by Rock, Vivie
‘If you misbehave, little whore, then you’re going to get punished.’ He lifted up a wand of some kind, with what looked like twigs tied together into a thick rod. He smacked the floor with it, suddenly, and the crack it produced was so loud and violent that I winced. My hands strained automatically, trying to cover my ears, but my hands were restrained around my back, so the sound just reverberated against my ear drums painfully. This was all I needed as a warning. I didn’t want to get punished.
‘Let’s get you out of those cuffs, then,’ he said, pressing his body up against me again as he unlocked my cuffs. He took another deep breath of the scented oils on my skin, then said: ‘Get on the floor.’
I knelt on the floor, the freezing concrete rough and unpleasant against my skin, changing my knees and shins. But if Mr. Cooper saw me wincing, it didn’t deter him in any way.
He pulled the rope out of his box, which looked longer than the one he’d shown me at his apartment, or perhaps I had just been too drunk or too shocked to take it in properly the first time, and he stood in front of me, holding the rope to my face, rubbing its coarse surface up against my cheek. ‘You look pretty without your clothes on, Rose,’ he said softly. ‘With this rope around your limbs, you’re going to be stunning.’
I sat perfectly straight while he maneuvred behind me, and then I felt the flat of his palm on my throat. He held me firmly, not like he was choking me – in fact, it was more like he was protecting me, enveloping me in his arms. His other hand sought my stomach, lay flat against it, pressing hard but not hurting me. He remained still then, and I could feel the warm pulse under his skin, travelling into me. It made me shiver with a kind of heat. I felt like his essence was travelling into me.
Then he stopped, whipped one of his hands back, producing the rope, and pulling it tight across my chest. He looped it around my arms, then I felt him tugging it quickly at the back, swiftly tying a knot, my arms tied tightly at my sides. ‘I’ve wanted to do this to you since the first moment I saw you,’ he growled in my ear. ‘Since I saw you standing on stage that night, trembling and crying. I wanted to take your pretty little arms and tie them tight around your back.’ He tied another knot beneath my armpit, the shock of his fingers so near to my breast making me gasp, and then he pulled the rope across my torso again, this time right underneath my breasts.
‘Please!’ I gasped. I wasn’t sure what the please meant. Please stop? Please carry on? Please fuck me?
Mr. Cooper ignored me, yanking the rope tight, and then tying another knot at my back. This time he grabbed the rope under my breasts hard, and pulled. I felt it cut into my ribcage, flatten my arms, pushing them right into my sides. I closed my eyes, feeling the slight burn from the rope, the shock of his fingers as they moved gently over me one minute, then swiftly pulled the rope, jerking my body and making it hard to breathe the next. Sometimes, his hands stopped and rested on my skin for a moment, as they had done at the start, and I heard him breathing heavily behind me.
He pulled the rope down one side of my neck, letting the coarse fabric run across my throat, then yanked it diagonally across my chest between the breasts. He did the same on the other side. My nipples were standing on end.
Touch me, touch me…
‘Stand up,’ he said gruffly. I climbed to my feet with difficulty, unable to support myself with my hands, which he’d pulled behind me, crossed over my back and tied in place.
When I stood up, he pulled the rope at my back harder still, and I felt it pull taut across my chest. The way the ropes were positioned, along the top and bottom of my breasts, and then criss-crossing over the middle, pushed the mounds of flesh up and out in a way I’d never seen them before. My breasts were being squeezed by the ropes, like two hands grasping and pushing them, making them stick out at sharp angles, nipples straining. It felt sexual, somehow, this intense pressure clawing at them, making them sore and aroused.
‘This way,’ Mr. Cooper said, leading me across the warehouse floor, pulling on the rope to guide me, as if I was nothing more than his pet dog. I don’t think he’d even looked me in the eye since I got here. He was entirely wrapped up in his own activity, letting his gaze lock on to various parts of my body now and then, before losing interest in me and going back to his ropes once more. It felt like an odd sort of relief, not to have to worry about impressing anyone. To just be completely at their mercy. To let them take control of everything. I followed him silently, obediently, awaiting my fate.
Mr. Cooper stopped dead in the center of the room, and looked upwards. He reached above his head and pulled on a silver ring hanging from a beam between two pillars that I hadn’t noticed before. I wanted to ask him what it was, but it felt inappropriate to speak, so I just watched, and waited.
‘Stay still,’ he said, ‘or you’ll be punished.’
I stood as still as I possibly could, aware of every twitch of my muscles, feeling an itch spread across the delicate skin behind my left knee, as if trying to taunt me to move. I couldn’t scratch the itch anyway, since my hands were bound behind my back.
I felt Mr. Cooper pull the rope behind my back, and then looked above me to see him looping it over the silver ring. ‘I’m going to make you fly now,’ he said. ‘You’ll like that, won’t you, little whore? You’ll like to fly?’
I felt the rope tugging on my back, dreading what was about to happen.
‘Answer me,’ he said gruffly, suddenly looking me in the eye.
‘Sorry, sir,’ I said quickly. ‘Yes, I will like it, sir.’
He yanked the rope hard and I felt myself being hoisted up in the air, onto my tiptoes. The pressure of gravity weighing me down caused my flesh to push hard against the ropes that were fighting to keep me up. My breasts felt like they were being grasped harder than ever, pouting down towards the floor, rubbed red by the ropes. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to take the pain. Should I say ‘yellow’? Would he be angry with me if I said it so soon?
I felt the rope above me slacken and my heels touched the ground again. Mr. Cooper stood behind me, pulling the rope across my waist, his hands resting on my stomach, then travelling down to the soft space of skin of my womb. I felt like my skin was burning wherever he touched me. I had been shivering before, but I was boiling now, full of heat and electricity.
Swiftly, he took the rope between my legs, and created a harness at my pelvis, tying knots at the top of my thighs, and at the back, either side of my butt. His hands resting on my butt cheeks for a moment, and I felt a twinge of excitement between my legs, willing him to move his hands an inch further down, towards my soft center…
Then he came round in front of me and knelt before me, his face just inches from my pussy - could he smell me? Did I still smell of eastern oils? Of frankincense and ylang-ylang? Or did I smell of sweat? Or fear? Or sex?
He tied the rope around my left ankle, and then stood up slowly and deliberately, his face almost touching my body as he rose up before me. ‘You’ll do everything I say,’ he said, when he’d reached his full height, looking down at me. He hoisted me back up an inch, and then lifted up my left leg, bending it at he knee, so it bent back behind me, my ankle lifted up to my butt. My right foot was on its tiptoe, just about reaching the floor. I was shaking and unsteady, the ropes pulling at the flesh all over me, binding me tight, like I was caught in a web. It pulled at my flesh so much, cutting into me and causing my flesh to bulge out in ways I’d never seen it before. I could see why it was best not to be too bony for this. The rope would surely push right against the bone. My extra padding gave me some cushioning.
‘Lift your right leg off the floor,’ Mr. Cooper said. ‘Bend it behind you.’
I was scared that once I did that I’d lose control completely. I’d be completely restrained. He’d tie my right leg behind me just like the left one, and I’d be surrendering myself to this man entirely. Could I do it?
My unsteady ankle was causing my foot to shake on the floor.
Surrender, Rose
… You said you would…
I closed my eyes, felt the rope around my body, took a few long, deep breaths, then bent my knee and lifted my leg up off the ground. I screwed up my eyes, half-expecting my face to smash down against the floor, but– nothing. I hung suspended, safe, while Mr. Cooper tied a few quick knots around my ankle, attaching it to my butt behind me.
My legs were bent behind me and splayed apart, revealing my soft pink pussy. I wondered if he could see it. Whether he could tell, just by looking at me, that I was a virgin. Whether he could tell I was aroused. I wondered whether he was aroused.
‘Breathe,’ he said. ‘You haven’t breathed yet.’
I inhaled sharply, then exhaled. I was shaking. The ropes pulled against my breasts, my stomach, my hips, my legs… I breathed again. I imagined, rather than being in some sort of web, now, that I was enveloped in a cradle. That each rope was a reassuring hand, holding me up, encircling me, protecting me. I felt my breaths become deeper and slower. I began to feel safe. Sleepy, even. I heard Mr. Cooper’s footsteps moving around me, circling me, taking me all in. I hoped he was happy. I felt like I wanted nothing more than to make him happy.
I opened my eyes and watched his boots moving on the floor beneath me. I didn’t dare look up at him, in case the spell broke. I’d never felt so exposed but so safe at the same time.
Mr. Cooper grabbed me by the thighs and twisted my body around a little. The silver ring rotated, I realized, and he could spin me around on it. He stood directly behind me, and I wondered for a moment whether he was going to fuck me. I’d read about sex swings. He was probably just the right height to do it. Did I want it to happen like this?
I heard his fingers fumbling in his pants.
Red? Should I shout red?
Or… green?
Quickly, he span me around until he was in front of my head.
I saw the flicker of black satin, and then felt the sheer fabric being pulled across my eyelids. I snapped my eyes shut and everything went black. He tied the material in a tight knot around my head. Strange to say it, perhaps, but it felt even better to have something tied around my head too. Like I was being cradled even more securely. He left me hanging beside him for a moment, and I felt the heat coming off his body, standing beside me in silence.
Then I heard him walking away, leaving me hanging there, blind, completely and totally at his mercy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Terrible, Forbidden, Wonderful
I don’t know how long he was gone for. I couldn’t see or hear a thing. I was just hanging there, swaying ever so slightly from side to side as the weight of my body hung from the ring above me.
When the footsteps returned they were slow, meaningful, like a lion closing in on its prey. It sounded like they were a few meters away from me when they stopped. Then I heard something new. A click. The click of a camera button being pressed. And again.
Click. Click.
Then more footsteps.
I’d forgotten about the photographs. It felt horrifying, suddenly, thinking about that extra ‘eye’ looking at me. It was one thing having my boss see me with my legs splayed apart like this. The terrifying thought popped into my head that he might show these photographs to someone else. Attach them to a round robin email sent to all staff at work? Cc’d to my old boss, Christina, for added humiliation. Oh god. I felt so vulnerable.
‘Mr. Cooper,’ I said warily. ‘You’re not going to show these photos to anyone, are you?’
The sound of the camera stopped, and for a few moments, there was nothing but silence.
‘I didn’t say you could ask questions,’ he said angrily. He stepped right up close to me and grabbed my hair, swinging me about on the ring a little. ‘It sounds as if you don’t trust me, little whore.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I said, aware how often I’d been apologizing to him today.
‘Tell me “this little whore is sorry”,’ he commanded.
I shrieked as he gripped me by the butt, his fingers pressing hard into the soft flesh of my buttocks.
‘I’m sorry,’ I sobbed, unable to say it.
‘This little whore…’ he began.
‘Yellow!’ I cried, as his fingers pushed into me harder.
As soon as I uttered the word, his fingers retracted, and held me beneath my stomach, firmly but gently supporting me, giving me his strength for a moment. ‘I’m going to punish you now,’ he said. ‘Firstly, for asking questions without my permission. Secondly, for not doing as I told you. Do you understand that.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
I heard him pick something up off the floor, and then felt his hands on my ass again. ‘Are you going to take the punishment like a good girl?’ he asked, his voice a little more tender than it had been before.
‘Yes, sir,’ I said, growing in bravery, relieved to know that I had the power to make him stop anything I didn’t want. That ‘yellow’ had made him stop hurting me at once. That, despite our game, whatever it was were were doing with one another, he still respected me. That in one way, at least, I was still in control. ‘This little whore needs to be punished,’ I said timidly, enjoying the terrible, forbidden sound of the words as they came out of my mouth. I felt like I’d never said anything so naughty in all my life. It felt amazing to say something so bad, and be considered a ‘good girl’ for doing so.
He placed one hand firmly beneath my stomach, his fingers splayed out over me. His hands were so large that he covered the space from beneath my breasts, right down to my pubis, all the way across my abdomen.
Then, there was silence.
The first thing I was aware of was the almighty crack. The pain came afterwards. A delayed reaction. And then a terrible sting across my buttocks. A pain like that, so close to my exposed buttocks – it felt so scary. This man had the power to really injure me, if he wanted to. Before I had the chance to properly process it, the same thing happened again.
Another crack.
This time, the pain seared. I cried out. I’d never felt pain like it. I’d had my wisdom teeth taken out, and experienced the ache of my gums as the painkillers wore off. I’d scraped my knee when I fell off my bike as a a girl. I’d had an ear infection and cried myself to sleep three nights in a row when I was a teenager. But nothing like this. It was like the stick had split me open.
I hung there, while my boss remained silent, and I had no idea what was coming next. My skin was throbbing. And, something I hadn’t expected at all, and almost felt embarrassed to admit to myself, is that my pussy was throbbing too. It was as if the pain had travelled down through my stomach, and transferred into a tingling sensation between my legs.
Crack. He hit me again.
I shrieked.
My pussy throbbed even more.
I didn’t know whether I was in agony, or turned on, or both.
‘Re–’ I started to shout out, unsure whether I wanted to use the safeword, but it had just started to pop out, like some kind of automatic reaction. ‘Redmond!’ I screamed, changing my mind at the last minute and screaming out my boss’ name.
The hand holding me by the stomach grew rigid, less gentle, less supporting, and my boss whipped me again. And again. And again. ‘Never call me that,’ he said, in the most serious tone I had ever heard him use. ‘It’s sir.’ And he cracked the rod against me one more time to make sure I’d understood.
Each time the rod touched me, I screwed up my eyes beneath the blindfold, and cried out involuntarily, but each time the throbbing between my legs grew harder. I was in a lot of pain, but I was amazed to discover that I was actually growing wet down there. I wondered if it was obvious, if my boss could sense it.
‘Rose,’ he said, his voice appearing suddenly up close to my ear, like he was the voice inside my head. ‘I was going to take you down now. But I’m going to leave you hanging here for an extra five minutes as punishment.’
His face moved away from mine, and his hands let go of me, and he left
me there, swinging on the rope, which was creaking ever so slightly as my body pulled at it.
I wasn’t sure where Mr. Cooper was standing, or if perhaps he’d walked away. The blood was pumping so hard in me now that I could hear my own heartbeat. My pulse was racing, and my ass was stinging. I felt my chest fishing and falling fast, but it was too contained by the ropes to breathe as hard as my lungs wanted to.
Eventually, though, my pulse slowed down, the stinging became sharper, more focused, so that I could feel the lines of exactly where the rod had hit me. I concentrated on the pain, weirdly enjoying the feeling of it. I had never felt this alive. So aware of my own mortality.
The more that my body relaxed, the safer I began to feel, until eventually, after a couple of minutes, it was as though I was enveloped in a cocoon, warm and cosy, listening to nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat and breathing, like I was floating through space, peaceful and dreamy.
And then, somewhere behind me, I heard the sound of his breath. Fast, and heavy. Growing faster. Heavier. Faster.
And then silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Healing
None of us had spoken for ten minutes. Not me, not Mr. Cooper, and not the chauffeur. We were driving back towards Mr. Cooper’s apartment, and none of us had said a word since getting in the limo. Mr. Cooper was staring out of he window as if in a daze.
I had felt so good while I had been tied up. So strangely free, like I had finally achieved something I’d been yearning for all my life, without even knowing it. I had felt safe too, and wanted. I had been almost euphoric. But now – he wasn’t even talking to me. Three hours had passed by, the most intense three hours of my life, and now it was as if we barely knew each other.
As the limo took us slowly through the busy New York streets, I felt broken. Back in the warehouse, I felt like I’d transformed into the most beautiful ornament, delicate and precious like a Chinese case, but now, it’s as if I’d slipped through Mr. Cooper’s hands, and I”d just smashed on the floor.