Page 120 of Risks of Temptation
"Touch yourself," one of them orders in French.
Malin positions my hand over my breast and my other on my clit and sets the pace.
"Open her pussy," another orders.
A smile I've never seen on Malin's face appears. He points behind me. "Sit."
I turn. An identical chair to the one I nicknamed the scorpion shines from the black leather and metal. I take a deep breath, remembering all I've experienced on that chair in the last two weeks. Part of me hates the chair, but the other always wondered what it would be like with Malin.
I sit.
Malin wraps the leash around my breasts then rests the remainder of the diamond chain on my cleavage. It hangs past my belly button, and has a ball at the end. He sets it on my mound. I don't know how many carats it is, but it's several inches in diameter. "Submit."
I put my feet in the stirrups. He clamps the cuffs on my ankles and widens the bar but not as far as Bernadette did.
The gray in his eyes becomes lighter, almost blue, and he catches my eyes again.
He's here. It's him.
They darken again, and my heart falls. He sits behind me in the chair, a leg on either side, so my back is against his chest. I sink into him, craving his arms around me and the familiarity and safety of them. I turn my head and look at him then gasp.
He rolls the diamond ball on my clit. The chains squeeze my breasts, and his other hand plays with my nipples. "Don't look at me, look at them. It's their turn. But you will not come until I permit you."
My body wants him. I hate him for doing this to me when they are so close and telling me not to look at him. It's cruel, and every fear I have comes out.
Everything Bernadette told me would happen does. The men peer so closely at my sex, I can feel their stale breath. They inhale several times, as if my scent feeds them. I can't stop quivering in fear, but I'm also dripping with sweat and arousal from Malin's never-ending slow burn of fire. From time to time, he whispers things in French to me I don't understand, and it reminds me that he's not the devil like these other men. But he doesn't slow his touch. He keeps me burning hot and then will change to English and talk so the others hear, calling me his slave, or telling me to call him Master.
But I won't. I refuse to say anything to him and try to contain the whimpers flowing out of my mouth.
I think the viewing is over, but one man waits until the others have all left.
The President steps forward and sniffs me. Malin wraps his arms around me tighter, but the President barks, "Kneel."
Malin's body stiffens.
I shake so hard, my teeth chatter. He's a Global Leader. I have to submit to all of them.
Malin rises, unlocks my cuffs, and looks me in the eyes while unwrapping the chain from my breasts. He loops it several times around his hand and turns.
I find my footing, get off the scorpion, then drop to my knees.
Malin stands next to me, the leash tight around one hand, and fists my hair so my head tilts up. "Look closely now. You'll never have what's mine."
And I wish that was the end. That the President would look at me and Malin and I could leave. But I know it's impossible. The night is only beginning.
