Thick and stuffy, the air in the car bore down on him like so many gallons of water, surrounding him and choking his ribcage. Absentmindedly, he leaned forward and fumbled with the air conditioner knob, being careful not to spill the contents of his lap. It would be a shame to get her dress dirty. Dee giggled playfully as she was tipped slightly backward, tightening her grip around his neck. Bobby returned to his reclined position, laughing into her mouth. She repositioned herself, sliding farther up his lap and closer to his aching bulge. She had continued her fun with the vibrating briefs, zapping him every time he was involved in a conversation or trying desperately to balance their drinks amongst the swirling crowd. He was nearly foaming at the mouth by the time they left the party. Only his vast knowledge of public indecency laws stopped him from tearing her dress off and ravaging her in the spacious back seat of the Towncar. Decades passed before the car finally slowed to a stop in front of her high rise. Bobby tumbled out of the vehicle, nearly meeting the pavement as Dee followed, giggling with pleasure and a slight vodka buzz. He took off for the elevator like a greyhound set loose from the gates, punching the button impatiently while he waited for her to catch up. She entered the elevator just as the steel doors were closing. Bobby grabbed her and twirled her around, her back against the far wall. Without thinking, he lifted her up, her legs spreading around his expansive hips and hugging his frame. He buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting and licking. She moaned loudly, without restraint, her fingers tangling into his hair. Bobby gently returned her to the floor as the elevator announced their arrival. He grabbed her hand, nearly dragging her down the hall to her condo and planting light kisses on the back of her neck as she fumbled with her keys. They fell forward, together, into her front hallway, barely catching each other before they hit the floor. Bobby struggled out of his blazer, throwing it across the room as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Dee raised her hands to help him, landing kisses across his collarbone and sternum. He needed it. He needed it bad. Bobby walked backwards, leading her to her well equipped dungeon. Reaching behind her, he yanked her zipper down and attempted to remove her dress. Dee grabbed his hands and held them to his sides.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she purred, the lust thick in her voice.

"I'm trying to get that damn dress off of you" he replied, struggling only half-heartedly against her hold. He knew overpowering her would be easy. Without her leather and irons, she was a petite woman. Her strength existed only in this room, among these medieval devices. But he didn't want to overpower her. No. He wanted her on top, in control and with the final say. A fact that sent a chill of excitement and fear coursing through his body. She giggled against his lips.

"Why, Bobby, you're being a very bad boy, aren't you?"

"Fuck yeah. I'm a bad, bad boy and you need to get my ass in line." She broke the kiss, placing her hands on his chest and shoving him away from her.

"Strip." One word. One simple, unmistakable word. Bobby complied eagerly, purposely strewing his clothes about. The right corner of her mouth twitched, threatening to turn upward into a smile. "Oh, now you're just asking for it." He stood before Dee, clad only in the ridiculous underwear she had given him. She walked to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder, urging him down. He obeyed, sinking to his knees slowly. Not caring about the consequences, he suddenly reached up and encircled her, resting his head against her stomach and inhaling deeply, his eyes closed. She allowed him to linger for a moment, before curling her fingers into his hair and yanking his head back. Bobby stared up at her, his breaths heaving in and out of his nostrils against the pain. She bent at the waist, bringing her face close to his. "Now you've really done it," she hissed. "Stay there." Dee strolled to her wall of tricks, pulling down a bright purple piece of rope. She circled Bobby, a lioness examining her prey. Coming to a stop behind him, she reached down and grabbed his wrists, bringing them together behind his back and binding them. "Since you can't keep your hands to yourself, you won't be using them today." She started for the door, turning toward him just as she reached it. "If you've moved from that spot when I get back, there will be hell to pay." Bobby lowered his head and nodded. He considered calling her bluff; then he remembered the wooden paddle and the hell it wrought across his buttocks. He shivered, and remained right where he was.

Left alone in that room, his thoughts once again drift toward the cowardly, and the frightened. Years of psychological training told him that this was very, very wrong. The desire coursing through his veins, however, told him that there was no other way. The gruesome crime scenes, the cold blooded filth he was forced to confront daily, his distant mother and his fuck-up brother, all served to make him numb, and force him to shove his emotions aside in favor of a detached logic. Logic didn't hurl insults at you when it was off its meds; logic didn't kill frivolously, and logic didn't stare at you with cold, dead eyes, begging for an answer. Bobby Goren decided then, that pain was better than nothing. The familiar squeak of vinyl against vinyl reached his ears, halting his thoughts. Cautiously, he raises his head. Dee stands before him, in a black vinyl corset with red stripes running vertically, a matching thong, black thigh highs and those impossibly high heeled shoes. He wonders if she ever runs out of corsets. Her hand meets his cheek, stroking him gently as she shakes her head. "I'm very disappointed in you, pig. I think that you have some apologizing to do." Without waiting for a command, Bobby leans down and begins licking the top of her left shoe. The patent leather is smooth and tasteless against his tongue. Dee raises her right foot and brings the heel down slowly on top of his shoulder, digging into his flesh and forcing him to the ground. "Get your filthy mouth off of my Pradas" she sneers, giving her heel a slight twist before releasing him. Bobby grimaces, the floor beneath his face the only witness to his pain. She consults her pegboard of torture devices once again, and he is sure by the sound of thin leather smacking her palm, that it's the cat-o-nine.

"This device is meant for quantity, not quality."

Aw, hell.

His shoulders tense up, preparing for the beating ahead; he's failed to consider the perfect positioning of his ass, however, and a yelp of pain escapes his lips when the first blow lands across his left cheek. A split second later, his right cheek is throbbing as well. Blow after blow, the vicious little tails find their mark, sending surges of blood to his already engorged dick. "What did you do wrong?" she whispers in between hits. When he doesn't answer immediately, she strikes him even harder. "What did you do wrong, pig?" her voice louder now, anger singeing the edges.

"Madame I acted without your permission" he cries, now fully engaged in submissive mode.

"Wrong!" the whip crashes against him, harder than before.

"Madame! I…I put my filthy mouth on your s-shoe!" He's frantic now, unsure of what she wants. The blows cease, and Bobby breathes out.

"Correct. Your filthy little mouth touched my shoe. I think this little pig is due for a bath." He hears the whip hit the floor the same moment he feels her hand around his arm, gripping him and hauling him to his feet. She pushes him, roughly, out of the room and across the hall, to a spacious bathroom. His arms still bound, he stumbles slightly before catching himself, as she flicks on the light. She reaches for his hips and yanks the battery operated briefs down around his ankles. "Get in the shower" Dee growls, her arm flung outward in the direction of the clear glass stall. Bobby complies, stepping carefully over the metal tracking. She reaches past him and disconnects the shower head from its mounted hook. Turning the water on full blast, she doesn't bother waiting for the temperature change before she turns the hose on him, the cold water sending bolts of shock across his skin. Instinctively, Bobby curls his body around itself, trying to escape the chilly blast aimed directly at him. The water soon turns warm, and he relaxes against it. "Face the wall" she instructs, never wavering in her assault. He turns and places his cheek against the cold tile, reveling in the feeling of the warm water against his bruised ass. She gives his large frame a few more passes with the shower head, before ordering Bobby to face her. He turns, placing his bound arms against the tile wall. She makes a few more passes with the water, stopping for a little while on his throbbing member. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall. The water stops, and he opens his eyes just in time to see Dee kneeling in front of him, razor in hand. His eyes widen as she looks up at him. She smiles mischievously. "I like a well-groomed pig," she states simply. Bobby is unable to watch as he hears the hiss of the shaving cream, feels its cool, frothy texture spread across his pubis. Dee smacks the inside of his thighs gently, urging his legs open, and then spreads the cream across his testicles. He moans in response to her touch, almost forgetting what she is about to do. He feels the razor slide down, then across his pubis. After shaving a neat little patch above his cock, she moves to his testicles, working slowly and carefully. Bobby hears a loud pop, then whirr, and opens his eyes just as Dee is trimming the patch above his dick. Satisfied, she stands and examines her work. "There. That's much better" she purrs, reaching for the shower head to finish rinsing away the mess. Bobby glances down at his newly shaven pubis, amazed at how much bigger he looks. "You are to remain neatly groomed for me at all times. Understand?"

"Yes Madame" he murmurs, anxious to get out of the freezing cold bathroom. Dee reaches for a towel and orders him out of the stall. Briskly, she rubs the thick fabric across his body, paying special attention to her newly claimed patch of skin. She works his cock through the towel, gently urging it back to its fully erect state. Bobby moans and buries his face in her hair, still swept up from the party. "That's my good boy" she whispers, releasing him and placing her hand on his shoulder to guide him back to her playroom. He is grateful that the air in the room is warm, the goosebumps on his flesh subsiding. He kneels without being told, anticipating her next request.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" He can only nod in response, afraid that his mouth will get him into more trouble. "I think you need to show me how sorry you are." Bobby dares to raise his head, examining her.

"Madame, may I please remove your shoes and stockings?"

She laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "No, you may not. But, you may watch me as I do it." He studies her as she perches on the edge of the gurney, setting the straps across her ankles loose and rolling her stockings down. Her legs and feet bare, she walks back over to Bobby, an expectant look on her face.

"Madame, may I please kiss your feet?" She responds with a raised foot, flexing her toes inches from his lips. Bobby leans in and begins kissing each toe delicately. The temptation proves too much to bear, and he quickly wraps his lips around as many toes as he can, sucking frantically. Dee tears her foot from his mouth and brings her hand down hard across his cheek.

"That was a mistake, pig. Now you've lost the privilege of your mouth." She walks away from him, out of his line of site. He knows that she's back at her wall, choosing her next device of torture. Bobby feels something tight across his scalp, as the leather hood comes down over his chin, surrounding his face. Darkness swallows him, his eyes and mouth made useless by the fabric sheath. He makes a conscious effort to breathe through his nose, the smell of leather invading his nostrils, two small holes his only source of air. He feels her hand on his shoulder blades, urging him to lean slightly forward. He obeys, careful not to ruin his balance and go tumbling to the floor. He feels her nails rake down his back, and he shudders beneath her touch. White hot pain streaks down his shoulder blades, and something warm trickles a path down his back. Three more blinding flashes of pain dart across his shoulders, his screams lost in the suffocating hood. As quickly as they started, they are gone. Relief floods him, weighing down every limb. Bobby is dizzy, the skin on his back throbbing and pulsing. He feels something round and smooth against his hips and something wet and slick against his cock. Unexpectedly, Dee slides onto him, her smooth core taking in his entire length at once. Bobby groans loudly, thrusting his hips forward, deeper into her. She responds with a moan that he does not hear, raising her hips slightly and bucking against him. Her nails dig into the carpet, her elbows and knees raw from the friction. She angles her body perfectly with his; Bobby is just the right size to graze her where she needs it. Dee bucks faster, bringing herself to climax, her captive lover completely unawares. She screams into the carpet, her fingers twisting deeper into the soft strands. Her rhythm remains uninterrupted, and Bobby feels himself losing control. He falls over the edge, spilling inside of her as he collapses against her back, exhausted. Dee quickly rolls over and removes the hood, and strokes his hair as he pants against her stomach. When his breathing slows to a normal pattern, she grips his hair and buries his face into her wet center.

"Did I give you permission to cum?"

His reply is muffled against her thighs "No, Madame."

"Then get to work." Bobby complies eagerly, swiping his tongue across her still swollen clitoris. She moans to the ceiling, her hips twisting wildly in response to his strokes. It doesn't take long for him to bring her over the edge again, the blessed sounds of her release filling his ears as her thighs shudder against his cheeks. Dee rests for a minute, panting slowly, before crawling behind Bobby and releasing his arms from the rope. His arms thunk heavily against the floor, and he straightens his knees out to relax his entire frame as he rolls on his side. Dee crawls behind him, curving her body against his as she runs her nails down the side of his neck, eliciting a shiver.

"Why don't we go take care of those nasty scratches, hmm?"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Ouch."

It was more of a statement, than an exclamation. The alcohol stings white hot against his beaten flesh, informing him of exactly where on his back he is injured. He sits at her dinette, the chair turned backward, with his arms resting across the top.

"Sshh, darling, almost done" she coos, stretching a large bandage across his torn skin. She had made sure to stand clear across the room while administering the bull whip, careful to deliver only a fraction of the tool's tip to his back. She goes to the other side, cleaning the dried blood to reveal only tiny scratches in his flesh. She dresses them gently, planting a light kiss beside the wound.

"That was ah…i-intense. I didn't think I could handle pain like that." She chuckles lightly.

"You'd be surprised at what the human body is willing to suffer through in the name of sex."

His ribs shake as he returns her laugh, tiny lashes of pain renewing themselves across his shoulders. Realizing that she is done, he turns around in the chair and spreads his legs, leaning forward to pull her into his lap. She squeals playfully, straddling his large frame and burying her face in his neck. "I started to um…g-get dizzy there for a minute. Lightheaded, or something."

"Mmm. Isn't that fun?" she laughs against his skin before standing and taking his hand. "C'mon. It's late." She leads him through the living room and down her hallway into her bedroom. Bobby finds his boxers there, and slides them on as she pulls the covers back and crawls beneath them.

"You ah…you r-really know how to punish me" he states as he slides in next to her, curling an arm around her tiny frame.

"How's that, Bobby?"

"The um…the h-hood, and the blindfold. You know I like looking at you."

She giggles, reaching for the bedside lamp and turning it off. "Well, maybe next time you won't be such a naughty boy." She scoots against him and rests her arm on top of his. "Goodnight, Bobby" she sighs.

"Goodnight, Madame." He rests his nose against her shoulder, the scent of magnolia blossoms carrying him off to a deep, dreamless slumber.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A/N: I have no idea where that whole shaving scene came from. It definitely was not there when I started writing this chapter. Damn that mischievous muse! As always, thanks for reading!