“Good girl.”
The praise hit harder than I expected as he stepped into the shadow before reaching his hand out to me.
I walked in here not quite sure I could give him control, and now, once again, I felt more alive than I ever had as I slipped my hand into his.
The moment our hands met, something in me melted.
“Come,” he said, and turned away from me. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t take my eyes off the odd chair and the straps.
He led me forward, the medieval-looking chair standing in front of us. Dark wood polished until it shines, leather straps lying neatly in place across the arm rests and legs. I’d seen one or two in my research, but this looked different. More real.
He turned me around and walked me back until my legs hit the edge of the chair. My breath hitched as he motioned for me to sit. The leather was impossibly cold against my hot skin.
I picked a spot on the floor and stared as he laid my arms against the chair and fastened the leather straps. One at my wrists, another above my elbow, followed by a final one holding my shoulders to the chair. When he was done, my entire upper body was immobile.
He lifted my chin. “Look at me, Pet.”
My eyes darted to his in surprise, disappointment filling me when I realized it was too dim in here to see his eye color.
“Color?”
I stared at him, not understanding the question. When he cocked his head and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, my brain caught up with the moment.
“Green, Sir.”
He pursed his lips together as he released my chin and moved down to my legs. He pulled them apart, binding my ankle, then my thighs before stepping back. A moment later, he moved around me and my world went black again as he slipped a blindfold over my eyes.
His lips brushed my ear.
“Color?”
“Green,” I said this time with no hesitation.
“Good,” he murmured, his breath on my skin.
The darkness not only quieted the never-ending voices in my head, but it sharpened everything. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I felt it.
He shuffled his steps as he circled me. Something clicked and the chair fell back, startling me, the gasp escaping me before I could hold it back.
“TSK, TSK, what are we going to do with you?”
My chest heaved. He wasn’t happy with me, and this didn’t sit well with me.
“Sorry—”
He placed his fingers over my lips, stopping me mid-word.
A squeak caught me off guard. Almost like a dog toy. He pushed something into my hand.
“Squeeze this.”
I obeyed. The same squeak sounded again.
A rubber ball. A squeaky toy.
I was confused.
“I’m going to gag you,” he said calmly. “So you will not be able to use your safe word.”
