Ruby
“I’m not going to blindfold you today.” Athena looks me up and down. “I want you to see yourself in the reflection of all those mirrors. I went easy on you last time, but today, I want you to watch.” She trails a finger down between my breasts. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll enjoy it.”
I swallow hard. Did she go easy on me last time? It didn’t feel like that. Part of me is glad I’m not blindfolded, but seeing myself is very confrontational. I’m cuffed to the ceiling, stripped to my black lingerie, and I’m so aroused I can barely stand still.
“Tell me what the safe word is,” she says.
“Pause.”
“Good Girl.” She brings her lips close to mine but doesn’t kiss me. And then, in a whisper, she adds, “You’re mine, Ruby.”
I smile, meeting her eyes. For a split second, all theatre falls away and it’s just us, connecting.
Athena steps back, her eyes never leaving mine as she circles me slowly. The mirrors reflect her movements, creating an endless loop of her predatory grace. I see myself in every angle—vulnerable, exposed, waiting.
“I want you to see what I see. I want you to see the way your skin flushes when you’re aroused, how your body responds to me before I even lay a hand on you.”
She searches for something in the chest of drawers and returns with a flogger. My breath catches.
“That’s what I mean. I heard that,” she says. The flogger traces my collarbone, then trails down between my breasts, following the path her finger took moments before. It tickles and the leather feels soft and supple.
She steps closer, her breath against my ear. Her free hand slides around my chest, her fingers slipping into my bra and pinching my nipple just hard enough to make me flinch. The flogger taps methodically against my thigh—once, twice, three times—a silent countdown.
“Why are you here, Ruby? Do you like to be spanked?”
I nod, transfixed by our reflection—her confidence against my uncertainty, her control against my surrender.
“I can’t hear you.” The flogger stops its tapping, hovering dangerously still.
“Yes,” I say, finding strength somewhere beneath my fear. I turn my head to meet her eyes. “And I’m here because I’m yours.”
Athena’s breath hitches. It’s barely audible, but I hear it. For a beat, she stares at me as if she’s taken aback, but she composes herself quickly. “Good girl.” She moves the flogger higher, tracing patterns along my inner thigh. My legs tremble, but her arm around my waist holds me steady.
“Watch,” she instructs, and I obey, meeting my own gaze in the mirror. It’s not just myself I see. There’s our audience, six women fixated on us. “See how your pupils dilate?” Athena continues. “How they darken with want?”
When I focus on my eyes, I realize the comment was a distraction because the flogger hits my behind hard, and I cry out.
My skin tingles and arousal shoots between my thighs. Fuck, it feels good.
“More?” she asks.
I nod, and immediately, she strikes me again. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes,” I plead through ragged breaths. “Yes, please.”
Another strike, harder. Hard enough to leave a mark for days. I suck in a breath, but Athena ignores my reaction.
“Morgan, bring me a Scotch, will you? On the rocks,” she says, and Morgan scurries off.
“I thought you preferred it neat.” I don’t know why the comment escapes me; it’s a ridiculous thing to say in the middle of all this, and it’s met with another smack. The sting accumulates; she’s made sure to hit the same spot each time and now it’s burning.
“Don’t speak unless I ask you to,” she hisses.
She sounds serious, but I can see she’s suppressing a smile.
It’s a game, of course, but she’s never spoken to me like this before.
She unclips my bra at the front, and it snaps open, exposing my breasts.
Then she drops the flogger as if she’s suddenly lost all interest in it and her hands roam over me, caressing my breasts, my waist, and my hips.
Her touch feels heavenly, and I close my eyes and moan, arching against her.
She wedges her hands into my panties and strokes my sore behind. “I’m going to take these off, okay?”
I nod, then remember she wants me to speak. “Yes,” I whisper.
Athena pulls them down, and I feel so vulnerable now that I can see myself and everyone around me. She was right; she went easy on me last time because this is intense. The amplified audience in the many mirrors make me feel like I’m in an arena.
She watches me intently. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Am I okay? Just like last time, I keep asking myself that question. All I know is that I want this, so I repeat my answer. “Yes.”
“Good.” Athena’s drink arrives, and she shoots Morgan a wink. “Thank you, honey.” She holds the glass to my lips, and I gratefully take a sip, letting the strong liquor calm my nerves a little. She does the same, then takes one of the ice cubes from the glass and holds it before me.
Aha. The ice makes sense now.
“Ever played a game hot and cold?” she asks.
I shake my head, then add, “No.”
Athena cups my cheek. “My God, you’re so innocent.” She runs her thumb over my lips, and I recognize the way she looks at me. She wants to kiss me. “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” she purrs, lowering the ice cube to my left nipple.
The cold is shocking against my heated skin.
I gasp, my body instinctively trying to pull away, but the restraints hold me in place.
The ice cube leaves a glistening trail as she circles my nipple, which hardens instantly under the freezing touch.
A trail of cold water drips down my body, making me shiver.
“Watch,” she commands, and my eyes snap to the mirrors where I can see my body’s reaction from every angle—the way my back arches, how my lips part in a silent plea, the goose bumps racing across my skin.
She continues to hold it there until my nipple feels numb, until it starts to hurt.
I can barely take it anymore. Should I ask her to stop?
Use the safe word? It’s just an ice cube, but it’s starting to feel like countless little needles penetrating my skin.
“The beauty of hot and cold,” she says before I have the chance to put a stop to it, “is the contrast. The shock of sensation.” She suddenly drops the ice cube and lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around her while she replaces it with her mouth, hot and eager against my cold, sensitive skin.
I’m stunned, hanging from my restraints. Athena is much stronger than she looks, and she’s right; the contrast is electrifying. My body convulses with pleasure, and I moan loudly, watching the maddeningly sexy display.
“You like this,” she murmurs against my skin. Her tongue feels amazing, and when she sucks my nipple into her mouth, I gasp in delight. She continues until I’m starting to relax and then she uses her teeth, biting playfully and shocking me back into submission.
“Oops.” She grins as she pulls away and eases me back down. “I couldn’t help myself. I’m a biter.” She licks her lips and fixes her gaze on my mouth, then takes a fresh ice cube from the glass. “When I see something I like, I want to eat it.”
Athena pushes the ice cube against my other breast and moves it lower, tracing a path down my stomach. My muscles contract involuntarily as the cold water trickles down my abdomen, pooling briefly at my navel before continuing its journey downward.
She shoots me a teasing look as she places it against my inner thigh, tracing it upward until it’s dangerously close to my sex before veering away.
“Please,” I whisper. I don’t even care if it’s going to be cold. I need something there. Anything to soothe the agonizing need for release.
The ice stops its journey. “Did I ask you to speak?” Athena’s voice is stern, but her eyes dance with excitement. She’s enjoying my desperation.
“I’m sorry.”
Athena rewards my correction by bringing the ice to my lips, letting me taste the cool wetness.
It melts against my mouth while her face comes closer and closer to mine.
She cups my cheek and moves the ice cube away, replacing it with her mouth.
She kisses me almost tenderly, her lips brushing mine briefly before she deepens the kiss.
This doesn’t feel like it’s part of the game.
It feels intimate, almost loving in the way she strokes my cheek, my hair.
I moan and arch into her, welcoming both the kiss and the ice cube that she’s now trailing down my body again. The dual sensations overwhelm me, and I whimper against her mouth.
Athena pulls away, blinking as if she’s snapping out of it, and I wish I could free my hands and pull her back.
I watch as she moves behind me, her reflection showing her heated gaze as she wraps her arm around me and brings the ice lower still, past my navel, down to my sex.
The cold against my sensitive flesh tears a cry from my throat—half pleasure, half shock.
My hips buck involuntarily, seeking more pressure.
“Still,” she commands, placing her free hand firmly on my hip to steady me. “Let it happen.”
The ice melts against my heat, water running down my inner thighs. She slides the ice between my folds, and I bite my lip, my thighs trembling, my chest heaving.
Athena watches me with fascination. “Good girl,” she praises, her voice husky. The ice is beginning to numb me now, and anticipating the sting that will follow, I bring my thighs together.
“Nuh-uh.” She spanks my behind with her hand. “Keep your legs apart.”
I flinch when she brings the ice cube to my clit and holds it there. I’m already regretting begging for it. I can’t do this. It’s too cold, then too numb, then too painful.
“Safe word?” she asks when I let out a whimper.
I hesitate, then shake my head.
“Good girl.” Athena drops the ice cube just as I’m about to change my mind and yell pause.
It clatters across the floor, and the ice makes way for her warm hand.
She cups my pussy, drags her fingers through my wetness, and slowly slips two fingers inside me.
Her thumb circles my clit softly, careful not to hurt me now that I’m oversensitive.
I throw my head back against her and moan, welcoming her. Athena’s surrendered herself; I can feel it. Her cold hand, the one she’s used for the ice cubes, reaches around me to massage my breasts while her mouth is on my neck, kissing me.
The warmth of her touch after the cold is exquisite. She works me slowly, her rhythm matching the increasingly ragged pattern of my breathing. I’m light-headed from all the sensations, rapidly climbing toward release, and I love the way she holds me.
“Come for me,” she whispers so only I can hear. “And watch.”
I force my eyes open, meeting the gazes of our audience and then my own.
It’s confronting. My body is trembling on the precipice of release, and I look emotional, both broken and whole.
From behind me, Athena is watching me too and I see her eyes are glistening while she kisses my hairline and breathes in against me.
The vision of her unleashes something primal within me, and my climax crashes through my body, violent and unstoppable.
I moan loudly, my voice echoing around the room, my body convulsing against the restraints.
Athena holds me firmly, her arms around me and her fingers continuing their relentless rhythm, drawing out my pleasure.
Through the haze of my release, I see the audience responding—some shifting restlessly, others watching with unabashed hunger.
In the infinite reflections, I witness my own surrender from every angle, unable to hide from the truth of my desire.
Athena’s hands gentle, holding me steady as my breathing slowly returns to normal. She places a soft kiss on my shoulder.
“Breathe,” she says, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I exhale shakily, my legs trembling with aftershocks.
She gestures for Morgan to help her with the cuffs and the relief is immediate, blood rushing back to my fingertips. I lean on Athena, and she holds me in a warm embrace.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers.
I rest my head against her shoulder and tangle my fingers in her hair, clinging on to her. Even under these strange circumstances, holding her feels so right that I don’t want to let go. I feel safe with her, cherished. “I’ve missed you too.”