“Hush now,” he breathes against my skin. He holds up his hands in front of me, his

arms touching mine. In his right hand is a flogger. I remember the name from my first

introduction to this room.

“Touch it,” he whispers, and he sounds like the devil himself. My body flames in

response. Tentatively, I reach out and brush the long strands. It has many long fronds, all

soft suede with small beads at the end.

“I will use this. It will not hurt, but it will bring your blood to the surface of your skin

and make you very sensitive.”

Oh, he says it won’t hurt.

“What are the safe words, Anastasia?”

“Um… yellow and red, Sir,” I whisper.

“Good girl. Remember, most of your fear is in your mind.”

He drops the flogger on the bed, and his hands move to my waist.

“You won’t be needing these,” he murmurs and hooks his fingers into my panties and

sweeps them down my legs. I step unsteadily out of them, supporting myself on the ornate

post of the bed.

“Stand still,” he orders, and he kisses my behind and then gently nips me twice, making

me tense. “Now lie down. Face up,” he adds as he smacks me hard on the behind, making

me jump.

Hastily, I crawl onto the bed’s hard, unyielding mattress and lie down, looking up at

him. The satin of the sheet beneath me is soft and cool against my skin. His gaze is impas-

sive, except for his eyes which glow with a barely leashed excitement.

“Hands above your head,” he orders, and I do as I’m bid.

Jeez,my body hungers for him. I want him already.

He turns, and out of the corner of my eye, I watch him saunter back over to the chest of

drawers, returning with the iPod and what looks like an eye mask, similar to the one I used

on my flight to Atlanta. The thought makes me want to smile, but I can’t quite make my

lips cooperate. I am too consumed with anticipation. I just know my face is completely

immobile, my eyes huge, as I gaze at him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he shows me the iPod. It has a strange antenna

device as well headphones. How odd. I frown as I try to figure this out.

“This transmits what’s playing on the iPod to the system in the room.”, Christian an-

swers my unspoken query as he taps the small antenna. “I can hear what you’re hearing,

and I have a remote control unit for it.” He smirks his private-joke smile and holds up a

small, flat device that looks like a very hip calculator. He leans across me, inserting the ear

buds gently into my ears, and puts the iPod down somewhere on the bed above my head.

“Lift your head,” he commands, and I do so immediately.

Slowly, he slides the mask on, pulling the elastic over the back of my head, and I’m

blind. The elastic on the mask holds the ear buds in place. I can still hear him, though the

sound is muffled as he rises from the bed. I’m deafened by my own breathing – it’s shal-

low and erratic, reflecting my excitement. Christian takes my left arm, stretches it gently to

the left-hand corner, and attaches the leather cuff around my wrist. His long fingers stroke

the length of my arm once he’s finished . Oh!His touch elicits a delicious, tickly shiver. I hear him move slowly round to the other side, takes my right arm and cuffs it. Again, his

long fingers linger along my arm. Oh my…I am fit to burst already. Why is this so erotic?

He moves to the bottom of the bed and grabs both of my ankles.

“Lift your head again,” he orders.

I comply, and he drags me down the bed so that my arms are stretched out and almost

straining at the cuffs. Holy cow, I cannot move my arms. A frisson of trepidation mixed

with tantalizing exhilaration sweeps through my body, making me wetter. I groan. Parting

my legs, he cuffs first my right ankle and then my left so I am staked out, spread-eagled,

and totally vulnerable to him. It’s so unnerving that I can’t see him. I listen hard… what’s

he doing? And I hear nothing, just my breathing and the pounding thud of my heart as

blood pulses furiously against my eardrums.

Abruptly, the soft silent hiss and pop of the iPod springs into life. From inside my

head, a lone angelic voice sings unaccompanied a long sweet note, and it’s joined almost

immediately by another voice, and then more voices – Holy cow, a celestial choir – singing

acapella in my head, an ancient, ancient hymnal. What in heaven’s name is this?I have

never heard anything like it. Something almost unbearably soft brushes against my neck,

running languidly down my throat, slowly across my chest, over my breasts, caressing

me… pulling at my nipples, it’s so soft, skimming underneath. It’s so unexpected. It’s fur!

A fur glove?

Christian trails his hand, unhurried and deliberate, down to my belly, circling my navel,

then carefully from hip to hip, and I’m trying to anticipate where he’s going next… but the

music… it’s in my head… transporting me… the fur across the line of my pubic hair…

between my legs, along my thighs, down one leg… up the other… it almost tickles… but

not quite… more voices join… the heavenly choir all singing different parts, their voices

blending blissfully and sweetly together in a melodic harmony that is beyond anything I’ve

ever heard. I catch one word -- ‘deus’--and I realize they are singing in Latin. And still,

the fur is moving down my arms and round my waist… back up across my breasts. My

nipples harden beneath the soft touch… and I’m panting… wondering where his hand will

go next. Suddenly, the fur is gone, and I can feel the fronds of the flogger flowing over

my skin, following the same path as the fur, and it’s so hard to concentrate with the music

in my head – it sounds like a hundred voices singing, weaving an ethereal tapestry of fine,

silken gold and silver through my head, mixed with the feel of the soft suede against my

skin… trailing over me… oh my… abruptly, it disappears. Then suddenly, sharply, it bites

down on my belly.

“Aagghh!” I cry out. It takes me by surprise, and it doesn’t exactly hurt, but tingles all

over, and he hits me again. Harder.

“Aaah!”

I want to move, to writhe… to escape, or to welcome, each blow… I don’t know – it’s

so overwhelming… I can’t pull my arms… my legs are stuck… I am held very firmly in

place… and again he strikes across my breasts – I cry out. And it’s a sweet agony – bear-

able, just… pleasant – no, not immediately, but as my skin sings with each blow in perfect

counterpoint to the music in my head, I am dragged into a dark, dark part of my psyche that

surrenders to this most erotic sensation. Yes – I get this.He hits me across my hip. Then,t

moves in swift blows over my pubic hair, on my thighs, and down my inner thighs… and

back up my body… across my hips. He keeps going as the music reaches a climax, and

then suddenly – the music stops. And so does he. Then the singing starts again… build-

ing and building, and he rains down blows on me… and I groan and writhe. Once again,

it ceases and all is quiet… except my wild breathing… and wild yearning. For… oh…

what’s happening? What’s he going to do now? The excitement is almost unbearable. I’ve

entered a very dark, carnal place.

The bed moves and shifts as I feel him clamber over me, and the song starts again. He’s

got it on repeat… this time it’s his nose and lips that take the place of the fur… running

down my neck and throat, kissing, sucking… trailing down to my breasts… Ah! Taunting

each of my nipples in turn… his tongue swirling round one while his fingers relentlessly