She sat in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. The black, silk peignoir was flattering stretched tight against her breasts. Her bright, red hair was pulled up to expose the line of her neck. She was excited for this evening. She'd been waiting for it for years, the night she would truly uncover what it was that she was made of. And it would all be done at his hands. She'd set the room for her fantasy. Strong, black iron. Rich, dark wood. Ivory gauze and candlelight to cast a romantic glow. She laughed at herself, hopeless and cliché. Still ,she was comfortable and that was important. Nervous butterflies were flitting through her stomach, trying to escape through her throat.
A small breeze made the flames near her gutter and threaten to extinguish, she froze when she saw him in the mirror. He simply stood, silent and commanding. Nothing menacing in his gesture but every fiber of him screamed predator. Her body was torn between the need to break the silence and to make him come to her.
"Stand."
His voice sent a shiver down her spine, not in fear but anticipation. Still she hesitated.
"I said stand."
She slowly pushed her seat back and stood, she regarded his reflection in the mirror. He was dressed elegantly. Black pants, a white shirt. The buttons on the shirt were unfastened and the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. The stark white of the shirt contrasted with the darkness of his skin.
"Turn."
His voice startled her and he smiled as she jumped. She turned to face him, after a moment of strong eye contact she dropped her gaze. A glint of silver at his wrist drew her attention and she focused on the cuff there. He walked towards her. The smooth, sensual movements of a hunting cat. Her breath quickened. He didn't stop until his chest brushed against her arm. Invading her space, setting her on edge. The need to take a step back or to push him away was almost overwhelming. She moved to take the step back and he grabbed her arm.
"Stay where you are until I tell you to move."
She giggled with nerves.
"I'm glad you find this amusing. You will need the energy tonight."
Her body tightened at the malice in his voice, a promise of dark things and pain.
"When I am standing I want you on your knees at my feet. I want your hands in your lap, your eyes downcast. When I walk into a room this is where you belong. Do you understand?"
She didn't speak. Her pride was battling for control of her tongue, to tell him that the last place she belonged was on her knees. That the way he was speaking to her offended her.
"Do you understand?"
Still she was silent and unmoving. She wanted to yield, wanted to please him but she also couldn't give up control to him.
The force of the blow to her face dropped her to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes and rage filled her heart.
"You will do as I tell you or you will face consequences."
She looked up at him, ready to spit venom. He brought his hand back up and she flinched. The caress to her face startled her as much as the slap earlier.
"I don't want to hurt you. Pain should be part of the pleasure for you, but you will learn your place in our game. One way or another you will learn."
Slowly the glare left her gaze, she regarded him cautiously. She moved to her knees, clasped her hands in her lap and directed her eyes to the crease in his pants.
"Lovely, just lovely. You are quite a beauty. You are fierce, strong, and passionate."
She felt herself beginning to flush at his praise.
"It is a shame you don't see yourself as you are. You will in time. In time my opinion, above all others, will matter to you. You will hear the truth in my words and believe it for yourself."
She risked a glance at his face, to see if he was mocking her. The seriousness she found there startled her. He turned abruptly and took a seat on the plush chaise lounge.
"Come here."
She started to rise to go to him.
"No, on your knees. Come to me on your knees."
She looked at him, the fight coming back to her. She lifted her skirt in defiance. She flashed a small amount of thigh to him before dropping to her hands and knees. She put as much grace into her crawl as she could. Flashing him saucy looks as she approached. When she could see the stitches on his boots she stopped.
"Closer."
She crawled a little closer.
"Closer."
When her knees were inches from the toes of his boots she stopped. He reached his hand towards her, she placed her hand in his. He pulled her closer, edging her shoulders between his knees.
"There you are, sweetness," he stroked her face again, brushing his thumb against her lower lip. She nipped at him.
"Feisty, aren't you?" He gripped her chin roughly between his fingers, tilting her face up so he could look in her eyes. "Do you insist on pushing every boundary? Do you want me to punish you? Do you want me to hurt you?"
"I can't help it."
He laughed. It was deep and rich and full of amusement.
"Is your self-control so poor?"
She bristled at the jibe.
"No," she said with a pout. "It isn't."
"Good. Very good. Now exert some and show me you can behave."
She placed her hands in her lap, and kept her gaze towards the floor. He stroked her hair for awhile, not saying anything. Slowly she started to relax into him. When her head drooped a little more, he cupped her chin in his hand and pulled her upright. He brought his lips to hers and tasted her. Gently, lightly, almost chastely. He kissed her until her hands started to slide up his thighs, his free hand twisted into the hair at the base of her neck. Her hands stopped their progress and simply rested. His kiss became deeper, more demanding. The hand at the base of her neck gripped tighter and she gasped. He stood, brushing himself against her before pulling her roughly to her feet.
He walked her to the giant poster bed in the room and threw her on the comforter. She scrambled to the far side of the bed.
"Come here."
She looked at him, not sure what to expect. He reached for her, grabbed her by the wrist and drug her to him.
"Why must you continue to test me?"
He fastened her wrist into a locking cuff and stepped away from the bed. She pulled on the restraint, it was secure. He walked to the other side of the bed and held out his hand.
She regarded him for a moment before cautiously placing her wrist in his waiting hand.
"Very good."
He locked her other wrist to the bed. She faced the head board, still resting on her knees.
"Your body is my playground tonight. It is mine to do with what I wish. But your body is also a sacred place that must be respected. If ever anything becomes too much this evening and you would like to stop, simply utter the word. If that word passes your lips I will stop. The evening will end. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Better. Now what is the word?"
Her breath escaped in a shy whisper.
"I'm sorry, love, that wasn't loud enough. I want there to be no doubt that you know I know what your word is."
She took a deep breath, "pamplemousse."
"Very good. Now, relax. Trust me. Take pleasure in this evening. Let yourself go. I am here, I will catch you. Lie down."
She lay down on her stomach on the plush comforter, she tried not to tense when her grabbed first one ankle and then the other and restrained her. He checked all her bonds, making sure they weren't too tight or too loose.
"Let us begin."
He opened the drawer on the chest next to the bed. In it was an array of bright, sharp knives. So many styles, lying in red velvet winking at her like stars. She shivered, the fear was starting to creep up her spine.
"You are lovely. Without decoration. It is a shame to have you so covered."
He selected a wicked looking little blade and settled himself behind her. He gripped the top of the silk gown and started slicing through it. She jerked at the sound of tearing fabric.
"Careful, love, I'd hate to spill your blood on accident. Let me play a little and we will let it run down that smooth skin of yours."
When he had sliced through, top to bottom, he peeled the fabric apart. She felt exposed to him, her arms spread. Her legs spread, completely at his mercy. She could feel the skin on her body grow hot and flush.
"Perfection."
He tossed the remnants of the garment to the floor and selected another blade from his collection. Small, and clean lined it reminded her of a scalpel. He admired the gleaming edge of it in the light. He brought it to her buttocks. She flinched away from him.
"Still shy? I have something to help with that."
He pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and held it in front of her.
"Will this help?" He didn't wait for an answer and secured it around her head. He kissed her eyelids and stroked her body. His caresses were gentle, the awakened her. All her nerve endings were firing. Everything felt more intense. She gasped when she felt the cool touch of metal. He drew it slowly across her skin. The sharp sting let her know that he had cut her. She felt the blood pool on her skin, when it started to slide down her side she shivered again. The next sharp sting made her gasp. Her shoulder this time, when she felt his lips on the wound she moaned.
"Such beauty, even in pain you are beautiful."
She smiled, "it doesn't hurt."
