Page 51 of Vienna Bargain

“Stand still and accept your punishment.”

“I’m not going to walk when you order me to, like a fucking animal.”

“You will, because I am your Dom.” Now his voice was hot. Anger or arousal?

He’d said Dom, not Master.

Alexander forced her to walk by pressing his fist into her back between her shoulder blades and shoving her forward. When they reached the desk, he bent her over it, a forgotten pen digging into one of her bound and aching breasts.

He released the tails of rope and grabbed her wrists, forcing them to the small of her back.

Then he stepped to the side and started to spank her. After just a few swats she was crying and kicking her feet at the fresh pain to her abused ass.

But when her feet were on the floor she spread them, because the pain, the domination, was also desperately arousing. She wanted him to spank her pussy. Wanted him to notice how submissive she was being—even as she struggled against him—and reward her for it.

Alexander leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “Think you can behave, or do you need my belt?”

God, she wanted that, wanted him to take off his belt, double it over, and spank her like she was some disobedient 1950s housewife. It would hurt so fucking much with her ass already bruised from the spoon.

And she still wanted it. Maybe wanted it even more than she would have before because of how much it would hurt. There was a point at which arousal was dangerous because like any drug or mind-altering substance it impaired decision-making. It was why submissives had to trust their Doms. Trust that the men and women they chose to top them would be sober enough to know where their subs’ limits were, even if the subs themselves did not.

“No, I have other plans for this ass,” Alexander whispered.

When he released her wrists, Alena kept her hands in place at the small of her back, lacing her fingers together so she didn’t have to actively hold her hands there, but could rest her arm muscles.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, running an approving hand down her ass and continuing the caress south to mid-thigh. When he reversed course, his hand slid to the inside, his fingers brushing her sex gently, before delicately parting her labia.

He tugged her pussy lips a few times, never touching her clit, then wiped his hand on her butt.

“You will remain like this. You will not move,” he ordered.

Then Alexander walked to the bookcase, opened the hidden door, and disappeared down the steps.

Alena’s mind snapped from submissive lust-haze to focused shock. He’d left her alone in his office.

That isn’t all that surprising. He didn’t spend the night in here, and he said the doors weren’t locked, so at any time you could have come upstairs and looked for a phone.

Still, her heart was hammering against her ribs.

There was no convenient landline sitting on the corner of a desk, and there was also a conspicuous lack of a computer.

If she didn’t at least look for something, did that make her complicit in the situation?

But she hadn’t looked last night, she hadn’t done much to change her situation except prop the door open to alleviate some of the feeling of being trapped.

Then there was the fact that this had to be a trap or test of some kind. Alexander wanted to see what she’d do. Did that mean that he had been here all night? Or had a camera in the room so he could watch to see if she made an escape attempt?

It was rare that she was so indecisive, and she didn’t like the feeling.

Alexander emerged from the darkness behind the bookcase and closed the door. She could feel him looking at her as he made his way over.

“No attempts to call for help?” He asked quietly.

That bastard. It had been a test.

Alena ground her teeth, but said, “Why would I, Master Alexander? After all, I agreed to our bargain.”

He set something on the desk, just in front of her face. A large metal hook, in the shape of a fish hook, but where the barbed point would have been there was a large silver ball.