Before she could turn around, he pulled the cloth hood down over her head. She elbowed him in the ribs and reached up to try to take off the hood, but he pushed her face-down onto the bed and secured her wrists behind her back with a short length of nylon cord.Her instructions clearly stated that she would put up a realistic struggle, so he was ready when she started bucking and kicking violently. He sat on her back, using his weight to pin her on her stomach. Working as efficiently as possible, he used longer lengths of cord to bind her ankles to her upper thighs, forcing her knees to remain bent. She kicked back at him a few times, loosening the cords before they were secured, but he kept at it and finally managed to get everything tight. Then he untied her wrists and retied each one to one of her ankles, leaving her in a kneeling position with her face pressed into the bed and her ass in the air. She was completely helpless now, and he could relax a little.Being careful to remain. You like it?” “Uh-huh.” He turned the key and it roared to life and jumped away from the curb, sending another thrill through her. They went to a Greek restaurant in a strip mall not far from the diner. She had never eaten there, but he told her it was one of his favorites places. “Next to your diner, of course.” They had salad, lamb, Greek potatoes baked in tomato sauce, green beans saturated with garlic speckled with toasted almonds. She had two glasses of red wine, Mark only one. They had strong coffee with baklava. Everything tasted good, she ate it all, and enjoyed the way that could talk without awkwardness. “I saw right away this morning that you had something on your mind,” Mark said as he sawed through a piece of baklava. It crumbled and stuck to his fork. “What is it?” “I’m over it now,” she lied. She couldn’t get the damn tattoo off her mind. “No you’re not.” He finished his coffee. “I’ve been seeing you almost every day, and you never seemed preoccupied before. She knew.
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