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“No shit,” Zane said drily from the other side of the room.
He took a few steps and opened one of the drawers of a nearby rosewood Empire-style chiffonier to reveal an array of nipple weights and a pair of real iron manacles.
“The manacles are from the Spanish Inquisition,” she said.
“Holy fuck. You are badass, Alexis.”
A collection of ropes neatly bundled and labeled by length, strength and material, along with carabiners in every size and every color, graced another drawer. He opened a third to find a dozen paddles of varying materials and old, polished, wooden butt plugs.
“Is it safe to deduce you don’t need anal training then?” he said of the antique plugs. One of them even had a horse tail.
“Affirmative,” she said.
The fourth drawer held a modern sex-swing that was still in the box.
“Perfect.”
“I couldn’t hang it up,” she explained. “It’s not an antique.”
“We’ll hang it up in the living room,” he offered.
“Thank you.”
“Then the three of us will scour the world together to find an original,” he offered. “Perhaps starting in Greece or Turkey? Or a sultan’s harem in the Middle East?”
“Zane,” Alexis began tentatively. “Believe it or not, I have never shown anyone this room,” she confessed sincerely. “No one. Ever. Even the candles are antiques. I have never lit them.”
Zane joined Alexis and Rod, and wonderment was stamped across the men’s features.
“No living soul has ever laid eyes on this place,” she continued, “only you two. I’ve always wanted to share my secret, but until now I never met anyone I could trust with it.”
“Dead men tell no tales,” Rod said in his pirate voice.
Alexis smiled and kissed his lips.
“Strip, wench.” The Dom mask fell over his face. “Now!”
Suddenly, Rod snatched Alexis off her feet. In one smooth motion, he laid her face-down across his lap and sat down upon a sturdy wooden spanking bench at the same time. He ripped her skirt down to her knees. Her shredded panties were still in his coat pocket. He pressed the forearm of his left arm firmly across the middle of her back so she could not squirm away. He twisted her skirt around her ankles as double insurance against her escape.
“You are a little brat.”
He paused before he began.
Alexis tingled with anticipation. Rod touched her softly at first, teasing her and building her longing, while he rubbed her still-sensitive bottom in brisk circles. She pretended to struggle so he would hold her down harder.
“Count,” he directed.
Crack!
“One…” Alexis gasped as his bare palm smacked her naked ass.
Crack!
“Two….” she squeaked.
Tears of passion and pain seeped from her eyes. For all of the fancy equipment she had in her dungeon, thrashing was her favorite erotic pain.
Again.
