Pleasures a Crime Worth Committing

Chapter Thirty: "Look at Me"

Tracing your body with his eyes, Spencer paid special attention to your nipples, bright red from the clamps. Just as he began to move his feet and start walking, another bright flash of "lightning" erupted, lighting up almost the whole room. There was almost no noise despite how close it was to your room.

In response to this, without even thinking, you jerked back into Spencer's chest in fear. You loved rain, but hated lightning. Spencer knew this and clearly took notice to your response, holding you tighter.

"Don't worry Y/N, I got you. I'm going to place you down on the bed on your back. Ok?" Spencer's soft, gentle voice sounded like music to your ears. Him giving you reassurance and communicating with you made it a lot less uncomfortable.

"Ok sir." You stated best you could, the gag still making it difficult to let out words. Guess that was the point.

Moving his feet once again, he gradually began making his way to the bed, you still wrapped in his arms. His cold, yet soft hands gripping the surface of your skin gave you goosebumps all over. You tried to relax your body as well as possible, just to make the transition to the bed easier on Spencer's end. You rested your head on Spencer's chest, just by his heart, the beating got faster as he got closer to the right side of the bed. He had something planned, something you two must have not done yet.

Getting closer, you wracked your brain trying to think of what he had in mind. You were bound by cuffs, wrist to ankle, unable to move.

Just as a thought entered your brain, spencer bent his knees slightly, your back grazing the satin sheets. They were surprisingly warm, the soft touch they had enveloped your skin.

Spencer had placed you on the low center of the bed, knees bent and legs open. You were in missionary, restrained from moving, restrained from speaking, you're all his.

Approaching the foot of the bed, facing you, Spencer began to remove his shirt, revealing some form of holster on his belt. Not a gun holster, a holster for some kind of short, blunt object.

Before he did anything else, Spencer returned to your side, kneeling down to face you. His hand grew close to your face, pulling the gag down and out of your mouth. He was going to let you speak? Now this was confusing.

" Scene paused Y/N, I have to ask you something before we continue. I know last time this didn't end too well, but I wanted to introduce this idea to you once again because of the fact you said yes to it at our negotiation. Now, I removed your gag because the reason this was a previous issue was from lack of communication between us. I want to see if you're open to trying knife play again Y/N." Spencer explained, his palms enveloped around your right hand.

"Spencer, I don't know." You blatantly let out, looking into his eyes as you spoke clearly and directly at him.

"That's totally ok. If you are open tonight, I have brought a knife specifically for beginners. It is relatively small and won't deeply cut the surface of your skin. Yes, you will feel the pressure applied from the knife, but it won't do more than give your body a cat scratch. I want your consent before I go ahead. If you want to say no, that's also completely ok. I just want to communicate with you beforehand Y/N." Spencer let out, eyeing your face for some kind of response. He slowly moved his right hand to the holster, pulling out the knife. It was indeed small, shaped like a karambit knife. The blade was clearly dull, and it was indeed a play knife, for you have had one similar used on you once.

"I'm very happy you asked me first, Spencer. Are you absolutely sure this knife will give me no more than a cat scratch?" You questioned, Spencer holding the karambit to where it was visible.

"Might not even do that. And I will not use it on your wrists or thighs. Ok?" Spencer reassured once again, knowing your self harm scars were on your forearms and inner thighs.