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For an accountant that seemed the ultimate sin – not keeping track of numbers. I giggled despite that threat. Agony, not to be able to say that out loud. His odd expression made me giggle some more.
“Ah. I get it. Bad woman.” Then he smiled and the warmth in that smile astounded me.
He drew back and gently wrapped his hand around my wrist. Then he looked at my body like a man with all the time in the world. I was on display, and pain simmered where he’d caned my thighs and my rear. Yet desire arrived in a hot trembling wave.
His hold on my wrist slipped away. He walked around the table, but kept his fingers on me, sliding them soft as moonlight over the catsuit. There was less than a millimeter of cloth between his fingertips and my skin. When he reached the curve of my breast, I was shocked into heightened awareness. As he circled my bellybutton, I parted my lips the smallest distance and half-closed my eyes. When his hand travelled along the crease between my thigh and the triangle of my mons, I sighed and strained not to arch into his touch. For a few agonizing moments he stopped there, standing at the far end while he retraced, up then down, that line … a mere inch from my engorged clitoris. I recalled in vivid detail the occasions when his tongue had played there. I didn’t look at him. I just prayed he’d move on.
By the time he returned to the head of the table, but on my right and not my left, I was having trouble staying outwardly calm. I forced my breathing back to normal and focused on a vase of fresh geraniums on the faraway sideboard on the other side of the room. Who had picked those?
The sun was going down, the shadows stretching, and the colors were fading from the room.
“Look at me,” Klaus said softly.
The seconds plucked at me, ticking past, and slowly the strength of his words made me turn my head to look up at him. Only I found him at my eye level, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Hello.” He stirred the curls of my hair that lay on the mattress. “Capture fantasy. Maybe.” Now he touched my lip, venturing in with his finger to play with the line of my teeth.
“Suck.”
I hesitated, but then I closed my mouth into a wet circle around his finger and tentatively sucked. The sexuality of this little act sent a signal down below. I swelled. I’m sure some moisture leaked from me. And I couldn’t look away. My pussy did one of those tiny spasms telling me precisely what my body wanted. After all he’d done to me, and this, I still wanted him to do dirty things to me. Things no sane person would want.
He withdrew his finger then slowly plunged it back in and out. “I think… I think you’re my slave right now, Jodie. Or close to it, in your mind, and in mine. To be honest, nothing we have ever done together has been as amazing as this. I’m in love with making you hurt and wince and scream, but I also want to watch you come. I want to fuck your gorgeous mouth and your ass more than I ever did before. I want you mine more than ever before.”
Oh crap. How much was true, how much was mind fuck? I didn’t know. From cringing at the pain notions, I’d flown straight into being enthralled. My libido was sitting up and panting with its ass in the air.
“But first I want to see you masturbate in front of me.”
Ick. No. Uh-uh. I squirmed inside and my libido ran away and hid.
“You haven’t said a single word. That’s so fucking good. It pleases me. Never thought this sort of power would get to me. But it does. Another thing,” he murmured. “I don’t ever want to let you go again.”
Everything screeched to a halt. Not let me go? That might be good, or it might be very bad.
“What are you thinking?”
A question. I could speak. I licked my lips, remembering the feel of his finger sliding in. “I’m thinking that …” The words seemed odd on my tongue. “That you’re not that good an actor.”
He smiled slightly. “True. I’m not. And?”
And what? “And so what you just said is fucking scary.”
“Don’t swear.”
My throat tightened. Just because he didn’t want me to I was worried. The cane, the whole way he’d taken hold of the situation, of me, it all muddled up together. I didn’t want to swear. Not with him staring at me like that.
“As soon as you masturbate for me, we can move on.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to “move on” anymore. I was confused and horny and scared and so fucked up in my head. At least I could swear in my mind.
Fuck fuck fuckitty fuck.
No, that hadn’t helped.
Evening had arrived and it was dark outside. When he switched off all the room lights except for the softer up-lights, the room became an isolated cave. The front windows were open and the louvers rattled in the sea breeze, but no one could see us. I was alone with Klaus. Tied up and alone. I strained at the cuffs until the edge of the leather scraped my skin, twisting my wrists, seeing if I could slip loose an ankle or a wrist. No. Loose but not loose enough. I was unable to stop him doing whatever he had in mind. And that, admit it, that turned me on.
“Done wriggling?”
He smirked at me then went and set up the standing lamp that I used in jewelry making. By screwing back a knob he focused the light down into a small circle on my crotch. I could feel the warmth of the light. I could tell I was very wet down there. I could also tell the catsuit would be concealing almost nothing because it had gathered between my labia.
