Page 8 of Sweet Torture (Torture Games #1)

SIX

NAZ

I can barely contain my excitement. I am trembling and weave my fingers together to stop my hands from betraying me. I am not in the habit of going to the guy’s home. It is much safer for me to take him to the playhouse, as I call it.

It isn’t very big – I would barely call it a house – more of a one-bedroom studio.

But it serves my purpose and keeps unwanted individuals from finding my true sanctuary.

I have been very selective in who I invite into my home, and so far, only Rose has made the cut.

It might seem extreme to some, but I had no other choice.

I subtly glance over at the enticing figure of the man sitting next to me. I had my doubts that I would ever hear from him again, but I know that a lot of our future dealings will depend on the experience I give him tonight. I have something in mind, but that might already be pushing it for him.

We arrive at an impressive skyscraper, and I get out and simply stare up to see if it reaches the stars.

“This way.” His hand on my back leads me inside into the foyer of fortune.

I follow him to the elevator, perusing the expensive Italian marble floor in silence. We ride to the top in silence. He lives in the penthouse.

Of course he does; looking down on the world.

He strides to the kitchen, food in hand, and I use the time to explore my surroundings.

From the second we entered the door, I was accosted by the feeling of death that emanates from the space.

It is devoid of any emotion or sentimental attachment.

There isn’t a picture in sight. Every wall is a dull greyish color, and the furniture ranges from dark to darker.

Devoid of any human attributes, the place looks less like a home and more like a staged safehouse for a serial killer.

“Do you like it?” There is a subtle note of seeking validation in his tone.

I have two choices. Lie and continue the night. Or tell the truth and maybe get thrown out on my ass. I like my chances. Besides my ass is good enough to survive.

“I think you need more color in your life. You might be a little happier then. And not so suspicious,” I answer.

He blinks and blinks again. Then, a slow smile stretches over his handsome face, “You may have a point. I will look into that as soon as possible.”

I don’t know what the sly smirk on his lips means, but I chose to continue with the true purpose of the night and enjoy that I have not been kicked out yet.

Relieved, I hold out my hand, “Cough it up, mister businessman. It’s time.”

Reluctantly, he takes the papers out of his breast pocket where he put them in the car and hands them over. Then he removes his jacket and drapes it over the back of one of the boring black dining room chairs.

I scour the document, looking for something that might change the course of the night, and when I find his needs mostly match mine, I am taken aback.

“Are you sure you went through the list thoroughly?”

His face contracts into a grimace, and I can’t help but laugh out loud.

“Okay, we can always revisit the list if you want to make changes later. The most important thing right now is that you give your consent for the scene I would like to play out. It will contain light bondage, do you consent?” I ask while placing the contract on the dining table.

I see the trepidation on his face and distract him with my body, walking up to him and pulling him close to whisper while staring into his eyes, “I will never hurt you or break your trust. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you. ”

I see the transformation happen before my eyes. He changes back into the domineering personality I expect. He takes hold of my shoulders and pushes me away before he says, “Get rid of the clothes. I need a show.”

When I press my hands into his chest, my demeanor changes. The change is immediate, and I know it messes with most men’s minds.

“Show me the way to your room, take off your shoes, and kneel by the side of the bed.” He is baffled, but my face becomes hard, and my words irrefutable. I grab his jaw with two fingers and hiss, “Now.”

He takes a second to recover and then turns and walks down a long hallway to the room at the end.

I wait by the door, giving him some time to adjust to the situation.

When I enter, I see the same colorless existence continued in the bedroom décor.

At least the bed is huge. He really needs to fire his decorator.

Kneeling by the bed, I see he has unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and discarded the fancy tie.

“There are some rules you need to adhere to escape punishment. Firstly, you will only address me as Mistress. Secondly, you will obey my commands. Do you understand?”

I see his coy smile and wish to wipe it away, but he will learn. He is still inside his own head, but not for long.

“Yes, Mistress. ”

“We also need to discuss a safe word. What would you prefer?”

His grin means nothing but trouble, “How about rebel?”

He is challenging me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Good, now rise and strip. Slowly.”

He takes his time with every button, and when he slides the shirt down his arms, I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from gasping.

His smooth skin is stretched over bulging muscles and pulled taut to form a delicious Adonis belt that leads to an unknown sin.

I haven’t had the opportunity to study him up close, and I am salivating at the notion of what will be revealed.

He sees my reaction and smirks arrogantly while undoing his belt buckle.

Meticulously, he pushes his pants and underwear down before straightening up and rewarding me with the sight of his virile need as his hard cock is already twitching with expectation.

He is subtly demanding control, but I steal it back. He has removed every piece of clothing, and I also point to his watch.

Then, I motion for him to pick up his clothes and place them on a comfortable-looking grey chair in the corner of the room.

After he walks back to the original spot, he stands, waiting for my next move .

When his body is displayed in glorious splendor, I circle my prey while my fingertips lightly brush his skin. My fingers trail along the strong back muscle and I smile at the slight twitch of his ass when I my hands round the buttocks.

I brought my bag along but abandoned it at the door while I indulged in the sight. Now, I walk back and take out the silk cord I brought along for this very occasion. I walk back slowly, hitting the rope against my hand to build suspense.

His eyes follow every movement and sway of my hips. I know there is nothing that escapes his gaze.

Perfect.

“Quite impressive. I love to feel you so responsive to my touch. I am going to tie your hands now. Turn around and bring them to the back.”

His hands extend to the back, but I see the slight trembling in his fingers.

“I am tying a simple handcuff knot. You cannot use your hands, but it won’t dig into your skin or hurt you.” My words whisper across his skin, and I see goosebumps appear.

I hear the deep inhales he takes, and I work slowly to give him time to adjust. This can be scary when one is doing it for the first time.

When I am done, my hands follow the line of his shoulder to the front as my hands glide down his torso. I am met with an eager and insanely hard cock.

“You are being so good, little one. Would you like a reward?” I coo.

He nods, and I start to frown.

“Yes, Mistress,” his answer is accompanied by a hiss as I immediately grab his cock and squeeze.

“Who made you this hard?”

He refuses to answer, and I squeeze harder.

My little one seems to be a bit of a brat.

He struggles as I see his tip turn a light purple color from the pressure. When I ease off a bit, he exhales in relief.

“I asked you a question, little one. Who made you this hard?”

His eyes shine with arrogance, and I know, I just know he is going to be cocky.

“Is that what you call little? I would call it gifted.”

I let go of his cock and wave my finger in front of his face while I tsk-tsk.

“Such a naughty little brat. Now, you will have to be punished. Get on your knees on the edge of the bed, with your cock hanging off the side.”

He obeys and gets on the bed, struggling at first with his bound arms. Finally, in position, his mouth only causes more trouble .

“I am hoping for a blowjob, but a hand job would be fine, Missy.”

He really is incorrigible.

I grab him hard, and I hear him wince, but I am past the point of no return.

“Missy, you say? Well, far be it beneath me to give in to your heart’s desire. One blowjob coming right up for this little brat of mine.”

I let go and step back while I slowly unbutton my shirt.

The sound of my skirt zipper being pulled down intertwines with his shallow breathing.

I kick the clothes aside and stand there in my racy black underwear.

Painstakingly slow, I ease my breasts from their confinement before I bounce them in my hands and tweak my nipples for extra effect.

He licks his dry lips, and if I am not mistaken, he drools from one corner of his mouth.

I push two fingers on each side of my lace panties and snap the elastic before I leave it in place.

The disappointment is etched on his face, but not for long, as I make a big show of going onto my knees. I can hear his satisfied grumble.

“You look gorgeous, Missy. Now put my big cock into your mouth.”

Thinking he was in control, he thrust forward closer to my mouth. I grab him with both hands and pretend to play along.

“Oh, it is so big. Are we sure it will fit in my mouth?” I add with a high-pitched tone .

“We will find out soon enough,” he states confidently.

Arrogant prick .

If he could only see the warning signs.

I start kissing the tip, and he hisses at the sensitivity.

“Your skin is so soft, should I try a little more?” I ask, mimicking a doe-eyed deer.

He nods fervently, and I indulge him by nibbling all around and swirling my tongue over the tiny red marks.

“Don’t stop. You are doing so great,” he encourages.

I flatten my tongue and lick from base to tip before I say, “You know my only desire is to please you.”

I take more of him into my mouth and see him struggle to balance on the side of the bed. Perfect, exactly where I want him. He widens his stance, and I lightly pull him towards me before I fall forward and plunge his dick into my mouth until it touches the back of my throat.

His cry is feral.

“Fuck, woman. So good…so close.”

I can feel his body preparing for release and deepthroat him three more times before I rise and wrap my fingers punishingly around his shaft.

“What did you call me, little brat?”

The incredulous look on his face twitches every time I squeeze harder and release.

“What? Why did you stop?” he whines.

“What did you call me, brat?” I repeat .

It dawns slowly, but eventually, enough blood returns to his brain.

“Missy.”

“And is that what I ordered you to call me?” My tone is fierce and unyielding.

He huffs but answers, nonetheless, “No.”

I squeeze harder, and he winces. “Who are you talking to?”

“No, Mistress.”

I immediately release his cock and start cooing while I comfort him, hoping to put him back at ease.

His thighs are trembling from the strain of not tumbling over the side, which is giving me more than a bit of satisfaction.

I slowly go down on my knees again and slowly suck him deeper and deeper.

My cheeks are hollowed out from the strain, and his growls echo into the rest of the empty space.

I do this repeatedly, and every time he nears an orgasm, I retreat and ask the same question.

“What is my name?”

Every time he answers, I hear a little more frustration and exhaustion in his voice. The last time, I changed the question.

“Will you ever make this mistake again, my little brat?”

His forehead is beaded with sweat, and the muscles in his arms are straining against the ropes. He only sighs with a shuddering breath and answers, “No, Mistress.”

“Do you need to use your safe word or take a break? ”

He shakes his head vehemently, and I know he is driven by the need to come.

My spittle has been dripping on the floor, and I wipe it away with my hand before I kneel again.

“You are so beautiful, and your cock is delicious. Would you like us to try one last time?”

He nods profusely, and I smile coyly.

I stick my tongue out and swirl it around his dark red tip.

His poor cock has taken a beating, and it shows.

He is much too sensitive for me to be aggressive, so I make soothing motions and let him glide slowly between my lips.

I worship him while his eyes are glued to my lips, and I can’t miss the relieved shrug of his shoulders when his orgasm builds.

He hovers over the edge, and I put one hand on his chest to push him upright without breaking my rhythm.

There is no need to go hard; he will be ready within minutes.

He cries out when he shoots his cum down my throat and sags over my head, completely exhausted.

“Hey there. You need to keep your balance over there. We both know I won’t be able to stop you from taking a tumble face first,” I jest.

I help him lie down on his side and then untie his hands. The rope left superficial reddish marks around his wrists, but they will fade quickly. I took great care not to make the knots too tight.

“Can you walk to the shower?”

He shakes his head, and I leave him be. The first time can be quite taxing on your body and emotions.

Instead, I go to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth and clean him up.

It takes a few trips, but by the time I am done, I am satisfied that he won’t feel grimy from all the exertion sweat.

I open the covers and help him in before I walk to the other side to join him.

I lie beside him on the bed and pull his head closer to lie on my naked breast. I wrap my thigh around his waist to keep him close.

“How do you feel?”

Minutes pass, and at first, I think he has fallen asleep. His voice is, however, filled with awe when he answers.

“Fine. I feel fine. Isn’t that something?”

I start stroking my fingers through his hair.

“Yes, little one. It certainly is.”

Shortly after, the sounds of his snoring fill the room.