“Just kidding. I wanted to see if you were paying attention.” He chuckled.

“Seriously? Now, after I’ve come all this way, trusted you with so many things, now you’re going to turn out to be a serial killer?”

“No. I was just teasing. A little Dom humor. Not very funny apparently.”

“Yeah, not funny.”

“I’m just excited to show you my dungeon toys.”

“Your what?”

“Yeah, I made them just for your visit.”

I didn’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out. “Huh.”

“I’ve never liked the things other people come up with, so I created my own—I had a bench made with iron rings for bondage, and I made my own set of stocks—you know, like they used to have in the village square with the place for your head and hands to go through. But mine have a place to lock your ankles in too, giving me easy access.”

My mind automatically imagined the things he could do to me with equipment like that. I stared at him. “My God, you’re perverted.” Then I rushed toward him, taking his face between my hands and kissing him hard. His mouth welcomed my attack and instigated one of his own. He lifted me up by my ass, and I hooked my legs around his waist. I held him tightly between my legs, grinding my pelvis against the bulge in his jeans.

“I thought you’d like it,” he mumbled between slashes of his tongue against mine. Clutching my bottom, he carried me to a closed door just off the main living space, somehow managing to open the door and turn on the light.

As the room became illuminated, I looked past him, my eyes transfixed by the tufted chaise lounge with multiple iron rings attached to the sides, the assortment of tools and rope that hung from hooks on the wall, and the large contraption in the middle that took up most of the room.

“What do you think?” he asked, and I slid down his crotch and walked around the room, wanting to get a closer look at everything.

“I think it’s amazing. Kinda scary, but mostly amazing.”

He tucked his hands in his pockets and tried to look modest, but his face beamed.

“How long have you had this? This mini-dungeon?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “I’d call it a playroom.” He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of this stuff for a while, but these pieces are new.” He pointed to the chaise and the stocks. “I got them for you. I was using this room for storage, but sometime after Houston I decided this would be a better use for it.”

“So, you’ve never brought any of your other subs here?”

“Not to this room. I think one came to my house once, but only for coffee.”

“Coffee?” Did he really expect me to believe that?

“Yeah. During the get-to-know-you phase. I don’t usually play at home. I prefer hotels. Gives me a chance to leave whenever I want.”

“So why bring me here?”

He rolled his eyes. “My God, Sophie, don’t be a pain in the ass. Because you’re different! I made these things for you. I want to redden your ass with this.” He pulled a riding crop off the wall. “I want to tie you down to this and drip hot wax all over your naked body,” he said, pointing at the chaise. “I want to make you my prisoner, lock you into this thing, make all of your holes available to me, take you in all of them. Do you want to know why?”

I could feel my pussy dampen, and I squeezed my thighs together. Words refused to come so I simply bobbed my head “yes.” My knees weakened, and I took a gulp of air.

He closed a hand on the back of the neck. It made me nervous, but comforted me at the same time. “Because I need to make you mine.” His voice, that familiar snarling, menacing voice that had rocked my world over the miles all summer, reverberated directly in my ear.

Overcome with emotion, I dropped to my knees in front of him. “Please, sir. Make me yours.”

He patted me on the head. “Since you’re my guest, little one, I’ll let you choose. What should we use first?”

I glanced around the room and pointed at the stocks. “I’d say that one, but you just did me from behind a couple of hours ago…”

“Ahh, but it’s versatile, my pet. I can lay you on your back as well.” A wicked smile spread across his face. “Go to the restroom and prepare yourself. Come back, naked, when you’re finished.” He helped me to my feet and showed me to a small restroom down the hall.

I went to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, ran my fingers through my hair, and walked back down the hall to Quentin’s kinky room.

“Good girl,” Quentin said, and I was disappointed to see that he was still dressed. I’d hoped he would have at least taken off his shirt so I could get a good look at his amazing abs. “Now lie down here.” He indicated the padded bench part of the stockade. It looked rather narrow and I was afraid I might tip to one side and fall off, but I needn’t have worried because as soon as he locked my head and wrists in the wooden stocks, he pulled out some foot rests that reminded me of the stirrups at my OBGYN’s office.

“Rest your feet on these while I get something.”

The stocks that were clapped around my neck and wrists kept me from seeing what was happening to my feet, but the edges were padded and my head did have a thin padded cushion behind it so my head and neck hopefully wouldn’t become sore.

I stretched to watch him grab some coils of rope off the wall, then return to my feet where I couldn’t see him anymore. “Close your eyes. I want you to focus on feeling me tie you up. Think about what I’m doing to you, what I’m going to do to you. Think about your safe word.”

Closing my eyes, I laughed softly. “Bluebird.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Just practicing.”

“All right. Keep it to yourself unless you mean it from now on.”

“Yes, sir.”

He lifted my right leg and positioned it the way he wanted it. I was a doll with bendable limbs, and when he got my leg the way he wanted, he secured it with rope. He started by wrapping the soft rope around my thigh, and each time he wound it around my leg it felt like a caress, a lover’s kiss, and I heaved a happy sigh as I anticipated the next pass. After capturing my thigh, he pressed my calf up next to it and wound the rope around it as well. Finally he attached the configuration of ropes together so that one side of my lower half was trussed up like a frog, wide and open.

Next he proceeded to do the same with my other leg, sliding each bit of rope so delightfully over my skin that my entire body came alive, leaving my senses alert to every nuance of his touch.

“You’re already so wet and I haven’t even touched your pussy,” he observed. “That’s a good girl.” Pinching my erect nipple, he said, “See? These are the sorts of things I miss when our play is cyber.”

“And your touch, sir. I crave your touch.”

To my surprise he leaned down and kissed me. My eyes were closed so I didn’t see his mouth descend on mine, but he quickly pushed roughly between my lips and claimed me with his tongue, curling it over mine, licking, tasting, devouring me. I returned his passion with my own, and when he pulled back I reached up for more. Taking my bottom lip between his, he tugged and sucked it before finally biting mine and letting me go.

I whimpered, as much from his retreat as from the nip of his teeth.

“I’ve missed my little slut. I have to admit I didn’t realize how much I would crave having you in real life, until I had the chance and then it was gone. Since then, I’ve stayed up so many nights thinking of what I would do if you were here. And now you are—all tied up with nowhere to go.”

A moan leaked from my lips. Damn, I wanted this so badly, whatever it was he was going to do to me. But the instant I felt something smash against my naked pussy, I considered changing my mind.

“This implement is something you smack yourself with frequently in our cyber sessions. Can you guess what it is?” he asked, smacking my goodies again.