Free Guilty Pleasures by Kitty Thomas

Anton that she’d had the energy to bring herself off. And the only fantasies in her mind since then.
    She’d wanted to give him that control even though he didn’t deserve it. She wanted to give that control to someone. But it couldn’t be Michael. It would never be Michael.
    Her hand drifted to wipe the tear strolling down her cheek. “Sir,” she whispered.
    “Take off your clothes.”
    From the tone in his voice it was clear he was no longer interested in a show. Suddenly the idea of a few moments before, peeling the clothing off her body as she danced for him, seemed much better than this cold and perfunctory removal of fabric.
    She wanted to go back, rewind. Obey. But she couldn’t, so she unbuttoned and removed the top, then the skirt without further resistance.
    “That’s enough. I like you in this. Did you wear it for me, Vivian? Even though you thought I’d never see it?”
    She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks again. “Yes, Sir.” She wore a black lace bra and panties with matching stockings and garter belt. The fuck-me pumps on her feet added a full three inches to her height, but Anton was still taller.
    He led her to the bed without a word and positioned her over his lap. She let out a gasp of surprise at the first blow across her ass. Several more landed in quick succession until she lost her breath, and the tears came in earnest.
    Her flesh heated as his hand fell on her. She could barely stand the humiliation of being turned over his knee like some child. As if he were in the right and she were in the wrong.
    His hand stroked softly over her skin. “You’re angry,” he said unnecessarily.
    She wanted to make a smart ass remark about his amazing ability to state the obvious, but she kept her lips pressed together in a firm line. She wasn’t that stupid.
    “You have no reason to be angry. I made clear to you the bargain you were making. I gave you the opportunity to leave. Blackmail or no blackmail, you didn’t have to walk into this room with me.”
    She remained silent, not trusting herself to speak, still feeling the urge to lash out at him.
    His hand lifted from her, then came down in another sharp snap. “We aren’t stopping until you let go of your anger.”
    Vivian struggled to get away, her first real attempt. She’d thought not fighting would make it go faster, but she couldn’t imagine not being angry with him. He was trying to break her like a horse, and fantasy life or no fantasy life, she wasn’t having it.
    “Get the fuck off me, you bastard.”
    He released her, nudged her the tiniest bit, and she slid to the floor, crumpling in a little heap at his feet.
    “I don’t have time for this. I have a five o’clock.”
    “Someone like me?”
    “Someone like you two weeks ago.”
    “I hate you.”
    He smiled down at her. “That’s probably a wise emotion to have toward me.”
    She struggled to her feet and started toward the door where her clothing had been left. “Show Michael the tapes and photos, I don’t give a shit.”
    He came after her, his hands encircling her wrists. “I didn’t say you were leaving, just that I didn’t have time for this right now.” He led her to the bathroom. She tried to struggle away from him, but tottering in the too-high heels didn’t give her much ability to maneuver.
    Her eyes widened when they got inside the small room. A sturdy bar was installed vertically next to the tub. A pair of handcuffs lay on the floor next to it.
    “Get in.”
    “No.”
    “Vivian, I am quickly losing patience. Things will go much easier for you if you obey me.”
    She saw the warning in his eyes and didn’t want to test it. She climbed into the tub. He looped the handcuffs around the bar and secured her wrists.
    “Screaming is pointless, but feel free to wear yourself out.”
    Anton made it to the door, then turned, a smirk sliding over his face. She shrank from him when he came back with purpose in his eyes. He ran his hand over her