She took him down a long corridor and up a flight of stairs to a single room at the top. They passed a couple doors on the way but the apartment was silent. He heard no movement in any of the places but their own and even his lady walked with a bit of a tiptoe.
“I’m renting for the night before I drive home tomorrow,” she stated, placing the shorter silver key in the slimmer silver door.
“Where are you from again?” he asked her, removing his hand from her back to check his phone for the time.
Flinging the door open, she tossed her pocketbook on the end table, ignoring his questions. She turned around suddenly and placed her palm over his phone.
She had him tied to the headboard and blindfolded him before he could register the time or check his texts. He was naked and she was tying his feet to one of the posts as she began.
“I don’t like chit chat and I’ll review the rules once more,” she said.
“Can I see you?”
She watched him lick his lips.
“Can I have some water?”
He licked his lips again.
“Rule #1: You will only be allowed to touch me after you follow all of the rules. If you do get to touch me, you have to ask before you do anything. Do you know what that means?”
He hesitated, bound to the wooden frame and unable to see her; her apathy and mocking eyebrow lift as she cooly sipped a tall glass of water out of his reach.
“I have to ask before I touch you.”
He licked his lips.
“But what does that mean?”
She moved closer to his face.
“That before I touch you I have to ask.”
She licked her wet lips next to his ear.
“But why didn’t you?” she whispered
“Why didn’t you ask all night?” she said loudly so he winced.
He said nothing. She took a sip of water and let it dribble down her chin but caught it in her palm before it hit his lips.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s keep going.”
She placed the glass on the nightstand next to him.
“Rule #2: You must repeat after me when I say ‘repeat after me.’
“I said you must repeat after when I say repeat after me.”
“Yes, I will.”
“No, you don’t get it. REPEAT AFTER ME.”
He licked his lips again and moved his head to the right slightly.
“You must repeat after me when I say ‘repeat after me.’ he said and grimaced a bit.
She opened a drawer and took out a metal pinwheel and pressed one of the edges to his nipple.
“Ooh. What is that?”
She bent down and licked his cheek as she moved the pinwheel across his nipple and over his chest.
“You’re very hairy,” she let her tongue run up and down his cheek close to his ear.
“Yesss,” he smiled.
“Repeat after me,” she whispered. “Rule number three.”
She kissed him on three.
“Rule number three,” he repeated, catching on.
She put her mouth to his mouth so she could breathe directly on it.
“My name is Hecate and I enter your dreams every night.”
“My name is Hecate and I enter your dreams every night. Oh, wait. Should I say your name is Hecate?”
She picked up a red lighter from the drawer and lit one white candle on the nightstand.
“Say it both ways.”
“My name is Hecate and I enter your dreams every night. Your name is Hecate and you enter my dreams every night.”
She picked up the candle and sat on the edge of the bed.
“The first story I am going to tell you is about the woman who saw her own death and tried to out run it. Your job is to listen and to figure which story is true.“
He laughed, “You’re fucking something else.”
She let one drop of wax hit the same nipple she had been running the pinwheel over.
“Esssh,” he let out a noise and a wince with his jaw. “Ok, how many?”
“I will gag you if you talk during the story. You are only allowed to talk when the story is done. You may ask only one question,” she let another drop of wax hit, “but you have to wait until I finish. Yes?”
“Yes!” He winced a bit and raised his voice.
She reached for the glass of water and raised it over his lips.
“Open your mouth.”
He licked his lips and parted his mouth slightly.A tiny shudder passed over him that only himself, a trained psychologist, or a trained sadist would notice. She let the cool liquid dribble onto his lips at the same time she let the hot wax trickle over one breast to the next. Reaching his neck toward her, he lapped at each lip.
“Good boy,” she said. “No talking. I’ll give you drops of water as you need them.”
She stood up and walked around the bed to sit on a stool that was placed at the end of the bed near his feet. Letting her platforms drop loudly, she placed one bare feet on the post spreading her legs wide, wide enough to reveal the sheer black panties underneath her blue and cream and floral sleeveless dress that inexplicably matched the groomsmen the way the body shimmer and the tinsel neck piece had. She placed the other on his ankle.
“It starts now. It’s called The Woman Who Saw Her Own Death. First up, the dream about the alligator.”
She saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed his own spit for moisture.
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