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“Shit.” He nods. “Right, we’ll do it your way.” Once he’s made up his mind, Tony is all action. “Stay there. I won’t be long.”
I sit on the bed, my knees drawn up to my chin while he drags on his jeans and pads barefoot from the room. He’s gone about ten minutes, the time it takes him to go down to the basement where I gather items of punishment and torture are kept. He returns with a long, supple cane and a leather strap.
“Why the strap?” I ask. “I thought…”
“For your wrists,” he answers.
“You won’t need to tie me up.”
His lip quirks. “I think I will, sweetheart.”
“No, I’ve agreed.”
“Once we start, you’ll try to protect yourself. You won’t be able to help it however good your intentions.” He takes my face between his hands. “This is going to hurt, more than anything you’ve ever experienced before. I guarantee it. I’m not prepared to risk injuring you, so you will be restrained to make sure you stay still.”
My stomach does a sort of weird fluttery thing. Have I been too hasty? Have I been blinded by false bravado? Maybe Tonyshouldtry to reason with Ethan Savage one more time.
I gather my wits again and put such thoughts out of my head. I need to get past this. There really is no alternative, and it’s good that he cares enough to want to protect me.
“Where do you want me?” I whisper.
He doesn’t hesitate. I guess he’s been considering the nuts and bolts for a while.
“Facedown over the bed. Feet on the floor. You can put a couple of pillows under your stomach to lift your bottom up for me.”
I grab two pillows from behind me and arrange them on the edge of the mattress, then drape myself over them. “Is this all right?”
“Perfect.” He runs an appreciative gaze over my naked body, laid out for punishment. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Once or twice.”
“Add to that courageous. And stubborn. And perhaps just a little bit insane.”
“Noted,” I manage.
He lays the cane beside me on the bed. “Put your arms behind you.”
I do as he asks and allow him to secure my wrists with the strap. The leather is buttery soft.
“Is this okay? Not too tight?”
“It feels fine,” I lie.
“Yeah. Right.” He shoves his fingers under the leather to check for himself. “There’s no point telling you to let me know if you feel any tingling in your hands because once we start you won’t even notice anything else. I’ll keep checking.”
“Thank you.”
“Six strokes,” he announces, before I have time to ask. “Make as much din as you like, but try to keep still. If you need me to stop for a bit, say so. Otherwise, I’ll get on and finish it as quickly as I can.”
I can’t think of anything else to say, so I settle for thanking him again.
“Ready?” He picks up the cane.
“Yes,” I reply. “Just…get on with it.”
I barely have time to draw in my next breath before the cane whistles through the air and my bottom explodes in agony. I let out an unearthly screech. My feet rear up behind me, and I try to roll away.
His palm is in the small of my back, pressing me into the mattress. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe through it.”
