Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Bree
" Y ou sure you know what you're asking for?"
I can hear Sam grinning through his mask, and although he's checking on me, making sure I'm firm in my decision, I can sense that he's excited, too. He wants me to want this.
"I have no idea," I admit. "But I want to try it."
And that's the truth. My palms are starting to prickle with sweat, and my heart is beating hard in my chest. I have no idea what to expect. All I know is I want to prove that I'm not some boring girl who only likes to dance. I can hold his attention just as well as anyone else can.
And I want to. I do want his attention on me, on me and no one else tonight.
Sam takes my hand and leads me around the dance floor, the two of us following in the footsteps of Kitty and Mouse. As we pass the dancing crowd, weaving between people coming and going, I think about how the night could have just ended here, so close to the front door. Now we're making our way deeper into the club, and who knows what's waiting for me there.
Sam is sure of himself as he takes me out of the main room and down a hallway. The music soon begins to fade, and we find ourselves in a slightly smaller room. Doors in the far walls lead to places beyond, which will have to remain a mystery for now. We're headed to the illuminated stage in the center of the room, which is surrounded by chairs, sofas, and huge floor pillows of all kinds. People in various states of dress lounge around, facing the stage like they're waiting for a show.
And we're heading not for a place to sit, but for the stage itself.
I hesitate, my footsteps slowing—until I notice Kitty and Mouse reclined in front of the stage, as well. Except they aren't looking forward. They're looking at us.
My grip tightens in Sam's hand, and I keep walking.
I'm not going to chicken out in front of them.
But what's going to happen to me on that stage?
I square my shoulders and try to walk confidently after Sam as he walks up onto the stage. The sound of my heels clicking on the wood seems to echo in the room, even though music is playing low from somewhere. We can hear a faint thumping beat from the main room, but mostly, it's just the sounds of the people shuffling, waiting for the show to begin.
When we get to the center, there's just a single remote sitting there. Sam picks it up, and it looks pretty simple. With a touch of a button, a rustling from above is triggered, and red gauzy sheets descend. I look all around, and relief washes over me. We may be in the middle of all these watchers, but it looks like only our silhouettes will be visible. I can see shadowy figures through the red, but that's it.
"Are you ready for this?" Sam whispers beside me, just as the rattling of a chain sounds from above.
I look up to see a chain descending from the ceiling, with two strips of black silk attached to the end, which is getting nearer. A chill races down my spine, and Sam reaches up to calmly grab the black silk.
"You haven't answered me, little Bunny."
I look at Sam's wolf mask, and I notice my breathing is coming quicker within my own mask, making it feel stuffy.
Am I ready for this?
I offer him my hands, knowing the chain is meant for me. He gently encircles my wrist with his fingers, stroking his thumb over my skin.
"I'm ready," I whisper back, finally.
Sam raises my arms into the air and makes quick work of securing my wrists firmly to the chain above. When the knots are tied, I strain against the silk, testing its strength, and Sam starts to squat slowly. I feel his hands on my arms, slipping lower all the way down the length of my body, down my sides, past my hips, down to my thighs, and all the way down my legs. He helps me out of my heels, but as he sets them aside, out of our way, my feet struggle to find sure footing on the floor—I can't rest my feet flat.
My little cry of surprise and the sound of the rattling chain echo through the room, too loudly. There must be microphones amplifying the sound on the stage. The crowd around us murmurs, and I swear I hear a giggle I've heard before. I keep tottering in place, trying to balance, and look around for Sam, expecting him to use the remote to lower me.
But he's just watching me, the mask hiding his expression.
"I-I can't—" I start, but Sam cuts me off.
"I know." He waits a beat longer before settling me with his firm grip. "Bear with it as long as you can."
I nod, but my body is already starting to shake at having to perch on my feet like this. Can Kitty and Mouse see me trembling? Did they tremble like this when he tied them up? Or did they do something different?
As I grapple with thoughts of them all together, Sam walks to the edge of the stage, sinks down to retrieve something, and comes back to me. Under the dimming lights, I can still catch a glint of steel as he comes nearer. I suck in an unexpected breath when I catch the sharp point and twist in place. I'm thrown off balance yet again, and Sam tut-tuts softly.
"If you don't keep still, this will be more difficult for you."
Sam steadies me with one hand, showing me the sharp shears in his other hand. My eyes don't leave the instrument for a second, and he seems to know this, as he moves it back and forth in front of my face. His hand smooths down my front carefully, deliberately not disturbing the balance I've managed to find again. Then his fingertips start walking to the hem of my dress, taking a hold there as he lowers the shears.
"Don't make a sound," he warns, anticipating my reaction.
I bite down on my lip, stifling the protest that almost left my mouth. He's about to cut my dress, but I don't want Kitty and Mouse to hear me complain. I swallow hard, acting like this is the most natural thing in the world, and nod meekly.
"Trust me," he says, so low that only I can hear it.
I nod again, acutely aware of my trembling form.
The shears bite into the bottom of my dress crisply, parting the material with ease. I flinch as it glides up, my stomach sucking away from the cold metal. With each snip, more of me is exposed. I know no one can see my skin, but standing here, growing gradually more exposed with so many people around, it's like I can feel their eyes picking me apart.
I hear myself struggle not to whimper as the dress falls away and hangs limply at my sides before Sam frees it from my body with a few more snips, leaving me in only the long sleeves. The useless material pools at my feet with a whisper, and the crowd stirs as if they can feel the coolness suddenly assaulting my body.
Can they also feel the growing apprehension? The vulnerability creeping across my stomach? I toss my head back and accidentally let another muffled whimper out. My arms are beginning to ache from holding this position, so are the balls of my feet.
But we're just getting started.
Sam's warm hand braces me again before he comes close again with the shears, hooking the cold metal beneath my black bra. I flinch hard at its touch and stumble in place, eliciting another restless shuffling from the crowd. He snips away the bra, then snips through my tights and the band of my panties before setting the shears on the ground and kicking them away to the far end of the stage.
With a speed and force that make me cry out, he grips my tights and rips them down my thighs, the splitting sound so sharp that it leaves my ears ringing. I try desperately not to spin out, and Sam isn't making things easier for me like he did before. He reaches out and grabs my panties, trapped between my thick thighs, and rips them free.
"Look at you now," Sam says, speaking normally as he circles behind me and pulls me to his body. "Do you like how it feels, your tits and pussy out for all to see? Want me to raise these curtains so everyone can get a good look?"
The crowd responds for me, not with words but with low hisses and excited shuffling, like they aren't people but animals.
I shake my head with a whimper, my wrists twisting in my restraints. Even if I say no, he still could. I'm completely at his mercy here, bare with nowhere to go.
There's nothing for me to do, nothing I can do right now.
And there's nothing I want to do right now but hang on Sam's every word. His tone is hard, which sends a shiver through me. I can tell that exposing me like this is doing something to him.
Something I like.
"No? But look at your nipples. They're hard as rocks, my little Bunny." He squeezes a nipple for emphasis and gives it a tug, making me gasp. "Are you getting excited at shamelessly baring yourself like this? You asked for it, remember?"
I hang my head forward, my arms trembling with the pain burning down to my shoulders. I want to bear this. I want to see where it goes.
I nod, and without warning, he strikes out at my bare ass, making me cry out against my will. Fuck! My head snaps up as I search the crowd.
They heard me. Are they laughing at me?
"I asked you a question, little Bunny."
"Yes!" I reply quickly, my muffled voice surprising me. It has a desperation that I know everyone can pick up on.
"Yes what?"
My mind races to play back what he asked me, but it comes up blank. I must take too long because his hand strikes out again, slapping the other cheek. This time, I bite back the cry, only the chains speaking for me.
"You asked for it, didn't you?" Sam repeats.
"Y-yes, I asked for it," I whine.
"Why?"
Silence.
I swallow hard, knowing the spank will come at any second. Fuck. The only thing in my head is the truth, but I can't say that. I bite my lip and whimper, wishing I could send him a silent plea.
Sam's hand comes down sharply on me, stinging more than the first time. But I won't say it. I keep trying to think of something else to say, but the pain is making it difficult to think, the sting on my cheeks, the burning in my arms, my feet.
"Tell me," Sam urges dangerously, whispering close to my ear.
A shiver races down my neck, and I throw my head back again, trying to get some relief in my aching shoulders.
I still don't say it.
This time when Sam strikes, he doesn't stop. I gasp out at the repeated spanks, even going so far as to try to evade him, but he holds my hip firmly in place, keeping me right where he wants me.
Then I'm crying out without restraint, the pain intensifying. My mind goes blank, only the words he wants to hear sharp and clear, right on the tip of my tongue.
Slap. Slap. Slap .
"I wanted your attention!!" I scream out, unable to take it anymore.
I'm panting fast as the spanks finally stop, trembling harder than ever. I don't know how much more I can take, don't know what to do, and suddenly, I feel Sam gripping my thighs and picking me up off the floor. Without thinking, I wrap my legs tightly around his waist, relieved beyond measure for the break. Even the pain in my arms eases up, but not completely.
I lean forward against his chest, trying to catch my breath in the mask, and he peels it away. I suck in the fresh cool air, then press my head against his neck. I feel like I'll start crying, but I don't know why.
His hands rub my back soothingly, and then the tears come for real. It's like I'm releasing something I didn't know I was holding on to.
"Good little Bunny," he whispers. "You can have my attention, as much as you want."
His words make the tears come faster, and I'm sobbing without care, the cat and the rat far from my thoughts. I'm thinking only of Sam, of his arms around me and his sweet nothings in my ear. He's telling me I did a good job, over and over, holding me so close. I nuzzle closer to his neck, wanting to be as close as he'll let me, and I find myself apologizing, just repeating the word, tightening my legs around him.
"You didn't do anything wrong, my little Bunny." Sam plants a kiss to my neck, and the sweetness of it is suddenly electrifying.
Between my legs, I can feel that he's hard, and even though my tears haven't dried, a white hot flame erupts in my core.
I need to feel him inside me, right now.
Right here.
"Sam," I whisper urgently, grinding my core against him, my teeth nipping at his throat.
"What are you doing, my little one?" he growls, pressing into me.
"Fill me, Sam," I continue, my words only for him. "Fill me, please. Please let me feel you inside me."
The man doesn't hesitate. I hear him unzip, his knuckles brushing against my slick core, and I can barely give him the room to free himself.
"Yes," I urge, seeking him out, helping him align his dick with my aching hole. "Fuck me right here, make me scream."
Fuck, I've never felt so needy like this before.
Sam plunges into me just as I ask, making me take his full length in one go. I give a shuddering cry and massage him deep inside me, loving how he gets so deep, how he stretches me open. His hands find my hips, steadying me, then he starts fucking me hard, filling the room with the slick sounds of my pussy.
"Ohh god," I moan out, my feet digging into him, urging him deeper. "Harder, fuck me harder! Take me!"
Sam grunts and slaps against me, fucking harder and faster, his fingertips digging into my ass. I feel my body growing tense, the pleasure mounting quickly. There's something about being taken so raw like this. My mind wraps only around the feel of his hard dick pumping into me like a steel pipe.
Sam fucking loves this. So I keep it up.
"Fuck me!" I scream out. "Fill me, fill me up deep inside!"
"You want me to come in you?" he whispers low, impatient for a reply.
I feel him pick up speed and shudder around his length. He wants me to beg for his seed.
I lick my lips.
"I want to feel you fill me up," I say, just as urgent. "I want you to fill me up, give it all to me! Come in me, please."
Sam gasps, and he's gripping me so hard that it hurts. But I love it. And I know he's right on the verge, right about to spill over, spill it all into me.
"Yes, oh fuck!" I scream, clenching around his dick as I come hard, and he's right there with me, grunting and gasping as he empties himself into me.
I take it all, just like I wanted to, my pussy pulsing as the orgasm rips through me. Hurriedly, Sam unties my wrists with one hand, and the moment I'm free, I collapse into his arms, clinging like my life depends on it. I'm so heavy in his arms, and with him still holding me, buried inside deep, I feel like I never want to let go.