Page 19 of Turn Me On
I stared at the laptop screen. A lot of black numbers on a white screen. Big numbers. “Tell me what it all means.”
“This,”—she pointed to the number in the high hundreds—“is our subscriber count.”
“Holy shit! Already?”
She pointed to another number on the screen. “Here are our impressions. And here are the views on each video that is already uploaded. The one from earlier today is doing the best, but some solo videos of me I added from a while back are doing well, too.”
I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “That’s insane. Wait—what is that one?” I pointed to theverylarge figure with the dollar sign beside it.
It couldn’t be…
Her grin was so big, I could practically see all her pearly white teeth. “That’s our revenue. Everyone who has subscribed to the paid content for this first month. The club gets forty percent, but that still leaves us with a healthy chunk.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s…that’s more than we make in three months of work. I don’t understand how. It’s only been a few hours.”
She shrugged. “The newsletter? People sharing? I’ve been running advertisements, too. So, whatever it is, let’s hope it keeps going.”
I dropped my hands to her shoulders and squeezed. “This is amazing, babe.”
“Do you think you’d be up for maybe filming another video…now? I could get it edited and put up fairly quickly.”
“Yes!” I answered before the last word had left her lips.
She chuckled. “I’m worn out from earlier,but maybe we could do some impact play instead? Give my pussy a break, and get the memory of Brad out of my brain at the same time.”
“I would freaking love that, babe.”
She whirled around in her chair and rocketed out of her seat. “Give me a minute to set up a few cameras and then we can get going, okay?”
“I’ll get the toys. Are you feeling more sting-y or thudd-y tonight?”
She hummed. “Definitely want the sting.”
Rooting around in the middle drawer of the dresser, I pushed aside the paddle and flogger and opted for a riding crop, a bamboo cane, and an evil stick. My favourite thing to use was my hand, of course. Nothing like the sharp slap of my palm on her dimpled skin to get me going, but these were fun, too. I set each option on the bed in a row.
“Ready?”
She nodded, stripping off her robe and taking her place on the horse-style bondage bench. “Everything is recording. We’re good to go.”
Her breasts spilled over the top as she pressed her body down. In this position, itwas almost like having her on all fours, but her legs and arms were supported by two lower rungs, while her body laid across the padded top part of the bench.
I needed to wrap each leather binding around her ankles and wrists to secure her in place. Not everyone bound their partner to the bench. Many people just laid on top of it, but Charlie tended to pull away, and the straps helped her stay anchored both in body and mind.
Kneeling on the ground beside her, I trailed my fingers down the supple skin of her thigh and around her calf. When I got to her ankle, I pulled the strap around it carefully. Threading the metal prong through the hole to secure the hold. She wiggled her toes as I checked the hold, her pretty emerald nails glinting in the low light—the same colour as her eyes.
I did the same to her other ankle before moving to her wrists. With these, I allowed slightly more leeway, allowing her to pull up to her elbows if necessary. I tightened the first cuff and lifted her elegant fingers to my lips. Her nails were the same deep shade of emerald. I sucked one of her fingersinto my mouth and swirled the tip of my tongue around it.
She hummed her approval as I moved to the next finger—sucking, licking, biting. I continued with each one until she was murmuring her approval into the air.
“Tight enough?” I asked, securing the last cuff.
“Yes,” she breathed, head to the side, soft cheek resting on the red cushion.
Her thighs were spread wide, ass in the air, waiting for me to do as I pleased. I took a moment to feast on her with only my eyes. The cushioned flesh over her muscles, the delicate weight of her belly pressed against the surface of the bench, the softness of her inner arms exposed for me to play with. Her giant red curls, mussed from our night together, fell in tangles around her face. An absolute goddess. My thick woman, built to handle me in every single way. She’d never looked more beautiful.
No matter how hard she struggled or pulled, she wouldn’t be able to get away. Not without me.
“Let’s get you out of your head and back into your body,” I mumbled, picking up theriding crop and giving myself a test snap on my palm.
