Page 32 of Vienna Bargain

“You chose this,” he said again, and he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, himself or her.

He grabbed her other leg, using the second roll of wrap to bind that limb as he had the first.

When he was done she didn’t say anything, even when he grabbed her hands, which she’d laid protectively over her breasts, and forced them away.

Once more he reached into the tray, pulling out some of the remaining chains, shorter than the first ones, and created wrist cuffs. When he fastened these back on themselves, he left short tails, which he in turn connected to the tight chain around her midsection.

It was unlike her to be so quiet, or to close her eyes, but she’d done both. That meant she didn’t see when he picked up a pair of gold clamps.

She felt it when he placed the first one on her labia, the plump, slick flesh cruelly compressed under the metal which he’d deliberately tightened before applying. Her soft cry sounded wet, almost as if she were holding back tears.

He wasn’t the villain, she was, and he wouldn’t be manipulated.

The second clamp went on her other labia, the weight of them enough to spread her sex open, exposing the hidden pink flesh of her core.

He adjusted the chains around her thighs so there was enough slack for him to hook the loop at the end of the clamp to the chain, pulling her labia out to the side. She tried to close her legs, to lessen the pull, but he forced her knees open, wider even than before, until she cried out.

When he stepped back she didn’t repeat her mistake and try to close her legs. Though he could see her muscles trembling with the desire to do so, she remained submissively spread, her pussy lips stretched out, her clit vulnerable and exposed.

Seeing her like this calmed him, and when he reached for her sex, he was gentle, caressing her inner labia, slipping a single finger into her and curling it to hit her G-spot.

She seemed to relax back into the bed, her lips parting, head turning slightly to the side. The light caught the glimmer of moisture on her temple, where her tears had run from the corners of her eyes into her hair.

Alexander leaned over her again, his cock pressing against her spread sex as he stretched and licked the tears from her skin. He glided his mouth from her temple to her ear.

Below him she tensed, breasts rising to press against his chest as she took and then held a breath.

There were things he wanted to say, and things he could say. They were not the same things.

And so he said nothing. Instead he took her earlobe in his mouth, biting gently, before moving south down her helpless body.

“My quiet man,” she said, so low and soft he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard her right.

The feel of her pussy, the heat and wetness, both of which were apparent even through his pants, ignited his arousal, which had been subservient to his dominant side’s need to truss her up, to render her helpless.

But he wouldn’t take her with his cock. Though she’d chosen this, taken his bargain, her words—that she expected torture and rape from him—had created a barrier, a line in the sand he would not cross for his own sake, if not for hers.

Unfortunately for her, his moral compass did not point true north, and he felt nothing but satisfaction as he once more slipped his fingers into her.

He worked her pussy, the heel of his hand pressed just below her clit as two fingers pumped in and out. Then he lowered his head to her breasts, flicking the captured nipples with his tongue.

“Please,” she moaned.

“Please what?”

“Please, Sir.”

He smiled against her, rewarded her with a long lick that dampened her skin. “I wasn’t reminding you of your manners. What do you want?”

“I want more.”

“More pain?”

“No…maybe.”

“Maybe?” He bit her nipple, gradually adding pressure until she cried out. He’d had to bite her far harder than anticipated to elicit that response.

She was aroused, reaching that point where her body craved pleasure as much as pain. She might not be a masochist in the truest sense, at least as far as BDSM standards of the word were concerned, but she craved pain when the scene was right.

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