One touch to the wall and he had something large descending from the ceiling. I watched with wide eyes as a large X lowered in front of me. It was the same height as James, which gave me a good idea what it was for.
"This is what's called a St. Andrew's cross," he told me quietly. That was all.
He pulled me up with a finger in my collar and a fist in my hair. He pressed my front hard into that ominous X. He strapped my wrists and ankles to it nice and quick, before pressing his body hard to my back. I felt his erection against my butt and tried to arch into it. He slapped my ass hard before moving away.
I laid my head against my arm, tilted forward as I waited and listened for what he would do next.
I started as something hard but smooth stroked against my other cheek. I turned my head to see a thick black oval paddle that was patterned with holes. He pulled it away before I could get a better look.
He struck swiftly and repeatedly along my butt and thighs. I was still sore from the roses, which added to the pain, but he was relentless, not holding back a bit. He worked me over hard.
I had nothing to hold onto, nothing to grip on the cross, so my hands curled and uncurled as the blows struck me.
My legs were spread wide, and a few rough blows to my sensitive inner thighs had me gasping with the pain. He had been the reticent Dom since he'd picked me up from the café, but the force of his blows were telling me plenty, communicating so much that he hadn't. He was furious and hurt and scared, and that pent-up, frustrated emotion was all for me.
My flesh was on fire when he finished. There was no pause between the last blow and him thrusting into me roughly from behind.
"That wasn't your punishment, Bianca," he rasped into my ear. "Do you want to know what your real punishment is?"
I nodded, unable to speak as he thrust into me again and again. I was on that fine edge when he pulled out of me abruptly.
"You don't get to come until tonight, Love. Not for hours. I'm going to work you over, fuck you thoroughly, and you don't get an orgasm. That's an order. And if by chance you disobey that order, you won't get to come for a week."
I wanted to scream in frustration, but instead I gasped as he thrust back into me, pounding inside of me, again and again.
"Don't," he said, knowing that I was so close.
He hit the end of me, coming with that rough little groan that I loved. I hated it right then, sobbing in frustration.
"Please," I begged as he pulled out of me.
"Not until tonight," he said firmly.
He left me there for long minutes before coming back to unfasten me. I didn't move after I was loose, instead I just lay against that X and waited.
He sighed and swept me up into a cradle hold.
He carried me to the playground, laying me onto a firmly cushioned surface. At the first touch of my back to the table, I began to look around. There were two such tables in this room that I knew of for sure. I saw from where I was positioned just what he had in mind, but not before he had my wrists and ankles strapped tightly to the corners of the table.
He watched me intently while he slipped on tight latex gloves. "Any objections?" he asked, a touch of a taunt in the question, almost like he was daring me.
I set my jaw hard, just watching him, daring him to do his worst.
He gave me a tight smile and got to work.
He washed and dried the area around my nipples with a clinical thoroughness. He pulled tiny metal forceps from the open drawer built into the table.
He didn't hesitate, using it to grip my left nipple firmly. At the end of the metal instrument was a small hoop that fit around my hard nipple perfectly. He held it captive while he leaned in close and marked it carefully on each side.
I had to tell myself to breathe as I watched him. I was painfully tense, not knowing what to expect. I'd never had anything pierced but my ears before.
He carefully studied the marks he'd made, my nipple still held firmly with those mean little forceps. He put the pen away, pulling out a sadistic looking needle with the same hand.
My eyes were glued to that thick needle as he pushed the sharp, hollowed-out tip of it into my skin. I took one very deep breath and held it.
He pushed it into my skin, and through, with a quick, almost smooth motion. It was painful but fast, the sight and feel of it a shock to my system.
He laced a tiny silver hoop into the needle, pulling it through, and then slipping the bigger needle out.
I watched my chest rise and fall as I started breathing again.
He pressed a cloth very gently to the newly pierced area before striding away.
He came back less than a minute later with two small, cold gel packs in his hands. One he set in the open drawer, the other against my pierced nipple.