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I’d have bet a million dollars they hadn’t told her what was at her feet. They wanted me to show her the surprise. My mouth was dry and my hands were sweating as the last guard unlocked them.
Be good, man. Be good.
“She’s waiting for you,” he said, chuckling. “Give us a fucking good show, man. I wanked ten times a night all week after the last show.”
Driving my fist through his chest would have to wait, but I made a rare exception to my rule of disengagement and mouthed you bastard in the direction of the dark window.
Gregor started up. “Go to her and take off the bag, please, Pieter. We want her to see what is coming.”
Her feet shifted on the floor, toes clenching. As I approached, her head swung my way and I could hear rasping breaths. Getting enough oxygen in those bags was often dicey.
Looking wasn’t a crime if she didn’t know, surely?
The peekaboo secrets of her sex where the beginning of her slit showed and the cute round targets of her nipples were blatant advertisements of her femaleness. I lingered, willing my cock to behave.
She was the definition of alluring.
“It’s me, Jazmine. Ignore him. Just listen to me. What you’ll see isn’t good, but it’s not that bad either. Think of it as creative wrapping. ” I whispered the last. “I will be as gentle as I can.”
Their no talking rules may or may not have been in effect. I didn’t care.
Then I undid the neck cord and took off the bag. Her gasp and facial flinch made me want to hug her. Fuck no. I needed to make this look worse than it was, not better.
“Is that barbed wire?” Her question was so quiet I had to strain to hear it.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She sucked in her bottom lip and looked to me.
“Keep watching me. Don’t look down.”
The speaker clicked on. “You are going to wrap the little miss here in the wire. It should be most interesting when you make her orgasm. Hmm? All those nasty fucking sharp wires. Digging in? Hmm?”
Where was a rocket-propelled grenade when you needed one?
“Answer me, Pieter.”
I nodded slowly, while I looked at her small feet and the remnants of red toenail polish. That reminder of normality disturbed me. “Yes. It will be interesting.”
Then I found a blindfold and fastened it over her eyes.
“Why’d you do that,” she asked.
“I think it’ll be better for you if you can’t see the wire.”
Her breasts rose and fell. The overhead lighting painted her nipples glossy and luscious and shone on the upper slopes of her breasts and her long thighs. I resisted touching. Pretend she’s made of thorns.
“Answer me this,” she added quietly, her voice wobbling. “Are you afraid I’ll see you enjoying this? Have you got a hard-on, Pieter?”
You clever girl.
I said nothing, afraid the thickness in my throat would mess up my words. She’d hear my excitement. I couldn’t afford that. I’d lose her.
“Shhh.” I put my palm over her mouth. If she continued, I’d gag her.
I hadn’t expected my reaction to be this extreme. It didn’t matter. I’d be careful, like I’d told her. This was happening whether I enjoyed it or not.
How could I not? She was female and I was a sadist given carte blanche with a roll of barbed wire and her naked body.
