(18+) The Guest (Complete)

Ch. 101: Ridiculously romantic II (bonus chapter)

One and a half years ago, I was living a life where everything was staked out for success. My future was set and I thought I was happy. Only, I didn't know what true happiness was until I met this wonderful man named Michael Jackson. And even though the choices I'd had to make were difficult at the time, it was an easy price to pay to be where I was today. I studied my wedding ring. Then I glanced around in the bedroom, that Michael had decorated to utter perfection. It would have made even the most romantic fanatic breathless. I'd just been too busy with the man who did it to notice until now. That man. My husband. And right now he returned from the bathroom with the cockiest smirk.

...and his goldpants. And in his hand, he dangled a pair of handcuffs.

"Ready to be tied up, wifey?"

"What?" I choked, but he knew I'd heard him loud and clear.

"Not 'what'. It's 'Yes, Sir'."

I gulped and automatically sat up with my legs curled up underneath me and my hands on my thighs.

"Y-yes, Sir," I stuttered and bowed my head. Then he came close enough to lift my chin so he could look into my eyes.

"Didn't hear you."

"Yes, Sir!" I exclaimed louder, and straightened my back even more than before. And Michael's greedy eyes went to my cleavage and returned to me a with fiery look.

"Good. Come with me."

I knew I wasn't allowed to ask questions, and to be honest I didn't feel the need to ask anything, either. I trusted him blindly. So I took his hand and let him lead me through the house and into his office. It was locked, which I found strange, since he usually didn't lock any doors as long as it was just us. But when he opened the door I found out why.

"You just had to buy one, didn't you?" I asked and started laughing, totally forgetting my role as submissive. And Michael forgot his role too, and grinned sheepishly. Then Mr. Diaz returned, and he commanded me to sit down in the infamous gynecologist chair, and spread my legs for him. And not even a minute later, I was chained to it with handcuffs on my wrists and ropes around my ankles, with a smirking Michael in front of me.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he mumbled to himself. Then he walked around his desk and pulled out a blindfold which, according to him, would sharpen my senses. Then it was dark.

"And now we're gonna have some fun."

The room was silent except for the sound of his feet against the carpet. I could also hear him rummaging around in what probably was the same drawer he found the blindfold, and I guessed he was placing it on his desk for easy access. But what was this big 'it'?

"Are you comfortable?"

"Mhm."

"Nuh-uh. I asked; are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Sir," I corrected myself. Then I whimpered when I felt something squeeze around my nipple. Then the other one, indicating that it probably was the clamps we'd used once before.

"You're not allowed to make any sound."

"Yes, Sir."

"None at all."

I didn't answer.

"Good girl. Because if you do, I might have to punish you. And it might or not might include a gag. Or maybe a whip."

Then he paused for a couple of seconds before he continued with his darkest voice. The one that made me shiver in rising heat.

"Or maybe something completely different. It depends on what I feel like at the moment. Understood?"