“Tomorrow night. Game on.”
Chapter Five
Music vibrated under Gwen’s feet as she strolled through the club, heading for the bar. A fast beat thumped while electronic sounds mixed in a smooth flowing rhythm. Men and women swayed to the tune while others performed their own version of dirty dancing. The scene reminded her of the previous night when she’d come to meet Mark. As she thought about the exhausting yet glorious evening she’d had with him, she couldn’t stop the smile from emerging on her face. He was an excellent lover and if she lived in Amsterdam, she’d become one of his regular clients.
Finding an empty stool in the centre of the bar, she claimed it and laid her pocketbook on the counter. One of the waiters arrived promptly with a napkin in hand.
“Vodka and orange juice please,” she told him before he asked for her order in Dutch.
He promptly turned and started preparing her order.
With a deep breath, she tried to calm the nervousness churning within her belly. She’d promised Mark she’d spend her last night with him, obey his commands, and let him control her. But one of the things he’d mentioned in their conversations during the day had made her uneasy. He’d talked about making her ass turn bright red as part of her punishment. Although a previous lover had lightly spanked her before, she couldn’t fathom enduring enough hits to make her buttocks look like a ripe tomato. It sounded painful, and pain was not something she thought she could enjoy in a sexual situation. But she’d given him her word that she’d show up. How could she not when he’d delivered so many earth-shattering orgasms the night before?
As the bartender put her drink on the napkin, she withdrew euros from her purse. She handed the funds to him, then he moved on to the next customer nearby.
Gwen lifted the glass and imbibed the liquor. The coldness gave her a slight chill, but she drank the strong mixture as if it were water. She hoped it would ease her anxiety. She downed over half of the drink before she set it back on the countertop.
A tall and bulky dark-skinned man with no hair came to stand next to her. He wore a business suit with a white shirt under his jacket. The buttons at the top were unfastened. Glasses framed his eyes.
“How are you?” he asked with a smile. He had a British accent.
“Good. Thank you.”
“Are you here from the States?”
“Yes. Tonight’s my last night in Amsterdam.”
“I’m here for a few more days. Business and pleasure.”
His gaze moved to her chest, then lower to her bare legs. A wave of heat rushed to her cheeks. She wasn’t wearing a bra or any underwear under her white knee-length dress. Mark had requested she wear the innocent-looking garment with the pink flowers—the same one she’d worn the day they’d met in the sex toy shop. He’d also asked her to wear nothing underneath, which made her feel exposed to the world. Since he was going to be in charge tonight, she had agreed to his terms.
“Are you enjoying your visit?” the British man asked.
She smiled and lifted her glass. “I am, very much. Thanks.”
As she finished her orange juice and vodka she thought about the fun she’d had in Amsterdam so far, all courtesy of Mark. He’d given her so many orgasms she’d lost count. They’d eventually drifted to sleep and woken up mid-morning. When they’d left for a stop at her hotel and food, her body ached and legs were a bit unstable. But the slight discomfort was well worth it. Later, he’d escorted her to the Museum Amstelkring, Oude Kerk, and Begijnhof. His hands were always on her body somewhere and his lips were never far. They’d kissed a lot, teased plenty, and shared a quickie in an alley. By all accounts, she’d had a very memorable time in the Netherlands.
Feeling calmer, she set her glass on the napkin and pushed it forward.
“Can I buy you another drink?” Mr Tall, Dark, and Handsome asked.
“Thank you, but I’m waiting to meet someone.”
“Of course.”
Smiling, she twisted to look at the dance floor. Mark appeared, squeezing between clusters of men and women. An instant rush of excitement shot through her and her nipples pebbled. He wore tight-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt with a logo on the front. Every muscle in his body seemed on display. Damn, he was smoking hot. She snatched her pocketbook and stood.
“You’re here early,” Mark said as he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“I wanted a drink. I can wait—”
“No, no.” He raked his gaze down her body. “I won’t have you sitting here as bait for the sharks. Let’s go somewhere private.”
He placed his arm around her waist and nudged her through the crowd. When the mass of bodies thickened, he took her hand and led the way. They reached the exit and he opened the door for her.
“Have I told you how hot you look in that dress?”
She bit her lip to stifle her chuckle as she paused in the hallway. “I believe you’ve told me a time or two. You asked me to wear it again, so I did.”
He walked past her and to the staircase. “Did you wear anything else?”
She descended the steps behind him. “You’ll have to find the answer yourself.”
He stopped at the door leading to the basement with the rooms and knocked. Then he looked at her with a wicked grin. “I’ll find the answer, then I’ll punish you for making my dick so hard.”
Desire zinged through her, warming her insides and adding beats to her heart. Her pussy wept at the thought of his rigid member. She wanted it driving into her and bringing her orgasm after orgasm. Yet at the same time, worry seeped into her mind. What punishment would he inflict upon her?
The door opened and a masked man appeared. Mark spoke to him in Dutch, then led her past the hooded guard.
“We’re not going upstairs?” she asked as she followed him in the quiet hallway. Her gaze lowered to his ass and she fought the urge to pinch one of his round cheeks.
“Not right now.”
He turned the corner, passed several windows and vacant rooms until he stopped in a doorframe. The black curtain hung on one side. He gestured for her to enter.
“My lady,” he said.
Gwen took a deep breath before she walked into the room. She came to a quick halt a few feet past Mark. Her eyes widened at the chains hanging from the ceiling. A tall black cabinet and a padded sawhorse lined one wall while a leather recliner sat in the corner. Flames from candles flickered on the table next to the chair. The scent of vanilla lingered, but did little to ease her rattled nerves.
“Don’t worry,” he said as he grazed his fingers along the backside of her arm, giving her a chill. “I won’t be too hard on you.”
“I hope the only thing hard is the object in your pants. Otherwise, I’m not sure I can handle this.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes. I don’t like pain.”
He took her purse from her hand, then tossed it towards the recliner. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He took her hand and stepped back, bringing her with him.
“I believe you.” Her gaze went up to the cuffs dangling from the ceiling. “But I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Choose a safe word. If something is too much, just say the word and I’ll stop.”
They stood next to the chains. “Pick a word,” she said. “Any word?”
“Yes.”
“Flowers.”
His lips twitched. “You want your safe word to be flowers.”
“Well, since I have them on my dress and you like this outfit so much, I thought it would seem fitting.”
He grinned widely. “Flowers it is.”
He let of her hand and stepped back. “Are you ready to be my lover tonight?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the one-way mirrored window. “People can see us, right?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t displayed my body for public viewing before, nor had sex so openly.”
The last detail bothered her the most. Although someone could’ve walked by and seen them having a quickie in the alley earlier in the day, nobody had. And her clothes had covered most of her body. So the spur of the moment sex outdoors didn’t count as a public show. Nor did the time she fucked Nikolaus at the Opera House in Vienna. They were high enough up and at too awkward an angle for anyone to see her riding him. In Italy, she had been on a boat far away from land and people when she’d had sex with Leo and Paolo. And sex with Pierre on the Eiffel Tower had been definitely out of anyone’s sight. Flaunting her goods for all to see troubled her, but not nearly as much as the fact that people could watch her have sex.
“Most people who come to the basement are here to play. But if someone does look in, I assure you, they’ve seen naked bodies before and viewed plenty of porn.”
His logic made sense, but it didn’t lessen her anxiety much. Sighing, she looked at his groin and found a large bulge. The big lump behind the article of clothing would bring her a world of pleasure, as well as the man wielding said package. Maybe she shouldn’t concern herself with the public but should focus on enjoying what waited in front of her.
What an excellent idea.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Close your eyes.”
She did and inhaled a deep breath. The cabinet to her side rattled. The temptation to look pressed upon her, but she resisted.
“I know you want to peek, so I’m going to make sure you can’t,” he said before he slid something soft over her head.
The mask fit adequately above her nose and covered the upper portion of her face. She tried to open her eyes, but it was of no use. A band wrapped around and held the covering securely.
He rubbed his thumb over her lips. She parted them, hoping he might slide his digit inside.
“I considered gagging you, but I enjoy these lips, especially when they are wrapped around my cock.”
His words added fuel to her fiery need. She slid her tongue forward and licked his finger.
“I didn’t give you permission to touch me.” He moved his hand down her neck and to one of her breasts. He pinched and tugged on her nipple. “You’re a naughty woman.”
Tingles raced from her tit. Moisture trickled from her pussy. He took her other perky bud into his hold and treated it in kind.
“You need discipline,” he said.
Gwen clenched her thighs. If his idea of discipline was fucking her, then she’d willingly accept. “I am a
very
naughty woman.”
“You need to learn to be quiet and stop teasing me.” He let go of her breasts.
“But—”
“No talking.” His tone sounded commanding.
She pressed her lips together and tried to refrain from speaking. It was difficult especially in her aroused condition.
“Raise your arms,” he said, and she did. He lifted her dress and removed it from her body, leaving her exposed. “Now this is better.”
He placed his hands between her legs and pushed a finger into her slit. Gwen sucked in a quick breath from the unexpected intrusion.
“Yes, you
are
very naughty. And wet.” He inserted more digits and caressed her clit. “But you can’t have what you want until I say so.”
Her longing built from his touch. How could she hold back her release when he was encouraging her to have one? She didn’t want to. She wanted to be a bad girl. She wanted him to massage her nub more.
“Do you understand?” he asked.
She nodded, but she couldn’t resist toying with him. “Just make me come hard with your thick cock.”
He shook his head as he withdrew his hand. “Breaking the rules already. Gwen, Gwen…” He took one of her arms and lifted it.
“Well, you did leave me to use my tongue and mouth. I would hate to disappoint.”
“I’m going to enjoy disciplining you.”
He wrapped a restraint around her wrist, then secured the other one. Although he’d stopped teasing her clitoris, her desire continued to climb. She believed he wouldn’t harm her and would enjoy watching her squirm as her yearning gnawed away at her. She knew his game well, having played it with him the prior evening. When he’d finished binding her arms above her head, she gave a tug on the chain. The padded cuffs clung tightly. She was officially naked, bound, and unable to see.
“You’re mine now,” he said.
His words made her hornier than a teenager. She couldn’t run from him. She couldn’t hide. She was helpless to his wicked intentions.
She heard a zipper and faint movements by the recliner in the corner.
“You look incredible like that,” he said. “Your breasts are so full and perky.”
She smiled and remained silent. Part of her wanted to be the bad girl, but the other part reminded her that she’d agreed earlier to follow his instructions.
“You’re quiet now. Good.”
His voice came from the area where the cabinet stood. She heard a soft buzz.
“Spread your legs,” he said as he moved closer with the humming noise.
Her pulse jumped as she obeyed his command. The man would torture her with the need for sex. How? She suspected he’d start by using a vibrator. All she had to do was resist coming. She had been stupid to agree to his rules.
He placed his hand on her hip. “You are incredibly beautiful and you smell heavenly. Don’t move.”
She felt something round and hard touch her pussy. He slowly pushed the object inside her and her insides expanded to accept it. The largeness of it reminded her of Mark’s shaft.
“You’re so wet.” He slid the dildo in and out.
Gwen relaxed her legs, trying to enjoy the fake cock. Her restraints held her arms tight above her as she leaned in to accept her punishment. He pumped the solid object into her a few times, bringing her closer to her climax, then he stopped and held it inside her. The buzzing moved closer. She bit her lip. When the vibration touched her clit, she nearly gasped.
“Someone likes this,” he said, massaging the increasingly sensitive spot between her legs.
Gwen’s temperature rose and she pulled on the restraints. Her need for a release was escalating. He moved the imitation dick in and out while toying with her nub. She didn’t want to say her safe word, but she was so close to coming. His punishment was too much.
Then the hum stopped and he withdrew the false member from her slit.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m ready to burst. Can you fuck me now?” She wondered if she needed to beg. The emptiness and lack of stimulation left her starving.