Page 4 of Sire: On Your Knees

Kicking my leg over my bike, I removed my helmet and placed it on the seat of my all-black Harley-Davidson night rod special. In slow strides, I made my way to the back stairwell that led down to the basement of the abandoned house we kept in the woods for things like holding a beautiful woman hostage. Having just left from checking on my brother, it required effort to silence the murderous thoughts that wanted to consume me. I wanted somebody to die.

I took the stairs down to the rickety wooden door, then snatched it open. Since it was early spring, the temperature in the basement dropped with the sun. I could see my breath every time I exhaled. Having been down here for two days, it smelled of feces, piss and fear. I inhaled deeply, enjoying every potent and pungent note of her odor. My captor was lying on the concrete floor, shivering as I approached her.

Without saying a word, I snatched her up by her arm and began untying her. I returned her blindfold so she couldn't see where we were going next. She didn't have the strength to fight against me after days of fasting. I needed her to know this wasn't a game. I was being merciful by allowing her to come to work for me, but if she played, I would put an end to this. Anyone who went against my family and me was an enemy of mine, so she'dbetter play it safe. I was a loose cannon on my best days, so it was wise not to detonate the monster in me.

"Let's go," I mumbled while dragging her behind me.

"Ow, you're hurting me," she whined in a soft voice.

"Good." I pushed her in front of me then out the door.

It took her forever to walk to the top of the steps even though she was holding on to the railing. The entire time I was behind her, I tried not to be amazed by her wide hips and fat ass. Even though she smelled terrible, her perfect body was hard to ignore.

Finally, she made it to the top. I pushed her toward the waiting blacked-out Eskimo truck. I opened the back passenger door for her and pointed at the towels on the seat before remembering she couldn't see them. "You sit only on the towels. You smell like shit."

She flinched before climbing up on the seat and plopping down. When she turned her head toward me, her dried-out lips frowned. "Considering you didn't leave me with the essentials needed to handle my hygiene properly, I would assume you like the smell of shit."

"Ha. Sit back and shut up." I slammed the door in her face when I saw her lips part again. Wasn't shit else for her to say to me.

I patted the side of the truck, and Ernesto took off. Walking to my bike, I tossed my helmet on then followed behind them. We raced through the city and headed toward my penthouse at The Mallory.

When we arrived, we entered through my private parking garage, which led to the private elevator. I ignored her while we rode up to the twentieth floor. I didn't take the blindfold off until we were standing in my large and open living room. She gasped when she saw the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows that highlighted the most beautiful view of the city's skyline.

Walking in front of her to block her view, I noticed the throb of her throat as she gulped. She cast her eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. Her posture was very stiff and closed off, which was expected. In no rush to speak, I took the time to really look at her.

Since she still wasn't wearing a shirt, I noticed her full breasts being properly displayed by her bra. Her skin was a pretty milk chocolate color. Thin eyebrows sat on top of her almond-shaped brown eyes, which remained on the floor. I liked the shape of her full lips and her small gap. They were probably soft on a good day. Her pixie cut fit her round face with chunky cheeks that made her look bigger than her curvy body actually was. She was of average height but still shorter than me, so I looked down at her.

"What's your name?" I finally asked, realizing I was getting too distracted by what I saw.

"Noonie," she replied softly.

"Your real name..."

She sighed heavily. "Knovah Anderson."

I began pacing in front of her. "Okay,Knovah Anderson,here are the house rules. You are to clean every inch of this space every day. You will cook whenever I want you to. In the evenings, you will report to Pleasures, and you will do whatever you're told." Walking closer to her, I added, "And I do mean whatever. You are not allowed in any common area of the penthouse unless I say so, and you only enter my bedroom to clean it. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Knovah's head lifted until her eyes met mine. Ruffling her hair, she nodded once before dropping her chin back to her chest. In that moment, I could tell what was on her mind... escape. I smiled, knowing there was no getting out of this. She was my prisoner, and that was the end of it.

"I'm going to get some work done in my home office. I will show you to your bedroom, and I suggest you take a shower."

Her right hand eased up her arm until she gripped her left elbow. "What about clothes, soap, or food?"

"I will provide you with whatever you need." Looking her up and down, I added, "I might feed you depending on how well you scrub your skin in the shower." Her top lip twitched only a smidgen.Humph...she had a little fire to her. I liked that.

Pivoting quickly, I moved toward the hallway that led to the three bedrooms and my home office. On the roof, I had a personal gym, pool, and lounge area to relax. I debated on giving her a tour and figured at some point I would. For now, I needed her to wash that filth off her. It was starting to make my eyes water.

I entered the first guest room on the right and walked straight to the bathroom. Flipping on the light switch, I showed Knovah where the hygiene products were, then I turned to leave her alone. Like I said, I went into my home office to get some work done. But first, I pulled up a live feed of the cameras I had throughout the penthouse.

I smiled, watching as she ditched the bathroom and crept to the bedroom door. Leaning back in my seat, I prepared to enjoy the show. She placed her hand on the door handle and waited. When she felt the coast was clear, she slowly eased it open and poked her head out in the hallway. She glanced both ways before booking it toward the elevator. Kicking my feet up on my desk, I shook my head in amusement.

Knovah jabbed the button for the elevator. At first, it didn't open, but to make things a little more interesting, I used the manual button on my phone to allow her access. She dashed inside and anxiously waited for the doors to slide closed. After pressing the button for the garage, she waited. Unfortunately for her, the elevator didn't move.

It brought me great satisfaction when she realized she was trapped inside. She began banging on the door, screaming for help, which I could hear, but I ignored her by exiting the feed and going into the files my accountant sent over to go over the club's profit for the month.

I left Knovah in the elevator well into the evening. The sun had gone down by the time I decided to save her from her misery, which served her well for trying to escape. When I said I owned her, I meant it. Standing in front of the elevator doors, I sported a scowl when the doors slid open to expose her sitting on the floor. Her forehead was on her knees as she softly whimpered.

Stepping onto the elevator with her, I crouched down in front of her. Placing a finger beneath her chin, I forced her head up. "I told you I own you, Knovah. The elevator doors only open for approved visitors, and you are not an approved visitor. You are my prisoner. Do you understand?" Her bottom lip trembled as all the color drained from her pretty face. She tried to nod, but I demanded she use her voice. "Speak."

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