Free Silent Daughter 1: Taken by Linnea May, Stella Noir Page A

"Understand?"
    I nod. "Yes, Master."
    "Close your eyes," he orders
    His command confuses me, but I follow it nonetheless. A few seconds later, I am glad that I did because he removes the blindfold from my face, and my black vision is replaced by a dark orange which suggests that I am in a brightly lit room.
    "You may open your eyes now," he says.
    I obey and squint as the light blinds me. It's not artificial light but the evening sun that bathes the room in a bright orange color.
    My eyes need a few moments to adjust, but I soon realize that I am in a canopy bed, my limbs tied to each of the four bedposts. I am surrounded by gauzy white curtains, draped around dark steel. It is surprisingly tasteful. I enjoy the monochrome theme that continues throughout the room.
    The room is about twice as big as my childhood room at my parents' house. The high ceiling is decorated with elaborate stucco and the windows to my right are outlined with thick, wooden window frames painted a warm white color. Apart from the giant canopy bed, the room is sparsely furnished. I can see a dresser at the wall opposite from the bed and a vanity between the windows, both in very dark mahogany wood, matching the hardwood floor. In the middle of the big room, quite far from the bed, there is a small dining table with two chairs opposite of each other, all of it in the same dark mahogany as the rest of the furniture.
    The setting sun is casting warm light through the room like a cozy fire. Hours must have gone by since our session on the boat if the sun is setting.
    I turn around to Leonard, who is standing at the left side of the bed, observing me with a confident smile. He has changed clothes and is now wearing a dark sweater and jeans. It is the first time that I’ve seen him in anything else but a suit.
    "Where am I?" I repeat my question.
    He tilts his head to the side and gives me a loving smile. I would feel flattered if it wasn't for my confinement.
    "I told you, you don't have to worry," he says. "You're safe."
    "That doesn't really answer my question," I argue.
    "Yes, it does," he insists. "And if I were you, I would be careful with that bratty attitude."
    I narrow my eyes.
    "Please," I whisper. "Just tell me that this is still part of the game, so I can enjoy it."
    He chuckles and leans forward to place his hand on my breast, gently squeezing the left first, then the right. His touch is enticing, so sensual. I squirm beneath his hand, wishing for more. His hands feel so good, so warm and strong.
    "If you want to call it a game," he whispers. "Sure."
    What is that supposed to mean? Is he still trying to scare me? I would very much prefer to know that I am not in any real danger, that I can get out of here anytime I want to.
    "What time is it?" I ask randomly.
    "Late afternoon," he replies.
    "How did I get here? I don't remember anything..."
    "I brought you here," he says.
    I frown at him. "Thank you, I think I got that far."
    He raises his eyebrows. "Do you want to be hurt?"
    "No," I hurry to reply. "Sorry."
    Why am I the one apologizing? If anything, he is the one who has to do some explaining.
    "But please," I add. "I don't remember anything. How did we get off the boat?"
    "You slept for a while," he explains. "I had to carry you."
    "When did I fall asleep?"
    "On the boat after I fucked you," he says, petting my head.
    "Did you drug me?" I blurt out.
    He smiles and shakes his head.
    "Sweet girl, you worry too much."
    "So, you did drug me?"
    He doesn't reply, but places himself over me, putting his hands next to my head. He lowers his face above mine, so close that our lips are almost touching.
    His smell is enticing. The soft fabric of his sweater gently caresses my nipples.
    "May I kiss you one more time?" he asks.
    I nod, and he doesn't waste a moment before he presses his lips on mine, his tongue invading my mouth like a hungry beast this time. Faint moans escape my lips mid-kiss. His kiss is loving, gentle and sensual.
    The rope cuts deep