The Barman

She walked into the bar and sat on one of the stools just like she had done every day that week but tonight felt different, there was something in the air that felt electric to her and she could feel it prickling her skin all over her body, even the covered parts...or maybe especially the covered parts.

The new bar man glanced up at her and smiled, it was the same smile he gave every customer and most would see it as just a friendly gesture but she knew better, she could see through the polite pleasantry and see the wickedness beneath the facade. 

He'd admitted it to her the previous night as they'd shared a drink after closing. She was many drinks ahead of him and so felt comfortable sharing her lust for him but shocked herself by telling him about her darker, more deeply held desires to be the play thing of a cruel sadist. Even now she was unsure why she'd laid her deepest secrets out to this virtual stranger who'd only been in town a few days but maybe it was because she knew he was a kindred spirit, the other side of her coin.

He was something she had never expected to find, especially not in her small town with it's abundance of normality and it's strong religious morality. She had never felt at home there with the tornado of depravity constantly swirling around her mind but had been unable to escape the bondage of her upbringing and surroundings.

His sober admission had been vague as he'd rebuked her, warned her that saying you want that is one thing but that the reality of what he would do to her was beyond her fantasies, beyond what she could even dare to imagine. He'd virtually thrown her out of the bar and told her not to come back, but here she was.

She hadn't listened and now that smile of his was filled with a mix of regret, lust and deviousness that excited and terrified her in equal measure. He finished serving his customer and stepped in front of her,

"You're back" he breathed,

"I am" she replied as confidently as she could muster,

"You'll regret it" he said and she could see the red mist burning behind his eyes.

She pursed her lips, composing herself as her heart beat loudly in her chest,

"I hope so" she replied.

He busied himself preparing a drink and as he placed the tall glass filled with ice and clear liquid in front of her he said, "So be it" and then moved away.

The drink had been nothing more adventurous than water, apparently there would be no more dutch courage for her, she'd need the real thing instead. Barely a word passed between them as the night progressed but on returning from the bathroom she noticed that an old fashioned pair of metal handcuffs now hung from the neck of one of bottles behind the bar. As soon as her eyes caught sight of them she felt it between her legs, that elusive sensation that she'd rarely felt without extensive searches into the dark depraved depths of the internet.

There was also a fresh drink waiting for her, this time a plump strawberry floated in the drink skewered by a little, neon green, plastic sword. She smiled, this was not after all the most sophisticated bar even in this sleepy town. The strawberry tasted delicious in stark contrast to the bland water it accompanied but she dutifully drank and inevitably visited the bathroom once more.

This time when she returned her glass contained crushed ice and floating at the bottom was a very macerated raspberry. In fact it looked like it had been macerated to within an inch of it's life! She took a sip and as she tilted her glass she glanced again towards the handcuffs hanging from the bottle barely a metre from her, they were no longer alone. Just in front of the bottle an old rusty hammer sat on it's metal head, it's wooden handle sticking lewdly (to her mind) up and laying next to it were two big, silver, nails.

Her whole body flushed and she instinctively looked over to him, his smile was gone as he mouthed "Last chance" and then rang the bell for last orders at the bar. She stayed on the stool as the bar gradually emptied, her nervousness growing more palpable with every person that left until eventually he waved goodbye to the last patron and came to stand before her, only the bar separating them.

He looked at her for a long moment and she felt a little like a child again almost breaking under his intense gaze but she wasn't the first to look away, he turned and took a martini glass from above the bar and lowered it to his waist. She watch him deftly remove his penis but he turned and she only briefly caught a glimpse of the dark chocolate skin along it's length before his back was turned and the quiet room filled with the gentle tinkle of liquid slowly pouring into a glass.

He rested the glass on the bench at the back of the bar while he resituated himself and then took an olive on a cocktail stick out of an empty, used glass and added it to the drink. She'd seen the drinks owner suck on it seductively whilst looking at the bar man earlier but then discard it when he'd ignored her. Turning with the glass in hand he made eye contact with his last remaining customer and spat into the glass before placing it in front of her,

"If you're staying, you need a drink, this is a bar after all".

She glanced down at the drink, the olive had sunken to the bottom and the spit was floating on the top of the clear but clearly yellow liquid. She cupped her hand around it as people do with a martini glass and felt the uncharacteristic warmth of the drink, she lifted it to her lips and took a long slow sip letting it fill her mouth before swallowing it. The taste was bitter and sour, similar to her own which she'd tasted multiple times but still somewhat different, stronger. She held up the glass to him managing half a smile and said "cheers" before taking another sip.

She watched the shadow of a smile cross his lips as he turned and walked from behind the bar and began to upturn the chairs and stools placing them on the tables while she continued to consume her distasteful drink in silence, sipping it like a fine cocktail. She tried to maintain her composure and despite every fibre of her being needing to turn and watch him instead she focused on her task, consuming his urine.

She barely saw him move but suddenly he was behind her and her head was being yanked back by her hair to the point she almost fell from her stool. The speed and brutality of it shocked her for a moment and she felt genuine fear as he deftly linked his free arm between hers and her back immediately disabling her, he was clearly much stronger than her and any struggle would have been futile even if she'd tried.

He pulled her off the stool and easily pinned her against an adjacent wall with his knee against her stomach and pelvis freeing his hands to fasten the old handcuffs, that he'd clearly retrieved from the bottle they'd resided on earlier without her noticing, onto her wrists. She bit her lower lip as she watched him fasten her into bondage barely noticing the pain from his knee. As soon as he was done he gripped the cuffs and pulled her roughly into the middle of a more open area of the bar and easily lifted her off her feet and hooked the cuffs over a hook in the ceiling before letting her back down.

She gasped as the cuffs dug into her wrists taking her entire weight as she hung from them completely unable to do anything about it. Before she could find any words he grabbed a bar towel and shoved it into her mouth using a thumb to push it deep enough that she couldn't work it out of her mouth without her hands, despite her dire situation she couldn't help but think "he's done that before" and feel a twinge of excitement from that.

She also got a thrill seeing the bulge in his jeans as he walked away from her, collecting stray glasses and rubbish as he went and began to stack them into a dishwasher behind the bar. She could do nothing but hang limply and watch him work and as the minutes ticked by the pain in her wrists extended down her arms, through her elbows and into her shoulders. She tried to adjust herself but while she kept physically fit and fairly supple she lacked upper body strength and lifting herself by her already painful wrists wasn't even remotely possible.

After thirty seven minutes tears streaked makeup down her face, she was determined but the pain was intense and at some point the tears had begun to flow despite her willing them not to. He finished clearing up and returned to stand in front of her, he stood for minutes just watching her hang there and she could see the outline of him growing in his tight jeans. Hope began to reignite in her, she had survived his test. He reach out an arm quickly and before she knew it he was running two fingers firmly over the thin lace of her underwear, her damp underwear, before bringing his fingers to his nose and inhaling, she blushed.

Eventually he said "If you continue down this path you will regret it. I am not a man with whom a woman should choose to play. I will destroy you for my own enjoyment and when I am bored of you I will replace you without a second thought.",

She looked him in the eye and nodded her head, he lowered his own head and sighed as if he was accepting some terrible truth, then he reached up and pulled the towel from her mouth,

"Very well" he said, then he turned and walked to a door, opened it, switched off the light and left.

She starred at the black space where the door had been before she was cast into darkness, her heart began to race and the tears began to pour rather than flow.