The cuffs close around my wrists, and I’m stripped down to my red lingerie. It’s one of the sets I bought with this moment in mind, but I wasn’t convinced I’d actually go through with it until now. More women have joined and six pairs of eyes watch from the shadows, their presence both thrilling and terrifying.
I’m standing in the center of the room where a chain hangs from the ceiling. My cuffed hands are raised above my head and secured to that chain, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. The position forces me up onto my toes and my back arches slightly, pushing my chest forward.
Athena circles me slowly. The click of her loafers on hardwood marks each rotation, building anticipation. Her fingers trail across my shoulders, down my spine, raising gooseflesh in their wake. Her touch is light but deliberate—she’s marking her territory, showing everyone that I belong to her in this moment.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs, and though the word is meant for me, it carries to our audience. My cheeks flush at the praise, at beingdisplayed like this.
“This is your first time,” she says, raising her voice so our observers can hear. “Are you scared?”
“Yes,” I whisper truthfully. In my professional life, I never show weakness. But here, with Athena, honesty feels like its own kind of strength.
Her hand cups my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Don’t be. Use your safe word if you want to stop. Otherwise…” She leans close, her lips brushing my ear as she gropes my behind and pulls me against her. “You’re mine.”
The possessiveness in her voice makes me shiver. This is what I’ve been craving—the freedom to let someone else take control. To surrender.
Athena steps back, and the loss of her touch is immediate. She retrieves something from a nearby table—a silk blindfold that she slides over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. My other senses heighten instantly. I hear the rustle of her suit as she moves, smell her subtle perfume, feel the air stir against my exposed skin.
Two women whisper an exchange. A reminder that I’m being watched.
“You’re trembling,” Athena observes, her voice carrying that hint of amusement I’m learning to recognize. Her fingers trace the edge of my garter belt. “You’ve been fantasizing about this, haven’t you?” she asks, circling behind me again. “All those nights watching from your window. Imagining what happens here.”
Something cold trails down my spine—silk or leather, I can’t tell which. The sensation makes me arch, pulling against the restraints. Athena hums in approval, and the sound goes straight through me. Even blindfolded, I can picture her expression—that mix of desire and control that makes her so magnetic.
“Well, you’re about to find out…” She pauses. “The hard way.” The thing now trails down between my breasts and I suspect it might be a riding crop. Without sight, I can only track her movements by sound and the anticipation builds with each passing second. It continues over my left breast and then it stops at the edge of my bra. Athena unclasps it, causing my breast to spill out underneath.
She drags the crop farther down, skimming my nipple. I gasp at the contact, then cry out as she suddenly strikes the side of my breast.
I gasp at the unexpected sting, my breath hitching in my throat. The pain pulses, forcing me to confront the rush of conflicting emotions spiraling inside me. Is this what I wanted? The answer is slow to form, tinged with uncertainty as I wrangle my reaction.
It’s not so much the pain that overwhelms me, it’s not knowing when it’s coming. If only I could see, I’d be more in control, but isn’t that the whole point? The sting lingers, sharp and electrifying, but she leaves me little time to process, striking me again, against my nipple this time, sending another wave of sensations crashing through me.
“Fuck!” I yell, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth.
“Remember, you have a safe word,” she murmurs.
I hesitate for a beat, then shake my head.
“I can’t hear you,” she says, raising her voice.
“No,” I answer. “I’m fine.”
Another quick and harder strike against my nipple, and a rush of adrenaline leaves me dizzy. My skin is sore and glowing, but the pain is contradicted by other sensations. The line between pleasure and pain blurs when I realize I’m wet and throbbing. I mentally brace myself for what comes next, but before I can gather my thoughts, Athena wraps her arms around me, pulls me in and encloses her lipsaround my sore nipple. The soft, enveloping heat contrasts beautifully with the sting, soothing the ache and sending shards of pleasure through me. I let out an involuntary whimper, my body reacting instinctively to the sensation. Arching toward her, I’m tiptoed, practically hanging from my cuffs.
She swirls her tongue gently, a balm against the sharpness that lingers. I’m wholly responsive to her every move.
Forgetting about my audience, I let go of any hesitation and surrender completely to the moment. It’s as though every rational thought has been stripped away, leaving behind only raw emotion and instinct. I drown in the sensations—each flicker of pain and pleasure serving to heighten my awareness of her, of myself, of the space we occupy together.
Athena pulls away and lets go of me, and just like that, I’m back to where I started. Uncertain, nervous, vulnerable, and trembling in anticipation of what will happen. It’s an emotional roller coaster. I miss the certainty of the contact, of knowing where she was.
Clenching my teeth, I hold my breath and just when I think that maybe this is it and she’ll stop as it’s my first time, the crop lands on my behind with a hard smack. I think I groan or hiss or something, but it’s all a blur, overshadowed by the throbbing pain on my right ass cheek.
She strikes me again and again, alternating between softer and harder, longer and shorter pauses until my breath comes in ragged gasps and I’m not sure how much more I can take.
I’m so wet; my body betrays my arousal. In the darkness behind the blindfold, every sensation is magnified. The tightness of the Velcro cuffs, the stretch in my shoulders, the way my legs tremble with the effort of stayingtiptoed. But most of all, I feel Athena’s presence—commanding, controlled, completely in charge of my pleasure.
“More?” she asks, as if sensing my inner turmoil.
When I don’t answer immediately, she runs her hand over my behind, caressing my sore skin. Her touch feels grounding, soothing, and it calms the storm inside me. “Let’s take a moment, shall we?” she whispers in my ear.
