Dressed To Kill by L. Lisa Lawrence

She drew the riding crop slowly, teasingly down the center of his chest to his groin, which she playfully circled before bringing it down on his inner thigh hard enough to raise a welt. He felt a surge of arousal and anger.

As he lay on the four poster bed, naked, in biting leather restraints he looked at his wife of 20 years with amusement. He hadn’t wanted to bother with her on this day, much preferring to spend it with his current mistress, a much younger and more sexually adventurous woman, but she had surprised him by delaying her trip a few hours so that they could spend part of Valentine’s Day together and setting up the bedroom as a play area.

She didn’t look like herself. Clad in a leather bustier and thigh high boots with stiletto heels and wearing a red wig, she looked much like the woman he currently preferred, taller, wilder, kinkier… He would still have plenty of time to hop in the shower and meet her for their hotel rendezvous in the city.

His cell phone rang, and again she brought the crop down on him hard, admonishing him for not turning it off, which she deftly did with one leather gloved finger. “ I told you to turn that off”, she hissed. “Now you need to be punished.”

“Who does this bitch think she is?” he thought to himself. As a man who enjoyed this sort of thing even if it wasn’t professional quality, he knew that he’d have to put her in right back in her place as soon as it was all over.

Placating her for an hour or so whilst getting off was a small price to pay in order to maintain control over her money. Her father’s capital is what had started and kept his tech firm afloat through hard times; but he was going make certain that she was quite clear on the penalty for stepping out of line or disobeying him, and he was going to enjoy it.

Roger was a man who enjoyed the fear he instilled in other people whilst keeping them under his thumb. His own brother had been a victim of his bullying and abuse his entire life, and there were even rumors in the small town they grew up in that he had been cruel to animals as a child.

He enjoyed his kink. Most powerful men would never admit to enjoying being dominated in sexual play and Roger was no exception. He had a personal and business reputation to uphold, but he did enjoy playing this role, if for no other reason than it charged him up to return the rough play as a form of punishment. His mistress still bore the marks of their last several sessions. Since she foolishly thought that he would leave his wife for her, she endured it. Little did she know that he was already tiring of her and was working on his next conquest.

He was snapped back to reality as she placed the plastic bag over his head. He was into a lot of things, but autoerotic asphyxiation was not one of them; that’s some weird shit. He tried to object, but she just laughed at him as he pulled and kicked against the restraints which were biting into his flesh, his curses muffled by the plastic.

Kneelig on the bed, she placed a sharp stiletto heel atop his now shriveling manhood and said, “And you call me a stupid bitch. You, the great technology innovator couldn’t even be bothered to secure your wifi hotspot on your phone, making it quite easy for someone else to log into your business email, send messages and complete financial transactions. You sent a message to your little skank telling her to come over here instead of meeting you in the city because you had a special surprise for her. She’ll be very surprised when the police find her here with your dead body after an anonymous report from a worried neighbor.”

“That phone call you received a few minutes ago, it is a voice mail from me which your brother played as he called your cell phone from my cell phone over 100 miles away from here. Those cell phone tower pings will prove I was nowhere near here at your time of death. You should have been nicer to him growing up and should have noticed how he looks at me.”

“By now, I’m sure you’re aware that the restraints aren’t padded, so as you struggle for your last breath and to escape, you will continue to injure and mark yourself which will remove any claim that skank has that this was consensual, thereby negating her defense in this state and making this punishable as murder. Along with the insurance policy that was recently taken out on you with her as the beneficiary and the photos which were emailed to her of you and your latest whore providing jealousy and money as a motive, she’ll go away for a long time.”

As she walked out the door, dressed to kill, she looked over her shoulder and coldly said,  “Happy Valentine’s Day dear.”

*Lisa is an award winning writer whose work is featured in every issue of South Sound Magazine.  She also contributed three sections to the South Sound User Guide and her work has appeared in many international publications. Her work encompasses: technical, spiritual, political, garden, home, cooking, urban farming, sustainability, inspirational, humor and travel writing as well as web page authoring, social media and blogging. See more of her work at wildcelticrose.net*