Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Nineteen

I'm tied to his bed.

Each ankle is bound with black cotton braided rope, intricately wrapped and tied to discreet hooks on the footboard.

He took great care to tie each ankle to its hook, making sure the rope was tight but not too tight. His knots are delicate yet strong. I couldn't move if I wanted to.

But I don't want to.

Bra removed, I'm clothed in only my underwear, my arms are still unbound, and I'm spread out on Kylo's bed. Waiting.

I watch as he lights a candle, the flame flickers in his menacing eyes. The light casts a warm glow around the room, the shadows make everything feel more sinister. Sensual.

He then walks to his shelf, ponders over the books, and then chooses one. What? A... book? I'm tied to his bed and he wants to do some reading? I know better than to question his actions aloud.

Walking back to the bed, chosen book in hand, he stops at his nightstand and pulls something out of the drawer.

My eyes expand when I recognize the object.

A riding crop.

I don't know what game he's setting up with these two seemingly unrelated objects, but I'm beyond eager to play. The anticipation is mounting and my nerves are on edge. I need release of some kind, any kind.

Instead, he hands me the book.

Confusion is surely written all over my face. I'm in just a thong, tied to his bed, he has a crop in his hands, and he wants me... to read?

I look up at his dark and handsome face as I take the book in my hands, noting that it's a collection of E.E. Cummings poems.

"Page 31. Read to me. I know how you enjoy poetry. So read, without stopping. If you stop you'll be punished," his eyes look to the instrument in his hand. "Do you understand?" He shifts his attention back to me, intensely staring at my face.

"Yes, Sir, I understand," and I tremble at his look of approval as I follow one of his rules so diligently.

"Begin," he commands.

With my legs still bound and spread wide, I turn to the appropriate page. It's a work titled "as we lie side by side".

I read to him.

"as we lie side by side
my little breasts become two sharp delightful strutting towers and
i shove hotly the lovingness of my belly against you"

I pause, realizing that this is isn't just poetry, it's erotic poetry. His actions are instantaneous. With a soft crack, the riding crop makes contact with my left breast.

He doesn't quite hit me full force, and the blow lands partly on fleshy skin and partly on my nipple. Delightful strutting towers indeed, both nipples are now rock hard and I have goosebumps littered across my torso.

I let out a soft gasp, and it takes my brain a moment to register the sensation. Fuck, that felt good. But I remember my task, and continue reading.

"your arms are young;
your arms will convince me, in the complete silence speaking
upon my body
their ultimate slender language."

I'm trying to concentrate on the words on the page, but out of my peripheral I notice him moving to the foot of the bed. I feel his weight lowering the mattress.

But I can't see with the book in the way, so I chance a quick glance.

This time the crop meets my stomach. He uses more force this time, and I let out a moan as I arch my back. My skin is stinging, and I notice the red mark quickly forming. He stops moving, and I take that as my cue to continue reading.