I take the glass then wheel the cart into the room, shutting the door behind me. As I take a sip and park the cart near the table, Aria stands up and steps toward me.
“Wait,” I say, looking at her. “What are you wearing?”
“This?” She looks down at herself. “It’s just a dress.”
I hadn’t noticed it before, when she was sitting. It’s a black dress that hugs every inch of her body with a cutout right around her breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage. It’s a gorgeous dress and suits her figure perfectly, but it’s all wrong.
“Would you wear that if you were just sitting around at home?” I ask her.
She cocks her head at me, smiling. “No, of course not.”
“So why were you wearing it?”
“For you,” she says.
I sigh, sipping my drink. “I want you to be yourself, Aria.”
“I can do that, if you want.”
“No,” I say softly, stepping toward her. I reach out and softly take her hair in my fist. “It’s not about what I want.”
“Yes, it is,” she says in a small voice.
“You don’t understand,” I say. “I want to spoil you. I want to make you feel good, but only if you want me to. Now though...”I can tell that she’s upset. “I messed up,” she says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten all dressed up.”
“We can fix it,” I say gently.
“How?” she asks.
I let go of her hair and step back. “Take off the dress,” I say, heart hammering in my chest.
She looks at me for a second. “Okay,” she says.
I watch as she slowly slides it off her body until she’s standing in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of black underwear.
Her body is gorgeous. Her breasts are full and her hips are perfectly curvy. I want to order her to turn around so that I can take a look at her beautiful ass, but I hold back.
Because I know what I want. I know how I’m going to punish her. I stare at her body and I can see the blush on her cheeks. She’s a little embarrassed to be standing in front of me like this, letting me stare at her, and I like that.
I think I have something else that she’ll like.
“Do you want to get on the bed?” I ask her softly. “Face down,” I add.
She watches me for a second then nods. “Okay,” she says.
I watch as she climbs onto the bed and stays there on all fours, looking back at me over her shoulder.
I give her a look then head into the closet to get her punishment.
8
Aria
I’m practically shaking when he comes back from the closet holding three long strips of black silk. He smiles at me and walks slowly toward me, and I can feel my heart hammering hard in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do with those long silk ropes, but I want to find out.
“Flat on your stomach,” he says to me simply. I pause then obey. He walks down toward my feet, sliding his fingers along my skin. He touches my lower back, my ass, and slides down my legs until he stops at my feet.
He lifts my legs up, keeping my ankles crossed, and then expertly wraps the silk around and between them.
“If you want me to stop, say the word ‘building’. Do you understand?” he asks.
I nod. “I understand.”
He pulls the silk tight. “Too hard?” he asks.
“No,” I say. I can’t move my feet as he takes the other end of the rope and ties it to the footboard.
I try to move my ankles but I’m bound tightly. He smiles and runs his fingers back up along my body as he moves up toward my head.
A chill runs down my spine as his fingers touch my back. I gasp slightly and look away from him, hiding my excitement. I’m dripping wet already, just from his fingertips brushing along my skin. He runs his fingers down my right arm, stopping at my wrist.
“What are your boundaries?” he asks me as he wraps the silk around my wrist, expertly looping it and tying it there.
“Boundaries?” I ask him, not sure what he means.
“What won’t you do? Things you don’t like. Pain, for example.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t really have boundaries yet.”
He smiles. “Good.” He pulls the silk then ties it to the headboard. “Too tight?” he asks.
“No,” I say, testing it. The bond is firm but not cutting off circulation. He walks around the bed then runs his fingers along my skin, from my lower back up along my left arm, ending at my left wrist, and repeats the procedure.
“This is your punishment,” he says as he works. “You’ll be tied and bound to this bed. Not too tight, not too uncomfortable, but you won’t be able to move. I’ll be able to do anything I want with you.”
A thrill runs through my stomach and as he finishes tying my left wrist to the headboard, I feel a moment of panic. I test my bonds and sure enough, I can’t move at all. I’m totally at his mercy.
But I remember what he said about the safe word. All I need to do is say “building” and he’ll stop. I trust him, for whatever reason, although the fear of him taking advantage of me makes this whole experience that much more arousing.
I turn my head and watch him. I’m flat on my stomach, ankles crossed, arms flat on the bed and above me. I can touch the headboard with my fingers, but I’m not being stretched or pulled out of position. It’s actually comfortable if I don’t move.
He stands there, admiring me, and then runs his fingers along my back again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.
“Thank you,” I whisper, excitement coursing through me.
He stops, his fingers lingering over the cleft under my ass. I can feel his fingers inches from my pussy and I know he can feel the heat radiating from there. If he moves slightly further, he’ll feel how dripping wet I am.
Instead, he pulls back his hand and spanks me.
I let out a soft gasp, surprised. He smiles at me. “Sorry, did that hurt?” he asks.
“No,” I say, “you just surprised me.”
“Good.” He spanks me again, this time harder. I gasp, and it actually does hurt. “What about that?” he asks.
“That hurt a little bit,” I say.
“Perfect.” He spanks me again and again. It stings, but it’s dulled by the intensity of the moment. I’m completely at this man’s mercy and he’s spanking me like a disobedient child.
“This is part of your punishment,” he says. “I’m going to spank you until I can see my palm prints in red on both of your perfect white ass cheeks.”
“Ethan,” I groan. “Please. Go easy on me.”
He smiles, and I can tell that he likes that. “I am going easy on you, my pet. Don’t worry.”
He spanks me again and again, making me groan. I try to squirm but I can’t move, can’t get away. It hurts, but not very much. In fact, it’s just the right amount of pain, cutting through the insane sexual chemistry I’m feeling. I want him to take me so badly, but each new spank is intensely erotic in a way I’ve never felt before.