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The only list I had in my head wasn’t civilized, not at all.
Well this man had a fucking thick veneer.
The camera had kicked back into showing live footage and Jodie had begun to talk. The mic picked up her words from where she stood in the middle of the room.
“I was going to try keep this as a role-playing type of scenario and pretend when I talked like this on camera but that seems silly now.” She frowned and paused as if thinking. “So, some honesty. I’m a little stunned by what Klaus just did.”
I sat forward.
Still frowning she looked up, dead on the camera, as if speaking directly to me. “That wasn’t what I expected. I was, still am, a bit angry. I didn’t feel safe. And yet it also didn’t tick any boxes for me in this capture fantasy. This is all…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s all feeling too pretend. Too made-up. I doubt Klaus can ever convince me otherwise. He’s too nice. And really, I don’t need a nice man for this. This is just, just wrong.”
Yeah, I knew what she meant there.
I placed the pen hard on the table like I could stick it down by pressing, and shoved back the couch as I stood. I needed to sort this out.
I picked up the whole box of perverted goodies, went downstairs and unlocked the door to the basement, walked in, and dropped the box on the floor. She was doing push-ups but froze and crawled around into a sitting position with her legs off to one side. Her hair had fallen across half her face and swayed before her eye. It looked sexy, daring, like in there, behind that fringe, was the real her.
Real her, real deep dark uncivilized me.
End this. Because for sure, if you don’t, this will end badly. Where had I heard that before?
“Hi.” A little crease marked between her eyes. “Klaus, this isn’t working.”
“What?” We’d both reached the same conclusion?
“I thought maybe this could work, but no. I don’t think you have an ounce of mean in you. Unless it’s for somebody you’re fighting in a judo match. You’re nice, but too nice. Maybe we should call this off?”
Nice? Like some rusty machinery starting up, defiance growled to life inside me.
I had an epiphany. That light that hits when something comes clear – one of those. I understood what was going wrong. The bondage before – what bullshit. I also understood why I felt an undercurrent of anger. All of this exercise in “capture fantasy” was her toying with me and with the whole concept. This documentary was a mockery.
“I agree. This isn’t working.”
Pure agreeable statement, but she rocked back slightly before she nodded.
“Nice is bad, Jodie? You want mind fuck. You want mean. You want things you dream about. You have no idea.”
Her eyes widened.
“Starting now. The rules are gone. I make my own rules.”
“Uh. What? They were your rules.”
I took down the list from the door and held it, slowly tapping the laminated paper against my leg. “No. They were not.”
After unfolding the flaps of the cardboard box, I tucked the list down inside and pulled out the two gags. “Rule one. You don’t talk unless I say you can.” As her mouth opened, with the buckles trapped in my fingers, I dropped both gags into view, and dangled them. “Talk and I use these.”
Like magic, her mouth clicked shut. Now I had her attention. That had worked. I was perhaps as stunned as she looked. She touched her tongue tip to her upper lip as I stood before her, and kept her gaze swinging from the gags to my face. I had a feeling I’d never had a woman so rapt in what I said. Addictive. The pulse of excitement had centered at my groin. Nothing I could do about it. I already knew that looking at women in bondage revved my engine. But I’d never done more than look at pictures.
Now I had an inkling that any situation where I got to hold the reins, really hold the reins, was like oxygen to a man in the throes of suffocation. Incredible.
I ran through my epiphany, convincing myself as much as her. Bluntness was called for.
“My conclusions. You asked me to do this because you still want me in your bed. You want me to fuck you.” Her gasp, I answered by swinging the ball gag. She uttered no words. “Somewhere in your plans, you hoped. The rules, I made up those in line with what I knew you’d be thinking. You knew I’d not step beyond, or not much.
“This,” I swept my arm across, “This room was your idea. Your rules. Lock me up. Make me yours for a while, but not too rough or dangerous because that isn’t in my rules.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Though she frowned and shook her head I went on. It didn’t matter if she deluded herself.
