I lazed in our shared bed on my left side. Toes wrinkled up around some out of place blankets while my hands had folded greedily around my phone. I was stuck, tethered to the length of the charging cable when he came up. His thundering footwork marching up the stairs like a herd of elephants was noticed but as I imagined the game was afoot, I'd little to worry about... just yet.
A sweet smile curled over shoulder alongside a nod and wriggle of eyebrows as suggestively I could despite my clear disobedience for what had been expected that day. He had paused outside the door. That much I knew as I could hear his breath heavy and weighted through the lingering scent of a fresh coat of bedroom paint.
We had lived together for three months and both had really shitty weeks at work. News had leaked at mine that one of the company founders was doing not so nice things with some of the dancers and he had recently lost an old friend from college.
All those old memories sprouting up at the oddest of times. Here we were, 43 and 47 respectively and still in our honeymoon phase (or so I had assumed) and the personal stress level hit a high neither of us could have expected. When the handle was turned and I caught only the briefest of glances offered I immediately seized. My fingers shook as I gripped the phone and then near threw it out of my hands leaving it sent clattered to the floor.
That was a look I well knew and one I would be foolish to discount. "Sorry," I claimed clumsily but had twisted myself around and hopped off the bed with a bounce and a smile still. Perhaps we might turn it around still. I had been oh so focused on being pleasing that I did not notice his hand shot out towards me.
Thumb and forefinger gripped at my jaw and pressed until they were forced into my cheeks. I had felt the pain but did not react much more than a whimper when I realized I was forced into a fish-lips pout that he knew I hated. A very charming smile had curled on his mouth and that look in his eyes told me that a world of hurt was forthcoming and in short order.
"My sweet little whore" he hissed at me when our eyes locked and his jaw had flexed into a line I hadn't quite seen before. He was still in his work clothes. A suit that cost more then I was paid in a decade likely. Chiseled in all the right places and slightly flabby in others. A god amongst men. I was a slip of a thing with little to pinch at the hips but ample breasts that seemed to constantly crave his touch. My lips twitched as I blinked through his gaze once or twice.
I'd felt a bead of saliva at the corner of my mouth. I knew he would say something and with care I crafted the tip of my tongue in a stroke and swallowed it back. There I stood, half crumpled and half standing, leaving him in position to exploit without even realizing it. My failure to tease became apparent when he'd gripped my wrist and pushed into its middle, crushing something that pained me. A finely polished shoe followed up with a shove to the arch of either foot, leaving me reliant to his hands grip at my cheeks to keep me upright.
Just when I thought I might snag a breath my hand was hitting me. Sometimes a loose punch, others a sloppy slap. I whimpered and squeaked, aiming to make sense of what I had fallen into far too quickly and easily. I knew too, deep down in there somewhere that any form of obvious resistance or an aim to toy and tease would be unwelcome.
The depths of my soul flickered with excitement we'd not shared for a good month now. It was perhaps both timely and overdue. He held me, near dangled a moment longer then I could bear and then wrapped a strong arm beneath my shoulders and tugged me close into him. It was easy.
When our flesh met my nipples pert and puckered pressed into the warmth of his chest everything melted. He continued using my hand to slap and smack, punch and toy with me even when I whined out a daring "Tristan!" with a pretty little pout that might sometimes allow me to be afforded just a bit of leeway. Not tonight. I knew exactly the situation I had put myself in and his steely gaze boring into my wide eyes.
My mouth hurt, random spots on my tits and hips were surely bruised already but still, all I could think of was that devoted heart of mine which was entwined with his in a manner I hadn't known was possible. He kissed the pucker of my pout roughly, biting on my lower lip until I could taste a sprig of blood along the side of my tongue.
"Ingrid" he answered with a growl, pulling back from my mouth and leaving us attached only by a desperate strand of saliva. He set me on the bed and moved my knees with strong hands. I blinked and looked up to him unsteady and uncertain when they had been pushed snugly together. "Ingrid you have been a bad little thing" he spoke with narrowed gaze and firm jaw. I tucked my chin to my chest and felt immediate shame.
This was not going to be one of those laughing matter, playful experiences. I could feel it deep in my bones already. "You were supposed to be dressed and ready for our encounter and now I am home and I see that you want to be a little brat!?" I shuddered and folded my shoulders inward, shrinking as much as I could while my thighs were thankfully clutched snugly together. He slapped me then, one cheek and the other. There was no pause, no reprieve.
Only his own hands now, much harder than the ones he'd forced me to use earlier had begun to rough me up as he continued to speak. Every time I peeked up his eyes were locked on my face. "We can work on that my little brat!" he shouted at me. I squeaked and closed my eyes.
A long length of breath was drawn and savored. When I next tried to seek out his presence he was no longer standing there. I felt my cheeks stinging and tears begin to pierce at the corner of my eyes both. It was blurry but he had gone to the cupboard. There was rarely anything good for me locked behind its glass display door.
"Fuck" I muttered to myself. I had completely forgotten that he had planned to take me to the club. We had not been there together after the night we first met and I vaguely recalled something about show and share being on the menu. I lifted a hand up, bent at the wrist and wiped my eyes, sniffling. My gaze became clear and I could see that not only had he the weighted cuffs, he had a chain that was thicker than his thumb.
When he returned to my side he pet my head as if I were a simple little thing. His lips set a carefully pressed kiss to my left temple and in the instant I closed my eyes and sighed, mewling, I felt the clamp of steel wrapped around my neck. That thick chain trailed lazily between the valley of my breaths. It was cold and and caused my flesh to tighten in some anticipatory anxiety. He walked in circles around me and I knew better than to speak further.
The hint of pain I'd felt from earlier punching started to dissipate but the building of worry, wonder, I wasn't sure had overtaken me so much that I barely noticed the expected cuffs being locked around wrists and ankles.
More chains were added and affixed to bolts on the floor surrounding the bed. I had calmed my breath by then, kind of. There was a knot in my belly and my panties were as expected, already soaking wet. "Don't think for a second I didn't hear you curse my slut" he said, calmly now. In the moment that his anger subsided I had pressed my shaking lips together and whimpered.
"Open wide" he said and forcefully kicked my thighs apart. When they had been so wide the length of tendons stretched and burned, he kicked more. "Stay or I will chain you wide open for the rest of the week," he cautioned me. "Yes Master" I spoke two words I know he would always allow me and did my best to wait patiently while he bound one wrist exceptionally tight and reached for a box under the bed.
"Naughty little Ingrid" he said almost teasingly, knowing that protocol would not afford me to speak that name that rolled so easily off my tongue until granted permission. I etched it in silence in my heart and grew resolve to aim to take whatever he was going to do to me with some semblance of grace. Thick fingers wedged my lips apart and held onto the tip of my tongue. From his pocket he pulled a tongue clamp, a rubber band and a chained weight. I felt it's pinch and the little tug but had not realized the intent of the brutality he'd in mind.
It was stuck out, weighted down and as sloppy as I tried not to be, I wasn't quite able to swallow much so drool began to flow freely over my lower lip and onto my chin. He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. I stared at the mass which was already hard. Its thick head slapped casually on my cheeks, my nose, over my eyes.
He laughed and traced the tip over the back of my tongue so that I could taste the salt of his pre-cum while he continued to chastise me. "Ingrid" he said my name again sweetly this time. "I am sure you have heard of something called the kama sutra no?" A yank of that chain binding my wrist near pulled me sideways onto the bed. He had pinched my chin and tugged at my tongue however, keeping me upright and attentive. I nodded a bit and kind of mumbled a faint 'mmhmm' in response. He continued, "Tonight I am going to teach you the reverse kama sutra."