He keeps me pinned with his imposing gaze as he tugs on the rope, pulling my arms upward. When they’re fully extended above me, he loops the length over the wooden beam of the canopy. Another short tug forces me to stretch until I’m almost on my toes.
His chuckle rumbles with dark amusement at my predicament as he ties off his work, leaving me bound and naked except for my black cotton thong. He takes his time to study me, as though I’m not even a person. I’m a pretty thing for him to admire, a work of art that he possesses to view whenever it pleases him.
The sense of being objectified should be shameful, possibly even offensive. But I’m molten for him, my entire being burning for more of his cruel attention. As long as he’s looking at me, I have value. Without his imperious gaze on me, I would be insignificant: a cheap replicated print not worthy of notice.
But he’s looking at me as though I’m his coveted masterpiece, his most treasured possession.
“Exquisite,” he praises, and I sigh in bliss.
I’ve been so enamored with him that I didn’t notice what he placed on the bed before he bound me. He reaches past me to pick up the cane, and my stomach flips.
He touches the cool rod to my belly, using it to pin my bound body to his front. His erection presses into my ass, huge and insistent.
I writhe—equal parts need and fear.
“Are you scared yet, Abigail?” His dark question ruffles my hair as he practically coos into my ear.
“Yes,” I admit on a tremulous whisper. I don’t dare lie to him when I’m in this vulnerable position.
“Good. Pets should fear their master’s retribution. And you’ve more than earned mine.” He touches my inner thigh, and his fingers swirl in silken wetness. “You love the fear. You love being at my mercy, my pretty plaything.”
“Yes.” I release the affirmation on a shuddering sigh: a confession offered up from the deepest, darkest part of my soul.
He nuzzles my hair and inhales deeply, as though he’s breathing in the scent of my wanton arousal.
“I’m going to hurt you now. Do you trust me?”
“I do.” It’s an oath, and I let my head fall to the side, further exposing my throat to his teeth. “I want you to.”
They graze my artery as he commands, “Beg.”
“Please hurt me.” My plea is little more than a desperate whimper.
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead and pulls away. Cool air closes over my exposed body, and I shiver in anticipation. My heart flutters against my ribcage in rapid beats—a bruising promise of the pain that is to come.
He’s behind me now, and my upraised arms are like blinkers on either side of my head. I can’t see him without twisting my bound body, and I can barely maintain my balance as it is. So, I remain perfectly still, taut as a bowstring. Apprehension anddesire coil my muscles tight, and sweat beads on my brow as though I’m enduring physical strain.
The first tap of the cane draws a yelp from my chest, and it takes me a second to process that the hit isn’t painful. Another tap: a firm, bouncing pressure against my ass. Heat blooms beneath the surface of my skin, a prickling warmth that sinks deep into my tender flesh. The cane is a hard, unyielding rod against my soft body, but he’s using it with deft precision. Each short strike sends a fresh wave of warmth thudding through me, rippling into my core.
He paints my upper thighs with carnal heat, until I’m simmering in lust.
I’m a being of pure sensation, and I lose myself in him. All that exists is his will and the light pain he inflicts, granting me the greatest high I’ve ever known. The pain sparkles like fireworks, crackling through my nervous system. My mind relaxes in a way I’ve never experienced, and all thoughts float away.
“Suffer for me, Abigail.”
His dark command is my only warning. The cane lashes me in the first true, punitive blow. A line of fire blazes across my tender flesh, and I release a shocked cry.
“One,” he intones, and I scramble to process that fact that he’s counting. There will be more.
“Dane…” His name is a tremulous plea. My ass is smarting, and my tight muscles are beginning to strain from maintaining the stress position.
“You lied to me,” he reminds me. “Don’t you want your punishment?”
My eyes burn, and my head dips in shame. “Yes.”
He hums his approval. “Four more.”
My next breath hitches on a soft sob, but I nod. I’ll accept whatever he wants to do to me. I want to be his more than I need oxygen, and I will offer myself to him in every way.
