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“Yes, Sir.” I let him steer me away from the bed, to a récamier in the sitting area. It was a sort of chaise longue with high, curved ends, and I came up with at least fourteen different naughty uses for the thing as we approached it. My sex brain had been turned off for a while, but now it was making up for lost time.
“Lie down, and spread your legs. A foot on the floor on either side, please,” he ordered me, and I did as he asked, lying against the brocade covering, my legs wide apart, my high-heels touching the floor
“Very nice. Now, if you don’t mind...” He left the room, left me there, unrestrained but unmoving. When he returned, it was with a small, wheeled suitcase. “I hope you don’t mind watching a moment while I unpack?”
“Unpack?” I squeaked in outrage, lifting my head. He gave me a sharp look, and I lay back down.
“I did warn you, Sophie, that if you wanted to explore total submission, I would expect more from you. That includes expecting more patience.” He unzipped the suitcase. The first object he pulled out was a flogger, with long, black tails. He lifted it as if testing the weight in his hand, then brought it down sharply over his clothed arm. It whistled as the tails resisted the air, and he hissed in surprise, opening and closing his fingers and chuckling. “My, that is going to hurt.”
I took a sudden, shuddering breath.
“You know your words, of course,” he continued, removing what appeared to be a set of leather cuffs, four of them chained together in a short x of gleaming chrome clamps. “But my goal is for you to never need them. This is a bit like training, as much for you as it is for me. It will give me a chance to learn you better, to know your body, and anticipate just how much you can take. Push yourself as far as you like; I trust you to know your own limits better than I do, and I trust you to help me find them.”
As he finished his sentence, he brought out a wand-style massager with a bulbous head and... oh good god, it plugged in. It plugged in to the wall.
I shivered uncontrollably as I watched him unload the suitcase, laying each item out on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. There were more restraints, attached to a collapsible bar; the paddle he had used on me before; a slender black case he opened to reveal a spiky, stainless steel instrument that looked like the serial killer cousin of my mom’s stitch marker for hand sewing.
“Maybe not this trip,” he said when he looked up and saw my wide eyes. He snapped the case closed and set it on the table.
The rest of the bag was filled with more accoutrements of perversion; rope, dildos of various sizes, the small platinum vibe he’d used on me before, a length of black silk— to blindfold me, no doubt— and a few glass items, one unmistakably a butt plug.
Every time I thought the bag must be empty, he brought yet another item out. It was like he’d hijacked Mary Poppins’s luggage on her way to a fetish weekend.
He moved toward me slowly, his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He stared down at me, spread for him, my body weeping and wanting. He’d barely touched me yet, and I felt like I was on the edge, ready to explode.
“I like this,” he said, gripping the rolled end of the récamier. “There are really so many ways we could utilize it. We might need to get one for the bedroom.”
“I like that idea, Sir.” I writhed against the upholstery.
“We’re going to begin with a game, Sophie.” He pulled a coin from his pocket and held it in front of me. One euro. He flipped it into the air and caught it on the back of his hand. “Would you like to hear the rules?”
“Yes, Sir.” I chewed my lower lip as I watched the coin glittering in his big hands. I wanted him to touch me. I really hoped that would be a part of the game.
“The rules are fairly simple. I’ll give you a command, you’ll execute that command, and we’ll flip the coin to see if you do it again or move on to a different action. Do you understand?”
I wasn’t sure I did. “I... think so? But it sounds simple, I’m sure I’ll pick it up, Sir.”
“All right, since you’re so eager to start.” He rolled the coin between his thumb and forefinger. “Slowly circle your clitoris with one finger.”
“Happily, Sir,” I breathed in relief. My fingers slipped beneath my panties, and he tutted impatiently.
“No. Over your panties,” he said as though I should have known the difference. “It isn’t much of a game if you get off right away.”
