Chapter 150 Anonymous Lover:>>10

• She was out cold. Under her lids her eyes were slightly dilated, but her pulse was strong. I slipped my arms under her and picked her up, carrying her gently into the spare room where the mattress I had bought was on the floor next to the old radiator. I put her down carefully, slipped an athletic sweatband around her wrist and then fastened the handcuff over it, making sure that it was secure but not too tight. The other end was already around the radiator pipe where it emerged from the floorboard. She moaned and stirred briefly, but then settled back. Next to the bed I'd left the essentials she would need: a jug of water and a glass; some food, a piss-pot and a roll of toilet paper. The only illumination was from the small nightlight plugged into the wall socket, for I had covered the high window so that no light could penetrate from outside. Silence pervaded the room, with the thick old walls shielding any sounds from outside.
• Satisfied, I locked her in the room and went to catch a few hours of sleep, for I knew that later today I was going to be busy and I would need my wits about me. As I lay in bed I reflected on the list of indictable offences I could now be charged with - kidnapping, perhaps; certainly unlawful imprisonment. For a moment I wondered why I didn't just let her go and never see her again, but I knew that would never resolve the nagging worm of desire buried somewhere deep inside my brain. Despite all that had occurred I wanted to roll the clock back to the first night I had fucked her, but this time without those silly masks. I wanted to hear her cry out my name as I pumped my sperm into her slim body. I wanted her to want me, but it had to be consensual - only then would she would be the one filled with longing and I would be the one in control. And after I had had my fill of her I would decide whether to cast her aside, or not.
• The morning dawned dark and heavy, with an unseasonable chill to the air. Strong gusts of wind buffeted the house, the old roof trusses creaking and groaning in protest. A dark day for dark business, I thought, and I turned over and drifted back to sleep.