Page 58 of The Good Girl Effect
He’s winding two threads of rope around my body, knotting them at my back and my stomach in various places. It brings him so close, and I get to breathe in his scent and feel his touch without it being like it was on the Métro today.
That moment frightened me. The last thing I want to feel is how heavenly it is to briefly experience something I can’t have.
When we’re up here, the lines are drawn and we are stepping into roles with defined parameters. It’s easy.
Today was different.
He refrained from using the blindfold again, touching it briefly when he was pulling out the ropes, and I held on to hope that he would finally deem the trust between us worthy. Instead, I close my eyes, letting the darkness engulf me as he works. His nimble touch sends me into a state of relaxation. I can tell by the way Jack is working that he’s getting just as much enjoyment out of this as I am.
I feel like his doll, something he can play with. He’s winding rope around my body like it’s his favorite hobby.
My arms are above my head, giving him access to my torso when my fingers brush the brass loop hanging from the ceiling. Without uttering a word, I turn my head up toward them.
“Those are suspension hooks,” he says, noticing my curiosity. “We won’t use those for a while. You’re not quite ready for that.”
I press my shoulders back and stand up straighter at that, which makes him chuckle as he works to loop the rope into a small knot around my rib cage.
“You don’t like being told you can’t do something, do you?”
I shake my head.
“Well, I didn’t say youcouldn’tdo it. I said you can’t do ityet.”
I let out a huff and press my lips together.
“We’ll work our way there. Someday, you can.”
I nod softly, pleased with that answer.
“Sometimes, obeying me means being patient. It means doing what I say but also not doing what I forbid. Understand?”
I hesitate. This is the one thing I don’t want to hear. Not because I want to disobey him but because listening when I’m being told what I can’t do isn’t something that comes as naturally to me. Call it stubborn pride or fierce independence, but following orders is far easier than following restrictions.
Isn’t it enough that I keep quiet for him? That I nod and shake my head quietly and do what I’m told, standing still as a statue for him as he ties me up?
Suddenly, Jack jerks hard on the harness wrapped around my torso. I fly toward him with a gasp. His face is close to mine, much like that first night in this room before we found our restraint with each other.
“I said understand?” he repeats with his mouth near mine.
My jaw clenches, and my nostrils flare, and as much as I wish I could argue and rebel, I’d much rather hear his praise than his discipline. So with reluctance, I nod.
“Good girl,” he rasps with a wicked smile against my cheek. That phrase works to thaw some of the ice inside. “I think we should do some exercises to practice restrictions,” he says, and my interest piques at that. “Tell me, do you ever touch yourself after these sessions?” he asks.
My cheeks grow hot, and I swallow nervously.
“Answer the question. Yes or no?”
Dragging in a shaky breath through my parted lips, I nod.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says before leaning in from behind me. His lips are next to my ear as he adds, “So do I.”
Arousal floods the space between my thighs, so I clench them together tightly. The thought of Jack getting so turned on by this time with me that he has to pleasure himself afterward is enough to make me want to climax right here. Sparks of excitement dance down to my belly.
Why is he telling me this? How is this showing restraint?
“From now on, I don’t want you touching yourself. Understand?”
My brows furrow. I even turn my head toward him, although I can’t see him. But this rule doesn’t make any sense. How would he even know if I did? Is he going to come check my panties for signs of pleasure? Is he going to install cameras in my room to watch me?
