By which I mean:don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.
A noise that leaves her throat that is practically a purr. She’s trilling.
We’ve barely begun, and she’s already falling into sub-space.
“Christ, I’m going to have fun breaking you.” I tell her. Out of the corner of my vision, I can see movement. Phantom and Ophelia have moved from their spot to watch us. Carver and Ginger have also come upstairs, and they quietly take a seat.
I take the ribbon from my pocket. I slip it around her eyes and tie it around the back of her head. “People are coming in,” I inform her. “They all want to watch you scream. But you’re only going to be focused on me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she says.
“New rule. When you’re at my mercy, you’ll address me assir.”
“Yes, sir,” she corrects.
Fuck. The soft, gentle way she says it makes the word sound like a prayer. I ampainfully hard.
“Face me,” I tell her.
She does. Her nipples are hard knots underneath the black fabric of her bra.
I get started.
There are shackles on either end of the planks. They can slide up and down to adjust and fasten as needed. I move them to match Dove’s height and then lock her into place. I clamp each ankle in. Then I fasten her wrists to the cross. She’s trapped in place, spread out on the X. Exposed to my whims.
“How does that feel?” I ask her.
She tries to move her arms. She can’t—the shackles are too tight. “Good,” she replies.
I crook my finger. Slowly, I graze it down her side. I trace the curve of her body from her breast down to her hip. She shivers and pushes against her restraints, hunting for my touch.
I pet a slow, lazy line over the center of her body. “Will you tell me what you like?”
Her lips thin. She presses them together thoughtfully, then says, “I used to know. Now…I’m not so sure.”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
I remove the box from my back pocket and open it up. A Wartenberg wheel rests in the cushion inside. It’s not unlike the one she used on me the first night we played together—a stainless steel rod with a wheel at the end covered in tiny, pointy spikes.
She can’t see me. She has no idea what’s coming. But she’s twitching with anticipation.
I get off on tormenting her like this.
“Should we play a guessing game?” I ask her. “What do you think I took from the tree?”
“Um.” Her voice is alight with curiosity. “A paddle?”
“I’ll give you a clue. It’s a classic. A tried-and-true favorite.”
“A flogger?”
“I’m going to touch you with it. Do you trust me?”
She nods blindly. “Yes, sir.”
I touch the spike very lightly to the bare skin under her breasts. She’s hyper-sensitive and even the small brush of spikes makes her entire body jerk in place.
“Oh,” she gasps. “It’s sharp.”
