62. Natalie

62

NATALIE

A dam moves around me, and I shiver as his fingers brush the nape of my neck. He unzips my dress slowly. It falls to the floor, heavy with sequins, and I step carefully out of it.

‘Turn around.’

He may be the one calling the shots here, but I’ve never felt so potent as I do in this quiet room with every last ounce of this powerful man’s attention trained on me, every bit of desire for me .

I stand before him in a black lace bra, matching suspender belt and fine fishnet stockings, all courtesy of a productive trip to La Perla yesterday with Adam. I’m still in my Chanel heels, but even so he towers above me.

I want to ask, like what you see? But the stark hunger on his face makes the question redundant.

‘Just perfect,’ he murmurs, and reaching around, he unhooks my bra. I shiver again as he slides the straps down my arms and the lace cups snag on my taut nipples. His white tie lies flat against his shirt, just the way I left it, and a dark curl has escaped his Twenties-style slicked-back hairdo. He is a sight for sore eyes, and he’s going to unleash himself on me at any moment.

He moves to stand next to the bench. ‘Now, sweetheart. This bench has been designed specifically for naughty girls just like you, who need to be punished and need to be fucked. I want you to watch me cuff you, and then I’ll put your blindfold on.’ He bends and slaps the main, upper padded part hard, and I jump. ‘Up you get.’

I approach the contraption with caution. He’s right—it’s not a huge departure from what we’ve already done—but there’s something about its very intentionality that has my heart thudding inside my rib cage. I place a knee on one of the lower sections. It looks like they’re adjustable, and they’ve been widened, presumably to give Adam as much access as he wants to my pussy. The thought of being tied down and spread open for him like this has my core pulsing.

Once I have both knees on, I hinge forward, lowering myself down onto its padded top. The leather smells old and rich, and its cold smoothness is heaven against my poor, taut nipples. It must be, what, a hundred years old? I wonder how many women have been bent over and cuffed and defiled on this thing. The stories it could tell.

I lay my forearms down on the front two sections and rest my forehead on the horseshoe-shaped front part of the main section—it’s not unlike the head rests you find on massage tables. Those kinky Victorians, or whoever made this, definitely knew what they were doing. This thing was ergonomic before it became a corporate buzzword. It’s perfectly designed to take my weight, to support me in this weird, prone, exposed position. The leather is slippery, but I suppose once the restraints are on, I’ll feel completely secure.

Good Lord. I really like this .

‘I cannot begin to tell you,’ Adam says, crouching behind me to fasten the big leather restraint around my right ankle, ‘how fucking delectable you look right now, sweetheart. Your holes are so enticing. They’re right there. The things I could do to this beautiful body of yours.’

‘You can do them all,’ I tell him, which is probably reckless, but I’m past caring. I want him to do all the things.

Sure enough, he tuts. ‘Brave words from a girl who’s about to be totally fucking captive.’

He makes swift work of my other three restraints. ‘Test them for me,’ he orders, and I do, flexing my feet and attempting to pull my hands through the wrist cuffs. They all hold firm, and I have a fleeting feeling of claustrophobia—or maybe it’s just straightforward panic at being trussed up like this.

‘Good,’ he says. There’s the sound of the cupboard behind me being pulled open and some tinkering noises, and then Adam’s in front of me again, crouching down to eye level, those pale blue eyes positively blazing with intensity, with the promise of the acts he intends to perform on me. ‘I’ve got some props. The blindfold, but also a carrot and a stick, if you like.’

The carrot is a girthy-looking vibrator, or dildo, maybe? I’m never sure of the difference. Holy shit. It’s black and dick-like, with mean veins running over its surface and a hooked part that I assume works on the clit, while the stick is some sort of wide leather paddle, again black. Adam slaps it against his palm, and I can see that it has some give in it.

‘They both look like sticks to me,’ I mutter, because come on. What was that this is nothing we haven’t done before spiel? This guy is moving the goalposts at a dizzying rate.

He raises his two dark eyebrows. ‘Do you have a word you’d like to say? ’

I glare mutinously at him. No way am I giving him the satisfaction. ‘No.’

He smiles. ‘Good girl. You can always say it if you need it. But no bitching and moaning. The paddle is just a cleaner way to spank you, and I promise you’ll be fucking gagging for this piece of silicon once I start.’ He moves his mouth to my ear, his warm breath and ominous words sending a shower of goosebumps over my neck. ‘It’s just the warm-up act while you wait for the real thing.’

With that promise, he wraps the blindfold around my head, tying it at the back, and my visual world goes black as sensation steps up to take its place. Adam’s footsteps slap against the polished concrete floor as he walks around to my rear. I imagine what he’s seeing, and I almost blush.

My limbs, restrained in leather cuffs.

My bottom, bared for him except for the black suspender straps bisecting both cheeks.

My most private parts on full display.

It all feels so shameful, but in a really good way, a way that has desire roiling in my stomach and beating out a tattoo between my legs. My breathing sounds louder to me, thanks to the blindfold pulled tightly over my ears. The smooth leather beneath my body isn’t quite padded enough to be comfortable, and that discomfort lends an edge that isn’t quite humiliation but probably isn’t far off.

Oddest of all, I’m feeling as though I want to lean into that feeling of… vulnerability, I suppose. Of exposure. Of putting my entire helpless, aroused self in Adam’s seriously capable hands. Of being shown off and torn open and spanked and prodded and played with and fucked, and…

My breath is coming quicker. This is a fantasy I absolutely didn’t know I had, but as it plays out around me, real and vibrant, I can feel how badly I want to give myself over to it. I want Adam to know he can push me tonight, that he can listen to his judgement when it comes to what I’d like. He knows me better than I know myself in bed, it seems.

‘You can open the curtains,’ I burst out.

‘Seriously?’ His voice sounds curt with all that unleashed desire.

‘Yeah. I want people to see what you do to me.’ I pause. ‘I want them to see how completely I trust you.’ My voice sounds strangled.

‘You’re a beautiful, beautiful woman,’ he says, dropping a kiss on my shoulder blade. ‘And your trust is my most prized possession. You won’t regret it.’ I hear him move to the viewing window and tug the curtains, their old-fashioned brass hooks rattling as they drag across the pole.

‘Mic on?’

‘Sure,’ I reply carelessly. ‘Why not?’

Tonight represents so many firsts for me it’s not funny, but who cares? I’m in a city where no one knows who I am, far away from my place of work.

Let them look.

Let them listen.

The bench is angled away from the window at forty-five degrees, which means anyone watching or passing should be able to see my pussy, assuming Adam doesn’t block their view the whole time. But what matters is that I’m blindfolded and the window is a mirror on this side. It’s not like he or I will know if people are watching or not. The fact that they may be watching Adam do what he wants with me, shatter me to pieces so skilfully and put me back together like I know he will, adds enough of a frisson for me.

I wait, and the first sensation comes.

A breeze between my legs.