“I’m so glad you’re awake,” she told him with a smile.  “I was so worried about you.”

He felt odd.  Something was not right, but he could not quite place it at first.  Several
things were wrong, things that were mostly quite logical but which he could not at first
find a reason for.

“My wrists hurt,” he said, trying to look at them.  The clank of the handcuffs reminded
him that he was locked to the bed.  “Undo these, please.”

“Of course,” she said, quickly unlocking the cuffs.  He rubbed his red and bruised
wrists.

“I’m sore, down there,” he said, a little puzzled.  If he remembered correctly, she had
been sitting on his face when he passed out.

“Oh dear.  Sorry,” she said, hiding her face from him.

“What?”

She did not answer.  “What?” he said more loudly.

“Sorry,” she said again.  “I couldn’t resist it.  You were out of it but your cock was
still hard, so I...  did it.  And as you didn’t do it, and you stayed hard, I did it
again.  Actually I did it quite a few times.  It was very good.”

He flinched as she put her hand on his manhood and examined it.

“Don’t,” he told her.  “It really hurts.”

“I could kiss it better,” she suggested brightly.  “Then we could do it again.”

“No!” he said urgently, as he realised her open mouth had already almost engulfed him. 
The thought of that powerful suction, gripping lips and agile tongue on his painful
manhood at this moment was more than he could cope with.  Even so, he felt himself
responding in an immediate arousal.

“All right,” she said grumpily, raising her head, “But I can see you want it.”

“I need to go,” he told her.  “What’s the time?”

“Six o’clock,” she replied promptly.

“What!  I’ve been here for five hours!  I’ve got to get moving, I have three hundred
miles to drive!”

He sat up and looked round the room.  “Where are my clothes?”

She moved away from him rapidly, suddenly seeming to be nervous.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.  “Where are my clothes?”

“You don’t need them.”

“What do you mean I don’t need them?”  He swung his legs off the bed.  There was a loud
clanking noise, and he was aware of a heavy weight on one of his legs.

“What on earth...?”

She backed further away.

“What’s going on?” he demanded angrily, examining the heavy chain attached to his ankle. 
She had retreated to the doorway.

“You’re not going,” she said quietly.  “I’ll stay out of your way until you calm down and
get used to it, but you’re not going anywhere.”

He tried to free himself from the chain and the heavy manacle locked around his ankle.

“You won’t be able to take it off,” she said.  “It’s much too strong, and even if you had
tools it would still be impossible.  The other end of the chain is welded to the bed
frame.  Don’t worry, the chain is quite long enough for you to go to the bathroom, but you
can’t go any further than that.”

“You’re mad,” he shouted, pulling desperately at the chain.

“Maybe I am,” she agreed.  “I’m just making sure I’m not going to lose another boyfriend.
 You’re staying, and that’s all there is to it.”