Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I come alive when we enter, when I gaze at the scenes before us.
“Take it all in, Skye,” Braden whispers in my ear. “See. Hear. Learn.”
I take the lead as we walk around the room. I don’t recognize any of the faces, but then I wasn’t looking at faces last time. I was looking at the scenes themselves, the bondage.
Tonight’s are similar yet different. Some couples are having sex, others aren’t.
The knots in the different colors of rope ensnare me. All so beautiful, some simple, some intricate.
Until one scene totally captivates my attention.
A woman stands, her arms over her head, tied at her wrists, and attached to a pole. She’s bound around her waist and breasts, with only her nipples showing. They’re plump and taut, and though I’ve never been interested in women, I wonder what they might feel like against my tongue.
The thought is fleeting, though, because as I rake my gaze upward, I see what makes me quiver even more.
She’s bound around her neck, her Dominant holding a chain that’s linked to the makeshift collar.
He pulls on it lightly, and she gasps.
Again.
Then again.
Each time she gasps, her cheeks slightly redden.
Then he flogs her bare ass with… I’m not sure what it is. It looks like a ping-pong paddle.
Her ass turns pink, and those nipples, if possible, protrude even farther.
What about this scene speaks to me?
I don’t know, but I want to be that woman, and I want Braden to be that man.
This is why I wanted to return to New York. To play out this scene.
“Seen enough?” Braden whispers.
I nod. “Can we go to your suite now?” I whisper.
“Absolutely,” he growls.
He leads me out of the bondage room and down the hall, where he enters his code. Once again, we’re in his private suite. In one corner stands a pole, something I didn’t pay much attention to last time.
This time? I notice.
“Braden?”
“Yes?”
“Can you bind me to that pole? Like the woman we just saw?”
“My knotting is a little different, but yes, I can accommodate you.” He unzips my bustier, and it falls to the floor. My breasts are swollen and my nipples already hard and ready.
He pinches one. “Gorgeous.”
I tremble, the sensation surging to my pussy. I’m so wet, I must be dribbling down my thighs.
“What about that scene enticed you, Skye?”
I know the answer, but I’m not ready to tell him just yet. “All of it,” I say.
He slaps one of my breasts lightly. “Be more specific.”
“Her nipples,” I say.
“What about them?”
“How her boobs were bound but her nipples were free. They were so tight and hard.”
A low groan rumbles from his throat. “And you liked that?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“Her ass. All red after he paddled her.”
Another groan. “Yes. Very nice.” He peels my skirt from me and turns me around. “Your ass is prettier than hers. It will be even more beautiful when I make it red.” He rips the thong from me so I’m standing only in fishnets and my platform stilettos.
He trails his fingers over the cheeks of my ass. “Is tonight the night?” he asks.
He wants to fuck me there. I’ve been so enthralled by the bondage that I forgot. The idea intrigues me, but what I really want is—
“Answer me,” he commands.
“If you want it to be.”
He doesn’t reply right away. He’s displeased with my answer. He wanted me to be as excited about the prospect as he is.
I’m intrigued but not excited. What excites me is being bound for his pleasure.
And if I’m bound for his pleasure…
“Yes,” I say, much more adamantly this time. “Tonight is the night.”
This time, his gaze darkens. “Good. Perfect.” He turns toward one of the cupboards and opens it. He returns with a bottle of lubricant and a stainless steel anal plug. “I should have made you wear this all day. Hindsight.” He lubes up my asshole and gently inserts the plug.
I gasp at the intrusion, but once it’s inside, my rim relaxes.
“Tell me,” he says, “how you’d like me to bind you.”
“Like the woman in the last scene we saw.”
He nods and gathers rope from one of the chests. Black this time instead of the dark red. Does the color have significance to him? To me it symbolizes darkness, the underground. I’m following him under this time.
And I can’t wait.
“Kneel before me,” he commands.
I drop.
“Raise your hands above your head.”
I do as he asks, and he binds my wrists tightly with the rope. I wish I could see him work the knots.
“Now, stand.”
I rise, resisting the urge to squirm against the invasion of the butt plug.
He leads me to the pole, where he attaches me with what appear to be carabiner hooks and leather straps. I’m not suspended, but I’m nearly immobile, as moving my feet backward will cause me to stretch to an uncomfortable position.
“Now, face me.”