But this night is different. He’s serious, not at all playful, and ready to punish me.
Do I have a choice?
I go to the room and strip out of my clothes, leaving them in a basket in the bathroom, before I go to the post and grip it. What will he do?
Honestly? He could do anything.
I’m nervous as hell, waiting in here, and he takes his sweet time about it. I hear him on the phone, then he walks through the room opening windows and doors. What on earth is he looking for? My arms begin to ache, my shoulders burning from holding this position, when he finally comes in the room.
“Good girl,” he says. “Still feel like mouthing off?”
I frown and shake my head. I don’t understand why I’m here. Did I push it too far? But I hardly did a thing.
“Good,” he says. “I’m not in the mood to fight you tonight.”
Walking around to the bedside table, which I’ve since learned houses a variety of kinky things, he takes out various items in black and red. He has so many things in his hands, I can’t differentiate any. He tosses them onto the bed and comes to my side.
“Close your eyes, little detka,” he says. I obey. He pulls something scratchy but soft over the top of my head, and it takes effort not to pop my eyes open. “This is a lace hood,” he says. “It will keep you quiet and humble, and it’s very pretty.”
I try to open my mouth, but the fabric presses up against my lips. “I should’ve known you’d want to cover my face,” I mutter petulantly. I don’t think he’ll actually hear me, because he’s playing with the other toys on the bed, but to my surprise he responds.
“On the contrary, Caroline,” he says. “There is no one whose face I’d rather see. But tonight, I want you deprived or your senses so you can focus.” I gasp when cold nips at my breasts, but I can’t see what he’s doing since I’m still wearing the hood.
“I’ll tell you everything I use before I use it,” he promises. “This is a lace sensory deprivation hood. Next up, a pair of cuffs.”
My wrists are quickly secured.
“And a pair of nipple clamps.”
I freeze, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s putting… what? On my what?
Standing in front of me, he holds something in his hands that between the pattern of lace on the mask, looks like a metal chain with little clips at the end.
Over the past few weeks, he’s been almost gentle with me. Our lovemaking is intense, and he occasionally slaps my ass, but he’s been gentler.
I wonder if it’s odd that I miss his dominating me.
But it looks like that’s about to change. Now, for some reason, it looks like he might’ve pulled out all the stops. I stop breathing for a moment when the cold, painful metal anchors on the most delicate part of my body. “Oh God,” I moan. “Ohhhh.”
But he quickly replaces the pain with pleasure when he gently tugs the chain between the two clamps. It hurts, but my pussy pulses with need, aching for release and pressure, just from the heaviness of the clamps.
“How does that feel?” he asks.
“Painful.” I’m gasping, writhing, the hood blocking my vision but letting me breathe, and it’s all a little much.
“Good.”
Good? He thinks it’s good that I’m in pain?
“Tomas…” but my words fade when something wet and slick glides along my ass. Oh my God. I gasp when he pushes a plug through the tight ring of muscle. I’m instantly full, and it’s as if someone’s pushed a button that makes me submit. I couldn’t defy him right now if I tried.
My hands grasp the wooden edge of the bed post, my grip tightening when he moves behind me. He’s clamped and plugged me. The hood allows me to breathe, but I can’t do much more than that. My vision’s blurred, my ability to speak muted.
I can see him pacing around me. He’s shrugged out of his suit coat and stands in front of me with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He holds something in his hand obscured by the lacy hood. Running it along his palm, he paces around me.
“Beautiful,” he says. “You’re simply gorgeous trussed up like this.”
I wonder what’s happened that’s pushed him to control me. Does he gain something by acting out his sadistic impulses? He must. He already looks calmer, even through the limited vision the hood affords. I know without him having to tell me, that he needs to master me. Dominate me. That whatever’s happened today has pushed him to this.
Fortunately for me, I love when he does just that, even if I fight it.
“You’ll be punished for disrespecting me in front of the kitchen staff,” he says.