Mafia Kings: Roberto: Chapter 63

He led me to a private room, maybe 20 feet square, and shut the door. The relentless pounding of the electronic music was suddenly muffled.

The smells of the club faded, too. The stink of sweat and sex was gradually replaced by the scent of the gorgeous man’s cologne: musky with a hint of spice.

The lighting was dim and the surroundings were shabby, but they were far less seedy than the rest of the club.

A shelf against the wall was stocked with towels and a basket full of condoms in foil wrappers.

There was also a small twin bed with threadbare sheets, a metal folding chair, and a sink.

The linoleum floor was clean but scuffed.

It reminded me very much of the room I’d been held captive in when I was 16.

Nicer, but similar.

“Would you like some music?” the gorgeous man in the suit asked.

“N-no,” I mumbled.

He smiled at me kindly. “What would you like?”

“I…”

I glanced at the metal folding chair, and my heart skipped a beat.

I couldn’t look at him as I said it, so I stared down at the floor.

“…I’d like to be tied up.”

“On the chair?” he asked gently.

“Y-yes.”

“Naked or clothed?”

My heart skipped several beats.

I suddenly felt hotter – and wetter – than I ever had with any boyfriend.

Nevertheless, I was still frightened, so I said, “C-clothed.”

“Alright, but I’ll need to charge you first. It’s six thousand baht an hour, with a one-hour minimum. You can pay for the first hour, and then I’ll ask if you want to continue when your time’s up.”

Baht was the Thai currency, pronounced ‘bot’ in English.

There were 33 baht to a dollar, so the price was roughly $180 US.

“A-alright,” I said as I fumbled in my purse.

I handed him the cash. The man counted it, then slipped it inside his suit jacket.

“Thank you. I’ll need to go get some things. Do you prefer rope or something else? Scarves, maybe?”

“R-rope, please.”

“Any preference? Nylon? Cotton? Polyester?”

“I… I don’t know.”

He smiled kindly. “Would you prefer something soft?”

“Y-yes, please.”

“Great. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

He opened the door, letting in the pounding music, then shut it behind him.

Once he was gone, I started to have a panic attack.

What are you DOING?!

You’re in a SEX club in fucking THAILAND, and you’re going to let a stranger tie you up! You IDIOT!

I stood there, wondering if I should bolt out of the room –

But I didn’t.

My need was greater than my fear.

And then… after a couple of minutes passed… I began to fear I’d been duped.

That the man had taken my money and wasn’t coming back.

I wondered if I should just leave –

When there was a gentle knock on the door.

The handsome man smiled apologetically when he walked in. “Sorry. Took me a while to find what I wanted.”

Around his shoulder was a large coil of thin, white rope. He held another in his hand.

My heart beat twice as fast as normal.

The gorgeous man shut the door, dropped both coils of rope on the floor, and gestured to the chair. “If you will.”

I hesitated, then sat down on the chair.

“If at any point you want me to stop, just say so,” he said. “You’re in complete control. Just tell me, and I’ll do whatever you want. Would you like me to proceed?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He smiled and knelt down in front of me –

Just like Prince Charming kneeling before Cinderella.

I was 22 years old –

But for a second, I was 16 again, back in the room with my captor.

The gorgeous man in the suit began to tie the rope gently around my ankles.

The rope sliding across my skin felt like pure sex.

Better than sex.

I stifled a moan.

“Let me know if it’s too tight,” he said.

“It’s not,” I breathed out.

He smiled and continued to tie me up.

Every brush of the rope was like a lover’s caress…

And every time a loop tightened, I felt my heart thud in my chest.

When he finished tying my ankles, he asked, “Now your hands?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically.

He knelt behind the chair and tied my hands together.

The experience was even more erotic than when he’d bound my ankles.

I stifled a moan as the rope tightened around my wrists.

When he was finished, he sat down on the bed opposite me.

I sat there, lightheaded, my panties absolutely drenched.

He smiled at me kindly. “Is that good?”

“Yes,” I moaned, then blushed to hear the passion in my voice.

He chuckled, then asked, “Is there something else you’d like?”

I stared at him. “Like… what?”

He shrugged. “Would you like me to touch you?”

My face burned hot as lava.

I took a long time to answer…

But every desire I’d had in the six years since my kidnapping flashed through my head.

“…yes,” I whispered.