“Sit,” she says.
I do so instantly, staring up at her when she turns to the crowd again.
“Can I get another volunteer?”
My stomach dips at her words. For some reason I thought she’d be doing the tying. My eyes drift around the room to see several hands shoot up when the man with the nice suit and dark eyes follows suit, his gaze still heavily trained on me. I swallow at the intensity of it and the demonstrator seems to notice, smirking to herself as she points to him.
“You.”
He moves through the crowd easily, setting his now empty glass down onto a cocktail table before standing before me. His eyes are hooded, a deep hazel color now clearly visible. We are locked ineach other’s stare as the demonstrator continues speaking, though if I’m honest, I barely hear her.
“Good. Before beginning any kind of bondage play, it’s important to establish a connection, a trust. You have to be willing to give yourself completely to your partner and you have to be worthy of that gift. Some magnificent eye contact, a few soft touches and even a kiss can go a long way towards establishing that physical connection.”
As if her words were controlling him, he lifts a large hand up, cupping the side of my face as his thumb brushes against my bottom lip. Almost instinctually, he pulls it down further and further before letting it bounce free. In the next moment, he leans forward, stealing a kiss before I can even attempt to protest. Not like I would, have you seen him? He’s fucking gorgeous.
The softness of his lips steals my breath away as they demand entry that I so willingly give him. Our tongues wrap around one another, the sharp taste of his scotch now dancing across my tongue. His hold on me tightens, deepening the kiss as a sound akin to a growl tears through his chest. Butterflies are racing inside me as I lift a hand up to touch his face. He stops me in an instant, snatching my wrist with his free hand as he grips it tightly. The act of power and dominance has a rush of excitement running through me.
“Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m wet just watching these two. Are we in a bondage demonstration or the voyeur room because, phew,” the demonstrator laughs.
A round of chuckles echoes around us and we break apart in the next moment.
When we do, I stare up at him in a daze and he seems to be just as lost as I am. Like we both went somewhere else for a moment. He blinks a few times before swallowing roughly when the demonstrator begins.
“What we are going to do is tie each arm to a chair leg and eachleg. Cotton is best when we are just starting out,” she says as she hands him several strands of rope.
He releases his hold on me before moving behind me, taking my left hand and pressing it against the chair leg as the demonstrator explains in detail how to tie me up before moving to the next. I don’t miss the way he feels my left hand, like he’s checking for a ring before moving on. Something about it makes me smile as he moves around to the front of me, both of my hands completely pinned in place.
The man crouches down in front of me, his large hand grabbing my calf as he slowly pulls it to the front of one of the chair legs. He repeats the same tie he did on my hands but being able to see him do it is different. I’m not just feeling it. I’m fully experiencing it. The soft yet firm hold of the rope, his strong hands keeping my limbs in place. It has a dizzying effect on me and the little monster inside me craves more.
When he grabs my other leg, he pulls it slowly, my heel dragging against the hard floors with a scraping sound before he pauses. His eyes flick up to me before moving down between my legs. My dress has ridden up and all you can see now are my black lace panties that leave little to the imagination. He seems almost entranced for a moment, unable to look away before he snaps himself out of it, quickly tying my other leg until I’m fully subdued.
“Beautiful. Now, love, please try to pull on the restraints,” the demonstrator asks.
I do as she says, the man still crouched between my thighs, his eyes on my own as I pull.
“Do you see how they don’t self-tighten? The knots stay perfectly in place. This is exactly what you want to see. It can get very dangerous very quickly if you don’t get this part right.”
She goes on to give a few more tips and tricks before she faces me, smiling.
“How do you feel?”
“Good,” I whisper hoarsely, my eyes flicking between her and the man in front of me.
She smirks and looks to him. “How do you feel?”
He slowly pushes himself to stand, his hand tracing over my face before his hand digs into the back of my hair, tugging sternly.
“Good,” he rasps.
God that voice. It’s like butter melting against a hot pan. It’s smooth and rich and soaks my barely there panties in an instant.
“This position is great for oral or even interrogation play,” she continues on, facing the group.
I can’t stop my eyes from flicking at his slacks, a noticeable bulge straining against the fabric. A huge bulge at that. Holy shit.
Slowly, my gaze comes back to find him still staring down at me, his fist tightening and if I’m not mistaken, his hips come towards me, just an inch or so. His arms are shaking like it’s taking everything in him to hold back. I know the feeling because I’m practically vibrating in my chair.
A manicured hand lands on his shoulder, snapping us both out of our trance or whatever that just was.
