By ty dehner
As I struggle with the hood, it is quickly laced tight and the zipper is pulled down over the laces. My hands are pulled behind my back as I realize that Jonas must have gotten out of the chair. The hood has a strong leather smell as it is snug on my face. Handcuffs are slapped on my wrists, and they aren’t gentle about it. The zipper at the front of the hood is opened, and I learn that this is one of the layered hoods.
Jonas is smiling at me.
“Get on your knees.”
I struggle, as my hands are cuffed behind my back, and get on my knees on the concrete floor. I look up at him, and he just stands before me allowing me to take in how amazing and powerful he looks in his leather uniform. After a few moments, his gloved hand grabs the zip of the hood and closes it, putting me into a leather solitary. I hear their boots leave the room, and I am left alone again.
For a little while I can take kneeling, but over time my knees get sore on the hard floor. I work to relieve pressure on one knee, but it adds pressure to the other. Then I adjust the other way. I spend my time moving back and forth trying to manage the pain that is increasing. I think about sitting or getting in the chair, but I’m certain that would not go over well and I would be punished. I haven’t done anything to be punished so far and am not going to start now.
