by Sadie Grey
“I trust you,” he said finally. “Tell me what to do.”
***
Dominic was strapped to the metal rack where Gillian had been suspended earlier in the day. He was still wearing his crisp white shirt and dark slacks. For a man restrained, he still maintained an air of command about him. He watched me proudly. Unbroken and unbent. I had to do something about that.
I had gone through the outfits I had worn throughout the day and chosen bits and pieces to wear. I could have worn anything or nothing, but I needed to look the part if I wanted to act the part. The black leather corset with the shiny silver buckles hugged my torso. It held my shoulders back and my breasts out.
It made me feel regal and alluring, like a sexy warrior queen of days long past. The black silk thong clung to my hips, hinting at the pleasures beneath without revealing them completely. Lastly, I wore tall stiletto heels that added a few inches to my height which brought me eye level to Dominic in his bound position.
I stood a few feet away from him, our eyes locked, each of us sizing the other up. There was laughter in his blue eyes and a slight smirk twisting his beautiful lips. He looked intrigued and amused, like he wasn’t taking me seriously. He watched me almost like you’d watch a child who was pretending to act like a grown up. He would find out soon enough that I wasn’t pretending.
The table of sex toys and other devices still sat beside the rack, offering up endless possibilities for pleasure and pain. I would get to them soon, but first I was going to use something altogether more ordinary. I had grabbed them from Dominic’s studio before I had tethered him to the rack. I ran my fingers over a pair of steel scissors that glimmered menacingly in the stark glare of the spotlight.
I snatched the scissors from the table and brandished them in front of Dominic’s face. He looked at them hesitantly, and for the first time, his sure smile faltered just a fraction. A wave of satisfaction swept over me.
I pressed the pointed steel tip to his stubbly cheek, pressing just hard enough to dimple the skin but not hard enough to actually hurt him. His eyes blinked in fear and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. I grinned evilly and slid the scissors down his skin. I let the blade linger at his throat. A thin sheen of sweat blossomed on his forehead.
With my free hand, I yanked his expensive shirt by the lapel and twisted it, pulling it taut around his neck. Starting at the collar, I sliced into the fine fabric of his shirt. The scissors cut easily down the shirtfront, revealing a widening line of his perfect flesh. I cut about halfway down and then ripped his shirt open the rest of the way.
I looked into his eyes to gauge his reaction. He grinned at me again, but the confidence no longer lit that smile. It was the expression of a man trying to convince himself that he was not afraid. It was better, but he wasn’t quite ready yet.
I circled behind him and sliced open the back of his shirt. It hung like wilted angel wings on either side of his powerful back. I ran my fingernails lightly down his skin, unable to restrain myself from touching him. The sensation elicited a satisfying tremor from him.
I attacked his pants next, shearing them from his legs in quick, efficient movements until only shreds remained clinging to his waist like a caveman’s loin cloth.
I crossed back in front of him and drank in the sight of him. He looked like a raggedy version of the powerful man I had met this morning when I first arrived at his studio. The polish was gone from his appearance, and he reminded me more of the man I’d met at the art class. Wild. Primal. Savage.
I made short work of his sleeves and what remained of his pants and boxers so that he stood naked and vulnerable before me. Stripped of his clothing, the chiseled lines of his muscles stood out sharply in the harsh glare of the light. His swagger was gone along with any traces of humor, but his eyes still burned with a fierce intensity. They stared at me with a silent but unmistakable challenge. They said, “I can’t be broken.”
I turned back to the table and searched for something that could.
Chapter 21
Of all the wicked looking things on the table, I chose a black silk glove.
It was smooth and sleek, and it glided onto my hand like it had been dipped in lotion. I could have chosen a whip or a riding crop or any of the other implements of pain, but Dominic had proven to me earlier that pleasure could be more effective than pain when it came to getting someone to surrender.
I wanted him to surrender to me. I needed to find out the truth about a few things, but I couldn’t just come out and ask him. A slow approach would be my best bet.
I turned to face him.
He spotted the glove and raised an eyebrow at me. “Interesting choice. Are you sure you know how this works?”
I ignored his jibe. “From here on out, I am in charge.” I stroked his face with my gloved hand. “You are under my control.”
He continued to look at me with a bemused grin. I grabbed his nipple with my bare hand and pinched it hard between my fingers. His jaw tensed up, but otherwise, he refused to let me see him in pain.
“Is that understood?” I asked, still applying pressure with my fingers.
“Yes,” he said begrudgingly.
“Excellent.”
I released him from my grip. I started pacing back and forth in front of him. “You ran me through the gauntlet today, and now it’s your turn. So tell me, do you enjoy the feeling of being bound?”
“Not particularly,” he said. “I like being able to use my hands.”
I nodded. “That’s because you like being in control all the time.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. You spent all day criticizing me for always wanting to be in control. I suppose you weren’t wrong, but have you ever stopped to consider that you also have control issues?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
“You orchestrated this whole day with scenarios where you would be in complete control of the situation. Where you would be in complete control of me. Doesn’t that sound like you’re a bit of a control freak?”
“It’s not that simple—”
I cut his statement off by slapping my palm against his bare chest. The blow stung my hand so I could only imagine what it felt like for him. A glowing red hand print burned on his skin. “Don’t argue with me or else you will be punished. Only speak when I tell you to speak. Understood?”
“Fine, yes. Whatever.”
I struck his chest again with my hand, harder this time. Then I shoved my face close to his. “Keep fighting and I’ll grab that riding crop off the table. I’m more than happy to do this the hard way. Or we can do this the fun way.”
I placed my gloved hand around his cock and stroked him. The smoothness of the glove’s fabric was almost like lubricant so my hand slid easily over him. He grunted in surprise and immediately sprang to life. I slid my fist along his length until he was fully erect.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” I asked softly.
“Much better.”
I yanked my hand away and laughed cruelly. He glared at me.
“Oh, would you like me to continue?” I asked.
He nodded, his eyes still burning into mine.
“Then I need you to behave. I need you to submit.”
He didn’t respond. I walked behind him, admiring the strong lines of his back and the firmness of his ass. He looked like a chained up god. Like something out of a Greek myth.
The sight of him standing there restrained and helpless awoke a powerful lust within me. I forced myself to calm down and remember why I was doing this. I could enjoy myself, yes, but this wasn’t just a game. The attraction I was feeling couldn’t get the best of me. Not yet.
I leaned in behind him. “To get what you want, you have to give me what I want,” I whispered into his ear. My bare breasts pressed against his back and I slid my hand around his hip to grasp his cock. He tensed up against me, and he inhaled sharply.
“What do you want?” he aske
d.
“Answers.”
I released him from my grip and took a step away from him. His body relaxed. I didn’t want him to feel too at ease so I ran a sharp fingernail down his back, pressing just hard enough to leave a bright pink line on his otherwise flawless skin.
He hissed through his teeth. Then, just because I could, I spanked his ass hard with my bare palm, causing him to jump. Then I spanked him again, harder.
“First, I want to know about your fascination with bondage.” I circled back in front of him so I could see his eyes when he answered me. “Obviously, it’s something you enjoy. I want to know why.”
“I don’t know if there is a ‘why.’ It’s just a turn on.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. It’s just something I enjoy. When it comes to sex, everyone is into different things. Some people like to watch. Some people like to role play. And some people just like regular old vanilla sex with someone they love. For me, I like to take control of a woman’s pleasure. I like to take my time. I like to draw it out. It’s about the anticipation. It’s about the build up. So when that final exquisite moment of pleasure comes, it’s like nothing she’s ever felt before. It’s a hell of a turn on for me, and, in my experience, most woman tend to enjoy it, too.”
He wasn’t kidding. Just the description had gotten me going. I felt a delicious clench in my stomach as he was talking. I reached out and gave his cock a playful stroke.
“That was a good answer,” I said.
“It’s the truth.”
I nodded, satisfied. That was the first question answered. I’d wanted to know that his obsession with bondage wasn’t about cruelty or something dark. Obviously, I was beginning to understand the allure of dominating someone and of submitting to someone, but I needed to know why he liked it. I couldn’t have asked for a better answer.
I coaxed his erection back to life until it was full and thick in my hand. He had earned a bit of pleasure, after all. He grunted as I stroked him, and his hips pushed forward, hungry for more. I pulled my hand away, not letting him dictate the pace. I took a cue from what he had just said. I wanted to draw this out.
“So, tell me, is that the only thing that turns you on? Domination and control?”
“No, of course not. I like vanilla sex, too, but sometimes I don’t want vanilla. Sometimes it’s good to have some variety.”
That was question two answered. I had to know that these kinds of games weren’t the only sexual activity he enjoyed. I stroked him lightly with my fingers, just enough to keep him fully aroused.
“So when you do this sort of thing with other girls, are you always in control?”
He was breathing heavily, and his body squirmed. It looked like he was having trouble concentrating. “Well, I haven’t tried this with as many woman as you might think. But yes, I was always in control.”
“Have you ever been on the other side of the equation? Have you ever been the submissive one like you are right now?”
“No.”
“How does it feel?” I asked and gave his cock a squeeze.
“Frustrating.”
“How about now?”
I released his cock and took a step back so he could take in the sight of me. With a coy smile, I slipped my panties off to reveal my sex to him. I watched his eyes as they watched me. They were raw with desire. I sucked on my finger slowly and sensually until it was dripping wet.
Then I traced it across the line of my slit back and forth, gently parting my lips before inserting it inside me. With my gloved hand, I massaged my breast. The black silk stood out in stark contrast to my pale skin.
I kept my eyes locked on his and moaned. He strained against his bindings like a caged tiger. Slipping my finger from my pussy, I strutted over to him and shoved my finger into his mouth. He sucked on it greedily.
This was answer three, although I hadn’t asked the question out loud. I had to know if he could handle being submissive. His reaction told me he could.
I positioned myself so I stood just inches in front of him. I grabbed his stiff erection and placed it between my legs so that it just barely brushed against my lips. He bucked his hips forward, trying to get closer but I kept his cock grasped firmly in my hand so that I controlled how much of it made contact with me.
When he stopped squirming, I slipped my hips forward, just allowing him to rub along my wet slit. He groaned as I stroked along his length with my sex.
“Do you want me?” I asked softly.
He nodded.
“Say it. Do. You. Want. Me?”
“Yes,” he said, almost growling. “I want you. Please.”
I shifted my hips back, breaking the contact between us.
“If you want me, then I need you to tell me the truth. The agreement that we had today, is that something you’ve done before?”
“No, never.”
“Then why me?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Tell me again.”
“I wanted to spend some time with you. Maybe help you find your way in life.”
I balked. “Then why all the different scenarios? If you just wanted to spend time with me and give me advice, what was the point of tying me up? What was the point of asking me all those personal questions?”
“I also wanted to get to know you.”
Anger flared up inside me. “That doesn’t make any sense. Stop lying to me.”
“No, I mean I really wanted to get to know you. The real you, without any pretense or bullshit. And to do that, I needed to break down your walls and get to the secret heart of you.”
“So it was a test?”
“No, not exactly. Look, all of us hide behind masks, sometimes without even knowing it. You act one way with your professors. You act another way with a guy you like. You act a different way with your boss. I wanted to strip away the mask.”
“Why?”
He sighed heavily and his shoulders sagged. “Look, I don’t believe in love at first sight or anything like that, but when I met you, something happened to me. You took hold of me in a way I’ve never felt before. We had that great night together, which got ruined, and maybe I should have just let you go, but I couldn’t.”
“So you came up with this whole twisted scenario?”
“Do you really think it’s twisted?”
“It’s definitely not normal.”
“Well, yes, but that’s because it’s too easy to fake it and pretend to be someone else during normal situations. If I was going to get to know the real you, it had to be intense. It had to be unfamiliar.”
I understood what he meant. I was doing the same thing to him right now. I was trying to break down his barriers so I could see past the face he showed to the rest of the world.
“Okay, fine, but you still haven’t told me one thing. So you got to know me. The real me. Then what? What was the point of all this?”
“Goddamnit, I like you. I liked you when I met you and I like you even more now that we spent the day together. I know we got off to a rocky start, but I was hoping you’d give me a second chance.”
“This is a really fucked up way to score a second date with me.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I had to know if I could trust you, okay?”
I felt like he was finally being honest with me, but I needed to know more. “Go on.”
“I’ve had some bad experiences in the past. I let myself fall for the wrong women. Women who pretended to be someone they weren’t. Some people just like me for my money, even if they don’t realize it. I wanted to make sure with you.”
“But I didn’t want to see you again. Why bother?”
“I was hoping to change your mind about that, and I don’t give up easily.”
“So what’s the verdict. You think you can trust me?”
He grinned. “I let you tie me up, didn’t I?”
“And how do I know I can trust you?�
�
“I’ve been honest with you all day. Nothing that I told you was a lie. Trust is a two-way street, and I would never do anything to give you a reason to doubt me.”
I thought about it and nodded. Then a wave of guilt washed over me. “You’re wrong about me, you know. I’m no better than anyone else. The only reason I was here today was because of your money.”
“I know, but that’s not why you showed up here the other night. You had no idea I was rich. Sure, I was going to pay you to model, but that was all you knew. You liked me for me. When we made love, you wanted to be with me, not my money.”
