His Dark Obsession by Zoe Blake Page A

body before wrapping around one trim ankle.
    “No, please, not my ankles too!” she pleaded, bending her knee in an attempt to pull free.
    Pierce ignored her pleas. Wrapping the silk bonds around her ankle and securing it to the lower post. He then moved to the end of the upholstered bench. Sarah bent her free leg up, twisting to the side in a futile attempt to avoid the inevitable. With a little more force than necessary, Pierce snatched her leg back, stretching it wide, before securing her ankle to the final post.
    Pierce took a moment to appreciate the view. Her legs were forced open but not obscenely so, just wide enough to fit his hips. Her chemise still covered her modesty, her cunny in shadow under the linen draping. With her arms stretched up, her back was forced to arch, pushing out her round full breasts. He could still make out the faint crescent outline of his bite mark on her flesh. Her glorious hair fell about her like a drape. One day soon, he would use those long tresses to bind her, he thought with a secret smile.
    Sarah closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side, unable to bear the humiliation of his blanket scrutiny.
    “I’m afraid this chemise is going to get in the way of your punishment.”
    That was the only warning she received before he fisted the material at her navel and easily tore it away as if it were mere tissue. Sarah cried out in alarm but was powerless to stop him. He looked down at her sweet cunny, up till now he had only gotten teasing glimpses of the hidden gem. Unlike her dark sable hair, the curls covering her mons were soft brown and sparse, barely a whisper, allowing him to see her soft nether lips slightly covered with dew.
    Returning to the cabinet, Pierce opened one of the tall doors, when he turned back, Sarah started to cry in earnest when she saw the object in his hand.
    “No. No. No! I don’t want to do this. I’ve changed my mind. You cannot punish me with that …it’s for horses!” she wailed.
    Pierce stroked the long stiff length of the riding crop he held in his hand. It really was a beautiful piece of handicraft. The handle was carved deer antler. The sturdy shaft golden Malacca cane. The braiding and keeper made of soft black leather.
    “It really is adorable you think you have a choice in the matter,” he darkly intoned stalking towards her.
    “I do! I do have a choice,” she sniffed. “You can’t do this.” Sarah struggled against her binds but they were too tight, she was trapped. Lost in the sensual haze of his caress and the foggy memory of her confused emotions from the earlier spanking, Sarah allowed herself to be caught up in his lascivious game but now it had become too real. Her early misgivings that he was too dangerous, too overwhelming for her came crashing to the fore.
    Stroking her cheek with the flat leather keeper, Pierce gave her a bemused smile. “My dear, I captured your free will for my own the very moment you allowed me to touch you on the street.”
    Sarah gasped, knowing the truth in the harsh statement.
    Pierce glided the keeper down her cheek, over the curve of her jaw, stopping briefly at her collarbone before laying it to rest right down her middle. The heavy antler handle resting against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves hidden between her legs.
    Sarah whimpered.
    Pierce picked up the black box camera. This was the first time he would be using the early model and he could not think of a better subject. The freedom to be able to hold the camera in one hand and easily reach the shutter button opened up infinite possibilities for the type of photographs he wanted to explore with his little minx. The added benefit of numerous exposures only increased its usefulness.
    Pierce stood at the end of the bench, lining up the frame.
    “I don’t want my photograph taken,” Sarah said petulantly.
    “I didn’t ask,” he responded firmly.
    The black hard edge of the riding crop as it laid along the white softness of Sarah’s