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I splayed my hand over her abs, feeling her muscles jump and dance as she squirmed in my restraining hold.
“Let me go.” Her demand was breathless, hitching slightly as fear flooded her senses.
I nuzzled her hair and inhaled her soft, floral scent, imprinting the memory in my brain. She was scared this first time, so deliciously frightened and powerless in my arms. Mynaïve young bride had no idea of the pleasure I would wring from her in this room, when I toyed with her for hours at my leisure. She would cry in pain and ecstasy, and I would savor her tears.
I surveyed the room as she trembled against me, looking at it through her eyes. The massive bed would be familiar enough to her, save for the numerous restraint points on the black metal frame. The large domed cage was obvious, too, but I doubted she’d ever seen the rest of the bondage furniture that waited for her helpless body to be strapped down for wicked torment. Would she even conceive of how I’d bend her over the spanking bench or how I’d cuff her to the St. Andrew’s Cross?
If she didn’t understand their particular function, it would be easy enough for her to interpret my intentions based on the wall of impact implements to our right. A varied selection of single tail whips, floggers, canes, and more cruel toys of my own design were hung in an artful pattern, each one waiting to lash her with a particular flavor of pain.
“Please…” She squirmed against me. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, you will suffer for me, little bird. You’ll sing for me.” I’d never heard a more beautiful sound than her scream of despair and ecstasy when I’d compelled her to come in my ropes. I would force it from her again and again, a lovely song just for me.
Keeping her pinned with one arm banded around her, I reached for the second drawer on the tall black cabinet to my left. She jerked when I slid it open, the soft sound magnified by her fear.
“What are you doing?” she demanded shakily.
I didn’t respond. I simply picked up the thick metal cuffs by the chain that attached them and swiftly grabbed her right wrist. The polished stainless-steel cuff clicked into place, shackling her. She cried out in alarm and tried to pull free, but I used theleverage of the short chain to hold her steady while I grabbed her left wrist and secured it with quick precision.
She twisted her entire body, shimmying free from the cage of my arms. I let her go, keeping only the chain hooked around two of my fingers. The simple hold anchored her to me, and she jerked and cursed as I easily led her into the center of the room.
Suddenly, she stopped dragging her feet and launched herself at me, small hands curled into fists. I’d denied her instinct for flight, and now my little pet wanted to fight me. She was so delicate and fragile. She’d hurt herself if I didn’t get her fully under control.
I would always take care of my wife.
Keeping the chain in my fist, I lifted her hands above her head, preventing her from punching out at me. With my free hand, I grasped the hook that hung from the ceiling and locked it through the short length of chain, leaving her dangling by her wrists. She kicked out at me, so I stepped away, enjoying the pretty jangle of metal as she struggled.
I crossed to the corner and grasped the opposite end of the chain, which extended from where I had it running through a metal ring directly above her head. I pulled on it slowly, watching as her flailing movements became gradually restricted, her body drawing taut until she was forced to stand on her toes.
A wicked image of her wearing pointe shoes in this position flashed across my mind. Yes, I’d keep her in that predicament another day. Soon.
As it was, she couldn’t do more than stretch her body to its limit and quiver, waiting for my next move.
“Are you uncomfortable, darling?” I asked, teasing her.
“Fuck you,” she seethed.
I laughed, delighted at her fire. Taming her would be a pleasure.
“Not yet,” I reminded her. “Not until you beg.”
She pressed her lips together, as though sealing the words inside forever.
My low, cruel chuckle rumbled through the room, and she shivered as though it was a physical touch.
She was truly breathtaking, her lithe body barely concealed by the black lace I’d dressed her in. The robe parted slightly between her breasts, and it was short enough that it barely covered her shapely ass in her current stressed position.
“Should I show a little mercy?” I asked, soft and reasonable.
“I doubt you’re capable of mercy,” she hissed, turning her head to the side as she struggled to spear me with her hazel glare.
I clicked my tongue at her. “So hostile. You don’t know me at all, my pretty bride. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
I loosened the tension on the chain by two inches, allowing her feet to stand flat on the black tile floor. When she was in the position I desired, I secured the chain and went to retrieve the next item for her torment.
Her wide, fearful eyes darkened with confusion as I approached with the long metal bar and knelt before her. She tried to kick at my face again, but I released a small, warning growl and grabbed her ankle. Her weight dropped on her bound wrists, and she cried out at the flash of pain. I stared up at her, keeping my firm hold on her ankle as she struggled to find her balance on one foot. Her eyes shot daggers at me, and she bared her teeth like a trapped animal. I brushed a kiss over her calf, communicating my pleasure with her.
She was responding to my games beautifully.
