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preference from the last time. I didn’t know what to make of Antonio. But I just nodded. He found a bottle in a small refrigerator I hadn’t noticed, right next to the bed, and handed it to me. I took a deep, refreshing drink. I didn’t know what was in store next, but much of my earlier disquiet had faded in the face of the pleasure he had given me.
    “Sit up at the foot of the bed,” he said, walking towards me with a length of black rope in his hands. He took my left breast in his hand, and wound the rope around it, going around and around till my skin was hot to the touch, and my breast was bulging obscenely from its binding. He moved to my other side and repeated the procedure to my right breast.
    “How does that feel?” he asked me. I could feel my skin throbbing, a dull ache filling my chest.
    “They hurt a little,” I admitted.
    He laughed and showed me the nipple clamps. “And they are about to hurt a lot more,” he said silkily. His eyes were on mine though, searching for signs of unease or fear.
    I looked up and grinned at him, a relaxed, insolent grin. “Do your worst,” I drawled.
    He laughed again. “Ah, Lucia,” he said, his voice appreciative. “How does that attitude of yours go down at Casanova, I wonder? They must belt your ass black and blue if you sass them like this.”
    I didn’t answer his question. I was well-behaved in the club. Antonio seemed to bring out every little defiant bit in me.
    He pinched my heated nipples quickly and attached the nipple clamps to them. I hissed in pain as my breasts throbbed even more. He waited for me to process the sensation, and I took several even breaths to calm myself. “Okay?” he asked me quietly, when I finally looked into his eyes.
    I nodded.
    “Say it,” he insisted.
    “Stop treating me like a child,” I snapped. I had no idea why I did it. I wanted Antonio to throw everything he could at me, and I would take it and beg for more.
    His lips twitched, but he ignored my outburst. His hand reached out and stroked my hair, and then he brushed it from my neck and grabbed a bunch of it. “Up,” he said, his grip tightening on my hair. A gush of arousal from my pussy was my body’s response to his grip, and I fought not to shudder, not to reveal how much pleasure that brought me.
    He noticed though, and his lips brushed gently at my exposed neck. “Do you like that, little thief?” he asked softly. “Do you like when my hand tightens in your hair?”
    I nodded silently, not trusting myself to speak.
    He guided me to the head of the bed, my hair still tightly wound around his hands. “Lie down in the center of the bed,” he ordered. “And spread those legs, sweet Lucia.” I followed his directions silently, and he placed a pillow under my head and brushed a hand across my lips. I kissed his hand automatically, not even realizing what I was doing, and blushed furiously when awareness dawned on me. Not good. I couldn’t get fond of Antonio Moretti. He was a play partner, nothing else.
    His eyes met mine as my lips brushed across his hand, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just took my wrist in his hands, and fastened the cuff around it, and then stretched my hand out and tied me to one end of the bed. He repeated the procedure for my other wrist.  My ankles were pulled up and cuffed next to my hands at the head of the bed. I was doubled over, my pussy and ass obscenely on display. I was entirely under Antonio’s control.
    I shivered slightly. It almost caused panic in me to realize how comfortable I was. How much arousal I felt, and how little fear. Antonio was pure pleasure.
    “I want to know every inch of your body, little thief,” he murmured. He walked away, and returned with a small bowl filled with clothespins. I winced. If he put them on my pussy or my breasts, I could deal with the pain. Anywhere else, and I’d turn into a whimpering ball of agony, and I’d safeword in minutes.
    “What’s the matter,