Silent Daughter 2: Bound by Linnea May, Stella Noir Page A

anything but a normal person.
    Leonard is standing next to the bed and scans me from head to toe. I am still completely naked, just as he left me.
    "What's that?" he asks, pointing at my right ankle, where it is clearly visible that I tried to unfasten the rope around it.
    "Are you trying to give me reasons to punish you?" he asks, looking at me with a stern face.
    I reciprocate the look. Asshole.
    We remain in a silent staring contest for a few moments. There is no way for me to read what might be going through his head. He looks angry and concentrated. Does my silence scare him? He might be thinking of letting me go if I prove to be this unwilling to play with him. Or maybe he just contemplates on whether he should let me in on his game.
    "Alright," he finally says. "If that's how you want to do this. Three strokes."
    I look at him with narrow eyes. "Three strokes?"
    He smiles. "I am being gentle with you. Don't take it too far, though."
    He leans forward, and I instinctively flinch when he touches my left ankle.
    "No need to be scared now," he assures me. "You'll eat first."
    "I don't want to eat here. I want to go h — "
    He interrupts me by slapping my thigh hard. I yelp in surprise and pain and try to yank my leg away from him, but I am still restrained.
    "You will eat before it gets cold," he insists. "Too much effort was put into this meal for you to ruin it. Understand?"
    He continues to fiddle with the knot around my ankle. Since he is the one who tied it, he knows how to loosen it a lot better than me. His movements are controlled and unerring, very unlike my attempt earlier.
    I stretch and circle my freed foot while he pushes my ankle down on the sheets.
    He looks at me.
    "I said: Understand?"
    I frown at him and try to lift my leg to kick him, but he is stronger and keeps me pinned down on the sheets with seemingly little effort.
    "You cannot honestly think that I'm still — "
    Another slap on my thigh. I shriek. He hit the inside this time, and it stings like burning hell.
    "Stop it!" I yell. "I won't fucking — "
    He darts forward and grabs me by the throat, pushing me back on the mattress. The collar cuts deep into my skin as he closes his fingers around my throat. I stare up at him in panic as he climbs on top of me, pinning me down with his weight and strength. He lets go of my throat and pins my arms down while controlling my freed leg with his own.
    "Oh, but you will," he hisses. "Listen, Liz. I am patient with you. I know this new for you, and you have a lot to learn. But my tolerance is very, very low when it comes to ruining or wasting food."
    I stare up at him with disbelief. My throat aches where he put his strong hand around it. He kidnapped me, drugged me, tied me up and hits me every time I protest — and he is talking about wasting that goddamn food?
    "You will eat now," he repeats. "And we can talk. Calmly. You won't put up a fight. You won't cause trouble. You will obey and eat like a good girl. Understand?"
    I bite my lower lip and glare up at him.
    "Fuck you."
    "Fair enough," he says and shrugs.
    I am so angry at him, but also so fucking hungry. The food smells incredible, it is almost like torture. I hate being this weak, but the thought of not eating whatever brought that delicious smell into my prison makes my head spin.
    He lets go of my arms and waits for a second to see whether I remain calm. I don't move, laying on my back while he climbs off of the bed and walks around to the other side to untie my left ankle.
    "Get up," he orders, and I comply. I feel weak and dizzy. All those hours on the bed with no food inside of me had taken a toll on my circulatory system.
    I stumble off of the bed like a new born fawn and almost fall when I try to stand.
    He catches me and supports me with his strong arms, a gesture that I would have appreciated a lot more if he wasn't the one who did this to me.
    "Careful there," he warns. His voice is soft now, as though he was talking to a little kid.
    I