How Machiavellian. How gothic. I was to be reduced to a character in a cheap novel. But he couldn't hurt me anymore. No suffering could surpass what I...was feeling already.He led me to the table and let go of my wrist to position it. The whole table twisted on some sort of hinge, and sure enough, when it was vertical, it looked exactly like a big "X." There were leather buckles at each corner, and I passively let him fasten first one wrist, then the other to the uppermost portion of it. My. He looked down at me, intrigued. Without giving him any indication of what I wanted exactly I reached up and slowly undid his belt. The blinding white of the leather was in heavy contrast to his dark wash jeans, and black sweater. His clothing seemed to be screaming to be removed, to show the beautiful body hidden beneath the cloth. Pulling the leather free of every loop, I discarded it quickly. My fingers began digging at the button of his jeans immediately. They trembled harshly, making the. More

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