Ecstasy in the White Room Read Online Free PDF

from the ceiling. Two men in shirtsleeves are taking turns to
slash at her bum with thin yellow canes. Simon has the sound turned off, but
it’s clear she’s gasping and whimpering even though her eyes look bright more
with excitement than with tears.
    “We should have stayed, and I could have tried that.” My desire
hasn’t had a chance to ebb, but it surges again at the thought of being strung
up like that, in front of an audience. Showing my nipples, my crotch and my
crimson behind to the audience again.
    “Maybe another time.” Simon rises from the chair, all languid
grace. “And who told you to speak?” He narrows his blue gaze at me, his eyes
dancing. I don’t smile back, but I grin inside. I knew he’d say that. “Now come
here.”
    I glide over to him and we stand face-to-face. His eyes rove
over me, noting and marking each feature of my face, and of my body. It’s as if
he’s cataloguing his possession. “Remove all your clothes...except the ribbon,
leave that.” He reaches out, gives it a little tug, then releases me.
    As elegantly as I can, I disrobe, first kicking away my shoes,
then reaching round to undo the long zip down the back of my dress. When I step
out of it, Simon automatically extends a hand to support my elbow. Bra and
G-string next, then stockings, and again, he allows me to lean on him. Not sure
what to do with my finery, I let it fall to the carpet, and taking me by the
arm, he leads me away from it toward the bed, where I see he’s draped a towel
from the cupboard over the counterpane and laid out a few items from our box of
goodies. My gaze skitters over toys, vials of lubricant and our leather slapper.
His favorite device.
    Illuminated by the concealed lighting around the bed head, I
also notice that the restraints have been pulled out of their discreet hiding
places and are laid out, in readiness.
    “Lie down, my love, make yourself comfortable.”
    I can’t contain a snort of amusement. Comfortable? Yeah,
right.
    He doesn’t admonish me, but his old-fashioned look speaks
volumes. Now I’m in for it.
    I climb onto the bed and lie down, roughly in the middle,
pulling a pillow beneath my head. Kicking off his shoes, but still fully
clothed, Simon climbs on after me, and before I can move any more, he fastens
first one of my arms, then the other, to the elegant white painted rail at the
head of the bed. My nipples look very prominent as the stretch of my arms makes
my breasts lift. Simon gives one a hard, quick pinch, but I manage not to utter
a sound.
    Next, he pulls my hips into position, making me gasp. The
toweling is soft, but it still chafes his handiwork, the sore red patches on my
buttocks. Handling me firmly, he places me just so, but he doesn’t secure my
ankles yet. He just pushes my thighs wide, then puts another towel, folded,
beneath my bum, lifting me. More terry cloth to rub against my spanked flesh. My
crotch is lifted, displayed. Like a clockwork doll whose mechanism springs to
life of its own accord, I start to rock my hips, even though it costs my
punished buttocks some discomfort.
    “Wicked...wicked, wicked, wicked,” he admonishes, punctuating
each repetition with a slap across my thigh.
    I wiggle harder, anything to offset the new, sharp burn.
    “Behave yourself,” he continues, turning away to study his
hoard of goodies. His blue gaze flicks from toy to toy and he selects a smooth,
white egg-shaped confection with a long, attached cord. He holds it up between
finger and thumb, then shows it to me, grinning a devilish little smirk as he
does so. “Big enough for you?”
    “Plenty...bring it on.”
    I know I shouldn’t really be so feisty, but I can’t help
myself. I’m not a good, well-schooled submissive like the women downstairs. I am
wicked, and I’m willful and I’m just, well, I’m just me . But I doubt Simon would want things any other way.
    “Gladly.” He laughs softly, then placing the egg on my belly,
he fishes around for vial of