Page 89 of Don't Leave Me

“Give me your phone and laptop. I’m restricting you from them for 24 hours,” he ordered, holding out his hand.

My mouth flew wide open. “Really?” I scoffed, my attitude and disbelief coming off very clearly.

“Hana, don’t question me. And don’t make me repeat myself,” he said sternly, still holding out his hand.

I scoffed again and took my phone out of my sweater pocket and handed it to him, then went to the desk across the living room and unplugged my Macbook. I walked back to him and handed that to him as well.

He grinned at me and raised his eyebrows. “Why am I doing this, Hana?” he questioned.

“Because I went through your things without your permission,” I answered, holding back any sass I wanted to give him.

“Good,” he held his head up and then walked down the hall into the bedroom with my phone and Macbook, I assumed to hide them from me.

I sighed and sat down on the couch, pouting. I agreed to this why? He’s right though – I did snoop without his permission. I gave him all the permission he wanted to snoop through my shit; well, not my journal, but I guess that was warranted.Alright, I can do this. I just want to make him happy.

Michael walked back out into the living room as I began to take off my sweater and leggings, my 3-mile jog giving me a slight foul odor, but I knew I could seduce Michael this way. He watched me as I kicked off my socks, the only thing covering my bare body now just underwear and a sports bra.

“Why don’t you want me to call you daddy?” I asked curiously, my voice low and husky.

Michael began to shrug off his sweater as he eyed me, grinning to himself.

“I don’t want that anymore. I want you to call me sir,” he raised his eyebrows, licking his lower lip.

I smiled. “Yes, sir,” I responded, sliding off the couch and onto the floor on my knees in front of him.

He finally bit his lower lip and slid off his white t-shirt over his head.

“Take off your bra and underwear and stay right there on your knees. Hands on your thighs,” he ordered and quickly disappeared into the bedroom.

I felt myself bouncing up and down with anticipation as I removed my extra clothing. Soon enough, he came out with my new black leather paddle in his hand and black rope in the other. My heart started to race –this is what I really want.

“Face the couch, on your knees, elbows flat on the couch,” Michael demanded, undoing the rope.

Without hesitation I did as he said, then Michael grabbed my wrists and started to tie them together in an elaborate formation with the rope. When he was done, I felt him tug at my hair, forcing my head back quickly and I suddenly felt the paddle lightly tap my left ass check. Even though it wasn’t painful, I still jumped at the surprise. A second later, there was another tap, but harder this time.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” I moaned out quickly.

Another hard tap smacked across my ass; I involuntarily whimpered – it hurt.

I suddenly felt Michael grab my tied-up wrists and hold them above my head, turning me around and standing up. He tossed me on the couch, ass first, and rested my tied-up hands against my belly.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, then disappeared again.

I wiggled on the couch, my energy and imagination going wild. Michael soon came out with one of my favorites: a spreader bar. He lifted my feet up onto the couch and positioned the bar onto my ankles, restraining them with the leather cuffs on each end, rendering me completely vulnerable. He stared as he stood up and backed away a little bit, taking in the view like a real pervert, my pervert. And being the pervert that I was as well, I was already wet.

Michael picked up the leather paddle that was laying on the coffee table and tapped it with his hand as he continued to observe me, pacing the space in front of me.

“Do you remember your safe words?” he asked sternly.

My heart started to race even faster.What is he gonna do with me?

“Yes, sir,” I nodded.

“Tell me,” he quickly responded.

“Yellow means I’m close to my limit. Red means stop immediately,” I answered, nearly out of breath already.

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