Page 36 of Blue Velvet

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, master.”

The pressure on my arms eases immediately, and I sigh in relief, the rush still accelerating my heart rate. To my surprise, he unfastens the ropes completely. I don’t even think to fight him, letting my limbs relax when he lets go of me. I feel like a fool when I breathe in his scent as he bends over me, reaching for the hem of my shirt and slowly pulling it up and over my head, while I obediently raise my arms to help him.

I even moan when he touches my exposed breasts, cupping them almost lovingly before he squeezes them forcefully, with need. His eyes hungrily travel along my upper body, a focused expression on his face as he contemplates his next move.

His hands leave my body, and I watch as he fiddles with the rope, calmly rolling it up in his hands.

“Stretch out your arms and cross your wrists,” he commands.

My hands are visibly shaking when I oblige and hold out my arms toward him. I cross my wrists and observe his skillful dexterity as he closes the rope around them, quickly fastening expert knots to tie my hands together.

He gets up from the mattress and pulls at the rope, beckoning me to follow him. “Get up.”

I get to my feet and stumble behind him, and he leads me over to that damn stretching bench. My heart sinks at the idea of being tied up on that thing again, but as it turns out, that’s not his plan at all. Instead, we circle the bench, leaving me wondering what our actual destination could be. He turns around to look at me, visibly enjoying the view of me walking behind him, my tits exposed and my wrists tied. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, and I’m pretty sure that I’m about to lose those, as well.

He pulls me away from the stretching bench and finally shows me where we’re headed. We have never used the leathery bondage horse before, and despite everything, I can’t help but feel excited when he tells me to climb on it.

“Not perfect, because I don’t get to see your perfect tits,” he comments, as I position myself. “But it will have to do for right now, toy.”

I cast him a look that lets him know I have nothing in the way of a reply to that, and he lets it pass.

It’s a rather small piece of furniture, and even with my short body, it allows me to put my tied-up wrists over the edge at the top while still having my ass exposed on the other end. I’m pretty sure this is no coincidence, because this way he can fuck me from both sides, if that’s his wish. He positions my knees to his liking before he comes around to the front, never letting go of the rope binding my hands.

He looks at me as if to confirm that I’m okay, but he doesn’t say a word. My eyes follow him when he falls to his knees in front of me and quickly fastens the rope around the legs of the furniture. It’s obvious that he’s very experienced with rope, and I like that about him. I’ve always enjoyed the sight of a man who knows what he’s doing.

Even though his skills could mean a lot of trouble for me.

The thought sends chills down my spine. The realization comes back to me in flashes, reminding me of the danger I’m in, but only for as long as I allow my mind to go there. I let out a desperate sigh, causing him to cast me a questioning look.

“I want to enjoy this,” I say. “I want to, because I really need this. But I’m scared...”

My voice fails me once again, and I’m capable of nothing but a pleading gaze when he reaches for my face, squeezing my cheeks with one hand tilting my head back to face him. The look on his face remains neutral, unreadable - until his lips turn up into a subtle smile.

“Good,” he says simply.

He gets back up on his feet. “It’ll be easier for you if you don’t fight me.”

Easier. I never wanted easy. I’m not a brat, but I’ve always enjoyed teasingly fighting back to whatever was asked of me. Punishment didn’t come with the same sweet taste if I didn’t deserve it.

With him, things are different. I don’t know how far he’s willing to go, I don’t know his limits, or if he has any, and he might cross my hard limits because he doesn’t even know what they are.

Yes, he could do that. But somehow I don’t think he would intentionally. It strikes me as odd that I still trust him in this regard, but the way he held back when I begged him not to slap my face gave me confidence. He listened then because he could tell that he was about to do something wrong. Back then I thought it was because he remembered the contract he signed, but now that I know he’s not the one who signed it, I’m inclined to think he can sense when he’s going too far, when things are getting too real for me.

On the other hand, isn’t that exactly what he wants? Something real?

“Toy,” he calls to me. He’s now standing behind me. I didn’t even notice that he’d moved.

“Yes,” I breathe, trying to look back over my shoulder, but I can’t bend far enough with my hands tied to the legs of the bondage horse.

I yelp in surprise when his hand lands on my behind with a sudden slap.

“Yes, master,” I correct myself.

“Defiance calls for correction,” he says, and I jerk again when I can feel something cold on my upper thigh, just where my shorts end. “You know that, right?”

“Yes, master,” I reply, wondering what he’s about to do.

---