She hated bowing before him and yet—and yet the newness stroked her. It was so simple for him to turn her into something she’d never imagined becoming.

  Warm fingers slid under the bottom of her shorts. He raked his nails over the backs of her thighs, making her jump and whimper.

  “That’s the sound,” he muttered. “One I intend to hear many times a day. Focus on the sensation. That’s the only thing you have to do.”

  When he scratched her again, she started to yelp. Afraid of angering him, she clenched her teeth. His nails were thick but thankfully not sharp. As he repeatedly marked her, she struggled to take his suggestion to heart. The stinging, biting sensations became her everything. She dismissed the imprisoning rope and barely noticed the blood that had rushed to her head. This nameless man was attacking her thighs and buttocks, not causing pain as much as introducing her to something without beginning or end.

  This moment was everything, the sum and substance of her existence. Anticipating every sharp stroke, feeling the tingling ease, only to roar back.

  “Good,” he muttered. “Good. Stay with it. Claim the pain.”

  Pain?

  Before she could think what to do with the word, he yanked down on her shorts and slapped her ass. Hard.

  “What the—? Damn it, what are you doing?”

  Maybe she’d tried to straighten, because he planted a hand over the back of her head and pushed down.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  To some extent she’d known he’d been toying with her. His outburst shocked her into obeying.

  He slapped her buttocks again. Anticipating yet another blow, she tensed. When it didn’t immediately come, she imagined he was laughing at her. Maybe that was better than dealing with his temper.

  A third slap, this one even harder, knocked her off her knees and forward onto the floor. Ignoring her half-off shorts, she squirmed around until she could see him.

  “I sometimes block out my actions,” he told her. “Doing so keeps me in the real world.” He paused. “Other times the situation plays itself out.” He jerked his head at the scissors. “Get your ass in the air again. If you don’t, I’ll spank you.”

  Spank me? She tried to acknowledge his warning but her mind balked. One thing she had no doubt of, this wasn’t an idle threat. In addition, his expression was becoming darker. She repeatedly struggled to hoist herself off the floor but kept failing until she hit upon rolling onto her back and sitting up, using her hands to brace herself.
She tucked her knees under her, rocked onto them, and straightened. Then, because the job was only half-done, she leaned forward so her temple once more pressed against the floor. The life she’d lived before now faded to nothing.

  “Good body tone,” he observed from behind her. “I’m going to enjoy challenging you.”

  For how long, she needed to know, but asking would have to wait.

  Her shorts only covered the bottom half of her buttocks. As she readied herself for more scratching or a continuation of being spanked, she felt less than she’d been when she’d started toward the island a lifetime ago.

  Not yet something new.

  When he grabbed her shorts waistband, it took her a moment to realize he was putting the cotton under tension so the scissors could more easily slice through the fabric. He started at the bottom hem and marched slowly, steadily toward her waist. She’d never imagined scissors could be so strong. When he was done, he drew the severed fabric away from her hip until it hung. She was still wearing her panties and the other side of her shorts was in place.

  Not for long.

  No matter that she wasn’t sure she was ready for this, she mentally followed what he was doing as he repeated the action on the other side of her shorts. What had adequately covered her not long ago now dangled. She brought her legs together in an attempt to keep the ruined garment on her.

  “No,” he said.

  Too much blood pulsed in her forehead, making her slow to comprehend what he had in mind as he rammed his hand between her legs and forced them apart. He grabbed the loose material and yanked down.

  “Done.” He draped the garment over the back of her neck. “Obviously, you aren’t going to have any more use for that. Ever. Now, what next?”

  Let me go! Keep me here!

  He ran his fingers into her hair and used it as a handle to straighten her. That done, he closed his hand around the elbow rope and hauled her to her feet, standing as he did.

  “I don’t believe in wasting time. Some Doms prefer the slow start, but I’m not one of them. Not anymore. Stay right there. I need to make some modifications.”

  Fear had a life of its own, a will stronger than her determination not to let it win. No matter that he didn’t want her to move, she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder as he dug into the chest again. When he took out another length of rope and looped it over the back of his neck, she wondered if she’d always dread what the chest contained. At least he hadn’t chosen handcuffs or a whip.