Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5

by Natasha Moore

  On her.

  Julianne lowered her gaze to a point on the floor just before her knees. Somehow knowing he would be binding her gave her a sense of calm and well-being she hadn’t expected. Her heartbeat began to slow. She remembered the erotic sensation of ropes around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the chair. Keeping her secure. Protected.

  As long as she was bound, she didn’t care what he did to her. It didn’t matter. She was safe.

  She knew it wasn’t logical. Being unable to move to defend herself if necessary shouldn’t make her feel that way. But the more she tried to make sense of it, the more rapid her heartbeat became. The faster her breathing was. She soon lost that nice calm she’d been enjoying.

  “You are thinking too much again,” Paolo called out to her. “Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Count to five, in and out, if you need to. It will be okay.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. As she worked to slow down her breathing she reminded herself that what mattered was that she wanted to be here. With Paolo. She wanted ropes wrapped around her wrists. She wanted the security of the bondage. As long as that was part of her submission, she’d agree to anything he said. Anything he wanted to do.

  The sound of metal clanking softly made her eyes fly open. Paolo walked toward her with lengths of chain in his hands. He looked down on her and spoke softly. “Straighten your shoulders. Do not hunch your back. Lower your gaze.”

  She nodded and corrected her posture.

  “Good. Much better.”

  He set the chains on the floor in front of her and then turned and walked away from her again. With her eyes lowered, the chains were all she could see. The pile of links looked as if they might slither around her like a nest of cold silver snakes. A chill slinked down her spine.

  The toes of his black shoes appeared in her vision. It killed her not to look up at him. She could hear more clanks of metal. Was he carrying more chain? What would the cold metal feel like on her skin? He dropped something onto the tall table on the other side of the door. More than one something from the clattering sounds. Then there was silence as he stood before her and she stared at the toes of his shoes.

  “What is your safe word?” His question made her jump.

  “Chardonnay,” she whispered. Nerves jumbled in her stomach. Was she going to need her safe word tonight?

  “Good. You can stand now, Julianne.”

  She looked up and saw him smiling down at her, his hand outstretched. She let him help her to her feet. She was really going to have to practice getting up and down more gracefully.

  Once she was standing, her attention was immediately drawn to the items in Paolo’s hands. Metal cuffs, a couple inches wide. Her eyes grew large and her lips parted on a soft gasp. Her heart sped up again as she imagined how they would feel on her wrists.

  “Julianne.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the stern tone got her attention.

  “Sorry.” She lowered her eyes but that brought her gaze back to the coiling chain at her feet.

  “When you stand before me, put your hands behind you, right palm over left, in the small of your back. Keep your shoulders back. No hunching in this position either. Feet a little more than shoulder width apart. I want you to be comfortable because you may need to hold this pose for long periods of time. I require access to every part of this body at all times. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. Her sex clenched. His soft words, spoken with authority, spoken with affection, touched something deep inside her.

  “Again, keep your gaze lowered unless I tell you differently. It is not up to you to worry about what is going to happen. That is my job. Yours is only to be ready. Understand?”

  Her mind wasn’t altogether sure, but somewhere deep inside, it made all kinds of sense. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Look at me now.”

  Her gaze leapt to his face, to those deep blue eyes that seemed to see into her soul. She soaked in his handsome image while she could, while she was still allowed.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  She reached out her hands to him, stared down at the shiny silver cuffs he held.

  “There are many kinds of bondage,” he said. “Last week we used rope. It was your choice, remember?”

  She nodded.

  “Rope is soft. It gives with movement. It is a silent bondage.” He clasped a wide cuff around her wrist. “Metal is different. It has sound.” The metal was cold and hard and heavy. It clicked sharply as it closed.

  “It has weight,” he went on, as if he knew what she was thinking. He reached over to the table and picked up a tiny padlock, hooked it and snapped it in place. “It locks in place until I release you.” He picked the second shackle off the floor and cuffed her other wrist, then locked it as well. They could almost be heavy-duty bracelets except for the padlocks. And the O ring on each cuff, of course. What would it feel like if they were chained together? Or chained to something else?

  “How do they feel?” he asked.

  “Heavier,” she said. She moved her arms, felt the cuffs slide over her wrists with the movement. The edges were slightly rounded so the metal didn’t rub against her skin. Still… “I think they might hurt if I struggled.”

  “I am sure you are right. Do you plan on struggling?”

  She caught his level gaze. “No.”

  “Then you should be fine. I will remember not to use them when we role play.”

  Role playing. A chill ran over her at the thought that they might actually do something during a play date where she might want to struggle.

  Paolo picked up the wide collar. “Hold up your hair.”

  The cuffs slid heavily as she raised her arms and lifted her hair off her neck. He circled her throat with the cold metal, snapped another lock in place at the back of her neck. The smooth metal rested against her collar bone, loose enough that she barely felt it when she swallowed, yet the weight was a constant reminder.

  “You can drop your hair now.” Julianne let her hands fall to her sides. Did he want her to put them behind her back?

  “Hands out in front again,” he said before she had a chance to wonder any longer. The chain clattered when Paolo picked it up off the floor. Paolo threaded the chain through the O ring on the collar, crossed the links between her breasts and then wound both ends of the chain around her waist a couple times. Finally, he used hooks on each end to attach to the shackles to the chain.

  Her wrists were now held against her body at her waist. The cool metal quickly warmed to body temperature as she stood there.

  “Does it hurt anywhere?” he asked. Paolo walked around her, checking the chains, making sure it wasn’t pinching her skin anywhere.

  “No. It doesn’t hurt.”

  “How does it feel?” he asked as he came back around in front of her. “How do you feel?”

  “Okay. It feels okay. I feel okay.”

  Paolo tipped her chin up with his finger, locked his gaze with hers. “Talk to me, Julianne.” She didn’t like making him frown. “I cannot know if this is right for you if you do not let me know.”

  “I don’t know how I feel right now,” she said. “It’s almost too much to process. Too much to think about. I don’t want to think right now.” He didn’t let her look away. She took a deep breath. “This is all new. It’s not bad. I don’t want to use my safe word or anything. I guess I feel more like a slave in the chains. The weight, the sounds, speak to something inside me and I don’t know yet whether I like it or not.”

  “Fair enough,” he said softly. He released his hold on her chin, but waited as if he knew she’d want to continue. That even though she’d said she didn’t want to think about it, now that she’d started, the thoughts and feelings came pouring out.

  She tugged with her shackled wrists at the chains circling her waist, then pushed back the tiny thread of panic. “I don’t feel the same security that I felt with the rope, but maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe I don’t always want to feel safe. This is
a more primal feeling. More raw. Rougher. Scarier.”

  Paolo had begun to stroke her breasts as she was talking and ripples of sensations skimmed over her skin. “But in the back of your mind,” he said, “you know you are safe with me. Is that not right, Julianne?”

  He pinched her nipples and she gasped, but she didn’t know whether it was from the sharp pain or the realization that he was correct. She nodded.

  “So now as you submit to whatever I require of you, to whatever I want to do to you, you can allow yourself to experience it all. The arousing. The unfamiliar. The frightening.” He lightly slapped her breasts and she surprised herself by not pulling away, but actually arching into the strikes. “You know you do not need to pull back because no matter what, you are safe with me.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good.” He cupped her face and brushed his lips across hers. “If we accomplish nothing else tonight, you have learned an important lesson.” He surprised her by unhooking the chain from her wrists.

  She dropped her arms to her sides. “Are we finished tonight?”

  “Do you want to be finished?”

  “No, sir.”

  “That is very good because I have much more planned for you. I wanted you to get the feel for the chains tonight. I may bind you with them during another session.” He unwound the chain from around her body, uncrossed it from her breasts, then pulled it through the ring in the collar. The links clinked as they hit the floor. When he reached the end of the chain, he attached it to the collar. “Do you remember the standing pose?”

  Shit. “Yes, sir.” She quickly spread her legs and tucked her hands into the small of her back. When she saw his frown she remembered to lower her gaze.

  “Soon I expect this pose to become second nature to you,” he said. “I will correct you a couple times, Julianne, but if you continue to forget, you should expect to be punished so that you will not forget again. Do you understand?”

  She’d read often about punishments when researching online and she shivered. “Yes, sir.” The tail of the chain curled on the floor between her bare feet.

  “Good.” He lightly brushed his hand over her hair, then turned and walked away from her. Julianne fought the urge to look up. Would she ever lose the desire to peek? To want to know what he had in store for her next? Would she ever lose her curiosity, her need to know what he had planned?

  Of course not. And she was certain Paolo was well aware of that. It’s why he wouldn’t tell her in the car what he had planned. He knew the anticipation, the wondering, the uncertainty, helped build the arousal. And he probably knew it also drove her crazy.

  “Come here, Julianne.”

  She looked up to see him sitting in the center of the sofa, his arms stretched out over the back. Was he really as relaxed as he appeared to be? A slight tremor of apprehension ran over her skin.

  “Aren’t you going to blindfold me first?”

  He frowned and she realized her mistake immediately. She shouldn’t be asking those kinds of questions. It sounded as if she thought she knew better than him. That wasn’t a good thing. For how long could she use her nerves as an excuse for the stupid things that came out of her mouth?

  “No. Not tonight,” he replied. He smiled slightly as if he could tell she realized her mistake. “I want us to become familiar with each other this evening. We cannot do that if you are not able to see me.”

  “Right.”

  He beckoned her with one hand. “Come to me. Now.” This time he used a tone that told her he wouldn’t ask so nicely again.

  Julianne walked slowly across the room, the chain hanging between her breasts. It dragged and pulled between her legs as she walked, rubbing against the sensitive folds of her sex. The sound of the metal links scraping along the floor added to her feeling of being a slave. She stopped when she reached the sofa, then quickly assumed the standing pose he’d taught her.

  While she waited impatiently for him to tell her what he wanted her to do, he seemed to be content to sit there and look her over. At least she assumed that’s what he was doing. She had her gaze lowered and she couldn’t see much more than his legs. She strived to keep her breathing slow and even. Counting to five as he’d suggested seemed to help. She focused on his knee and counted again.

  “Look at me, Julianne.” She raised her eyes and saw Paolo pat the sofa on either side of his thighs. “I want to learn this body. Stretch out here on your stomach.”

  He wanted her to spread herself over his lap? Did she sit down on his jean-covered thighs first and then turn over? Did she climb onto the sofa beside him on her hands and knees and then crawl over him? Or did she lunge? While she struggled with her choices, he sat there, looking increasingly impatient as he waited for her to obey him.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked impatiently.

  She didn’t intend to upset him and the fact that she did made her stomach ache. “No, sir. I don’t know how to gracefully sprawl over you.”

  He laughed then and relief washed over her and loosened the knots in her stomach. “Come here.” He leaned forward and grabbed the chain hanging from the heavy collar around her neck. When he tugged, she fell very ungracefully onto his lap. Another second later, he’d flipped her onto her stomach and stretched her over his lap. The erection behind his zipper jutted hard and hot into her stomach. He pulled the chain out of the way so she wasn’t laying on the links, but he left it hooked on to the collar.

  “Arms over your head,” he said. He pressed her head down onto the sofa cushion and ran his hands along her arms so that they stretched over her. He pushed on her cuffed wrists. “Palms flat on the cushions. Leave your hands there. I do not want you to lift your head or your hands until I tell you that you can.”

  Paolo began to run his hands over her body, starting with her outstretched arms, caressing her with long, sure strokes. At first his strokes warmed her, relaxed her, as his hands rubbed her back, skimmed over her ribs. When he reached her bottom, he began to knead the flesh, his strong fingers digging into her ass, the force just short of painful. She couldn’t stop from wriggling when his fingers dipped between her cheeks. He swatted her sharply.

  “Stop squirming,” he said. “I am learning this body. I need to get familiar with every curve, every crease, every expanse of skin. And you need to become comfortable with my hands on you, with my hands going anywhere I want them to be.”

  She sighed, closed her eyes and let his hands roam. It was so hard not to move. The only consolation was the fact that his erection was hard against her stomach and she knew he was as aroused as she was.

  Paolo ran his hands down both legs before he brought his fingers back up to the juncture of her thighs. He pushed her legs apart and began to play with the slick flesh there. Julianne groaned with the effort to lie as still as possible as he brushed his fingertips over her clit. Then he thrust two or three fingers deep inside her.

  “This is my body,” he growled, grasping her tightly. “Mine to do whatever I want to. My body. Yes?”

  She froze. She might feel the urge to submit, but that didn’t mean he owned her body. Did it? “Um…” She lifted her head to look up at him, but she only had a split second to see another frown on his face before he pushed her back down with his free hand.

  “I did not say you could move.” He slid his fingers from her core and spanked her, once, quick and hard.

  Julianne cried out, curled her hands into fists above her head. And arched her ass into his hand.

  Paolo rubbed his fingers lightly over her ass, then spanked her again, even harder. Julianne buried her face in the cushion of the sofa to muffle the sound of her cries as he spanked over and over again. But as one hand struck her bottom, the other gently stroked her back. The thuds from the spanking vibrated straight between her legs, arousing her as much as his fingers had.

  The spanking may have lasted a few minutes or it might have been hours. As it had the week before, somehow the pain from the strikes convert
ed into a lovely haze of pleasure and Julianne lost all sense of time, of place, of anything but Paolo’s hands on her, his heavy breathing a counter rhythm to the slaps of hand to flesh.

  She didn’t even realize she was squirming again until he gave her an extra hard strike and held her hips down, pressing his hand onto her sore ass. “Julianne, you must lie still.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered, and then bit down on her lip before she begged him to spank her some more.

  “Such a pretty red,” he said softly. “And the skin is so hot.” Paolo began to rub her bottom, the skin burning, aching, beneath his touch. “I spanked you because you moved when I commanded you to stay still. But more than that, I spanked you because I wanted to. Because you gave me that power when you consented to submit to me.” He dragged his fingers over her and even though the pressure hurt, zaps of arousal shot between her legs. “Do you remember?”

  She nodded, her face still buried in the sofa cushions.

  “This ass is mine to make red and hot if I so desire. Yes?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He spread her legs and spanked her hard on her wet pussy. “This is mine. Yes?”

  “Yes,” she groaned.

  He pumped his fingers in and out of her again, building her arousal once more, but too soon he pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her feeling empty. He pressed his thumb against her anus, pushing hard, almost breaching the tight muscles. “This is mine. Yes?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  He wrapped her hair around his hand and yanked her head up, delivered a bruising kiss to her lips. His gaze locked with hers. “This mouth is mine. Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  He effortlessly flipped her over to her back. The chain caught on her breast, clattering as it dragged on the floor. It brushed across her nipple as Paolo impatiently pushed it aside.

  “Keep your arms over your head,” he ordered, then began to run his hands over her body, across every inch, as he had promised when they’d first gotten there. As crazy as it sounded, it almost felt too intimate. She was naked, draped over his fully-clothed lap, while he studied every part of her body, while he touched her, slapped her, stroked her. It had been easier when she’d been blindfolded.