Strapped Down

by Nina G. Jones

  “No! No, mom. It’s not Taylor. It’s not anyone. It’s just me and I have dealt with it.”

  “I can’t just take that for an answer.”

  “Yes you can. I am an adult now mom. I’ll be fine. I am actually happy, I feel more alive than I have in a long time. A lot of that has to do with Taylor. You’ll just never understand why I do it. I know it looks horrifying to you, but I’m not trying to hurt myself.”

  Her eyes shift around, as if she has a million thoughts running through her head and is desperately trying to contain them. She then abruptly stands up and marches to the bathroom. After a few seconds I follow her. “Mom? Is everything okay in there?” I ask through the door.

  “Yes , I think I am feeling a little out of it. Hopefully, I didn’t catch anything from you.”

  “Oh no! I would feel so bad.” I expected more of a fight, but her running off like this - seeking refuge in the bathroom - is uncharacteristic of her. She usually pushes and pushes and pushes. It’s why I find myself avoiding her sometimes.

  The doorbell rings and I retrieve the takeout. She emerges silently from the bathroom with a defeated smile on her face and we enjoy Paranormal Activity 2 in her dark apartment. The movie allows us to move on from the tension of our previous conversation. Normally, I don’t get frazzled by even the scariest of movies, but I wonder with my newly developed edgy nerves, if a horror movie was a good idea. Once it’s is over, I look to her, find she is asleep on the couch, and cover her with a throw. As I silently tip toe away, she faintly calls my name.

  “Yes?”

  “You should really think about what you’re doing. This Taylor guy may seem exciting, but all new shiny things do. You may have a chance with Rick again, but if you go too far in with this young man you’re dating, there will be no turning back.” Rick is safe, he is kind, he is stable. This I have always known. But I want the man who makes me feel the exhilaration of teetering off the edge of a cliff.

  “I know mom,” I whisper to assuage her. The truth is, there is already no turning back. There was no turning back the very moment Taylor and I locked eyes in the coffee shop. When Taylor laid his hands on me in the car, I knew that Rick’s touch would never have that effect on me. When he offered me the job, it was an invitation: Leave it all behind, come on this wild ride with me.

  I accepted without looking back.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The drive to the airport is quiet, almost tense. I believe it’s because my mother is upset about the cutting. Despite the visit not going according to plan due to my dengue fever or whatever the hell it was, it was exactly what I needed. I feel lighter, like I am ready to re-enter the world. My god do I miss Taylor; down to my bones. I don’t mean just his physical absence, but there was a distance between him and I before I left. He is in a constant battle of trying to respect my needs versus his strong physical desire to connect with me and make me submit to his sexual desires. And because I won’t open to him fully, because I have cocooned myself, the only way he can avoid the sting of my rejection is to stay away.

  There we were together in his study, as he told me one of the most intimate moments of his life, being ripped away from the woman who saved him, and I return this by shutting him out, telling him I was fine when I wasn’t. Telling him I was his, but then snatching it all away just as abruptly. I imagine in a way for him, he must be like a teenage boy in his first intense relationship: experiencing all of the same confusion, intensity, and insanity. Having to talk to my mother, try to explain to her who this man is, and how he understands me in a way that she never will, reminds me just how incredible our bond is. Taylor never made me feel like a freak for cutting, he gets it, he understands the compulsions. I don’t have to make excuses like I do with everyone else. I don’t have to reassure him it’s not really me like I do with the others.

  And now I am ready. I am ready to swim back to shore after floating adrift.

  “Alright, here we are,” my mother says as she pulls up to the departures area.

  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “That’s what mamas are for!”

  “You should come visit soon. I’ll pay for the ticket.”

  “Oh you don’t need to do that. As soon as work dies down, I will.”

  I give her a kiss and grab my carry on. She steps out of the car to hug me. “Remember what I said to you last night? Make sure you really think about what you are doing. I mean for the long haul. So often the things that seem good in the present may not be the best for us in the longterm.” There she goes again, with her meddling. You’d think she had lived with Rick all these years. “And if things get hard, or if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.” I believe she held hope that the breakup between Rick and me was just a phase, and now she is seeing that it really is over. She credits Rick for “healing” me, but it was never really him, it was always me.

  As I sit in the plane, my anxiousness to see Taylor builds with each minute. It’s like waking up on the other side of that fever has purged me from the fog, I feel strong and clear, ready to take my life back from Eric’s haunting presence. I want to give Taylor everything I have been holding back, let him know that I am his. I must overthrow Eric’s conquest of my body.

  When the plane lands, I am frenzied. Seeing Taylor is now an emergency; it won’t wait another second. We have worked so hard to get him to open up. I won’t abandon him like people have done in the past or let Eric rip me out from his clutches the way Taylor was ripped out of the mystery woman’s arms so many years ago.

  Once the flight attendant gives the signal to disembark from the plane, I hastily rip my carry on from the overhead compartment. It’s stuck enough that when I whip it out, it sends me back onto the belly of a middle-aged man behind me. “Atta girl,” he says. The embarrassment doesn’t stop me from escaping the plane like a caged rabid cat. I do one of those controlled “runs,” not swinging my arms, but moving my legs as fast as they can go, looking like I have a very long stick up my ass as I roll my bag out of the gate. I take a quick glance at a reflective metal panel on the wall. Crap. I kind of rolled out of bed, threw on sweats and made a ponytail. My original plan was to go home as Taylor had to be in the office until mid-afternoon. I roll into one of the airport bathrooms and rummage through my suitcase, attracting the stares of travelers passing me as they enter and exit the lavatory. My makeup bag, perfect! Quickly, I apply some blush, cat-eye eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick. I pull my hair out of the ponytail and shake it vigorously, spraying it with some leave-in conditioner to get out the ponytail bump. This attracts the stank-eye from a teenager next to me, washing her hands at a sink, presumably because I got her in the eye with the spritzing. Too bad kiddo, one day you’ll get it. Next, my outfit. What the hell did I pack? No sexy undies, I was with my mom after all. Instead, I grab a blue midi dress for my unfulfilled plan to go out to a nice dinner with mama-dukes. I dress in a stall, removing all of my underwear. I take a deep breath and fan myself as I emerge. All this vigorous public bathroom makeover shit is making me sweat.

  “You clean up nice, mama,” the bathroom attendant says to me.

  “Uh, thanks!” I reply, nearly out of breath.

  Harrison is waiting for me outside of baggage claim. I apologize for my tardiness.

  “Is Taylor at H.I.?”

  “Yes, I believe his plans where to be there all day until he met up with you.”

  “Okay, take me there directly.”

  “Do you want me to tell him we’re on our —“

  “No. I want to surprise him.”

  I arrive at about 11am, hoping he is not in one of those meetings that required him to be in the office today. The elevator seems to move impossibly slow to the 45th floor. I find Marsha at her usual place in the reception area on my way to see Taylor.

  “Shyla!” she says warmly. She was always one of my favorite people at H.I. One of the
few people I have ever met that is sincerely nice, no bullshit motives behind her enormous kindness.

  “Marsha, so good to see you! Sorry to be in a rush, but is Taylor in his office?”

  “Um, yes, but he’s in a meeting.”

  “Oh. Who’s it with?”

  “Henry.”

  “I’m going in.”

  “Um, I don’t know if I’m supposed to —“

  “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”

  “Oh, on your way out, I have something for you!” She tells me as I charge towards his office.

  I abruptly let myself in through the large cherry doors. Both Henry and Taylor jump in their seats. Taylor stands up. “Shyla, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “We need to talk,” I say as I look out of the corner of my eye at Henry, who I am sort of pissed at again for fucking my best friend.

  “Okay…let’s just…you and I,” Henry awkwardly points to himself and then Taylor. “Okay…yeah…we’ll pick this up later,” he says as he slithers out the side of his chair and closes the door the office behind him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve missed you. A lot.”

  “Well, uh, yeah I’ve missed you too. Is this how you usually act when you’ve missed someone? Like you’re going to kick their ass? Did I miss that memo?”

  I lock the office door and walk over to his desk, resting my hands on the edge. “I need you to fuck me. Here. Now.”

  He is taken aback for a moment, and then I see the “sex switch” flip on. It’s always in his eyes and his sly grin.

  “So you want me to fuck you? That’s what this is about?” He says, calmly walking to the side of the desk as he trails a finger over its edge.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I’ve been distant, but I need you.” I gulp. As soon as he turns it on, I melt into warm pudding and completely lose the dominant sex empress act.

  “I’ve never fucked anyone in here before.” I find that hard to believe.

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything, they say.”

  “They say,” he repeats in a mocking yet seductive tone. “I’ve always wondered who is this mysterious they that people reference?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.” Is he really fucking with me right now?

  “Is there some sort of organization that is the authority on platitudes and philosophy-lite that goes by they?” He inches closer.

  “No, not that I know of. I can google it for you if you’d like.”

  “You’re a smartass,” he says as he pulls me by my waist against his body. He is hard; granite hard. It must be the sexual frustration.

  “I’m gonna fuck you, but you’ll have to be quiet, you know that?” I nod. He pulls up my dress. “Ooh, no underwear, you’re really trying to get fucked. You have your pussy ready and waiting for me, huh?”

  “Uh huh.” He picks me up and seats me on his desk, leaning past me to reach for the speaker.

  “Marsha, reschedule all of my afternoon meetings,” he turns his attention back to me. “I’ll fuck you, but you’re gonna do what I say. Then I’ll reward you with my cock.” I shake my head in jittery agreement. He’s making me pay for making him wait. He rips a cord from his computer and ties my hands behind my back. “You look hot. Sexy as hell. Did you dress up for me?”

  “Yes.”

  Taylor pulls my breasts out over the neckline of the dress leaving them propped up and exposed. He leads me by the restraints and presses me against the glass window of his office. Then he bends down, and while I expect the requisite licking, I am stunned when instead, he bites the back of my thigh so hard I jump and let out a moan. “Shhhh…” After the initial shock wears, a tingling emanates from the spot. He does it again, biting the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, tugging on it for just a moment, then releasing so that the flesh bounces back. The pain is sharp, it hurts like hell for half a second, but then it tingles like a million little explosions. I can’t help but let out a little squeal again. He pulls his tie off, rolls it up and shoves it into my mouth. “No noise, baby.” That is followed by a mix soft kisses and aggressive, teasing bites around my groin and inner thigh. I have no view of Taylor, only the city in front of me, so I don’t know what is next; each one is its own surprise. The sting of the bites complement the softness of the kisses too perfectly. Eventually, Taylor’s tongue works its way up between my legs and he bends me over for easier access, pressing my cheek against the window panel. Unlike the harsh bites, his tongue is gentle. With my face turned, I am able to watch him on his knees from the corner of my eye. His hair is disheveled, his shirt wrinkled with the top few buttons undone, allowing his undershirt to peak out. Something about him taking me in his business attire in his high-rise office makes me so hot, like a queen being taken by her king right on the throne.

  Taylor then stands, reaches over my shoulder and pulls the tie out of my mouth from one end so that it forms a long trail until it slides out completely. He reaches his other arm over my other shoulder so that I can see both hands with my peripheral vision. Simultaneously, he winds each end of the tie in his hands, so that he has a firm grip on it. He wraps it twice onto my neck as if he is about the strangle me, but instead uses it to guide me over to the desk, like a makeshift collar. “Get on your knees on the desk.” As I do, I knock over various folders and way-too-modern desk knick knacks. He presses my face down, and it rests on a manila folder. When I move slightly, I can see the imprint of my lipstick against it. He’ll smile to himself when he sees that later. “I’m gonna savor this. Being inside of you. No one fucks you like I do.” He slides into me and feels so intense from that angle. I try my best to keep my moans low, but with his rock hard erection in this position that is asking too much of me. He moves slowly, rhythmically. Eventually he leaves the tie hanging around my neck and grabs my ass with his hands, roughly kneading each cheek, pulling them apart so forcefully it hurts, but them releasing just before the pain can linger. “One of these days I am going to fuck you right in the ass. Not today, you have to earn that. And you are going to fucking howl like a banshee when I stuff my cock in your tight little asshole.” The dirtier he talks, the more I feel that surge of energy inside of me. He then reaches under and grabs my breasts firmly as he massages each one. “Tell me when you’re about to come.” He slides a hand under me and guides me up, so that my back is touching his chest. He is at a new angle inside of me, forcing my bodyweight to accelerate the inevitable.

  “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come!” I declare. He reaches for each end of the tie wrapped around my neck and yanks relentlessly without missing a thrust. In a second, the tie is cutting off my airway.

  “Come baby, come for me, I’ve got you.” I look forward and see our narrow reflection in the frame of one of his paintings hanging on the office wall. My naked pale breasts, plump and perky, my hair wild and sensual, my arms tied behind me, a dark tie adorning my neck like a choker. Just to behind me is that gorgeous man, with the thick, silky dark hair and eyes that pierce me, even through a reflection. He engulfs me, he devours me, he owns me. From a distance I hear weak gasps for air from a wounded creature, and then I realize it is me. And I fall apart, but more so now than ever before. I release my body, my soul back to him. It shakes me on the surface and deep inside; I quiver and I contract around his cock over and over and over.

  He releases his grasp and I swallow a huge gulp of air. “Get up.”

  “What?” I ask, still in a daze from the orgasm and lack of oxygen.

  “Stand on my desk and face me.”

  “Wha—“ I stop myself from questioning him, I am learning to just let go and trust him.

  As I stand and face him, he swipes an area of the desk just in front of me.

  “Now squat down.” I do so cautiously, as my coordination is not nearly as keen as his, plus I am wearing these fucking stilettos.

  He rolls over his executive chair in front of me and waits. I wait in silence, my thighs burning, knowing that aski
ng him what’s next will ruin the moment. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me.

  And then it happens, his cum begins to drip out of me onto the desk. His eyes narrow as he tugs his lower lip while rubbing his crotch. He walks up to me and says in my ear in a low, raspy voice.

  “Whenever I look at this spot on the desk, I will think of your pussy, dripping wet from me.” Then he kisses me, slowly, sensually.

  Taylor has reclaimed me.

  ***

  I lie on Taylor’s desk for some time to regain my composure. Much like our romp at the racetrack, I believe it’s possible a person or two might have their suspicions about what just occurred in the office and so I delay facing the world outside of this safe room. Taylor pours me a glass of ice water and pulls out a fresh shirt from his back up stash in the office closet.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better. You really had me worried,” he says as he buttons up.

  “I might have been worried myself if I wasn’t sleeping the whole time. I think it’s the stress. In college, I would always get sick right after finals.”

  “I mean even before that.” He adjusts his cuffs. “Well besides that, how was your trip?”

  I don’t want to bore him down with my mother’s meddling, so I omit that part. “It was good. We went shopping, saw a movie…I told her about you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, you don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

  “No, she’s your mother. That’s between you and her.” He takes a drink from his glass. “My father knows about you.”

  “He does?” The thought of him telling his father about me never crossed my mind. “When did you tell him?”

  “When I visited him. To talk about, well, you know. I explained that Eric was bothering you, and that you were very important to me. And that if he knew anything, he needed to tell me right away.”

  “Did he?”

  “My father swears he didn’t know Eric’s whereabouts until he showed up recently. Eric has had a tendency to disappear and reappear in my father’s life since he agreed to leave town years ago. Apparently, he had gone MIA for a little over a year. He said Eric wanted to be back home, he was tired of being away, that that was his reason for coming back. I don’t buy that. I still think he came back specifically to fuck with me. Maybe he was sick of being away, but instead of doing anything to redeem himself, he decided to get back at me for it. Randall, my father, agreed to tell me where he was as long as I promised not to hurt him.”