Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
On the very top of the six-foot tall box is an outrageously large hot-pink bow that perfectly matches the packaging tape I left around the edges. From one of its curled ribbons hangs an oversized card I made him, containing a plastic box that I know will add a little something special for the tech nerd who occupies the same body as an ultra-kinky former sadist.
So there’s no way my genius husband will misunderstand the assignment.
Giddy now, still nervous but my excitement surpassing it, I reach back to the switch on the wall that will turn on the red light outside Playroom 2, indicating it’s in use. With the club still mostly dark, I’m positive Seven sees it the second I flip it and starts counting down from sixty. So I hurry as fast but safely as I can in the monstrously high heels over to the cardboard box, opening the flaps, stepping inside, snatching the index card off the interior wall I taped it to, then using the small finger-width holes to pull them closed. Yesterday, I stabbed through the package with scissors when I realized I couldn’t pull the darn flaps all the way shut from the inside while I tested if I’d fit with these shoes on. And in this moment, I’m grateful for the height the holes landed—a happy accident that gives me the perfect view of the second my Master enters the room.
His eyes immediately land on the glistening stripper pole, since that’s what’s straight ahead when one opens the curtain. But seeing I’m not over there, his brow furrows slightly until they come to the corner I’m hidden in. I love that we’re here without having to wear masks, because I can see the sexy smirk on his face before he turns and attaches the velvet curtain to the hook on the wall that will ensure it stays shut.
But when he faces inside once again and starts slowly approaching the giant present, my stomach flips, and I fight the urge to burst out of the box and tell him “never mind!” I suddenly feel like prey caught in a trap, watching as a predator prowls toward me licking its chops, even as Seven’s mouth stays in its sensual smile.
I can’t run. I never fight. So my fear instincts choose what it always does, and I freeze.
But this time, I’m conscious of it. I was counting on it. And I remember this is all part of the plan.
I still sense the fear inside me, the choked feeling petrifying my body in place. Yet with great effort, I take a deep breath and let it out quiet and slow, relaxing just enough to arrange my face into the expression I practiced in my bathroom mirror every chance I got the past few days. With one last glance through the tiny peephole, as my husband—my delicious Dom—comes to stand right in front of the box I’m inside, I then cast my gaze downward, turning myself into the perfectly obedient, respectful submissive I dream to be.
CHAPTER 12
Seven
What the—?
When I pulled open the curtain just enough to step through, I spotted a new addition to my favorite playroom. A stripper pole, gold instead of the more common chrome, and behind the padded play table in the center of the room, I can make out the top of what must be a chair. The perfect set-up for enjoying a private dance. But one thing is missing.
My tiny dancer.
Out the corner of my eye, something else shiny and glistening beneath a spotlight pulls my attention. It takes a split second for my mind to catch up with what I’m seeing, because for the past decade, a custom-welded cage bed has taken up that corner of this room. But instead, a box nearly as tall as me with a bright pink bow on top is in its place.
My stomach drops to my balls in disappointment, but I school my features, in case Twyla is watching me. My first thought is that she’s given me what I feared she might—one of the sex dolls she ordered. She could be hidden somewhere in the room, the dim lighting causing different equipment and apparatuses to cast shadows in all sorts of places in the large space.
As I turn to hook the curtain closed, I glimpse her clothes she had been wearing scattered on the floor, and her toiletries bag and tote are on top of the trunk meant to hold her belongings during a scene. A wicked smile tugs my lips as I think about punishing my little sub for overlooking one of the simplest tasks she’s supposed to complete every single time we play. But remembering how nervous and hurried she was before she left my side, I might take it easy on her. This time.