Over open air.
To get handcuffs.
So I can restrainmyself.
And wait for him to come punish me.
I crawl to the edge of the plank. Test it with one hand. It doesn't move. Solid. Bolted down, probably. Safe.
Probably.
He never said I had to stand. Well, walk the plank kind of implies it. But there was no rule against crawling.
Don't look down.
I let out a breath and inch forward.
You're not going to fall.
I make it to the box. Flip the latch. Inside there are black leather cuffs lined with soft padding.
I grab them, turn around, drop to my knees, and crawl slowly back across the plank. A bird flies through the trees, scaring the fuck out of me, and I wobble. My fingers grip the plank tight.
Calm down, Scarletta. You're three feet away. Three feet away…
I hold my breath, gripping the wood so tight, I can feel the splinters breaking my skin. But slowly, I cross that last bit of distance and reach the beam.
I blow out a breath… this is it.
The moment where I can still choose to climb back down. To walk away. To sayno, this is insane, I'm not doing this.
But I don't want to walk away.
I want to bend over this beam and wait for him.
I want to feel his hand on my ass. His voice in my ear. His control wrapping around me like a second skin.
I want to surrender.
I buckle the right ankle cuff around myself first. Clip it to the eyebolt. Test the hold.
Secure.
Then I bend forward over the beam, the wood pressing against my stomach, my ass lifted and exposed to the open air.
To the cameras.
To him.
I reach back with my left hand and buckle the wrist cuff. Stretch my arm to clip it to the second eyebolt.
The lock clicks into place.
I'm trapped.
Restrained. Helpless. Waiting.
Exactly where he wants me.
