The Visitor
By Ryan Barlow
Copyright 2000, 2012 Ryan Barlow
Smashwords Edition
License Notes
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I reached over and slapped the alarm as it shrieked its unwelcome wake-up call. Groaning, I rolled back on my side, pulled the pillow over my head and tried to slide back into my dream. I had been immersed in a tender embrace with a striking leading man when the interruption pulled me from his arms. I tried to find my way back to his lips, but soon realized that it was not meant to be. Sighing with resignation, I tossed my pillow aside and stared at the ceiling. "Mornings are such a pain," I thought to myself once again.
Then I realized I wasn't alone in the room. I froze. Sitting three feet from my bed in my papasan chair was a figure dressed in dark clothing. I started to panic, instinctively retreating back towards my headboard when he spoke.
"Don't move. Don't speak."
I obeyed, lying as still as I possibly could, a cold fear seeping into my flesh.
He rose slowly and crossed over to the bed. I tried not to look. He kneeled down beside me and gazed at me, running his eyes the length of my pajama clad body. He reached his hand out and brushed a lock of hair off my cheek. My eyes went to his face as he placed his hand over my mouth. Before I could register what was happening, he quickly flipped my body and I found myself face down in my pillow with my arms wrenched painfully behind my back. I winced as I felt my arms jerked up over my head and then bound tightly with a soft fabric. He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head up roughly and tied a scarf around my mouth and knotted it firmly behind my head. My head dropped to the pillow as he leaned in to whisper in my ear,
"You're mine, pet. You will do exactly as I say. You will not speak unless I give permission, you will not move unless you have my consent."
He pushed me onto my back and secured my wrists to the headboard, and for the first time I had a clear look at him.
He wore a determined look on his round face. There was an intensely piercing fire burning in his icy blue eyes. He moved down to the end of the bed and anchored my ankles to the posts of my canopy, leaving my legs spread wide. He turned back to me and smiled a cold wry smile. His hand landed upon my stomach and slowly glided up to my neck where it stopped, and rested heavily. I became frightened as I began to imagine the possibilities of what might have been going through his mind. After what seemed an interminable pause, his fingers found the buttons on my nightgown. He gingerly traced the smooth raised ridges of the round plastic discs for a moment, lost in thought. Then, without warning, he gripped the soft fabric and roughly ripped the enclosures open.
As the buttons hit the wall, the cool air embraced the newly exposed flesh of my chest. I could feel the chill raising my nipples against my will and I pleaded in my mind for this to stop right there, that my visitor should think of some other, more entertaining pastime to involve himself in.