Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5 (2 page)

While the rational part of her mind whispered that was exactly what she should do, her body burned and sizzled and ached to be under his control again.

She couldn’t imagine never again feeling the incredible way she had when he’d tied her up in his fantasy room and played with her body. She couldn’t deny the feeling of rightness that snapped into place when he’d bound her and controlled her and—

“Julianne?” Paolo caught her chin and turned her to face him again. “Are you thinking too much?”

“I have a lot to think about.”

“I know.” He cupped her face, ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “I am tempted to tell you what I have planned for our play date tonight, but I think it is better for you not to know.”

“How can that be better for me?”

“Anticipation can be sweet, Julianne,” he said in that lilting Italian accent.

“Not all that sweet,” she complained, squirming slightly in her seat.

“And yet you will wait.” There was that steel beneath his silky tones. “And you will stop squirming like a child.”

Suddenly she
felt
like a child, not a twenty-eight-year-old woman who ran her own business and had been in control of her life for the past ten years. She wanted to lean on this man, wanted to whine when he wouldn’t let her have her way. She hated feeling this way, so unsure, when not so long ago she thought she knew exactly what she wanted out of life.

“So am I allowed to touch you?”

“What?”

“This whole submitting thing. I’m confused. I feel like I’m not supposed to think for myself when I’m with you. I don’t know if I dare touch you without asking permission first. Or maybe I’m not supposed to take the initiative at all. Maybe I’m supposed to sit here like a blow up doll and wait for you to play with me.”

“Where do you get these ideas?”

“Now you sound angry. Are you mad at me?”

“God, no.” He raked his fingers through his thick hair. She wanted to be able to do that. “You come up with these ridiculous statements that I do not know how to respond to.”

“The other night you didn’t want me to move,” she reminded him.

He sighed, long and deep. “The other night you were at the Playhouse as a bondage toy. There were certain rules for that scene.”

“So what are the rules now?”

Another sigh, indulgent and slightly amused. “I will give you the rules for our play date once we are in the playroom. Otherwise, unless I forbid it, you are free to move or touch or speak.”

“Good.” But before she had the chance to take the initiative, the limo slowed and stopped in front of the renovated warehouse where Paolo’s Playhouse was located.

“We’re here.” Paolo released her hand. “Pull down your skirt.”

Julianne knew better than to point out that he was the one who had pushed her skirt up to her crotch. She tugged the fabric down, smoothing out the wrinkles. The door opened and Paolo stepped out, then turned and offered her his hand. There was probably an art to sliding from a car seat while wearing high heels and a short skirt with nothing on underneath. Julianne slid to the edge of the seat but couldn’t find a way to gracefully step out onto the sidewalk. Paolo pulled her out, then caught her as she stumbled.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her hands clutching his shirt. “I guess I need a little more practice with that dismount.”

His soft laughter was warm against her face. His lips brushed against her cheek and then he wrapped his arm around her waist. He turned to the driver. “Thank you, Jack.” He guided her into the building and to the elevator that led to the third floor. The door opened and Paolo swept them inside.

He led Julianne into the same playroom they’d used the last time she was here. This time there was no chair sitting in the middle of the room where she’d been bound previously. Only the extra long sofa along the back wall. The walls were still covered with hooks holding lengths of ropes and chains, as well as instruments of…what had he called it during their negotiations the other night?…impact play. Floggers and whips and canes.

Julianne shuddered.

Paolo closed the door behind them then turned to look at her. “After I have closed the door for each session, you are to get undressed and kneel in front of the door while I prepare for the play. There is a low table there to place your clothing.”

“This is it then?” she whispered.

“This is it.” He smiled indulgently and brushed his knuckles lightly along her cheek. “When you kneel, place your hands palms up on your thighs and lower your gaze. Practice slowing your breathing, calming yourself. This is your time to ready yourself for your submission. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Swallowed hard.

He didn’t move, but ran his gaze over her body, from head to toes and back up again. He lifted a brow. “Then get to it.”

“Oh. Okay.” She kicked off her shoes, then reached behind her back with shaky hands to lower the skirt’s zipper.

Paolo turned and walked away without a backward glance. She stepped out of the skirt and draped it carefully over the table, then slipped off her blouse and bra and placed them on top. Then she tucked the shoes on the floor beneath it. She dropped to her knees as gracefully as she could, which wasn’t saying much. Maybe she should practice that. The smooth floor was cool beneath her bare skin. She hazarded a quick glance at Paolo before she lowered her gaze. He stood before the wall of ropes and chains and implements of impact, probably deciding which to use.

On her.

Julianne lowered her gaze to a point on the floor just before her knees. Somehow knowing he would be binding her gave her a sense of calm and well-being she hadn’t expected. Her heartbeat began to slow. She remembered the erotic sensation of ropes around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the chair. Keeping her secure. Protected.
 

As long as she was bound, she didn’t care what he did to her. It didn’t matter. She was safe.

She knew it wasn’t logical. Being unable to move to defend herself if necessary shouldn’t make her feel that way. But the more she tried to make sense of it, the more rapid her heartbeat became. The faster her breathing was. She soon lost that nice calm she’d been enjoying.

“You are thinking too much again,” Paolo called out to her. “Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Count to five, in and out, if you need to. It will be okay.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. As she worked to slow down her breathing she reminded herself that what mattered was that she wanted to be here. With Paolo. She wanted ropes wrapped around her wrists. She wanted the security of the bondage. As long as that was part of her submission, she’d agree to anything he said. Anything he wanted to do.

The sound of metal clanking softly made her eyes fly open. Paolo walked toward her with lengths of chain in his hands. He looked down on her and spoke softly. “Straighten your shoulders. Do not hunch your back. Lower your gaze.”

She nodded and corrected her posture.

“Good. Much better.”

He set the chains on the floor in front of her and then turned and walked away from her again. With her eyes lowered, the chains were all she could see. The pile of links looked as if they might slither around her like a nest of cold silver snakes. A chill slinked down her spine.

The toes of his black shoes appeared in her vision. It killed her not to look up at him. She could hear more clanks of metal. Was he carrying more chain? What would the cold metal feel like on her skin? He dropped something onto the tall table on the other side of the door. More than one something from the clattering sounds. Then there was silence as he stood before her and she stared at the toes of his shoes.

“What is your safe word?” His question made her jump.

“Chardonnay,” she whispered. Nerves jumbled in her stomach. Was she going to need her safe word tonight?

“Good. You can stand now, Julianne.”

She looked up and saw him smiling down at her, his hand outstretched. She let him help her to her feet. She was really going to have to practice getting up and down more gracefully.

Once she was standing, her attention was immediately drawn to the items in Paolo’s hands. Metal cuffs, a couple inches wide. Her eyes grew large and her lips parted on a soft gasp. Her heart sped up again as she imagined how they would feel on her wrists.

“Julianne.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the stern tone got her attention.

“Sorry.” She lowered her eyes but that brought her gaze back to the coiling chain at her feet.

“When you stand before me, put your hands behind you, right palm over left, in the small of your back. Keep your shoulders back. No hunching in this position either. Feet a little more than shoulder width apart. I want you to be comfortable because you may need to hold this pose for long periods of time. I require access to every part of this body at all times. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Her sex clenched. His soft words, spoken with authority, spoken with affection, touched something deep inside her.

“Again, keep your gaze lowered unless I tell you differently. It is not up to you to worry about what is going to happen. That is my job. Yours is only to be ready. Understand?”

Her mind wasn’t altogether sure, but somewhere deep inside, it made all kinds of sense. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Look at me now.”

Her gaze leapt to his face, to those deep blue eyes that seemed to see into her soul. She soaked in his handsome image while she could, while she was still allowed.

“Hold out your hands.”

She reached out her hands to him, stared down at the shiny silver cuffs he held.

“There are many kinds of bondage,” he said. “Last week we used rope. It was your choice, remember?”

She nodded.

“Rope is soft. It gives with movement. It is a silent bondage.” He clasped a wide cuff around her wrist. “Metal is different. It has sound.” The metal was cold and hard and heavy. It clicked sharply as it closed.

“It has weight,” he went on, as if he knew what she was thinking. He reached over to the table and picked up a tiny padlock, hooked it and snapped it in place. “It locks in place until I release you.” He picked the second shackle off the floor and cuffed her other wrist, then locked it as well. They could almost be heavy-duty bracelets except for the padlocks. And the O ring on each cuff, of course. What would it feel like if they were chained together? Or chained to something else?
 

“How do they feel?” he asked.

“Heavier,” she said. She moved her arms, felt the cuffs slide over her wrists with the movement. The edges were slightly rounded so the metal didn’t rub against her skin. Still… “I think they might hurt if I struggled.”

“I am sure you are right. Do you plan on struggling?”

She caught his level gaze. “No.”

“Then you should be fine. I will remember not to use them when we role play.”

Role playing. A chill ran over her at the thought that they might actually do something during a play date where she might want to struggle.

Paolo picked up the wide collar. “Hold up your hair.”

The cuffs slid heavily as she raised her arms and lifted her hair off her neck. He circled her throat with the cold metal, snapped another lock in place at the back of her neck. The smooth metal rested against her collar bone, loose enough that she barely felt it when she swallowed, yet the weight was a constant reminder.

“You can drop your hair now.” Julianne let her hands fall to her sides. Did he want her to put them behind her back?

“Hands out in front again,” he said before she had a chance to wonder any longer. The chain clattered when Paolo picked it up off the floor. Paolo threaded the chain through the O ring on the collar, crossed the links between her breasts and then wound both ends of the chain around her waist a couple times. Finally, he used hooks on each end to attach to the shackles to the chain.

Her wrists were now held against her body at her waist. The cool metal quickly warmed to body temperature as she stood there.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” he asked. Paolo walked around her, checking the chains, making sure it wasn’t pinching her skin anywhere.

“No. It doesn’t hurt.”

“How does it feel?” he asked as he came back around in front of her. “How do you feel?”

“Okay. It feels okay. I feel okay.”

Paolo tipped her chin up with his finger, locked his gaze with hers. “Talk to me, Julianne.” She didn’t like making him frown. “I cannot know if this is right for you if you do not let me know.”

“I don’t know how I feel right now,” she said. “It’s almost too much to process. Too much to think about. I don’t want to think right now.” He didn’t let her look away. She took a deep breath. “This is all new. It’s not bad. I don’t want to use my safe word or anything. I guess I feel more like a slave in the chains. The weight, the sounds, speak to something inside me and I don’t know yet whether I like it or not.”

“Fair enough,” he said softly. He released his hold on her chin, but waited as if he knew she’d want to continue. That even though she’d said she didn’t want to think about it, now that she’d started, the thoughts and feelings came pouring out.