I gulped.
A gag?
My pulse kicked hard, thudding against the leather strap across my thigh. My fingers tightened around the squeaky toy, ridiculous, humiliating but suddenly the most important thing.
“I—”
The word barely left me before his fingers brushed my cheek, quieting me.
“You will usethatinstead,” he said, voice low, calm, absolute. “One squeeze for yellow. Two for red.”
My lungs tightened. The gag would take my voice. The blindfold had already taken my sight. The straps held my body exactly where he wanted it. I couldn’t move. I was totally at his mercy.
All I had left was my breath and a cheap little rubber squeaker.
“Color?”
I shifted slightly in my seat, not able to do much but just sit there. “Green, Sir.” He could fuck me right now and not only would I let him, but he’d probably slide right in.
My breath hitched. My thighs would have pressed together if they weren’t secured open for him.
“Do you understand?”
I went to nod but couldn’t move my head. He chuckled, a sound that went straight to my core.
“Words.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, the words shaking but clear.
He released my jaw, and the chair shifted again beneath me as he adjusted something behind my head. The click of metal, the soft drag of leather. He was prepping the gag — the knowledge made my chest expand and tighten all at once.
He wasn’t punishing me. That didn’t seem like that was what this was.
He was taking me deeper.
“Good girl,” he murmured, and the praise warmed my soul.
The blindfold made everything sharper. Louder. The faint brush of fabric as he lifted something — the gag, presumably — felt like a cold draft against my skin.
He tapped it lightly against my bottom lip.
“Open for me.”
My mouth parted instantly, instinctively. The silicone pressed against my tongue, filling my mouth just enough to steal the ability to speak but not enough to suffocate.
I whimpered as he buckled it behind my head, the leather cinching snug against my hairline.
Helplessness washed over me like heat.
“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, fingers brushing my cheek, tracing the edge of the gag strap. “Perfect.”
I gripped the squeaky toy tighter, the rubber giving under my palm.
“You feel vulnerable now, don’t you?” he asked, voice a quiet stroke across my ear.
I hummed, not able to move my head. I was helpless. He’d taken my voice.
“Good,” he whispered. “You give more of yourself when you’re vulnerable. And tonight…”
