☼    Sasha    ☼

I could feel his erection as I wriggled closer and he continued to kiss me with a groan vibrating through his chest. Sparks lit behind my eyelids like a shower of July Fourth fireworks as heat swept through my blood.

I would never get enough of this. This man.

His past meant little to me, to us. And he may act immune to feelings, and try to keep his heart under wraps, but this, sweet and passionate well-hidden side tempted me to daydream of all the delicious possibilities of what life would be like with him.

Not excluding Ellis either. I wasn't going to let him slip through my fingers so easily, he just didn't know it yet.

And I was nothing if not persistent when I wanted something. 

Something I'd inherited from my mother my father had once told me.

The elevator door opened and he eased back and then led us into his club, past the room I'd been in last night and down a longer corridor and into a different open area .  It looked like a dungeon playroom.  Looking around, the atmosphere here was a mix of anticipation, desire, and a touch of the forbidden. Low lighting cast shadows across the room, creating an effect that was still a little scary for a newbie like me.

Undoubtedly, the silly grin plastered on my face was likely the cause of a few odd stares, although it could be my clothes— more suited for a yoga studio than the provocative 'spank my ass' scene.

Ignoring them I continued my visual tour. It's spacious, with various pieces of equipment strategically arranged to cater to a wide range of desires and preferences. In one corner, a St. Andrew's Cross, and in the other a large X-shaped structure made of metal, where individuals could be bound and restrained for pleasure or punishment. Nearby, a spanking bench beckoned with its padded surface and sturdy restraints, inviting those with a taste for impact play to indulge.

Against one wall, there was something I didn't care for a suspension rig, complete with chains and pulleys, offering a thrilling opportunity for suspension bondage enthusiasts to explore new heights of sensation and submission.

It reminded me too much of the one that the psychopath, Addi, had strapped me into. I shivered and moved on.

Nearby, a collection of floggers, whips, and paddles hung from hooks, ready to deliver a range of sensations from a sensual caress to stinging blows. And as well as Dom's and their subs there were discreet staff members to keep things clean and sanitised.

Zack let go of my hand and I wandered on a few steps.

"Strip," Zack commanded, all gentleness gone. "I want you in the wait position. There." He flicked his chin up and I followed his gaze to the one thing I didn't want to go near.

I was more afraid of that thing than stripping naked in front of all these curious eyes. However, I wouldn't give Zack any excuse to put a stop to whatever he had planned.

With an exhale, I removed my vest and leggings and placed them neatly to the side of me. I wasn't shy but it was still a big deal being naked in front of others. But... that was part of kink. Reaching around back, I unclipped my bra and slipped it down my arms. Lastly, because I was still barefoot, off came my underwear and then I kneeled.

Looking up expecting to see Zack—he wasn't there. Looking around, he'd gone but I stayed exactly where he'd told me.  Lowering my head I didn't look up when two pairs of feet stopped in front of me, one pair were bare.

"Stand," Zack commanded and I rose to my feet and lifting my head my eyes moved to the person beside him. 

He was a sub, for sure. Naked. Head lowered, waiting.

Was he going to share me?

No. He would have discussed that first and if he had brought it up anyway, I would have told him I was only willing to be shared with Ellis. End of discussion!

My heart fluttered inside my chest, not quite sure what was happening, but I trusted Zack, he would never do anything to hurt me.

Are you Sure?  A small whisper in the back of my head said.

Zack instructed the sub. "Strap Ms Darling onto the rack."

I hesitated and he noticed. "Is there a problem, Sasha?"

I closed my eyes, gathering my courage.

"Look, at me little girl."

He taunted me to open my eyes and I did.

A strange quality sank into his gaze, something so weirdly unlike him—frantic and nervous—it took me aback. He framed my face with his large hands. His voice strained and he lowered his lashes as if he couldn't say his words while looking me in the eye. "Take a good, long think. Trust your instincts, Sasha. There is no shame in walking away."

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching and unclenching. Addi, that bastard had left his mark on me, not physically, worse, it was a psychological scar. But I could face this fear. It was just a piece of equipment. "No, Sir. I don't have a problem."

Zack's eyes slowly climbed back up and for a second I thought I saw disappointment?  

A little confused, he dropped his hands and I started stepping backwards until I felt the cool hard surface against my skin. I lifted my arms and the sub fixed my wrists into place before lowering and doing the same to my ankles.

Once again, I was vulnerable, and although I felt safe. Still, that dreadful night continued to haunt me, its sharp edges piercing through my thoughts like thorns, refusing to be ignored.

Don't think, don't think, don't think—just relax.

You're here with Zack. You want this.

I needed this—I wanted the pain to remove the hurt of Ellis leaving.

Zack checked over my restraints.  "Any pain or discomfort?" he asked.

I hummed a no, but I did want to know what he had planned and asked in a flirty tone, "What do you intend to do to me?" 

His movements were swift, I'd not blinked when he gripped my chin between his finger and thumb. His voice was low and seductive and filled with challenge. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

"No, but—" I started but his fingers dug in harder, the shine in his dark eyes was almost supernatural and the glint in the depths was the edge of a sharpened knife fixed on me.

"Do I need to gag you, Sasha?"

Gag me? 

He knew that was a hard limit after Addi.

My eyes widened and he loosened his grip.  Smiling he let his finger trail along my jaw, then down my throat. I told myself to play along. This was a scene after all and with that came a little play-acting. "No, Sir."

He took a long moment to reply, then muttered something and blew out a pent-up breath and instructed the sub. "Blindfold her."

What!? Seriously... say no.

I should have.

I wished I had.

But I didn't.

The sub vanished from view and then reappeared. "Please. Lean forward." He spoke softly, almost too softly but I didn't move.

"Tell me to stop," Zack said, and my eyes snapped to his. "And I can unfasten your restraints and we can end this now."

Why did he keep offering me an out? Was this a test? "No. I trust you."

His jaw clenched and his eyes lowered for a second and then they lifted and he narrowed them dangerously. "You shouldn't."

I leaned toward the sub and allowed him to fix the blindfold in place.

Then I hung there waiting... and waiting.

and goddamn waiting!

Was this part of the scene? 

Needing a distraction I attuned my senses and my ears picked up other members in the room. A crack of a whip. A jangle of chains. A cry. A moan.

My nerves began to twitch as time stretched out and so did the prospect of what he was going to do to me. So much so that my skin felt hot and itchy like I was covered in fire ants and my body shivered from the potent cocktail of anticipation mixed with undisguised need.

And then I heard his footfalls. Heavy, purposeful and my whole body jerked at the unexpected feel of something cold brushing my thigh, so gentle I took a breath.

Was that a cane?  It had to be.

Ooh, this was my first time with the cane and a thrill of excitement had me biting down on my bottom lip hoping I didn't embarrass myself with other subs in the room.

It came to rest, between my legs, but Zack didn't say a word. But as he moved closer, his warm breath against my throat, the scrape of his whiskers sent ripples of tingles down my neck.

But something was different. His smell. A strong citrus-musky smell.

Had he changed?

But the growing heat between my legs gave testament to one simple fact. I wanted everything he could give me. The release he delivered through pain, the abyss beyond the fear and I listened to my ragged breaths.

He pulled away and the first slice was sweet pain had me sucking in a sharp hiss and my heart began to slam against my chest at a reckless pace.

I screwed my eyes shut under the blindfold and took another deep breath.

This is it. This is it.

This is it.

The first five hits were much softer than I anticipated, warm-ups, but then I heard the whooshing sound and the sixth made my skin burn where it hit across my breasts, the heat spreading far past the impact point and then he grabbed my left breast and squeezed, this felt more like Zack now and then he slapped them hard, and loud. Hard enough to make me whimper.

"Please, Sir." I jerked when he stroked the cane over my thighs and then he was close again, kissing my throat and I was now lost to it, swimming in the darkness, and then it was swiftly followed by three more sharp hits.

Breasts. Stomach. Thighs. All perfect hits.

Thrusting my chest out my nipples tingled and burning at the same time.

I wanted more.

My breathing grew heavier, my senses tripped over themselves when I felt a hand.

A gloved hand—a fingertip between my breasts, "Zack?"

 Why had he put on leather gloves... but then I recalled him wearing one when he spanked Ellis on the plane.

The tap, tap, tap of the cane against my thighs brought me back to the scene as if he knew I'd wandered off. The cane came to rest, pressing against my skin, and he moved to my side, his lips at my ear.

"I'd almost forgotten how beautiful you American whores are."

I froze. A shiver of terror ricocheted through me and took ownership of my every nerve.

That wasn't Zack's voice.

Oh my god. The voice. The accent.

No. It couldn't be him.

My mind was suddenly clouded, I couldn't think and my heart pounded and not in a good way and I looked around even though I couldn't see anything. "Zack?!"

"Guess again whore!" the man chuckled.

My breath caught in my throat, trying to make sense of what was happening here as the panic rose like a tidal wave threatening to swallow me up.

My body broke out in a sweat.

Was it him?

No. No. No.

That was crazy.

My mind was playing tricks on me.

I tugged at my wrists, twisting them. "Zack, I don't like this. You're scaring me."

Use your safe-word, idiot.

I opened my mouth to speak but the sting from a harsh slap across my face made me freeze. "Whores need to be silent and accept their punishment with grace," he spat and I felt his spittle splash across my cheek. Then thick course material was shoved into my mouth and I gagged, nostrils flaring as I breathed heavily through my nose.

This couldn't be happening.

"I am your master now."

Master!?

It was him—the bastard, Addi.

Move, move, move!  My mind screamed at me. My trapped limbs flailed pointlessly, trying to get away.

Shit. I can't move... I can't move!

A heaviness pulled at me as I began to hyperventilate and shudder unable to gulp down mouthfuls of oxygen. My lungs were on fire, desperate for air.

"You thought you could escape me, you stupid American girl."

Fingers slid between my spread legs and pushed apart my lips, wet and swollen, a result of the anticipation, nothing more.

"You are so wet for me whore."

Fear remained a cold and callous presence. As I shook my head not able to process any of this rationally. My muffled cry got nowhere as the feeling of two leather-gloved fingers pushed their way into me, the texture of the material oddly pleasurable but I fought against it.

I tried to close my legs and my mind was so consumed and overwhelmed that I forgot, I couldn't. Forgetting about the unforgiving restraints holding my ankles apart.

"You like this..." he mocked me. "And fighting me only makes me harder."

My body began to writhe under his touch. I was both disgusted and aroused as I couldn't ignore the slow slide of his fingers and the pressure and friction against the nerves. The tortuous withdrawal of leather not wet enough tugging softly on my tender flesh, causing a different but equally stimulating sensation.

My head was all over the place, breathing out of control, sweating, and how an orgasm was about to rip me apart right now—when fear gripped the rest of my body and seriously messed with my head.

Tears wet the silk fabric and I kept mumbling my safe-word, hoping someone might understand, see my distress... but it was no use as my body arched and the climax exploded outward sapping me of any and all energy as my head flopped forward and my body took its reward with my mind screaming bloody murder.

Gravity tugged at me as I sagged in the restraints, but even that didn't slow his attack on my now over-sensitised body, forcing it into submission and to go on a ride, not of my choosing. Some incoherent sounds I couldn't comprehend reached my ears but then I realised they were coming from me... and then nothing.

My chest heaved and my body twitched and I felt disoriented.

Had I blacked out?

Hands slid around my waist as my wrists and ankles were freed and before I fell, I was scooped into the thick arms of a solid man. My sluggish brain tried to make sense of it.

Where was I being taken?

"Shuuuush," he cooed, his tone much gentler than earlier.

Still unable to see, He sat us down and cradled me tight against him. My hand shot up and ripped away the blindfold. And then I scrambled out of his arms and off his lap to land on the carpeted floor with a thud.

I had to blink twice and then I realised I didn't know the eyes staring down at me.

The relief that it wasn't Addi was immense, but still, a huge bulk of a man with the same olive skin, and black hair was staring at me as his hand tenderly brushed the strands of hair away from where it had fallen across my eyes.

Jerking my head away I scrambled backwards giving my bare ass a carpet burn as I thrust my hand out and my mouth ran off. "Stay away from me. Who are you? Where's Zack? What did you do to me?"

He straightened up. "Zack gave you to me for the night. And you're in the aftercare room."

His accent was the same as Addi's... but what the fuck!? Zack had given me to this man—a stranger!?

"I'm not some... some... some... thing to pass around. Why did you gag me? I couldn't safe-word you, deranged idiot. " I spat out the words. "Is that how you treat your subs?"

He held up a finger warning me. "I don't take kindly to talk like that from my sub." His dark eyebrow winged up. "Any sub."

"I'm not your sub!" I practically screamed. "Did you do anything to me?"

"Do anything?"

Apart from fingering me. I shivered. "Sex?"

"Not yet," his top lip curved up into a smile "I prefer my subs corpus mentis."

What in God's name was so funny?

The tension was back with a vengeance. "Where are my clothes.? I tossed out my safe-word. "Angelic!" In a desperate attempt to reclaim control of the situation.

His expression shifted, not angry, more a little smug, and I swallowed hard. "That's my safe word." My voice wobbled. "You have to stop, right?" I pleaded, seeking reassurance in his eyes.

He nodded slowly and rose to stand. "I can see there has been some miscommunication. I will send someone in with your clothes."

As he retreated, it took me a couple of attempts to get myself up off the floor. And now left alone with the echoes of my racing thoughts. Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over me, and I doubled over, retching violently as the full weight of what had just transpired crashed down on me.

Wiping a hand across my mouth questions tumbled over themselves inside my head.

Why had Zack done that? Why had he made me believe that Addi was here, subjecting me to those horrors once again? He'd abandoned me, leaving me alone and terrified.

A familiar face entered the room, carrying my clothes and a bottle of water. I accepted them gratefully, my hands trembling as I tried to steady myself. "Where's Zack?" 

"I'm sorry, I don't know," the male sub replied softly, his eyes filled with sympathy when he spotted my vomit on the floor.

Dressed in seconds, I practically bolted out of the room, my heart still racing with a mix of fear and fury. I stumbled twice on my way upstairs, the adrenaline making my movements clumsy. Finally reaching his door, I pushed it open with force and stormed inside. "Zack!" I called out, my voice ringing through the empty room.

No answer.

I found him in the kitchen, his back facing me. "What the hell was that?" I demanded, my voice sharper than any blade.

As I approached, I noticed a torn-up sheet, next to an empty glass on the table—my contract. He still didn't say anything, and I felt a surge of frustration bubbling up with my hands clenching into tight balls.

Finally, he turned to face me. "Your dad called," adding, matter of factly. "I've told him you'll be on a plane within three hours. Mr. Davies will collect you in forty-five minutes. Shower. Pack. Leave. We're done here."

I blinked. And again, with the weight of his indifference bearing down on me. "That's all you've got to say to me?" I pressed, my voice cracking with hurt and disbelief. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew that there would be no explanation, no apology— just the cold, hard truth that our time together had come to an abrupt and painful end.

That did it. His aloof attitude snapped something inside me. Without thinking, I slapped him across the face with all the force I could muster.

The sting of my palm meeting his cheek reverberated through me, a surge of anger and hurt fuelling my actions.

"You're a bastard Zachary Coles."

"And you would be wise to never forget it."

How could he be so cruel? How could he do that, give me to someone else?

Of course, he's cruel you moron. Did you not listen to him earlier?

For a moment, there was silence between us, the only sound was the dull thud of my heart pounding in my ears. Zack's expression shifted from surprise to something resembling regret, but it was too little, too late.

I held his gaze, my hand still tingling from the force of the slap, daring him to say something, anything to justify his actions. But he remained silent.

Out of adrenalin and with a trembling sigh, I turned away, refusing to let him see the tears swallowing my sight. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he'd hurt me.

I'd not judged him for his past.

I'd accepted him.

And what had he given me in return?

...Pain, of the heart-shattering kind.

~ ~ ~

A/N: Chrissy hangs her head... sorry y'alls, I doubt I will be able to update next week, so don't be surprised if that little notification doesn't light up! Crazy work week ahead.