He strode across to the bondage table, and rested his ass on the soft leather upholstery. He folded his arms across his chest, waiting patiently for an explanation.
None was forthcoming.
“You’re going nowhere. You’re in my domain now. What I say goes. My word is law. Now show me what you’re hiding behind the sawhorse.” When she didn’t respond, he clapped his hands together, twice in quick succession. The loud noise echoed around the playroom, making her jump. “I demand to see what you’ve hidden.”
Zoë looked startled by his gruff command. Trembling slightly, she retrieved the hidden object from behind the sawhorse. He recognized the bullwhip immediately. It was his most prized tool of correction, and one he’d spent the best part of a year mastering. Now he had the skill and experience to hit the tail of the whip to within an inch of his planned target.
Her hands visibly shook as she held it out to him. “I’m sorry, Hunter. I know you told me not to come in here, but I was so intrigued when I first saw the playroom, I wanted a second look.”
“Ah, Peaches, but you were doing more than just looking, weren’t you? You were touching, too. Did I give you permission to touch?”
The silence in the playroom was deafening. Zoë shuffled awkwardly on the spot, looking for all the world like a naughty schoolgirl being admonished by the principal. Her hands clasped and unclasped nervously in front of her stomach. “I’m sorry, Hunter, but I didn’t think you would be back so soon.”
“So I see. Now you leave me no alternative, but to execute a little correction.”
Hunter allowed his gaze to drift down Zoë’s beautiful silken body once more. Her breasts heaved, rising and falling with nervous anticipation, and her perfect little toes flexed repeatedly. He took the bullwhip from her shaky grasp, and hooked it around her waist. Holding both ends he pulled her hard against him.
Zoë twisted back and forth like a landed fish, digging in her heels, desperately trying to stop him from drawing her closer. “Please, Hunter, I said I was sorry.”
“So you did, but sorry is simply not good enough. It’s no use fighting. Here in the playroom, I’m in charge.” Still sitting on the bondage table, he wrapped his legs tightly around her, corralling her in place.
“But, Hunter.” Still she squirmed, twisting and turning, fighting his authority, trying to prize his legs from around her.
“Carry on wriggling all you like. You won’t escape, I’m far too strong for you.” He stared into her frightened, beautiful green eyes. “Since you seem to be so interested in my bullwhip, as part of your punishment for disobeying me, I’ll give you a demonstration of its power.” Knowing full well that he held her securely between his thighs, Hunter laid the bullwhip to one side.
Her efforts to escape were futile, and he figured her angry protestations were halfhearted at best. He knew from the look in her eyes, she was turned on. Her breasts were heaving, and an attractive blush tinged her cheeks. Still holding her tightly with his thighs, he dipped into the pocket of his leather jeans and withdrew a pair of Velcro cuffs. He roughly secured them to her wrists. They came with a metal D ring woven into the fabric. He’d used them many times before to restrain a wayward sub.
Holding both her slender wrists securely in one hand, he rose from the bondage table, and led her forcibly to the St. Andrew’s cross. He yanked her hands above her head, and hooked the D rings on the Velcro cuffs to the top of the X-shaped frame.
“Hunter, what are you doing?” He loved her submissive whimpers, and knew she was getting into the role-play as much as him.
“Give me your foot,” he demanded. When she didn’t immediately comply with his instruction, he grabbed hold of the nearest shapely ankle and secured it to the base of the X frame. He performed exactly the same procedure with
The Anthem Sprinters (and Other Antics) (v2.1)