Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“All right,” I finally say.
“You’ll be tempted to look away,” he says. “That’s normal. These acts are private. But if you want to look, look.”
I nod. “Do you like to look?” I ask shyly.
“I’m not a voyeur,” he says, “but I enjoy the art of bondage. I come into this room to see the art more than the intimate acts.”
“I see.”
“Ready?” He clasps the doorknob.
“Ready.”
He opens the door. An attendant sits right inside the door. “Mr. Black,” he says simply.
“Good evening,” Braden says. “My guest and I are here to observe this evening.”
“Very good.”
Braden takes my hand, and we step into the room.
And I nearly lose my footing.
The room is huge, the lighting is brighter, and the walls are white, which surprises me in an underground club. I was expecting dim light and black and red.
But I soon realize why the walls are white and the light not as dim as before.
Works of art are everywhere. Human works of art.
While the rope used in the photos I saw in Braden’s library was all natural colored, the bindings in this room range from black to red to purple to green. Some multicolored.
Braden leads me around the room to observe. We stop first to watch a man whose arms and feet are bound with intricately knotted dark-blue rope. “This is an example of shibari,” Braden says.
I lift my brows.
“It’s a Japanese bondage form that uses simple but intricate patterns. Go ahead. Take a good look.”
A woman wearing a corset similar to mine but no thong whips the man lightly with a flogger.
“Is this the kind of bondage you want to do to me?” I ask.
“No. What I do uses quite a bit more rope.”
I nod. Like the photos I saw in his library.
“I’ll go easy on you tonight,” he says. “Baby steps.”
Except, as I watch the show in front of me, I don’t want baby steps. I want to go all in.
All fucking in.
We walk to the next scene. A woman is bound in natural-colored rope, the knots intricately wound all the way from her ankles to her thighs. Her wrists are bound together and hooked to what looks like a pommel horse. Her partner, another woman, is fucking her from behind using a strap-on. I hold back a gasp. I’ve never seen a strap-on before, though I know they exist. As the submissive’s legs aren’t spread, she must be tight, and the dildo the other woman wears is not small.
“That’s right, you slut. I’m fucking you good, aren’t I?”
The woman doesn’t respond.
She’s probably been told not to.
On to the next scene.
A curvy woman is bound with black rope and lying on her back on a leather table. A ball gag is in her mouth. Her wrists and ankles are bound together, and a well-endowed dark-haired man is fucking her boldly.
This room seems to go on forever. We watch several more scenes, and though Braden said not all of these scenes would include sex, most of them do.
I’ve soaked my thong already, and I want Braden badly.
Does he know what this is doing to me?
My clit is throbbing, and I yearn, more than anything, to touch myself. Even bound up in this corset, I want to swirl my fingers around my clit and force an orgasm.
I know it won’t work. Only Braden can make me come.
I only want Braden to make me come.
I’m lost in a fantasy of being bound and fucked when we come to a scene that leaves me spellbound.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
My nipples strain against the corset, and I suck in a breath. Braden has left me plenty of room to breathe in the garment, but now it’s too tight. I’m panting. I’m aching.
A beautiful dark-haired woman sits on her knees in front of a well-toned blond man. She’s bound with dark-red rope that begins around her neck. From there, it loops over her shoulders and over her breasts, her nipples protruding through two tight knots.
The rope curves over her abdomen and around her hips, and then it coils over her thighs and calves, forcing her into the kneeling position.
The man pulls on the rope around her neck, and she gasps softly.
My whole body tingles with current. Sparks slide through me, and my already wet pussy gushes.
The man strips off his black pants, releasing a giant cock. He pulls the woman toward him and shoves it into her mouth.
What is different about this scene? They’ve all been titillating, but this one…
This one makes me yearn.
For what? I’m not sure.
Something about her position, the ropes binding her.
“Skye.” Braden breathes against my neck.
“Hmm?”
“Do you like what you see here?”
Does he mean the whole room? Or this scene? I’m not sure.
“Yes,” I say, my breath catching.
“There’s a lot more to see in this club, but for now, we’re going to my private suite.”
Private suite? Of course. He owns the club. “Does anyone…watch us there?”