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“Do you think you can handle all this?” he asks, waving his hands over his body like he’s a model in a game show.
“I’m sure I’ll manage. Go lie down on the bed, and spread your arms and legs for me.”
He smirks but goes and does as I ask without being a smartass about it. I rise from the chair and cross to the dresser. I run my fingertips over the coils of rope. It’s softer than one might expect rope to be. I look up at myself in the mirror and take a deep, steadying breath. The last time I tied him up, he was asleep.
I light a few of the candles in the glass containers on the dresser, then I turn and slowly stalk over to Brian, assessing my prey.
I tie his ankles first, testing the ropes to make sure I’m not cutting off his circulation but he also can’t break free. Then I crawl up over his body.
He jerks on the rope to test it when I tie one wrist to the headboard. I wait until I’m on his other wrist, before I yank the rope a little too tight on purpose.
“Fuck, Mina!” he growls.
“Shhhhh, be a good puppy or you won’t get your treat.” My voice is light and sing song.
“You’re playing with fire.”
“So are you,” I purr back.
I rise from the bed and take a good look at him all splayed out for my consumption. He shudders as I lightly graze the length of his cock with my fingertips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he says.
I just laugh. “Why would I do that when we make such a great team? No one can make me come quite like you.”
I return to the dresser and take one of the burning candles from its container. I’m not sure if he’ll go for this. He has history with burns. Cigarette burns his horrible stepmother left on him as a child. I don’t know if he will let me do this, or if he can.
His eyes widen slightly as he comes to understand my intention.
“Mina… What are you doing?” he says, uncertain, suddenly looking very vulnerable. This is the most true vulnerability I’ve seen from him since the first night when he bought me and I walked in on him crying in the shower. The water had run cold and he was just sitting there as it ran over him, sobbing, reduced once again to that small helpless boy. I’d turned the shower off and placed my hand on his shoulder. His hand had covered mine, and we’d stayed together like that for a small eternity.
“I’m giving you a souvenir, marking you. Do you trust me?”
He takes a long slow breath, his eyes lock on mine before finally nodding. “Yes, I trust you.”
I nod and turn on the record player and carefully place the needle, starting Chopin’s Nocturne Number Two before returning to his side. I straddle him, and carefully begin to drip the wax.
He hisses as it hits. I press a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh.”
I lay out the pattern of my design, slowly, waiting for each piece to harden on his sleek stomach before continuing. He jerks each time another drop hits, but he remains surprisingly still.
“Such a good soldier,” I whisper as I finish my project.
I blow out the candle and lay it on the table beside the bed, then I straddle him again, sinking onto his exquisitely formed dick. I ride him slowly. He hisses again as my fingernails score his flesh, as I drag them down his chest.
“You’re here for my pleasure now,” I say.
“I’m always here for your pleasure.”
This response surprises me, but I know it’s always been true with him. Despite our dynamic he’s never selfishly withheld from me.
I ride him harder as my pleasure builds again for a second time. This time when I come, I take him with me, cresting over the wave. He lets out a guttural groan, his hands desperately grabbing for something to hold onto and finding only the ropes that bind him at my mercy.
Temporarily at least. I have to untie him sometime. But after his last words, I feel relatively certain that releasing him won’t result in my untimely death.
I slump on top of him and wait as our breathing returns to normal and he softens inside me. I rise off him. Finally I remove the hardened pieces of wax from his stomach.
After I untie him, I expect he’ll want to regain the upper hand, but his curiosity is too strong. I follow him to the bathroom and stand beside him as he looks in the mirror.
