Broken Submission

Restrained

Her knees hit the floor before her brain registered the command. She embraced the pain of bone on wood, using it to steady her mind. The embarrassment of her inelegant departure weeks ago and her failure at bar tending had assaulted her as Derek carried her into the main area. She tried to take deep breaths to push it away. This was may be her last night in a club—certainly in this club—and the last night for a while that she could get what she needed. She wasn't about to squander it.

"What would you like to do tonight, little one?" His deep voice rolled over her, pulling the last of the tension from her shoulders.

She subtly adjusted her pose to display herself properly, hoping to please him. "Whatever it is you desire, sir."

There was a rustle of fabric as he settled on the bench beside which she knelt. "What I desire is for you to tell me what you want. What you crave, what image has been taunting you, wetting your pussy at work or before you go to sleep. I want your desire and I want your honesty."

Her stomach and her pussy clenched, nausea and arousal battling, her body the battleground. His words... her body was melting where she knelt. But his request... the idea of asking for something she wanted... It was almost as inconceivable as it was unnerving. No small amount of fear filled her at the idea. She didn't think he would punish her if she chose wrong—chose something he would not have—but even so, she would be careful. What scenes had she seen him involved with?

He didn't scene that often publicly, an interesting trait for the owner of a bdsm club. But he seemed a fairly private person. She had seen him participate in public punishment when a member screwed up. He did demonstrations too, paddling and shibari mostly. He didn't seem to play much on the harder end of things. The most intense play she'd seen him partake in was caning, edging, and sensory deprivation. The Club had restrictions on bodily fluid play, including cutting, much to her relief. That was a bit much.

She realized that she still hadn't answered him. "Oh! Uh..." She stared at the floor trying to figure out the safest answer. She didn't do public sex, so that took many options off the table. She wasn't much for bondage play as a whole—it was nice, but not fulfilling. But it was one of the things she'd seen him do the most so...

"Maybe—maybe you could—" she hyperventilated for a second before finishing in a quick burst of words, "tie me up?" Please, god, let that be the right answer.

Derek watched her inner struggle with concerned interest. Why was this so difficult for her? Surely she had been asked to verbalize her desires before. When she settled on bondage, he was a little surprised. He'd rarely ever seen her engage in anything other than impact play. Derek didn't get quite the thrill out of rope play as many other shibari masters. He had learned out of a more academic interest and had ended up teaching demonstrations after his on-site shibari master moved away. Still, he'd given her the choice.

He nodded and ran a finger over her shoulder, unable to keep from touching her. "Alright, then come with me."

She stood and followed him to the space where he kept his private toys. He withdrew a loop of his favorite navy blue rope. It was thickly and loosely woven and would leave behind intricate, unique marks once removed.

"Turn around," he murmured.

She took a deep breath as she turned slowly. His fingers glanced over her arms, and he pulled them behind her back. The rope made a loop around her chest, then another. He twined it in a pattern, the length crossing between and around her breasts. The slight constriction enhanced her feeling of helplessness. She felt a momentary panic before it melted into liquid heat. He moved to her arms, wrapping the rope in such a way that her forearms were pressed together behind her back.