They went on tighter than she preferred. Not protest wrong, just more than she would have chosen.
He rolled her on her stomach, which was uncomfortable with her clamped nipples pressed between her body and the floor. Her hair tie went next, replaced it with one of his own, connecting her now-too-tight ponytail to the other restraints. Fully immobilized, with her neck craned sharply back, she tried shifting, but felt the pull in her breasts, hair, and wrists. He didn’t seem inclined to adjust it.
Julia breathed through the discomfort. Not pain just yet, but yellow was a very near thing. She couldn’t get more restrained than a hogtie, could she? And let it play out.
His attention drifted, less focused, less attuned. And he said nothing. No checking in, no teasing, no commands, only his accelerated breathing.
He rolled her onto her side again then came the crop. Tapping sharply everywhere. Belly, thighs, breasts, her cheek. That was startling. Next, he slid the shaft between her breasts and lifted the chain, pulling until her spine arched to relieve the pressure.
“Perfect. Stay just like that.”
She heard him unzip and the obvious sound of his hand working. She hadn’t specifically ruled it out but thought coming on her was part of “no sex.”
Instinctively, she pulled against the restraints.
“I said be still,” he barked, the crop coming down sharply on her breast and her hip.
Julie sucked in a breath at the lines of fire left behind. But she cut it off when pain pierced her clamped nipples.
She hadn’t imagined any of this and certainly wasn’t getting any pleasure from it. She didn’t mind giving; she was a pleasure sub, that was her thing. But there was no connection, barely any communication. If he had mentioned he was seeking only objectification, she would have politely declined.
“Sir, please… This is too much.”
“And I sure as hell didn’t give you permission to speak!”
Julia drew a breath, ready to shout her safeword, but his hand closed around her throat. She choked out, “Stop—” That’s all she managed, nothing moved in or out, especially not air.
Bound hand, foot, and hair, her struggles were futile. Spots appeared before her eyes.
“When I give you an order, slut. You follow it,” he growled in her ear.
“Hey!” A woman’s voice cut sharply through the haze. “Extreme isn’t okay here.”
“I heard her say stop,” someone else said.
The pressure eased enough for Julia to drag in a rasping breath, but his hand didn’t leave her throat.
“Get out of here,” he snapped. “You’re ruining my scene.”
“Good,” the first woman replied without even flinching.
Rachel. Julia recognized her now.
“Roman!” she shouted. “We need some help over here.”
Footsteps thudded hard across the floor. A man cut through the noise with quiet authority. “It’s over.” Then, as if to others, “Shut it down.”
The pressure vanished instantly. Julia heard a scuffle as she gulped in air. Several hands worked quickly to release her restraints.
“What the hell were you doing, Parker?” Roman demanded.
“The scene we negotiated. She didn’t use her safeword,” Parker said defensively.
“How was she supposed to with your hand on her throat?” Rachel asked, supporting Julia’s body weight when she was freed.
“Ever heard of a safe signal, dipshit?” one woman sneered.
“That wasn’t breath play,” another dom said sharply. “It was panic.”
