Page 98 of Take the Sub and Run

She was standing at one end of the padded table. For a moment, she was disappointed. It was the least interesting thing in the room.

He pressed gently against her ass until she moved forward enough that her lower belly touched the table.

He left her, but only for a moment.

“Arms up.”

Instantly, she obeyed, and when she laced her fingers together on top of her head, he reached around from behind to play with her breast. He was slow but relentless. First gently squeezing, and turning then flicking in a quick up-and-down movement that made her take short, surprised breaths. Then he went back to squeezing, but harder this time. And when he twisted them, he tugged too, distending her nipples away from her breasts.

There was a moment where she thought she might come from just this. Her body so ready and primed that each tug and touch sent a bolt of sensation straight down to her sex.

When he released her breasts, it left her panting and needy.

A strong minty smell made her frown in confusion.

“This is a mix of spearmint and menthol.”

“What is?”

“This.” Andrei held his hand up in front of her face, showing her the slick oil on the pad of his middle finger.

“I…I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I know you don’t, but you will. I wish I could be soft and gentle with you tonight, but I can’t.”

“I didn't ask for soft and gentle.”

“You didn’t,” he agreed, “but remind me of your safe word.”

“Rembrandt.”

“That’s right, Angel.” He brought his hand to her breast and rubbed the oil into her nipple. It felt good, and she arched up into his touch.

But the second he pulled his hand away, a sharp cold bit at her nipple.

She gasped, looking down at her own breast in surprise, even as he reached around and applied the same oil to the other nipple. It took a moment, but that one too started to burn with cold.

“It’s cold!”

“For now. Then it will get hot. And this will make it worse.”

He showed her what “this” was when he put a hand on her back and bent her face down over the table.

The legs were a little too tall for her, the whole thing taller than a normal table, so she had to go up on her tiptoes.

Now, with her nipples squashed against the padded table top, the cold burn was fading in a favor of heat.

Andrei knelt and strapped her legs to the legs of the table, spreading them even wider as he did. Then he moved to the other end, stroking her arms from shoulder to elbow to wrist and drawing them straight as he did. Padded loops were slipped over her wrists and tightened, keeping her stretched out across the table. A final strap went over her waist.

A strange, lovely calm settled over her, even as she twitched in response to the burning sensation on her nipples.

Andrei gathered her hair which had fallen over her. “How does that feel, Angel?”

“Calm.”

He'd been stroking her back and paused in apparent surprise. “I meant the oil. You're talking about the bondage.”

“The oil feels hot. Burning.”

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