Page 12 of Claiming Rose

“That’s a loaded question.” Oliver stared at her and rubbed his chin. “Let’s see. What do you have on under that short skirt?” Rose slid her fingers down and raised her skirt so he could see the miniscule panties she wore. “Very nice. Everything off but those.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her fingers shook slightly as she began to undress. Passion made her fingers clumsy. She got her clothing off, folded them and looked at Oliver.

“I’ll take those.” He took her clothing and placed them on a nearby chair where two blankets sat. When he turned back to her his eyes flashed with need. “Onto the bondage chair please.”

Rose sat down. She liked this chair. It had a little pad for the back of her head, and the arms and legs moved. Of course, once she was tied, she couldn’t move them. Oliver walked over and stood by the small table next to the chair. She hadn’t noticed that before.

It was covered, but there were several lengths of rope sitting on top of the fabric. Rose took a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

“Hemp rope, so it shouldn’t dig into your skin, but let me know if anything starts to go numb.” He stepped around the back and adjusted the arms of the chair. “Left arm up, please.” Rose put her arm against the chair arm.

It wasn’t in a bad position, slightly lower than her shoulder, enough that she could relax. She turned her head and watched as Oliver put the end of the crimson rope around her palm and tied it, before he began looping it around her arm to hold it against the chair. When he got to her shoulder he did another light tie.

Then he did the same with her right arm. Her fingers were loose, but her arms weren’t going anywhere. He stood in front of her admiring his work. Her skin was already tingling with hunger for him.

“What shall I do with those legs?” He stared at her for a few moments before kneeling down. His hand went under the chair and she heard a slight ping. Oliver put his hands on the inside of her legs and pushed outwards.

Her legs parted with the legs of the chair. That’s what made this chair so diabolical, the ability to have a sub on display and totally helpless to the Dom’s whims. A shiver shook her body.

Oliver glanced up at her and she smiled. That shiver was need and desire, not fear. “I’m fine, Sir,” she whispered.

“Good.” When he had her in the position he wanted he reached underneath the chair and there was another ping. Then he picked up the blue rope.

He started with her left ankle, tying the first knot, then winding it up her leg until he got to her knee where he tied it off. Then did the same with her right leg. Interesting that he didn’t tie it all the way up.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Fine, Sir.” She wiggled her fingers and toes. They’d just started but she knew it was important not to lose circulation.

Oliver stood and took the cover off the table. Rose let out a small gasp and Oliver’s gaze slid to her. “Did you think this was all I was going to do?” His voice was low, but there was a tone she hadn’t heard before.

“No, Sir.” She swallowed. Nipple clamps, two small floggers, several feathers, and a bullet.

“Let me warm you up and then we’ll play.”

Chapter Five

Oliver loved the flush that covered Rose’s skin. She was aroused and ready to play. His own heart beat faster than normal as he stripped out of his leather vest and laid it on the chair with her clothing. His cock was already hard in his pants.

Picking up a feather, he ran it over her skin with infinite care, watching the gooseflesh pop out in its wake. Oh, she was sensitive. Good. He tickled her nipples watching them harden, before he slid the feather down to her abdomen. Rose squirmed.

“I see I forgot something,” he said putting the feather down, he grabbed another length of crimson rope, and did several loops around her waist and tied it off, before picking the feather up again.

This time she tried to wiggle and couldn’t. Good. That was what he wanted. Her helpless and at his mercy. But was she really? All she had to say was one little word and all would stop.

“Doing okay?” he asked. It was important for him to know she wasn’t hurting.

“Fine, Sir.” Her breathing had sped up and her voice was a bit choppy.

“Okay, then.” He set the feather aside and picked up one of the small floggers. “Now you’re probably wondering what I’m going to do with this tiny flogger.” He twirled the black and red flogger in his hand.

“I don’t know, Sir.”

“Damon makes these special little things. You see, they’re made for special spot.” He flicked his wrist and the tails snapped at her nipple.

Rose squealed as her body flushed deeper red and her breath hiccupped.

Oliver ran is fingers over her nipple. Hot and firm to the touch. He flicked the flogger over her right nipple. This time Rose inhaled but didn’t squeal. He wanted to hear her. He flogged her breasts, her abdomen, and her upper thighs.

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