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I smiled when it dawned, but I was nervous. Really nervous.
I only hoped I could go through with it, enough to break him before restraint got the better of me.
I reached for his telephone handset, and took what I needed.
He was waiting for me, just as he said he would be. His belt was unbuckled, and his suit bottoms were ready to drop. He slid them down as I watched, kicking them aside with his shoes and socks. I placed my selection on the nearest bench, and put the staff key in the lock. We were in, just us, undisturbed until I decided we were done, and it felt like Heaven. I turned my attention to the perfect specimen of alpha male dominance before me, except now he wasn’t. Now he was all mine.
“Shirt next,” I said. “I want you naked.”
“As you wish.” He had to peel if off his skin, and it looked delicious. His skin was damp and hot, perfect for my touch. I ran my hands up his chest, all over him.
“You’re sure about this?”
“Perfectly,” he said. “I’ll do this, Faye, just tell me what you want.” His lip curled up. “I’m not promising I’ll be doing it again, mind you. We’ll have to see where this goes.”
“Deal. That’s good enough for me.”
I pressed my lips to his nipple. Nipped him just enough to feel him flinch. “You’re so beautiful,” I hissed. “Seriously, Andy, you drive me crazy.” He was nervous, it was in his eyes, and it made it all the better. “I’m going to enjoy this. You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy this. I’ve dreamed of this.”
I kicked a simple padded mat across to the middle of the room, and pulled the ceiling-strung shackles from their fastening at the wall. I locked them into place between us, and silently he offered me his wrists. My clit pulsed like a crazy thing as I fastened him in, and my breath was ragged as I raised the chains until he was on his toes. I could see every muscle in his arms, every ripple of his chest, and it was gorgeous. I walked around him, running a hand up the plains of his back and giving his ass a good squeeze.
“I’m ready,” he said. “Do it, Faye.”
I took out the strap and landed it across his shoulders. Just enough of a bite for a warm up. His skin flashed pink all the same and oh fuck, my pussy was wet. “I’m going to hurt you,” I said, softly. “It’s going to really hurt, Andy.”
He nodded. “I know.”
I pinked him up with the strap, and gave him ten hard strikes with the cane, but this was all common ground. He flinched, breath heavy, but he didn’t falter, didn’t even break up a sweat. I snaked my hands around his waist and took his cock in my hand, and he was hard. He wasn’t going to break easily, not at all.
I gave him another ten and these were quicker, harder. He grunted and gritted his teeth, but he didn’t say a word. The next five I landed on his thighs, and he moved in his chains, just a step. He took a breath, recomposed himself. But I didn’twanthim composed. I wanted him broken.
I knew what I had to do, but I was nervous. Really nervous. I unravelled the telephone cable and doubled it, wrapping one end around my hand. I tested it through the air and it made a savage whirring noise. It would bite, and mark, and cut. It would hurt, too. It would hurt so fucking bad.
His eyes widened as he saw it, and he swallowed. “Good choice.”
“You’ll bleed,” I said, but my voice was firm.
“Yes.”
“Don’t fight it,” I whispered. “Don’t wait for it to be over. It won’t be over until you give up.”
“I know.” He took a breath. “Do it.”
I took a breath, too. Then took up position at his side, just a pace behind him. I tightened my grip on the wire, and aimed steady. It cracked diagonally across his back, and he jerked forwards, clenching his fists around the chains. The stripe was instant, red and angry. I crossed it with the second, and he grunted. The chains rattled. The next one curled, and he twisted in the cuffs, the loop of the wire biting the tender flesh of his ribcage.
He was tense, so tense, and my mouth turned dry at the realisation he was fighting.
“Don’t fight,” I breathed. “Andy, don’t fight this.”
But he couldn’t help it. The next one coiled around his waist, and he did cry out then, a sharp yowl as it landed. I followed it quickly, and his breath turned shallow.
“Fuck,” he snapped. “Fuck, that fucking hurts.”
I gritted my teeth at his tone, and picked up pace, and he twisted, arms straining but going nowhere.
“Come on,” I said. “Give it up.”
He cried out properly as I curled a lash around his hips, and again as I doubled up on the lashes across his back, and he was shaking, sweating, but still fucking fighting. The next drew blood for the first time, just a fleck, the first cut, but it must have hurt him, as he lowered his head, hissing out expletives under his breath.
