Page 47 of On Thin Ice

Before I could even answer, he was unbuttoning my blouse. “Would you rather undress yourself?”

Although I still didn’t fully understand what was happening, I didn’t feel like his hands removing my clothing would be a punishment. “No, that’s okay.”

In fact, I rather liked it—and he must have seen it in my eyes as he pulled the shirt over my shoulders. “Actually, I’m going to sit down and you will finish undressing yourself.”

Swallowing, I nodded, all while my nipples were pebbling inside the sheer bra. Whatever was going on, I realized he didn’t want me to enjoy it—but that was going to be difficult, and I didn’t know that I’d be able to hide my pleasure.

Unless I was way off base about what I thought was going to happen here. After pulling off my sneakers and socks, I undid the zipper of my jeans and shimmied them over my hips. Knowing Sinclair preferred neatly stacking the clothing, I picked them off the floor and placed them on the dresser.

As I turned back around, I made eye contact with him for just a moment. What was he thinking? It was impossible to tell if he liked what I was doing or not—but he didn’t say a word.

When I pulled the panties down, I was surprised at the wetness between my legs. Obviously, even if my conscious brain knew this was supposed to be discipline for breaching our contract yet again, my body eagerly anticipated what was coming next.

Finally, I removed my bra, and when the cool air grazed over the nipples, they grew more rigid. Then I stood there, awaiting his instructions, every nerve in my body attentive as it anticipated whatever he had planned.

When he stood, there was no mistaking the erection in his pants—telling me that either he found my naked body arousing or he would be doing something with it.

Maybe both.

I reminded myself that he couldn’t rape the willing.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered in a voice that communicated he meant business.

I didn’t even nod. Instead, I turned and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

He walked over to the nightstand and my eyes followed. He was now so close I could feel his body heat, smell his cologne, and I was suddenly hungry. Not for food, but for him—but I wasn’t about to say it.

As he took an eye mask off the top of the items on the nightstand, I took inventory: a large ostrich feather, an ice bucket with a green bottle, a box of condoms.

Was he planning to fuck me over and over again until—?

But I couldn’t finish my thought as he slipped the eye mask over my head and made it snug. “Is that too tight?”

“No, that’s okay.” And again my pussy agreed—only that it was far more than okay.

“Lie down in the middle.”

Without my eyes, I had to do it all by feel. That wasn’t too difficult, and soon I was lying as instructed. But then I felt his warm hands on me—but not where I wanted them. He slid them underneath, moving me farther on the bed, perhaps closer to the center.

And then there was silence for a bit, and the anticipation—and fear—followed. Without my eyes, I couldn’t prepare for what he was about to do. Maybe this was punishment after all. After a few more seconds, he took my right hand and stretched my arm away from my body, and then he secured it in a restraint. The cuff bit at my wrist, so I tried to relax.

What was he going to do?

Part of me wanted to scream and shout, maybe even beg for mercy, because I didn’t know what to expect. I was about to be his captive.

As he cuffed my lower right leg, I reminded myself that Edna would be here Monday. So would the cleaning ladies. If nothing else, I only had to last two days.

But was that his plan? To simply restrain me naked and walk away?

I supposed that might teach me a lesson about not taking my freedom in the mansion for granted.

Based on his earlier promise of dinner later—and suggesting a safe word—I didn’t think so.

So, even in the tense darkness of my mind, I tried to relax, finding that I trusted him, even now.

It was less than a minute before he had my other arm and leg restrained so that I could see in my mind’s eye that my body looked like an X. Straining in the darkness, I realized my ears were trying to do their usual job, only enhanced to help my eyes. For quite a bit, I couldn’t hear anything, not even Sinclair’s breathing, and I suspected that was part of the punishment too.

The unknown. Hanging in suspense.

---