Page 12 of Nice

My heart thumps hard in my chest. Swallowing, I watch him as he circles the table, implement swishing in the air. I twitch with every whoosh. Will he hurt me? I worry my bottom lip with my teeth. But I haven't done anything wrong. He speaks of punishment, but why? Why me? I quiver with fear and anticipation as he steps even closer. Closing his eyes, he tips his nose up and inhales deeply before looking back at me and smiling.

"You do like this, don't you, naughty girl."

I shake my head rapidly.

Tsking, he rests the square piece against my cheek before tapping it a few times. "Liars get their own special punishments. I was hoping to spare you that one, but you leave me no choice."

"I'm not lying!" I shriek. How could anyone be turned on by this?”

"You really want to add to it?" His thick eyebrow raises as he pins me with a disapproving glare.

"Prove it." I stick out my lower lip into a pout. If I'm going to get punished, he better come at me with more than just pretty words.

"Fine. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

I shake my head and keep my mouth firmly closed. Leaning over, his strong fingers grip my jaw in his implacable grip.

"I will not ask you again. Obey me or face the consequences."

My stomach flips about at his firm words, and I squirm about on the table. He removes his fingers and I open my mouth. He's probably going to stick his fingers in me again. I close my eyes and start breathing and preemptively willing myself not to gag. What I'm not expecting is the explosion of pain on my pussy. In a rapid, agonizing staccato, he smacks his tool against me, the wet, lewd sounds, filling the air. I whimper but keep my mouth open and tongue out. The pain is bad enough without making it worse. He brings it up and drags it across my tongue, smearing some sort of essence across me.

"That would be the proof of your arousal, my dear. Now then."

He reaches over and fiddles with something at the side of the table to lift it up vertical. Blood drains from my head and leaves me a touch dizzy, but that's nothing compared to the ache developing in my shoulders as gravity works on me. He backs away and waves his hand about. Several more candles light up, putting the room in a bit better view. Moisture drains from my mouth as I take in where he has me. I was right about the whips and chains, but somehow seeing it clearer doesn't help matters any.

My stomach churns with a mixture of both fear and arousal. At this point, it's like opposite heads of the same coin. He wasn't wrong about me being turned on. I just didn't think he'd call my bluff. Unfortunately, I'm starting to discover that nothing seems to escape him. I'm not well-versed at being sneaky, and I can't believe I even tried.

He steps into the center of the room and turns around, allowing me to see him in his entirety for the first time. Dear God, but he's gorgeous. I take a quick glance, skimming over his large, prominent bit, standing at attention. Nothing good would come of staring at that. The fact that he's so aroused by me, or at least I hope by me, turns my insides into liquid heat. I trail my gaze up his abs and settle on his face.

He's so freaking familiar. I strain against the haze in my memories. It's almost there. He smirks as I stare him down, and it finally clicks.

"Oh god. You're the candy cane blow job guy."

His smirk widens before he bows down with a flourish. "That I am. Though I would have held out for more." He turns back to the wall and starts rummaging through some things. Looking over his shoulder, he tosses me a sympathetic look. "At least ten or something. If you're going to sell yourself, might as well not do it for cheap."

Shame burns in my gut like acid. Yeah. Not one of my proudest moments. Yet another reason to not take another drink. I obviously can't control myself.

"Is that why you're punishing me? Do you punish all women that come on to you?"

For a moment, the room is silent. I can't even hear his breathing. He reaches up and grabs some chain and turns to face me.

"If it were just that, then there'd be no punishment. In fact, I'd probably take you somewhere and fuck you into oblivion. However." He brings up a band of metal to my neck. "You're not here because of a questionable proposition." With one hand, he pulls back my hair, with the other, he brings the metal and encircles it around my throat. The coolness contrasts his hot fingers, sending chills down my spine.

"Some part of you must know that."

Opening his hand, he lets the chain fall. Each link brushes my skin on its journey. God. Even chains are hot now? I look down at my crotch and scowl. It got me into this mess, and now everything he does just seems to amp me up even further. He drops down to his knees and unbuckles my ankles. Now's my chance to break free! Perhaps if I can incapacitate him, whoever was in the room will hear me screaming and rescue me. He certainly sounded like a voice of reason. I wait patiently until both ankles are unbound.

He stands up and grazes my cheek with his fingers. Drawing in a large breath, I pull up on my arms, ignoring the searing pain ripping through my shoulders. I have to live. If I rip my arms out of my sockets, so be it. With a loud roar, I plant my feet against his chest and push with all my might.

Shock is clearly etched on his face as he stumbles back into the rack of stuff behind him. He stays down, and I let myself relax for just a moment. My shoulders scream at me, but he's down! And I'm still alive. A loud groan snaps me back to the kidnapper. Fuck.

His lips twist up into a feral grin as he stalks his way closer. Blind panic zips through my body, filling me with adrenaline. Pulling back up, I twist about and flail my legs towards him, anything to keep him from getting any closer. However, he just bats them away until he's able to grab firmly onto my ankles.

With a quick flick of his arms, he's spread my legs out and wedged himself in between my hips. His body is holding me up, effectively pinning me against the table. Though my arms cry out in gratitude, my body keeps twisting and turning. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses the length of chain over my shoulder. The metal clangs against the back of the table like a death knell.

"That's right, love," he growls against my ear. "Impale yourself on me."

His deft fingers grip my hips firmly, painfully even, as he lifts me up higher against the table. I try to twist out of his grasp, but every movement makes him clamp down even harder. Once I'm high enough, he holds me in place with one arm and slides his other hand down my stomach and over my mound, pausing for a brief second at my clit.