Captive Ride(9)

“What do you want? Whatever it is that is in my power, I’ll give it to you. Do you have a friend who needs help? A family member.”

“Oh you’ll give it to me alright.” The rasp of the zipper is followed by cool air on my butt cheeks. A calloused hand shapes my curve and then a stinging slap is delivered. I yelp in surprise. “Won’t you?”

“I will if you let me go,” I bargain.

He slaps me again and tears prick my eyes—more in shock than surprise. I haven’t had a spanking…ever. “You don’t have any power here. You’re not in a courtroom or an office or a boardroom. You’re here, under my hand and you’re going to do what I say.”

His words are harsh and demanding. I renew my futile struggle under him. He laughs, almost cruelly. His fingers dip down between my legs and I’m mortified at what I know he finds.

“You want this,” he growls. “You want to be treated like this. I’ve seen your books. Your toy chest. If you don’t want this all you have to do is say no.”

Say no?

He waits, his fingers lightly touching my panties which are wet with my unwanted arousal.

“Answer me.” He grabs my hair and tugs me back toward his chest. “Yes or no, Amy.”

I bite my tongue and refuse to answer him. He wants an answer but that’s the one thing I can withhold.

“Have it your way,” he says. His voice is thick with satisfaction. My silence is his consent.

His wrenches down my skirt.

“If you ruin my clothes, I’m coming after you.”

“You’ll be panting after me anyway.” He slaps me across the tops of my thighs hard enough that the elastic of my thigh highs bite into my skin. “You wear these to the office everyday? Who are you hoping comes in to bend you over the desk? Is it a client? Do you have a thing for one of your clients?”

Desire is blooming in my body, stretching it’s arms out wide. I close my eyes and concentrate on that. It’s almost a foreign feeling, like a body part that fell asleep and is waking with a vengeance. There’s pain but I know the pleasure isn’t far behind. If I can concentrate on that, keep my eyes on that then—smack!

“What was that for?” I cry.

“I asked you a question. Answer it!” he demands.

“I wear them because I like them. Because their cheaper! If I run one stocking then I don’t have to trash the entire pair.”

He pauses and in the silence, I realize how unsexy my answer is. My entire life is run by pragmatic choices.

He chuckles then, a warm one so different than the cruel laugh he’d let out before. “Amy, Amy, you’re going to have to learn that not everything needs to be done because it’s the cheapest or makes the most sense.”

“I’m happy with my life,” I insist. “Now get off of me and let me go.”

“No,” he says simply. He reaches underneath my face and wraps a blindfold around my eyes and then pulls me upright. Disoriented and blind, it’s easy for him to drag me to my bedpost. He stands me up against the tall wooden spindle. I feel exposed and ridiculous in my thigh highs, silk blouse, and heels.

“Dammit, Flint. Stop this right now and untie me.”

“Nope,” he says far too cheerfully. “It’d defeat the purpose for tying you up in the first place.”

“And just why did you tie me?” I kick out my legs but I get only air. I don’t have a good sense of where that bastard is.

“Because you were thinking of running away and then I’d have to chase you and the Minneapolis police tend to frown on tattooed, leather wearing biker dudes chasing down tender young females.”

“I’m neither tender or young.” I punch out in front of me and end up striking my knuckles against the bedframe.

“Careful there Amy, you’re going to hurt my property.”

I snort. “This is my house.”

“I’m not talking about the bed. I’m referring to you.”

This earns him another kick and punch which do nothing. Again.

“I’m serious this time. I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he chides me. “If you’re going to keep flailing around, I’ll have to stop and bind you tighter.”

The threat is effective. I slump back and think of a new attack.

“The bindings hurt,” I complain trying to appeal to his chivalrous side.

He chuckles. I feel the vibration against my back. “No they don’t.”

“Because you’ve tied so many women before?” The sarcastic words slip out before I can stop them.

“Because I’m the Death Lords VP, Amy, and before I was VP, I was an enforcer. I’ve bound a lot of people, very few of them women.”