"Miss Mason," she heard Mr. King's stern voice coming from the hallway outside of her bedroom. Shit. He sounded angry.
She had just gotten ready for bed in shorts and a t-shirt when she heard him. She quickly walked toward the door and opened it, seeing him standing in the dark hallway.
"Mr. King?" She questioned.
"Can I speak with you?" He asked firmly. She was so confused. He never came to her room like this.
"Um, sure," she said uneasily, noticing the red satin ties he held in his hands.
"Follow me," he instructed, turning to walk down the hallway.
"Uh, okay," Katherine agreed, shutting off her bedroom light before following him across the apartment.
She watched as he opened the door of the home gym and turned to let her in.
"In here?" She asked, looking at him skeptically.
"Yes, Miss Mason. In here," he said, barely even looking her in the eyes.
"Okay," she breathed, stepping into the large mirrored room.
Mr. King shut the door behind them and locked it. Her insides tightened, wondering what in the hell was going on. Why did he have satin ties in his hand? Was this her punishment? Was he going to strap her to the exercise bike and force her to work out?
"What is going on, Mr. King?" She asked, turning toward him as he stood by the door.
"Miss Mason, are you aware there are cameras in nearly every inch of this apartment?" He asked evenly. Her insides immediately knotted up. Oh, shit.
"N-no," she stammered.
"Every room but the bedrooms and bathrooms are monitored," Mr. King elaborated.
She was in deep shit. She knew it. She let Ethan kiss her. She kissed him back – after Mr. King specifically told her to stay away from him. But how – how did he find out so quickly? It was only a few hours ago.
But then it dawned on her. It must have been Mr. Roberts that told him.
Her stomach turned and she swallowed hard. If Mr. Roberts saw her and Ethan kissing in the kitchen, then there was no telling what else he'd seen – starting with the night Mr. King fucked her on the dining room table.
"Mr. Roberts—" She croaked out.
"I told him to keep an eye on Ethan while I was away," Mr. King told her.
"He's... he's seen everything, hasn't he?" She stammered, feeling almost betrayed.
"Everything?" Mr. King asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Yes, everything," she spat angrily at him.
"He sees what needs to be seen, Miss Mason," he retorted.
"Including you fucking me on your dining room table... and your desk... and against your office door? And you fingering me in the kitchen," she snapped at him, feeling absolutely sick to her stomach.
"He only sees what needs to be seen, Miss Mason," Mr. King snapped back at her.
"Fuck. I didn't sign up for this," Katherine grumbled under her breath, feeling absolutely violated.
"I assure you that every single person on my staff has signed the same NDA you have," he told her evenly.
"That's beside the fucking point, Harrison!" She yelled at him, feeling so much anger.
"The footage is only kept if it's something substantial," Mr. King added, showing absolutely no emotion.
"Oh, god. Fuck you," she snapped at him.
"I didn't mean it like that, Katherine. And you'd be well-advised to watch your mouth," Mr. King said sternly.
"What did you mean?" She asked him, narrowing her eyes again at him.
"I meant that footage has been long since erased. If Mr. Roberts saw it, he will never speak of it. Ever," he informed her.
"But he has seen it! And who knows whoever else. That's the point," she told him, her nerves grating the more he spoke.
"If you quite remember, it was written in your contract that there would be surveillance at the house," Mr. King reminded her. As she thought back, she realized he was right.
"I read that long before you fucked me! How am I supposed to remember that?" She snapped at him. Mr. King took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his shoulders noticeably relaxing.
"Miss Mason, how am I supposed to give you your punishment when you're so distressed about something that is out of my control?" Mr. King asked, his voice sweetening up as he took a few long strides toward her.
Katherine's body tensed with his words and her mouth went dry. He did bring her in there to punish her.
"Are you going to tie me up?" She asked him, looking down at the red satin material in his hand.
"Yes," he said effortlessly, sliding the material between his fingers, stretching out its length. Her body shivered, but not necessarily in a bad way.
"What are you going to do to me?" She asked him, her voice shaking slightly.
Mr. King took another step toward her so they were standing flush against each other and lowered his lips to her ear.
"I'm going to tie you up, Miss Mason, on that exercise bench over there. And I'm going to go down on you. But I'm not going to let you come. Not until I feel like you've sufficiently learned your lesson," he breathed in her ear, making her shudder. Goosebumps slid across her skin, and the heat and desire shot up in her like gasoline on a fire.
"But the cameras..." Katherine whispered.
"There is no one in the security room to see it, Miss Mason," he assured her. She took a deep breath and nodded her head.
"Good girl," he said, smiling wryly at her.
He grabbed her wrist and led her toward the exercise bench he previously spoke of. She felt his fingers at the hem of her t-shirt, and without question she lifted her arms up and let him strip it off of her. She stood in front of him half-naked and watched as his eyes looked her up and down.
"Drop your shorts and panties," Mr. King told her and she immediately obeyed, silently slipping them off.
"Now lie down on the bench with your arms up and your bum on the end," he instructed her. Katherine took a deep breath, but did as she was told as Mr. King moved toward the top of the bench.
"Grip onto the poles, Miss Mason," he told her and she did as asked.
"This is for talking back to me the other morning, Miss Mason," he started explaining as he began to tie her right hand to the first pole.
"And for ruining yet another one of my belongings," he continued as he tied up her other hand.
"And for kissing Ethan after I explicitly asked you to stay away from him," he finished as he reached over and slapped one of her bare breasts, leaving a stinging red mark across it, causing her to hiss under her breath.
"Do you understand, Miss Mason?"
"Mm-hmm," she hummed, biting at her bottom lip.
"Do you understand, Miss Mason?" He snapped, accentuating each word before slapping the other breast even harder than the first.
"Yes, sir," she hissed between clenched teeth.
"Now, spread your legs for me, Miss Mason," Mr. King said, walking around to the bottom of the bench, undoing his neck tie as he did. She did as asked, her eyes never leaving him. He looked so fucking sexy. She almost couldn't take it.
"Did you like kissing my brother, Miss Mason?" He asked, his words so sugary sweet, she knew they were bad for her.
"No," she breathed, narrowing her eyes at him.
"It sure looked like you did," he countered and her stomach turned.
"You watched it?" She balked, narrowing her gaze further at him.
"I had to see the betrayal with my own eyes," he said evenly, his expression unchanging.
"Betrayal? If you watched the whole thing you would have seen me push him away," she seethed.
"Not before you stuck your tongue down his throat," Mr. King challenged, causing her rebuttal to dry up on her tongue.
"Did you like it, Miss Mason?" He asked again.
"I didn't... I didn't like that it wasn't you," she whispered honestly.
Mr. King's eyebrow cocked as he looked down at her. She stared back up at him, tears threatening at the back of her eyes. Silence engulfed them and she couldn't read one single emotion on his face. He was infuriating.
A moment later, he sank down to his knees in front of her, and she raised her head as well as she could, painfully stretching the muscles in her neck just to see him. His eyes were already glazed over as he took in her naked body stretched out before him.
She anticipated his touch like she anticipated her next breath. She sighed when she finally felt the palms of his hands slide up her inner thighs. Goosebumps cascaded across her flesh as a tingle spread up her spine.
"Do you remember what I said?" He asked lowly.
"W-what?" She stammered.
"You're not allowed to come," he said, his words sounding more like a threat than anything.
"Y-yes," she breathed.
"Relax," he cooed, sliding his palm up her abdomen.
Katherine rested her head back down against the bench and closed her eyes, trying to even out her breathing. But it was of no use.
When she felt his tongue slide up her slit, her breathing labored almost immediately. Her body shuddered as he continued, his tongue swirling, his lips sucking the intense bundle of nerves. Pleasure engulfed her almost immediately and she moaned inwardly.
"Do not come, Miss Mason," Mr. King hissed, slapping her vulva, much like he slapped her breasts earlier.
"Ahh," she cried out before he continued to go down on her.
As the minutes ticked by, the more and more the aching need to come enraptured her. She needed it so badly. Her body was writhing and shuddering so much that he needed to hold down her legs. And just as she felt the fruitful feelings of orgasm begin, Mr. King pulled away completely.
"Fuck. No," she cried out, whimpering, needing the release so badly.
"You may not come, Miss Mason," Mr. King hissed, looking up at her.
"Harrison..." She whined helplessly.
"You are being punished, Miss Mason. You may not come," he reminded her.
Katherine tugged at the ropes binding her wrists. She wanted so badly to touch herself, to give herself some sort of relief.
"Uh-uh, Miss Mason. Why do you think I've bound your hands?" Mr. King tutted, smirking devilishly at her.
"This isn't fair," she whined.
"I told you exactly what was going to happen before I began," he reminded her.
"I didn't know it would be like this," she whimpered as she moved her hips to resituate herself on the bench.
"Like what?" He asked curiously.
"Like... like sexual torture," she sighed, biting at her bottom lip so hard that all she could feel was pain.
"I can assure you this is not torture, Miss Mason. You'd know if I was torturing you," he told her.
"Have you... have you tortured someone before?" She asked, not even sure if she wanted to know the answer.
"No, not torture. But I've done much more challenging things to someone before," he answered evenly.
"Sexually?" She asked, cringing as she said the word.
"Yes, Miss Mason," he answered and her stomach dropped. She didn't want to think about him with anyone else.
"I think you're ready to go again," he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.
"Again?" She whined.
"Yes, Miss Mason, again," he said as he disappeared between her legs.
He did this three more times – bringing her to her brink only to back away when she so desperately needed a release. She cried out each time. And each time her body filled with more and more rage.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit him. But above all else, she wanted to come.
Each time it got harder and harder to handle. And when he went back for the fifth time, her tears finally began to fall. She wept as her body rose and rose and rose with sexual pleasure. Her body writhed uncontrollably, knowing it wouldn't find its release.
"Stop! Stop it! Stop now!" She screamed, feeling like she couldn't take it anymore.
Mr. King's head popped up from between her legs, staring at her with a look of question.
"Stop it now!" She snapped angrily.
"Katherine?" He questioned, wiping at his mouth.
"Red!" She screeched as she remembered the safe word. Mr. King looked absolutely stricken.
"Untie me," she seethed.
"Katherine, are you okay?" He asked with a stunned look on his face.
"Untie me right now, goddamn it!" She snapped, staring down at him with angry eyes. He stood up quickly and untied her, one hand at a time.
"Katherine," he said quietly.
She stood up quickly, nearly falling over because her equilibrium was off. Mr. King caught her by the arm.
"Don't touch me!" She snapped, ripping her arm away from him.
"Katherine, please," he said softly.
Katherine bent over and picked up her clothes, replacing them quickly on her body, her legs aching from being held open for so long.
"You're fucked-up. So fucking fucked-up," she snapped at him, before she moved toward the door, unlocking it and throwing it open.
She ran to her room, away from him. She didn't want to be near him. She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't be around someone who was so fucked-up that they needed to torture women in order to be sexually satisfied. Fuck that.
She slammed her bedroom door and fell into a heap on the floor. Her body ached. Every muscle was on fire. The tears never stopped. She felt so violated, so used.