Natalie Acres by Sex Slave [Cowboy Sex 7]

want you to feel confident in that safety so feel free to decline any of the mentioned props or all of them. You’re in control here.”
    “I feel that,” she admitted, realizing as soon as she’d said as much her voiced opinion might be viewed as defiance. Still, she didn’t want them to think she was afraid. Fear was a weakness, particularly in these settings.
    So far, this entire experience had left her with some apprehensions, but if she had to pick one adjective to describe how she’d felt since she’d entered the mansion on the hillside, she could easily define her feelings. She was empowered and with that empowerment came a level of confidence she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
    “Are you ready, Miss Cartwell?”
    “Yes.”
    “Let’s begin.”
     
    * * * *
     
    “Holy hell.” Sebastian released a guttural growl and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
    Wyatt’s mouth dried as he processed.
    All heads turned upward as a collective gasp fell across the crowd.
    “Remind me to punish her for this,” Sebastian said.
    “You’ll have to beat me to it,” Wyatt promised, glaring at the auctioneer.
    Jaelon stood at the edge of the runway, making his presence there known. He flashed Wyatt and Sebastian a smile.
    “If that rope snaps, I’ll fire him on the spot.”
    “You should fire him for letting her agree to suspension bondage,” Wyatt pointed out.
    “Who would’ve thought she would do something like this!”
    The auctioneer tapped the microphone. “Gentlemen, meet Kimberly Cartwell.”
    The cables snapped and Kimberly went flying through the air. Her flight was graceful, elegant, and certain to command attention, not to mention high bids for her time.
    “What the hell was she thinking?”
    Wyatt jerked. “She wants to show her willingness to explore placement in vulnerable situations.”
    “Point taken,” Sebastian grumbled, acting as if he might leap from his seat and rush the stage.
    As Kimberly’s stats were given, the auctioneer’s voice seemingly faded away. Wyatt watched Kimberly fly across the limited area hovering over the runway. In full suspension, Kimberly’s weight was supported by cables as the men on either side of the stage maneuvered her body across the crowd.
    Hogtied in a horizontal teardrop suspension, Kimberly’s limbs were secured behind her back, forcing her voluptuous chest forward and exposing her crotch area.
    “She did this for spite,” Wyatt pointed out.
    “What did you do to piss her off?”
    “Who would know,” Wyatt said.
    Those in control of the overhead suspension points pulled her from one side to another. She was lowered over each potential bidder. One gentleman after another appraised her body, many of them nearly foaming at the mouth as they witnessed the eagerness of one woman’s willingness to submit.
    “What is she?” Sebastian asked.
    “An angel,” Wyatt suggested as her body inched closer to the air space above his head.
    Every muscle in his body tightened as she came closer. Hard-core fantasies left him snagging ideas and placing them in his memory for safekeeping.
    “Dear Lord, do you see that?” Sebastian asked, his tone strewn with lust of a different sort, a wantonness he apparently didn’t mind to voice. His expression changed as soon as her body passed over their heads.
    “Gentlemen, all of you have had time to view our lovely participant this evening. As you can see, she is receptive to all forms of bondage and submission. We’ve never had a participant project such willingness in any of our auctions.”
    The crowd cheered. Several men gave her a standing ovation.
    The auctioneer continued, “When Miss Cartwell arrived this evening, she wore—”
    As the auctioneer described Kimberly’s earlier attire, something out of the ordinary happened. Wyatt’s body went rigid. He tightly clenched his fists. “I’m jealous as hell.”
    “Yeah, I hear ya,” Sebastian said, apparently unable to look away from her.
    Silver clamps encased