This is a different take on the 'In Service' theme. This is more me and what I feel more comfortable writing. It will probably be to less people's taste. But I hope you like it. Once again; reviews, favourites and follows are always appreciated, muchly. Shenigma x

I drink a lot and I don't want that to change. I also like sex, with different, hot, men, I also don't want that to change. I'd combined the both plenty of times before, safely. My friends didn't understand why I enjoyed living my life like that, they warned me that I better be careful. I always was. I never got hurt. I turned up at work on time, I earned enough to get by. Sure, it wasn't the most satisfying job, but it was a living. Drink and men didn't negatively affect my life, they enhanced it. I wasn't sure what was going on right now, but whatever it was wouldn't deter me. My head felt tight, I hadn't been able to pop a couple of painkillers and jug a pint of water. More unusual than that, I had fallen asleep, sitting propped up against a wall with my hands tied in front of me. Even for me, this was a first. I had done some kinky shit in my time, but abduction was a whole other level.

A little light was seeping through slats in the blinds over a window which was on the right hand side wall of the room I was in. I guessed it was just after sunrise.

"Fuck sake!"

I cursed loudly. That bastard wouldn't be up for ages, he'd had a skinful last night … had he actually though? To me it had looked like he had drank a lot, but from what I remembered of the night he had been in full control of himself. It was his sense of self that had attracted me to him. Kind of. I was initially attracted to his form. He was tall and in good shape. What was sexiest about a man who kept himself toned and trimmed was the self-discipline it required. If he could be that hard on himself, how hard could he be on me? He was alone and usually I avoided loners because nine times out of ten, they're weirdos. I should know, at least once a week I go out alone and my motives are obvious. I know I'm a hypocrite, but now I was trussed up in a place I didn't know, I really wished I had followed my own good advice. To be honest, I felt a bit scared. Last night when I offered him a drink, he seemed nice, for want of a better word. He looked amused at my forthrightness, but he had accepted. What followed had been a fun night and what made him nicest of all, was that he didn't push me into having sex with him. We went back to his place after staying at a bar until closing time. It hadn't been a crazy night, as it was mid-week everywhere was pretty quiet and we could actually hear each other talk. The conversation continued at his, we had a movie on as background noise and had a few more bevvies. We could have had sex, but being treated like a pal was also nice, I honestly didn't feel the need to get my fix. I felt so peaceful that I fell asleep on his couch in his t-shirt.

I growled aloud and smacked the back of my head against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut in exasperation with myself. I should have stuck to the formula. Take them back to mine, have sex, take them home in the morning. However, for once, I didn't want to be the initiator. Reminding myself that hindsight was a beautiful thing, I tried to get off my ass. I was amazed at how difficult it was to get up without the use of my hands, could I seriously not just leap up? Was I that unfit? I quickly gave up and tried to relax, it wasn't like he would leave me here to die. Unless he was psychotic.

"Good morning, Rachel."

The asshole finally made his presence in this apartment known to me. He was wearing a dark blue dressing gown and what could only be described as old man slippers. I thought the dude was sub thirty. He had a steaming mug of coffee in hand and I stared at it, almost drooling, what I would give for coffee right now, I don't know. I had tried to get back to sleep, but it was kind of hard when I was terrified.

"Don't you have anything to say to me, that's not very polite."

He raised his eyebrows as if he was telling me off, but smirked a little because he couldn't even pretend to be serious. This was all highly amusing to him.

"You've tied my hands up and moved me from the couch to here, whilst I was asleep, to the floor in your spare room. I'm not sure what order you did those things in, but it doesn't matter, I'm not okay with it."

He cocked his head to the side as he listened and continued to smile at me.

"Awww, Rachel, did I scare you?"

I laughed, I think a little hysterically, "Yes, any normal person would feel scared!"

He nodded then took a slow sip from his coffee. He took his sweet time before addressing me again, taking a few more sips and still nodding like a bobblehead. He finally sat down on the bed (yes, there was a bed. But I guess if you want to freak the shit out of someone you're not going to tie their hands together, then tuck them into bed).

"Scared in the way you like."

"What?" I snapped back at him.

"Last night we had a very entertaining chat about what you like, what you don't like. You're a fucking dirty little whore, aren't you?"

His cool, blue eyes glinted with joy. I was slow to reply, thinking about what I'd said. I didn't know if this was dirty talk or if that's what he really thought of me.

"We were just talking," I said, quietly.

"Yes, we were just talking. You talked a lot of crap, but some truth always comes out with the crap too."

"So you think you've fulfilled one of my fantasies. That's awesome. I'm glad I can tick unlawful imprisonment off my list. But I really need a piss now and I'd like to go home and enjoy the remainder of the rest of my day off."

My words sounded tough but truth be told, my heart was still racing. He was showing no sign of wanting to get me out of this bind any time soon.

"You have quite a mouth on you. I liked that last night, but I know it will wear thin very soon."

He got up and sashayed over to me, then crouched down in front of me, stopping his face close to mine, only a couple of inches away. At this distance I could smell booze, cigarettes, coffee, sweat and aftershave on him. It was an oddly intoxicating mix. I tried to convince myself that it only smelt good because I was attracted to him and that the attraction would soon fade as he was clearly fucking nuts.

"You're not going anywhere because you don't really want to. There's nothing for you back home. But you could have everything you've always wanted, right here."

I searched those blue eyes for insincerity, but I couldn't find any.

"With you? I don't want a relationship and this isn't the right way to go about relationships. If you keep doing this, then maybe that's why you're single."

He laughed breathily, "actually, this is the first time I've done this."

He took another sip of his coffee that seemed to be endless and looked over the top of his mug at me while awaiting my answer.

"And hopefully your last," was all I could come up with.

"I intend it to be. I'm going to be straight with you. Last night, I was just having a drink on my own. No agenda. Nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes I pull, sometimes I don't. I don't care. I had no intention of hooking up with you, but when you started telling me about your life and your fucked up fantasies, you brought out the worst in me. I'd like to fuck you. I want to fuck you up. I know you'd like that to. And bitch, even if you wouldn't, there's not a goddamn fucking thing you can do about it."

He smirked at the end of his proposal, no doubt knowing that a part of me agreed with him. I mulled it over, seriously, in my head. This would be the pinnacle of my fantasies. This was as exhilarating as I had imagined it would be, I just never realised it would be this scary too.

"What about work?" I said, weakly.

"Quit your job. I'll pay you. You know I'm good for it."

"I don't. You could have been bullshitting last night."

He told me he was a member of The Shield. I'd heard of them, they were mercenaries of The Authority who were in government now. I think they even helped them with the coup. If I was being honest with myself, it sounded like total bullshit, but he looked so damn good and sounded so real, I wanted to believe him. Power and violence was sexy. I wasn't ashamed to admit the truth.

"I'll prove to you I wasn't," he said, then put his coffee aside and took a hold of my bound wrists.

His grip was warm and firm. His hands were so big they easily encircled my wrists and I suddenly felt a ridiculous urge to kiss them. I was a sucker for beautiful man hands.

"But first, you need to be punished," he said, giving me a look of mock resignation before bending his head over my wrists to untie them.

"What for?" I immediately asked.

As a kinky girl, just hearing the P word made my pussy clench, especially when it was said in his low, gravelly voice. He snorted with laughter.

"Look at you. Getting excited at the thought of being punished."

He purposefully put emphasis on the word to mock me.

"I'm going to give you a choice. You can submit to your punishment now and I promise I will punish you, severely. You will cry it off, but stay and ultimately feel better for it. That process will continue until I mould you into my perfect toy. Or I will let you go right now, without punishment. Because why would I waste any more time on you if I'm not going to benefit from it?"