He wore night-vision goggles, of course. He had to be: how else could her husband — sorry, Master — track her movements in the pitch black room?

Erin groaned, letting her head fall back on the bed. Zach’s saving account was probably empty after this weekend. Night vision goggles, voice changers, and expensive hotels… he’d really gone all out.

She snatched at the piece of silk Zach was trailing further and further up her leg. Tried to snatch it, anyway. He jerked it away at the last second, leaving her fingers to close over empty air. She let out a frustrated growl.

The sound was cut off as a strip of silk slid between her lips. Erin gasped, hands going to the strip of cloth, but Zachary tied it off behind her head before she could fight him.

“Leave it,” Zach commanded in his artificially-deep voice.

Geez, he’d definitely gotten into character, hadn’t he? This had nothing on the cosplay events him and Mason attended where they’d dress up as someone from one of the many computer games they played together.

“Sorry,” Erin said. Tried to say: the gag muffled her words into ‘owee’.

God, please let him have kept the receipts. She was going to insist he take everything he splurged on this weekend and return it. It would be good to make sure nothing got knocked off or dropped on the floor: returns were usually voided if the items showed signs of use.

How did you determine signs of use on a pair of night-vision goggles, anyway?

“You disobeyed me, slave.”

“What?” This came out:‘wa?’

“I said you were to strip naked at the door.” Zach twanged the elastic band of her panties. “What is this, pray tell?”

Pray tell? Erin snorted but managed to jerk her hip out of his reach. She began to explain, realized anything she said was an awkward mumble of vowels and gave up.

“I want you on your knees,” Zach said.

Erin moved from her cross-legged sit, coming up to her knees.

Despite everything, the darkness in the room was actually quite sensual. Not being able to see Zach made it quite interesting. He could be anyone: a deranged scientist wanting to experiment with her unwilling flesh. A football jock. A famous actor. A famous actress. Erin squirmed a little, her knees digging into the soft pelt laid across the bed.

“Put your hands out. Wrists together.”

She did as Zach commanded, gasping when he tied a rough rope around her wrists. With a tug, her arms shot above her head. Somehow, he’d attached her to the bed, her trussed-up arms now lifted above her head. She jerked on them, but there was no give whatsoever.

If this hadn’t been a four-poster bed, Zach would have had some serious explaining to do….

“Spread your knees.”

Still caught up in her thoughts on what was going on above her head — had he tied her a post? — Erin let Zach’s deep voice slide over her without anything latching on.

Something soft struck the back of her thigh.

Erin gasped, tugging back on the rope as she straightened her spine.

“What the fuck?” she yelled. Or, at least: ‘wa tha fu?’

“Disobedience carries harsh penalties,” Zach said. “As does swearing. Don’t think I can’t tell what you’re screaming through your gag.”

Erin slumped. Whatever he’d struck her with hadn’t hurt: it had just been nigh unexpected. She bowed her head, hoping Zach would take it as an act of contrition, and waited.

“Your knees, slave.”

She jerked her knees apart.

“More. Until your muscles start pulling.”

When she stopped again, Zach snorted. The sound was awful, coming through his voice changer as it did.

“That it? I thought you did gymnastics in high school.”

Erin rolled her eyes. It would be just like Zach to mix that up: it had been Lexi who’d done gymnastics, not her.

A touch on her belly. Something cool, supple, stiff. Leather?

That touch trailed down her belly and slid behind her panties. Zach jerked her underwear open, sending a cool gust of air over her sex. Erin tried to fold forward, gasping at the sensation, but her ties prevented her.

“I think this should come off, don’t you?”

Erin moaned in agreement.