Killing Time by SE Chardou Page A

twenty-four hour slave. I like to play games because they’re fun but at the same time, I also like to be . . . normal.”
    “Is this what you call normal? Abducting me? Driving me out here to your extravagant Southampton estate against my will? Has any of tonight been normal for you?” I shouted.
    He shook his head. “No, this won’t do. You’re going to be a tough one to crack because you aren’t really submissive at all—you just like to act the part.” He leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, “ Sie sind nicht das was Sie zu sein scheinen. ”
    My breath came harder as he grabbed me by my cuffed hands and stood me to my feet. I watched as he led me to a strange looking piece of leather furniture. It was designed like a plush triangle except he lowered me down in front of the highest part of the triangle and my upper body was forced down at an angle with my cuffed hands laid out straight in front of me.
    “What did you say to me?”
    He placed a leather blindfold over my eyes and secured it into place. It was the real deal because my world went completely dark and I couldn’t see anything.
    “I said you are not what you seem, auf Deutsch of course. Are you uncomfortable yet or just horny?”
    “Neither. I am frightened and I want to go home.”
    Rory laughed again. I was tired of being the butt of his amusement. “You’re a grown woman. Stop acting like a child or I will have to spank you. I wasn’t planning on indulging in any of those kind of games tonight as it really isn’t my thing.”
    “What is your ‘thing’—I mean, what . . . turns you on?”
    I felt his hands along the edges of my dress and he pulled it up ever so slowly until it was around my waist.
    I tried to think and concentrate on anything other than the sheer humiliation I felt with my backside open and exposed in front of a man who was not Grayson. I was far from prudish but I hadn’t had a one-night stand since my early twenties. I barely knew this man and yet, he touched my body as if we’d known each other forever.
    There was a reason why I was considered the classic, serial monogamist. I preferred stable relationships with one partner and the familiarity as long as familiar didn’t turn into stale and stable didn’t turn into predictable. I could stand to be on my own but I preferred being part of couple.
    This just seemed perverse. My fiancé at home while another man had his hands on my ass. He pulled my cheeks apart so he could study every inch of the intimate areas between my legs like I was some kind of science project . . . or sex object.
    To be honest, I felt like such a tough shit feminist right now, I would rather be thought of as a science project than a sex object. Perhaps this was the reason why I hated to find out Trésor had been involved in this life. She had a brain and she was smart, beautiful, witty, and could have been anything she wanted.
    She didn’t have to settle for being some empty-brained catalogue model and some Dom’s submissive just because he looked like a fucking rock star and had enough money to rival Mark Zuckerberg.
    She didn’t have to degrade herself like this and succumb to a man for a place to sleep and a casual fuck thrown her way when he felt like it.
    My anger surged through my body and made me try to get up but he forced me back down. “So strong and tough but alas, I am stronger than you. Be still or I will hurt you even though I don’t want to.”
    The tears tumbled down my eyes but they gathered in the leather blindfold and did not slide down my cheeks. I sniffled and felt my whole body wrack with sobs full of uncontrollable rage and anger now directed at myself because I was too curious to see where this would lead. I wanted him to do what ever he wanted to me although it went against every grain in my body to be dominated or controlled. How dare he think he could do what no other man had done, not even Renaud.
    “Shh.” His breath was warm against my cheek and