"Please … "
The vibrations stopped.
"You look beautiful, Isa. I knew that color would suit you. Not like those horrid pastels you usually wear. You're too wild for that. A very bad girl trapped inside a good girl's clothes."
I straightened up again, my hands and my sides and looked around, wondering how he could see me. There were no windows, and the door was shut tight behind me. I spied a shining black dot nestled at the foot of a bust on the mantle. A camera. Bingo.
"Before we play today, there are some matters to discuss. Some groundrules, if you will."
"What kind of rules?"
There was a low chuckle. "Eager, aren't we? Well, first, you are always to address me as 'Sir' when we play. I am your master, and you are my dirty little slave girl, understood? I own you when you're in my dungeon, Isabeau."
I trembled at his words, feeling my thighs growing slick with my own arousal.
"But my part of that exchange is my promise to keep you safe, always, at all times. You give me your trust, and I earn every second of it. That's the deal."
I nodded, the weight of his words settling over me. I would have to trust him completely, but the thought of him dominating me, protecting me even as he caused me pain … It made me moan quietly, and move my fingers to my pu**y.
"Bad girl, Isabeau! I'm not done explaining."
He gave me a quick pulse from the vibrators, just enough to shock me. I grinned and put my hands back at my sides.
"Are you willing to put yourself in my hands? Will you be my little slave, Isa?"
I sighed, enchanted by the thought of being in his hands, bending to his every whim.
"Yes, Sir … "
There was a weighty pause, and I pictured him smiling, wherever he was, looking me over, seeing the effect he already had on me.
"The next rule is perhaps the most important. If I go too far, or if you want things to stop for any reason, you need a word to say to put a halt to things. A safe word. If we're playing a game where 'stop' doesn't mean 'stop,' you use that word, and I stop immediately. Do you understand?"
I nodded, wondering what I could possibly use, but feeling comfort at the thought of that fail safe.
"I do."
"Think of your word, and then we can begin."
Buzzing ripped through my body, making my knees buckle. I fell to the carpet, bracing myself against the ottoman as my core squeezed around the pulsing toys.
"Once you've cum twice for me, I'll let you out, and we'll hear that safe word."
"What?!" I gasped. He wanted me to cum twice? Here and now? While he watched?
My cheeks burned, but the vibrations were making it hard to feel anything else, including shame. My whole world narrowed to the knowledge that he was watching me, controlling me. The pattern of vibration changed, pulsing twice, then once, slow, then fast, and I knew he was playing my body like an instrument from afar, willing me to cum for him.
///
He didn't have to wait long.
The pulsing in my ass against the egg in the front made me come apart, wailing on my back, legs squeezed together as my body convulsed. I shuddered, my thighs trembling, my cl*t overly sensitive, but the vibrations kept on.
And just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, Mr. Drake amped up the power.
My screams echoed off the walls, filling my ears.
I lay limp in Mr. Drake's strong arms as he carried me into the dungeon, sweaty and wrung out from my orgasms.
The door closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. "What's your safe word?"
"Ramen," I said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he'd ripped my shirt off after I spilled ramen noodles down my front.
His low laugh made his chest rumble against my cheek. "Ramen, it is."
He stopped in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing. Mr. Drake lifted me into it as if I weighed no more than a child, and went to work securing my arms over my head, then moving down to spread my legs wide, strapping my ankles in with the supple leather.
I was opened up before him, nothing hidden from his view. I saw the hunger burning in his eyes as his gaze raked over my body. He undid his silver tie and slid it to the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt with surgical precision as I watched, just as hungry as he was. I couldn't wait to see that muscled chest of his-his fit body beaded with sweat as he bent over me …
I licked my lips as his shirt fell beside his tie, and waited for him to undo his belt buckle. Instead, he reached for my bra, and roughly pulled my br**sts out of the lace, displaying them on top of the cups. He leaned over and rolled each nipple between his fingers, pinching them hard until I gasped.