Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Twilight universe but you guys already knew that.
Author's Notes: So after an unfortunate event involving a pug, my computer & a spilled bowl of cheese dip, this is now going to be a 3 part story, rather than the 2 I originally told you. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you guys think.
On a different note, I am going to be a part of The Fandom Gives Back, Eclipse Edition charity auction. I am very excited to be a part of such an extraordinary event and hope that all of you will join us in this cause. The details are on my profile, as is the website for all the information. I will tell you guys this…I am putting up 3 one-shots of EverClear or EverClear Revamped….buyer's choice of content. So all the EC groupies out there, if there is a scene you REALLY wanted to see that wasn't in the story, now is your chance. I am also going to do a couple of small outtakes from EC with reminders of the auction as we get closer to the actual auction.
In the meantime, I give you Part 2…..
I stared, wide eyed and perfectly motionless, for an undeterminable amount of time trying to take in everything before me. Every where my eyes darted, there was another strange sight, each one more bizarre than the last. Edward had been very busy in the time I'd been blindfolded. The room, so average when I'd walked in, was nearly unrecognizable.
He'd shoved the couch back to the far corner of the room. In its place was what looked like two folding card tables with a camping mattress laid out on top of them. The coffee table was to the left of the "table". It was obvious there was quite a bit of things laid out on it but it was covered by a slightly dingy towel that had a large red Budweiser logo in the center. A small side table that I'd not noticed when I'd first come inside was to the right. In the center of the table, where the veneer was peeling away, was a small army of lit and flickering gingerbread men staring at me with identical looks of horror on their faces. A quick flash of Gingy from "Shrek" as he was dunked into the giant glass of milk struck me as I looked into the beady eyes of the little figures. There were five candles in all, each a different height and width but all sported the same light brown coloring, red and green stripes at their wrists and ankles and the disturbing Mr. Bill "O" shaped mouths.
But the shock didn't end there. Against the wall between the two doors I'd noticed when I'd first entered were what appeared to be canoe oars. There were four of them total. As far as I could tell, he had somehow nailed two of them together at the narrower handle end, so that the flat paddles were at the ends. Then he had arranged them in the shape of an "X" and secured them in the middle with what I thought were elastic bungee cords that we sold to people to tie down things into the backs of pick-up trucks. There was something hanging from the highest ends but I couldn't tell exactly what from across the room. And lying in the center of the room where the coffee table had been was an air mattress, covered with a set of pink flannel sheets with small white clouds on them that I knew for a fact had been in the clearance bin in the Home section of the store last week.
But the strangest thing in the room, by far, was Edward himself. He stood before me with the same sexy smirk that made me weak in the knees but that was the only thing that was recognizable from just a little while earlier. The tight black tee shirt and jeans he'd been wearing when he picked me up had been replaced with a shiny slick vest and pants. On the right side of the vest was a bright orange patch of some sort and on his wrist were a pair of black wrist bands, like the kind people wore to work out. Only his were turned inside out so that the Nike logo was only an outline. His long hair was tied back in a pony tail at the base of his neck, something I'd never seen him do before. I stared at him for a long moment before I realized I why his outfit seemed so foreign yet so familiar. When it hit me, I literally had to bite my lip to keep the laugh that was dying to spew out of my mouth from flying.
Halloween. Edward was dressed in the Outlaw Biker costume that we'd carried for Halloween. The shiny material was supposed to be leather.
In that moment, as I tried to contain my hysterics, I realized what he was doing. He had read the book. He was trying to create my fantasy for me. He had made his "place" into a playroom. It was the most spastically sweet thing I could imagine anyone doing. I also decided in the next second that I was not, under any circumstances, going to ruin this. He had obviously put in a lot of effort for the sole purpose of making me happy and I was going to appreciate his efforts, odd as they were. I just needed to relax, submit to my gorgeous boyfriend and enjoy our night together.
"Isabella?" his voice broke through my haze of disbelief.
"Sir?" I said, my excitement at the term returning a little bit.
"Tonight, you will follow my instructions to the letter. If anything becomes too much for you, your safe word will be 'Munchkin'. Do you understand?"
I bit my lip again to contain another burst of laughter. "Munchkin" was the code word at the store for natural disasters, like tornados or hail storms or houses dropping out of the sky. Unable to speak without giggling, I nodded my head up and down to let him know that I understood.
His victorious smile told me that I'd made the right decision by not laughing. He seemed so proud of himself as he stared at me. His gaze was hot as hell as his eyes roamed up and down my sundress, pausing at the cleavage that my new lingerie had created.
"Such a beautiful little thing," he said in that deep tenor that I was quickly realizing was a huge turn-on. He reached out and gently stroked my cheek, making me smile at his tender gesture. "Turn around."
I did as commanded and turned to face the room. The terrified gingerbread men stared back at me as my eyes landed on the soft light they cast, again making me want to giggle. But when I felt his hands on my shoulders, the giggle quickly died. Very slowly, he slid his hands across my shoulders and down my arms. He took each of my hands in his and pulled them back behind my back. I felt a soft material loop around my wrists a couple of times before I felt him tie them off. Holy fuck, he'd tied me up exactly as the picture on the cover of the book! I imagined the red bandana that he'd blindfolded me with wrapped around my wrists as I worked to steady my breathing. Maybe tonight would turn out to be a lot more than funny after all.
"So it turns out that my girl is a bad girl," he said quietly behind me as I felt his fingertips at the base of my neck. He scratched his nails down my spine until I felt him at the top of my sundress. "Well, what am I going to do with such a bad girl?" he whispered in my ear, his lips tickling against my earlobe. His hands left my back and gripped my hip bones tightly as he pulled me against his body. The gasp that left my mouth at the move was silent as he answered his own question. "Anything I fucking want, that's what I do with my bad girl."
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on his voice and his words. I felt the heat on my chest and arms as I blushed at the vivid images that flickered through my head. I felt his hands return to the top of my sundress and then his fingers as he tugged at the zipper. He had lowered it several inches before he stopped and muttered something under his breath.
"Fucking zipper," he said slightly angrily as I felt him quickly undoing the bindings on my wrist. It hit me then what his problem was. He had forgotten that my dress would have to come off over my arms. That same stupid giggle tickled in my belly as I felt him hastily finish pulling the clasp of my dress down. With no pretense, he pushed the material away from shoulders and let it fall into a puddle at my feet. He huffed out a sigh as he retied my arms behind my back. As he pulled the knot tight I thought to myself how lucky it was that I'd worn a strapless bra for our little adventure.
His hands returned to my back, only now they were pressed flat against my skin. He ran them all the way from my shoulder blades, over the strap of my new bra and then to the thin scrap of lace that sat on my hips. I shivered as he hooked his long fingers under the lace and gave a slight tug. My shiver turned to an appreciative sigh as he traced the lace across my lower back until his hands met in the middle at the base of my spine. With a sharp tug, he pulled the lace upwards.
"Ow!" I said as I stepped away from his atomic wedgie. What I hadn't thought about was the fact that his hands still gripped the fabric. The loud "rip" that echoed through the room stunned me for a split second before the cool air that I felt confirmed my suspicions.
"Oh god, I'm sorry," Edward said with a tinge of fear in his voice. I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline, with my panties dangling from his fingers. He looked down at the now ruined underwear and then to me, the flickering lights from the gingerbread men reflecting on his plastic vest.
"Its fine," I said with what I hoped was a smile as I thought about the six dollars that I'd wasted.
"Bella, I'm sorry. I'll replace…"
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," I replied as I turned my head back around and away from him. The urge to snicker at how uncomfortable he looked became nearly uncontrollable.
He cleared his throat behind me and then I felt him step closer to me. His hands touched my back just above the hook to my bra for just a second before I felt him fumbling with the clasp. I prayed that he would move slow enough to not damage my new bra as the seconds ticked by with no release. Finally, I felt the material fall away and I let out my breath with relief.
I was reminded by the loud grunt from behind me that I was now standing in the basement of Edward's parent's house, butt naked with my hands tied behind my back while staring at a blow-up mattress covered pink and white flannel clouds.
To my left, stood a table full of wax voyeurs with flames coming out of their heads and petrified expressions on their faces as my boyfriend stood behind me in a plastic biker outfit waiting to use his cross made out of oars.
I was startled out of my inner comedic monologue when he stepped in front of me, his face serious. His eyes, dark and heavy, looked positively animalistic as he stood quietly in front of me. I let my eyes wander only to his shoulders, trying desperately to ignore the neon orange patch of his costume.
"Isabella, I have a question for you and I want you to nod your head 'yes' or 'no'. As a sign of your willingness to submit to my every desire, to my every command, I want you to wear my collar."
Now, I had read about being collared in a dozen different books. It was always depicted as such an intimate exchange, full of trust and emotion. He really was trying to create my fantasy for me. It seemed that he'd studied the book and picked up on even the smallest details, just for me. In that moment, I loved him more than I ever had. Even the day that he'd fired Jessica Stanley for being a bitch to me in the break room (we all found out later that she'd been hormonal due to the "little surprise" she was now expecting with either Mike Newton or Tyler Crowley…whore).
There was no other answer I could give him but to nod my head in acceptance.
I kept my eyes locked with his as he pulled something from the pocket of his "pants". I felt the thin leather strap against my skin as he reached around to fasten it. His fingers worked quickly against the clasp. I could feel the small metallic notches in the collar against my throat as I swallowed but I had no idea what it looked like. When he finished, he stepped back and admired my new decoration.
"Beautiful," he murmured appreciatively as he began to circle me. I closed my eyes and tried to settle myself, hoping that we had now had our odd moment and that the rest of the night would work out better.
He took a step in the right direction towards helping me get into the right frame of mind as he leaned forward and began to kiss my neck. His hands grasped the outside of my arms as his lips trailed down my neck and over my shoulder. With a small shove, he began to walk me forward. I let him lead me, trying to be as compliant as possible, toward the two card tables. But the crinkle of his plastic pants distracted me terribly. I was doing a pretty good job of not snickering as we crossed the room until he pressed himself against me. When his chest made contact with my back and the vest stuck to my skin, I almost choked on my tongue trying not to make any noise. He was trying so hard and I didn't want to ruin it for him. I managed not to make any noise but I couldn't help the spasm that made my shoulders jerk as we reached the tables.
"There's nothing to worry about, I won't hurt you," he said, trying to soothe what I guess he thought was my fear of what was to come.
"Yes, Sir," I squeaked out as I let my gaze wander over the thin camping quilt. I wrinkled my nose, though, as the smell of bug spray hit me and I was infinitely glad that he was still behind me. As my knees bumped the edge of the closest table, his hand touched my hip, letting me know to stop. I stood still as he moved around from behind me and to the middle of the table. He placed his hands about a foot apart underneath the table, bracing it, as he turned to look at me.
Very gingerly, I raised my knee up and placed it on the table. Reflexively, I tried to pull my hand from behind my back to steady myself. But since they were still bound, all I managed to do was to throw myself off balance. I wobbled slightly but then managed to balance myself. When I was sure I was under control, I raised my other leg off the ground. I hung in midair for a second, one knee bent onto the table and the other a couple of inches off the ground. I straightened my back, hoping like hell that I wouldn't topple face first off the make-shift bench. Slower than I knew I was capable of moving, I pulled my leg up until I was kneeling on the table. I looked at Edward briefly to find him smiling at me. He let go of the edge and wrapped his right arm across my chest. I leaned into him and let him lower me onto the Eau du Mosquito cover below.
The smell of insect repellant was overpowering as I lay my cheek against the scratchy material below. And when combined with the smell of gingerbread, it was downright nauseating. Unable to stifle it, I raised my head and coughed into the air beside me. Edward quickly bent so that he was eye level with me and apparently caught a whiff of the putrid combination of smells.
"Ew, that's pretty harsh," he muttered as he stood and walked away quickly. He returned just a second later with two things in his hands. I could have kissed him as he lifted my head and placed a small pillow beneath me, this one smelling of the Manspray that he always wore. He then raised a bottle of Febreeze and began to spray all around me. The cold mist hit my skin and raised goose pimples on my arm for just a moment. But the smell of the mountain rain scent was so much better than ginger man bug spray, that it didn't even bother me. "That's better," he said with a smile as he leaned in and sniffed his handiwork dramatically. He tossed the bottle to his right without bothering to watch where it landed, although we both heard it thud against the concrete floor of the basement.
"Stretch your hands out over the edge of the table," he barked in a tone of voice I'd only ever heard him use at work. It was generally reserved for dressing down the guys who forgot to push the carts inside from the parking lot or for someone that was late coming back from their lunch breaks. It was very sexy and slightly disconcerting at the same time. Before I had time to ask him exactly how the hell I was supposed to do that with them bound behind me, I felt him pulling at the bandana. Only a moment later, it slipped away from skin and I felt that weird tingly sensation you get when you put a rubber band around your arm for later and then forget about it until you hand starts to turn blue.
I did as he asked and watched as he moved from the side of the table to directly in front of my head. Lying on the table, I was now eye level with his dick and the possibilities of the night began to invade my senses. Without looking at me, he bent over and picked up something from the floor. I heard the snapping noise of the item against the leg of the table before I felt him grip my arm. A warm sensation began to spread across my body as I felt him place something hard around my wrist and then snap it shut. He repeated his actions with my other arm and then gave them both a slight pull to make sure they were secured. Enjoying the excitement that had begun to take over, I looked down to see what he'd used to secure me to the table.
And wished I hadn't almost immediately afterwards.
Around both wrists was a neon blue pair of handcuffs. That, in and of itself, would not have been a bad thing. Except that there was sticker on the flat part near the lock that read C.H.I.P.S. Holy Mary, Mother of God! He'd used toy fucking handcuffs from the children's section of the store. I'd rung up a pair identical to these just the other night. The package also contained a shiny gold badge, a pair of imitation aviator sunglasses and a picture of two guys from the seventies with bad hair-dos and cheesy smiles.
This time, I couldn't suppress the sigh of aggravation that escaped my lips.
But my Edward, my sweet clueless Edward, didn't seem to notice the emotion that went along with it, if his evil chuckle was any indication.
"My naughty girl likes being bound, doesn't she," he said in his "new" voice. I didn't dare answer him, sure that I would say something inappropriate if I opened my mouth. He seemed to take my silence as submission and continued on with his plans for the evening.
"I'm guessing that since the pages of the book that discussed wax play were highlighted, that you liked them, correct? You may answer."
I nodded my head in agreement. But that wasn't what he wanted at the moment. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled back, much more forcefully than he had ever touched me before and leaned in so that his mouth was no more than an inch from my ear.
"I said answer me, not nod you head, Isabella."
Okay, this was more like it. This I could get into, idiot handcuffs or not.
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."
"That's better," he purred as he released his grip on my hair. I let my head fall back onto the pillow with a genuine smile. I just had to keep reminding myself that Edward wasn't a multimillionaire CEO of his own corporation. He didn't have a private jet or properties around the globe or thousands of dollars to spend to build a playroom. He was my good old boy, hard working Edward and he was doing the best that he could just to make me happy.
"Now, remember your safe word if this get to be too much."
I closed my eyes and let my body relax. I was on pins and needles for what was coming, if his comments were any indication. After just a few seconds, I felt the first splash of hot wax as it hit my back, right between my shoulder blades. The feeling was unlike anything I'd ever experienced in my life. The red hot feel as the wax made its first contact with my skin was like magic. And then, as the wax began to cool, the skin below tightened ever so slightly. It was fucking glorious. I reveled in it as I waited for him to splash some more across my body.
The next splash of the liquid heaven hit my back directly down my spine. I moaned in absolute pleasure as it cooled, not even caring what I sounded like. I heard a small chuckle from above me as he continued to pour the wax over my ass cheeks and down both my legs. All the strangeness of the night faded away and was replaced with a surge of pure lust like I'd never felt before. By the time he poured the wax on my outstretched arms, I was nearly panting.
"Someone like that," he said seductively as his finger traced the line of wax he'd made down my spine.
"Yes, Sir," I said breathlessly. "More please, Sir."
"My, my. I had no idea what a nasty girl you are, Isabella. Whose nasty girl are you?"
"That's right. Mine. Are you ready for me to remove the wax?"
"Whatever you'd like, Sir."
"Perfect answer," he said as he moved around to stand in front of me. Without moving my head, I watched as he bent down to pick something up off the ground. When he stood back up, a leather belt was grasped in his hand.
If the wax hadn't already done the job, the sight of him holding that belt sent me into the stratosphere. I was so wet, I was positive that I was going to leave a wet spot on the cushion below me. Very deliberately, he folded he belt in half and then held both ends tight. With a swift yank, he snapped the belt loudly, eliciting another loud moan of anticipation.
Without a word, he began to drag the belt over my wax covered arms. Up and down he moved, making several passes from my wrist to my shoulders. When he brought the belt down on my forearm the first time, I jerked out of excitement.
"Ahhh…Sir, please," I begged him.
His answer was another easy swat at my right elbow, followed immediately by a harder swat to my upper arm. I could not have controlled the noises I was making or the nearly convulsive movements of my body if a gun had been pointed at my head. I was writhing, actually fucking writhing, in pure lust with every slash of the belt. He worked his way down my right arm and then across my shoulder blades. He was getting more confident with each strike and had started to move down my left arm when he paused.
"Oh crap." The tone of his voice startled me. "Shit…um?"
I opened my eyes to try and figure out what was going on. The first thing I saw was the now melted little men on the table beside me. The faces had run with the heat of the flame, leaving them all looking like melted transvestites. The next thing I saw was my arm and immediately, I understood his reaction.
My arm looked like a brown and red candy cane. The wax that had moments ago sent me into orbit had left dark stains all over my arm! Without thinking about where I was or what I was doing, I moved to try and sit up.
"Bella! Don't!" he said in a rush as I tried to pull my knees toward my chest. But it was too late.
Quick as lightening, the tables rocked violently and then moved. I felt my entire lower body falling at the same second that I heard the crash of the lower table. When the dust had settled, I was left bent over at the waist across the first table, still bound by the toy cuffs. My brown and red stained ass was shining like a full moon as I tried to find my footing around the mattress that was hanging below me. I groaned in frustration as I banged my forehead against the pillow that had, in the crash, begun to take on the same horrid smell as the cushion.
"This night! Could it possibly get any worse," I thought to myself as I tried desperately not to fall or make the table that was barely holding me up collapse.
I got my answer ten seconds later.
With a jolt of fear, I heard a door from very close by open and then footsteps on the wooden stairs on the other side of the room.
"Edward? Edward, baby, you home?"
"Mama?" he responded as I tasted bile in my throat.