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“I think it would,” I beg to differ.
“Give me your wrists.”
“Look, I can imagine what you can do here. No need to—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
With a difficult swallow, I hold out my wrists.
Taking out the second cord of rope, he uses it to bind my wrists. “What can you imagine?”
“I can imagine a lot of pain and discomfort,” I say.
“From what?”
“From being stretched on the rack. I mean, do you really use that thing?”
“Not often, but I have.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why did it turn you on when I spanked you?”
My cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t ask to be spanked.”
“But you liked it.”
“I...” I don’t know. Did I like it? It hurt a little and was humiliating.
“Why did you like it?” he presses.
“It’s more accurate to say that I didn’t mind it, or that I was willing to put up with it because the rest of it felt so good.”
Done tying my wrists, he pulls me into him and says low into my ear, “I bet I could spank you till your ass is black and blue and you’d still come for me.”
That’s hard to believe.
“What did you call Aiko?” I ask. “A pain-slut? I’m not one of those.”
“Yet.”
“Cute,” I say wryly.
“You’re the cute one, Priscilla, all dressed up in rope for me.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“Don’t kid yourself. You would’ve agreed to it regardless.”
Would I have? Maybe...
He walks over to what looks like a light switch, only instead of turning on a light, flipping the switch makes a thick metal hook come down from the ceiling. He lowers the hook till it’s about a foot and a half above my head. Walking back to me, he raises my arms and fits my wrists over the hook. Then he goes back to the switch, raising the hook till I’m on my toes.
I watch as he circles me, eying me up and down like I’m a marble statue he’s assessing for purchase. He reaches for the rope cleaving my crotch and wiggles it.
