Her eyes are wide with questions when she seeks my gaze. “What is this?”
Her question echoes through the room unanswered, while I continue to fasten the shackles around her other wrist and ankles. Her breathing accelerates, causing her whole body to move in strong heaves.
“What are you going to do?”
Another question that won’t receive a verbal response. But it won’t remain without reply like the first one.
I approach her, placing myself behind her back so I can feel the outline of her perky ass pushed against my hardness. I almost explode with desire when I feel her leaning back, toying with my hunger as she feels out the bulge caused by my erection.
“Oh, Petal, be careful.”
My warning is barely more than a whisper, hissed against her ear. She stiffens, not moving an inch, even when I move my hand between us, traveling up her spine with the tips of my fingers until I reach the top of the thin gown she’s wearing. I hook a finger underneath the hem, relishing the way she takes a deep breath in anticipation—before I take a sudden step back, tearing the fabric apart and exposing her body to my eyes.
She flinches as the silky gown is torn from her body, trying to look back over her shoulder to find my eyes with hers. But I evade her pleading gaze, moving over to the wall with the canes she adored just a few moments before. There’s a vast selection to choose from, but instinct leads me to a very particular cane right away. It’s made of wood, a little longer than most of the others and so thin that it looks like it could break upon impact.
I know it won’t, though. No matter how hard I hit her with it.
She jerks up, even when I just graze along her thigh, the wood barely connecting with her impeccable skin. I move the cane across her behind, teasing her with a tender caress that holds the promise for something entirely different. She quivers, her little hands clenching into fists while she presses her forehead against the cross, bowing her head slightly.
No backtalk. No questions.
She doesn’t try to talk me out of it. She doesn’t protest. She doesn’t wonder.
No. My Petal just waits.