Page 69 of Twisted Little Thing

Too soon, his hands let go of my breasts and move down along my side until he reaches the hem of my thong. He pauses for a moment before he slowly pulls it down until it falls down by itself.

I instantly step out of it, finding it weird to balance with my hands still up in the air.

"On the bed," he whispers. "On your back."

His voice is gentle and loving, but I don't need to test him to know that any backtalk or hesitation can change that very quickly.

I stumble toward my bed and position myself the way he wants me to, awkwardly falling back on my bed as I have no way of supporting myself with my hands.

"Lift your knees," he orders next. "And spread them. As far as you can."

I gulp. He has seen me like this before. There is no logical reason for me to be ashamed about exposing myself to him like this.

At least that is what I am trying to tell myself as I follow his order and slowly lift and spread my knees as well as I can. I am rather flexible and thus give a lot of leeway for him to look at me in this awkward position.

He smiles and nods in approval. "Good girl."

I blush and close my eyes while he studies me. It is that silly reassurance of 'if I don't see him, he won't see me' that even children cannot fool themselves with.

And of course, he doesn't let it go.

"Look at me," he says.

I obey and slowly open my eyes to return his gaze.

He is still smiling.

"You have nothing to be ashamed off," he assures. "This is the most beautiful sight I could hope for."

It takes all my strength to withstand the intensity of his eyes. Everything inside me screams to flee. I want to turn my head, close my eyes, crawl under a blanket, hide myself.

"Leave your hands above your head," he says. "And remember, the ribbon is not very tight, not very strong. No matter what I do to you, you cannot yank at it. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I utter.

"Good girl," he says.

Again, he remains fully dressed as he climbs on the bed, placing himself between my legs. His eyes are on my center, staring at my nakedness.

For a few moments, that is all he does. He is sitting between my legs, staring at me, obviously enjoying the view – and my growing embarrassment. My breathing accelerates and I start shivering. I try to remain calm, but my body keeps moving, squirming and moving from side to side as if he was touching me.

"Beautiful," he whispers. "So responsive."

Finally, he removes his eyes from my center and looks up to catch mine.

"What do you think?" he asks. "If I touch you, what will I find?"

I bite my bottom lip, unable to reply.

"Answer me!" he hisses, accompanied by a little slap at the upper inside of my thigh. It doesn't hurt much, but it took me by surprise.

My hands fly up for a second, causing a little pull at the ribbon. I now realize that it will not be easy to keep the knot around my wrists intact.

He notices, too.

"Uh oh, be careful, baby girl," he says. "You're going to regret it if you're not."

I bite my lip again, not because I am dumbfounded, but to suppress a snappy remark that might get me into even more trouble.

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