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“I can’t do anything else,” I protest.
“That’s okay. All you have to do is sit tight.” I look to Lik, but he’s not on the bed anymore. He’s not even in the room.
“Where are the others?” My wobbly voice doesn’t help.
“They’ll be back, don’t worry.”
As if on cue, Lik walks into the room…holding the cop’s handcuffs.
“No,” I hiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” But Sam holds me by the shoulders, making sure I don’t get up, while Lik pulls my arms behind the chair and cuffs my hands.
“Don’t you remember my words at the ball, Rose? I must say that is surprising from you.”
Of course I remember what he said. Who does he think he’s talking to?
“I said you would be punished when you returned to us. All you had to worry about was which of us would do it.”
“I know what you fucking said,” I rage.
“Good news.” His monotonous voice doubles my anger. “We decided it would be me.”
“What was all that then, if not a punishment,” I try to bargain as I twist my wrists in the cuffs for the second time tonight.
“You enjoyed all that way too much for it to be a punishment.”
“You had me crawling across the room, Sam,” I spit. “And I fucking did it for you guys. You’re asking too much of me.”
“Am I?” He grabs my chin, keeping me from twisting and turning. “I quite enjoyed watching you crawl, baby. Getting you on all fours just so you could get nice and wet for us. Part of the punishment is admitting that you enjoy being treated like the little slut you are.”
A smile tips at the corner of my mouth. “So you do admit earlier was part of the punishment?”
He cackles a laugh, not a bit ashamed that I’m just that tiny bit smarter than he is and that he still hasn’t managed to tame my sass. “I suppose you’re right,” he admits. “Time for therestof the punishment, then.”
“Ugh, fuck you!” I manage to jut my chin out of his hold. Or maybe he lets me.
“That’s how I train my subs, Rose.” He runs his knuckles against my chin. “If you let a pet get away with too much from the get-go, you’ll never be able to domesticate them.”
My teeth grind when my jaw tightens. “Compare me to your pet once more and see what happens,” I growl low.
“Do you want a leash next time you crawl?” he smirks.
I have to physically bite my tongue to not get myself in more trouble than I already am. He’s done it again: put me in a weak position and make sure I can’t defend myself. Next step is making me admit I love it.
I don’t know when I stopped wriggling against my bonds, but it seems he managed to make me give up, yet again.
He lowers himself, squatting in front of me, and spreads my legs. “Still wet, I see,” he observes clinically. My cheeks heat up and I have to look away.
I see him pull something out of his pocket from the corner of my eyes. Thick, white zip-ties. Dread grips me, and my entire body starts to shake.
“No!” I scream at him. It’s much louder than the other times I tried to stop him.
It’s real.
He glances up at me, questions in his eyes.
“Not zip-ties,” I insist, shaking my head.
When he doesn’t respond, I don’t control my body. I kick him, both legs going for his chest. It doesn’t do much to him, but I almost tip the chair over.
