grimaced, pushed it aside. I knew immediately tonight wasn’t going to work the way I wanted it to. Synra was easy prey, even if I couldn’t find her right away. No challenge remained.
My watch beeped. Thank fuck. I could fuck her and send her on her way.
Synra fell from the ceiling like a cat. Clever girl, using the latticework I'd installed on the ceiling for suspension play. With a quick grin, she bolted for the door to the bathroom.
I gave a half-hearted chase.
Chase.
Fuck.
I leaned forward, grabbed at her arm. Before I could grip it, she pulled away and dashed to the side.
She gave a crazy scream and darted forward again.
I made sure to give it a good show, but I let her slide into the wetroom mere seconds before I did. One orgasm coming up.
“Get on the table,” I said, my voice hard.
Her body trembled as she followed my orders without argument.
Willow would have fought the order. Told me to go jump off a cliff or walk into rush hour traffic.
Synra climbed up on the table, her ass up in the air. The thought of touching her body with mine turned my stomach. Tightened my chest.
There were ways around it. And she certainly wasn’t going to go home unsatisfied. She got situated on the stainless steel table, her legs already spread for the straps at the corners. Her cunt was dripping. I secured her ankles as if on autopilot.
My mouth turned down. Blindfold. That’s what I needed. I’d set up the scene, she’d played by the rules. She would get an orgasm that would temporarily blow her mind. And then she could be on her way.
Fuck. I should have just come home and gone to bed. Drank whisky to deal with the frustration. Gotten drunk enough to obliterate tonight from my working memory.
“Mr. Penn?” Synra asked softly.
I moved around to the watertight storage against the wall. Pulled out a blindfold. “You’ve earned this.” I turned back around. “Close your eyes.”
Obediently, her lashes fell.
I snarled silently. No fight. No push back. Nothing but smooth, unbroken obedience.
Securing the blindfold, I moved back to the storage. Pulled a couple toys from the depths. I was going for speed and efficiency. Hard, fast, and dirty. Just the way I liked it.
I checked each toy to make sure the batteries still worked and that there was no corrosion on the device itself. Each one passing muster, I set them on the table between Synra’s spread legs.
“You did a great job hiding, pet. You’ve earned this,” I said. I slid my fingers up in her pussy, a quick, gliding jab of intrusion.
Her body jerked as a moan slithered from her throat.
It was the wrong pitch. The wrong woman. It was all wrong.
I gritted my teeth and pushed forward. Gathering some of her juice on my finger, I slid it up and spread it over her clit.
Her body rocked on the table. Her hips pushing up the slightest degree to increase the pressure.
I slapped an open hand to her thigh. She knew the rules. “Stop.”
All motion ceased.
With my thumb and index finger, I spread her pussy lips and exposed her clit. With my free hand, I grabbed the toy that made women into weeping sex fiends. The Satisfyer Pro had earned its reputation. One I didn’t enjoy fighting so I rarely used this toy.
But like I said: hard, fast, and dirty.
I settled the toy against her body and turned it on. Almost immediately her body tensed and went from aroused to orgasm in ten point four seconds. She screamed as her body quaked on the table.
I kept the toy against her, forced more orgasms on her. Eventually, it was her begging me to stop that put a smile on my face.
Mini quakes and tremors made her body dance after close to six orgasms in what felt like an hour, but it had probably only been close to a quarter of that. I unstrapped her ankles and pulled her into my arms. Carrying her back to the dungeon, I laid her on the queen size mattress in the corner that my subs used. I wrapped her up in her favorite weighted blanket, made sure to turn the heat up in the room, got her a bottle of water from the fridge, and left.
Never before had a sexual encounter left me so…bored and unsatisfied. I closed the door behind me and headed back upstairs. I didn’t mind sex being transactional. Hell, I preferred it that way. No messy emotions