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“Just playing around,” I reply nonchalantly.
Her eyes narrow in on me, scrutinizing every movement. I return the look, warning her with my eyes to close her mouth. Just in the little time we have been trapped together, she understands the message loud and clear. Her mouth snaps shut.
I do the same to his legs, cuffing them into place before standing back up. “I don't know who you are, and I don't know where you came from, but this is the last room you will see.”
The look on his face is priceless. I consider pulling out my phone to take a picture but disregard the intrusive thought. I don't need evidence that can incriminate me or my wife.
“What the fuck, bro? I thought we were doing some kinky shit!” He hollers at me.
I remain silent and motion for Zolina to follow me to the metal counter nearby. Once she's at my side, I turn, picking her up by the hips and placing her on the table. “Stay,” I demand. Walking out of their view, I make my way across the lengthy room to the ropes. I choose the maroon jute rope off the wall; It won't do much harm if she can stay still. Grabbing the medical scissors, I shove them into my pocket and walk back towards them. It pleases me that she hasn't moved. She’s more obedient than I thought she would be.
Without speaking, I pick her back up and place her bare feet on the ground. “I don't know where your shoes are, and I don't care right now. Just know I am extremely disappointed in your behavior, Zolina. We will be having a discussion later. Do you understand?” She nods her head. Taking that as decent enough permission, I continue. “I'm going to tie you up now. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, use your safe word. Use your words. I will check in on you periodically, five being perfectly okay, one wanting to stop immediately, and three needing to pause. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, grinning and showing off her white teeth.
I growl at her. She is going to be the death of me and my cock.
The man in the corner finds his voice once again, “Now we're talkin’. Tie her up already so we can get the party started.”
He must be drunker than I thought if he already forgot about the promise I made him. Whatever.
I start by grabbing her hands and making them clasp behind her body, folded and resting against her lower back. I ask her many times how she is doing. Her answer is always the same– five. I cast her knees together and join them to her wrists.
“How do you feel, Snowflake? Are you okay still?” I ask, hoping that the answer is again the same.
“Yes. I'm okay,” she pants.
“Good girl. I'm just about finished, and then we’ll continue with our night.” I lean down and breathe her in. She smells like the frost on a wintry morning, the scent of those warm cashmere candles, and a hint of vanilla bean. I lick my lips and press a small kiss on her temple. The small noise she makes in the back of her throat reminds me of a kitten purring.
I tie her up enough to keep her from running away but still allow her enough rope to sit if needed. Plopping her down on a rolling stool, I smile. “Ready, Snowflake?”
She bats her eyelashes and nods. “Yes.”
The stranger must have fallen asleep, so I chose the quiet moments to cut away his clothes and finish gathering my tools. “Wakey, wakey! No eggs and bakey!” I sing song to him while slapping his cheek lightly.
He grunts and groans as his eyes crack open. “Where am I?” He asks while trying to wiggle out of the cuffs. “What's happening?”
“You fucked with the wrong man's wife. That's what's happening.” I scrunch my face. “Well, I guess it's kind of the right man, at least for what will happen. I wouldn't want anyone else but me to do this if I was you. Does that make sense, caveman?”
“No. It doesn't. What the fuck are you talking about? Let me go! I'll kill you!” He spits at me, literally.
“You touched something that doesn't belong to you. Plus, you let something that doesn't belong to you… touch you. No, touchy touchy. Or rather, you touched the wrong toucher and you let that toucher… touch you. Touché?” I ask, fucking with his head.
“What?” His face is full of confusion.
Well, that wasn't hard.
“Nothing,” I mumble under my breath. Zolina is in the chair behind me, laughing hysterically. At least she understands what I’m saying. I turn my head and narrow my eyes at her. She closes her lips but doesn't hide the laughter in her eyes. Goofball.
Now that the man is naked, I get closer to him, using my free hand to play with his cock. Normally, I wouldn't play with my victims, but he wanted to let my wife play with him. It's the least I can do. Within moments, he is harder than a rock.
I pull the sandpaper off the surgical tray next to us. P80 grit should be exactly what the doctor ordered. I fit it into my hand and hold it to his shaft. I start slowly, his hips jerking with my movements. He is still drunk, so he doesn't notice at first.
“Oh, dude. You did bring me here to party!” He laughs.
“Oh yes, and what a party it will be.” I start stroking him harder and faster, his face flips from pleasure to pain in an instant.
“Ow, bro. Use some lube or something. It feels like you are jacking me off with sandpaper,” he comments.
