Walking out the side door, you look up at the sky. It's dark out but you cann't see many stars. The bright city lights prevent it. Only a few very bright ones manage to shine through and can be seen.

Glancing down the driveway, you take in the neighborhood. All familiar. Seen it all a thousand times before. You grew up here. Well, sorta. But you don't want to dwell on that now. You're busy and need to get going or you'll be late.

You turn and head to a motorcycle that sits in the shadows. You can't see it very well and that is the way you like it. Tougher to steal something if you don't know it's there. It's not a large bike but you are happy with it. You saved your money. You searched and read reviews. Asked questions and got opinions. This is an object that you are very proud of. And it's yours. All of it. Not financed like some of those other morons who can't figure out how to save. You bought this outright. With cash. Your cash. And now you're going to take it out for a ride. But first you have to see someone about a place to rent.

The stupid moron wants to meet at night for some reason. Why can't he be like the rest of the world? No big issue. It looked like a good place from the photos and you are excited about seeing it. It's priced right and generally in a good area. The ride to some test facilities will be long and you aren't impressed about that, but it'll have to do.

Absent mindedly, you reach for your keys and...

smack

Lights explode in your mind. Your eyes go funny and you see spots before you. Your chest gets tight and you have a bit of trouble breathing. You start to panic.

smack

You slump forward from the impact and your head bounces off the motorcycle. You end up on the ground in a heap.

The last thing you remember before the dark takes you is a male face and a chuckle.

The fog clears. Slowly. Your head feels thick and it throbs. Painfully. Lights float around your vision and dark fog clouds a lot of what you see making it hard to distinguish.

You raise your head and try to focus. You try to reach your hand up to rub your head, but it won't move. You don't understand why and look to where your body says your hand should be. Incredibly, it appears to be tied in place.

What? How? Damnit. You just can't seem to get your mind around it. It's too foggy still.

You go to try your other hand and it's unresponsive too. Looking at it, you see it's also tied. On a hunch, you check your feet and they are as well.

"Well isn't this a pickle.", you comment to no one.

"Yes it is.", a voice responds.

Your head snaps up and your eyes finally focus on a face you vaguely recognize. You think about it and nothing comes. Where have you seen him before? Try as you might, though, you can't place it.

"What happened? Where am I? Why am I tied up?", you ask.

"All in due time, babe. You'll learn.", he replies. "Now stop asking questions."

"Wa...", is all you are able to get out before his hand lashes out blindingly and pain blossoms in your cheek.

"I said, no questions. What part of that did you not understand?", he says.

"What...", is all you get out before his hands slaps you again.

"Cut that...", SMACK. Your cheek burns as the pain spreads.

Not wanting another, you fall silent. Your questions will have to wait.

"Good. Maybe you've finally learned.", he comments as he turns away and walks across the room.

Taking this opportunity, you look around and see that it looks like you are in a basement somewhere. There are concrete block walls, concrete floor, beam ceiling, wires and pipes running through and over the beams, a furnace in one corner and a set of stairs that will take you up to the next floor. Interestingly enough, you notice that the ceiling is higher than the average basement ceiling is. You're not good with estimating hight, but based on the man with you, you guess it might be about 9 or 10 feet.

You see you are strapped to an apparatus made of metal and wood that holds you upright in a spread eagled position. You can't move your hands or feet, but your head is free to move about. There is a surface behind your head and you suspect that your head can be secured to it as well.

You wear no clothes and despite that fact, you are not cold. In fact, you are pleased to feel that it is rather comfortable.

Looking closer at the man, you see he stands about 6', weighs over 220lbs, has dark hair, glasses and appears to have a limp on one side. He has no discernible scars or markings other than what looks like a tattoo on one arm.

"You will call me 'Sir' and always finish each statement with 'Sir'. Do you understand?", he says to you.

"Yes.", you answer.

"Because you're new, I'll give you a chance to correct yourself. Answer again.", he states.

"Yes, sir.", you reply slowly, hoping not to anger him farther.

He reaches down to a table you hadn't noticed and retrieves what looks like a blade or scissors. He slowly turns around and you catch the glint in his eye. You've seen it before, but the only place you've seen it is gone. Long gone. All you know is that it makes you quiver inside. You're not sure if it's good or bad. It's the same feeling you get when you're about to have some incredible sexual experience, but this is about as far from sex as you've felt. You've been kidnaped, strapped to an apparatus, forced to be subservient AGAIN ... You had gotten away from that. The only man to make you this crazy was your daddy. But you left years ago. You got away. You swore it wouldn't happen again. In over 8 years, it hasn't.

"Daddy?", you whimper.

"You remember. Good. I'm glad I've been remembered.", he sais carefully. "Now lets see what else you recall."

Walking over to you he raises a pair of odd looking scissor like things and begins cutting your clothing off.

"Hey! What the Fuck?!?! That's designer!! Do you know how expensive that shit is?!", you cry angrily.

But it doesn't slow him down. He continues to snip away your clothing. After several minutes, your naked and all your scars and hidden gems are visible.

"Oh god, daddy. Please don't do this. Please ... No...", you whimper as he reaches out his hand and caresses your stomach. So soft. So ... loving. So Wrong.