The Closet

By Sara Spring

She searched his face for intent as he wrapped the silk tie around her small wrists binding her to the hook in the closet. She could not read him. Was she to trust him?

“I won’t be long.” The deep tendrils of his voice soothed her nerves.

“How long is long, Master?” she implored him.

Without another word, he turned and closed the door leaving a sliver of light and left. She could hear his footsteps fade away down the hall the front door, the clanking of metal as he unlocked it and the wood shrieking as he closed the warped door. As much as she wished, he did not lock the front door leaving her naked and vulnerable tied up in the closet, hanging exposed.

Adjusting herself in the black stilettos she wore, she tried the restraints. Perhaps she could undo herself and when she heard him come home she could return herself back onto the hook. No matter how much she tried it was fruitless, he had her tied in multiple places all of which would give away her effort. In fear that he would be angered by her actions, she gave up and remained.

The seconds ticked by slowly. She entertained herself with daydreams that he would return to find her just as he had left her. He would take her gently down from the restraints and into his arms. The crinkle of his starched buttoned shirt rustling against her soft skin. His warm hands would touch her cold skin and lay her down on the soft bed. Massaging her sore and tired muscles, he’d kiss them and she would begin to relax. Between her legs she began to get wet.

He did not return, instead she heard voices walking past the apartment. It was a busy street in the city and they resided on the first floor. Anyone could try the door and walk in. The bedroom, located to the right of the front door was easily accessible. What if a deranged homeless walked in to find her in this state. What would they do to her? Her mind began to race with horrific imagery of torment and abuse. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she focused on her lover. They had not known each other for very long, but now she was forced to trust him. Wondering if he was outside, sitting quietly on the steps of the apartment watching these people pass by she wanted to know if he was turned on with the thought that she was tied up inside and no one knew? Was he protecting her as a watch guard, ensuring no one would enter so long as she was vulnerable? Perhaps he was not. Where could he be? Her mind began to race with possibilities. The store getting food for dinner? Was he going to leave her long enough to scare her only to make up with a romantic dinner – reinforcing her need to trust him?

She began to feel foolish. He would never put her in dangers way, would he?

The minutes turned to quarter hour stretches and her shoulders began to ache. Her feet hurt and soon she found that the pain in her shoulders was reaching to her back, as an old injury flared up. Adjusting herself slightly did not help and she wanted him to return soon.

He did not.

As she grew increasingly uncomfortable, so did the thoughts that formed in her mind. They ranged from rape to sheer horrors that no one would want to imagine. With nothing to assure her of safety, she ran wild with thoughts. Tears began to stream down her pink cheeks as she realized her vulnerability and fear took up residency within her. She felt abandoned and left to the elements. She began to shiver with cold.

The front door opened and her heart began to race. Was it him or a stranger coming to inflict harm upon her fragile body? She listened intently to decipher the footsteps but she heard none. Perhaps he had taken off his shoes knowing that she would be anticipating his arrival? A shadow blocked the light filtering into the closet and she caught her breath. Fear welled up inside of her as her mind raced with terrifying scenarios. It was upon her, was it going to be him or something worse? The door slowly opened and from behind it his smile shone upon her brightly. The tension in her face melted to relief and the tears that left streaks upon her skin revealed themselves in the dim light. The look upon his face changed quickly from excitement to concern and he undid the restraints. Weak and sore she fell into his arms limply. Carrying her to the bed, he laid her down gently asking if she was alright. Removing her shoes carefully and massaging her sore feet, waves of sensuality washed over her, and she begged him to never leave her for so long again.

The clock beside the bed reflected that it had been three hours and forty five minutes that she had been left with her own thoughts.

She remained still on the bed, too tired to move. He stood up and swiftly removed his shirt. She closed her eyes as the sound of his metal buckle reached her ears. A part of her relieved it was his, another part still terrified of the possibility that it could have been someone with demonic intent. The sound of his jeans rustling as he removed them turned her on and he lorded his body over hers. Clenching her eyes even tighter still, she could feel his breath on her skin. Something was not right as she distrusted him more than ever. The feeling of his hard body against her inner thigh caused her tension and without further regard he entered her body. She winced in discomfort and yet he did not stop. Horrible imagery raced through her mind.

A man with wild hair flashed before her. His eyes wild, a toothy grin and his breath smelled of a sweet stench. His hands grappled her clumsily as she was lifted in the air. A natural distrust arose within her as she was carried to a room. The lights switched off and a harsh material thrown over her face. He began to remove her underwear and feel between her legs. The tips of his fingers jabbed at her soft skin and she cried out in pain. His hand cupped her mouth and a wild fear welled up from within her little body. She couldn’t breathe. It didn’t stop. He kept a rhythmic movement against her, she could hear the slapping of skin. His breath quickened and a warm liquid oozed upon her innocent flesh. It dripped down her right side and splashed against her neck. Crying, his hands roughly pushed further against her mouth as if to suffocate her. More material cleaned her up and the underwear was placed back on in a hurry inside out. The man lifted her up and carried her back into the light. Handing her to back to her father, she continued to cry.

By now it was over, silent tears streamed down the sides of her face and into her hair. She would never be able to clean the stain off her skin so long as she lived. He rested upon her tired frame and she held him limply. Inside, she had died all over again.