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What does he want me to say? I could tell him I want to suck him off, but the timing doesn’t feel right. It might come off disingenuous.
“I-I deserve to be punished?” I try.
“You bet the fuck you do.”
I swallow with difficulty. He releases the rope and caresses my flesh.
“So how should you be punished?”
A thought crosses my mind. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“Where we are,” I answer. “There’s a BDSM club in downtown Denver. If we’re not too far…”
“We’re too far.”
“How far?”
He stares at me. I think he knows I’m trying to figure out our location.
He folds his arms in front of him. “What’s this BDSM club called?”
“Club Kink.”
“You been there?”
I shake my head.
“Then how do you know about it?”
“I was bored one day and was curious if Denver had that kind of scene.”
“I don’t believe you. How often did you play there?”
“I’ve never been there,” I insist truthfully. Even though I had looked it up, I couldn’t imagine playing with anyone but Darren.
He shakes his head. “I used to think you were such a goody two-shoes, someone trustworthy. Guess I was wrong. I hate being wrong.”
My toes come off the floor as he pulls the crotch rope up.
“Now let’s get back to your punishment,” he says. “Why don’t you start off with some ideas?”
Inwardly, I groan. I don’t want to answer his question. There are so many things that he can do, so many options in his arsenal. Bastinado is probably my least favorite, so I don’t want to offer up that suggestion. But he’ll know if I’m trying to lowball my punishment.
As if impatient for an answer, he tugs the crotch rope even higher.
“Nipple clamps?” I yelp. “A clothespin zipper? Making me blow you for hours on end?”
“Not bad. Let’s do them all. Along with my ideas, of course.”
My stomach feels queasy, but I’m encouraged that I’ll get to do the fellatio.
Stepping behind me, he unties my leg. My standing foot is so happy to have the other foot bear my weight for a change.
“Squat down,” he orders as he loosens the rope above my wrists.
I lower myself. He pushes me till my butt is touching my ankles, then spreads my thighs wide. With the cord of rope in his hands, he binds my upper leg to my calves. He retrieves another cord of rope and does the same to my other leg. With both legs bent and bound, I can’t run. The position pushes more of my weight towards my toes. I really wish I had never bought these damn shoes. I may refuse to wear heels the rest of my life.
