High up on the steep Monaco cliff, the last guests were leaving an old, imitation-Tudor house settled discreetly into the hillside. As the alcohol-fuelled chatting and giggling finally died down, and the last few chauffeur-driven cars crunched off the gravel driveway, the inhabitants of the house walked upstairs to their large, elegant bedroom. Dispatching with his tuxedo, and moving into the en-suite bathroom to prepare for bed, Frank called out to Clara: "It was a great party, don't you think?" "Yeah." Came the reply. In the bedroom, Clara stood still, thoughtful, observing the rumble of the sea. "Did I hear you telling Paul you were transferring the funds tomorrow?" "That's right." Frank was now spitting out his toothpaste, and washing his hands in the sink. "I'll make the deposit in person tomorrow when I go in." As Frank wandered back in, Clara considered his greying chest hair. He was still a good-looking man, in good trim, despite being 15 years her senior. He looked faintly ridiculous in his white cotton briefs, but still a man with a certain presence. She turned back to the sea. She could make out a yacht, sailing out of the harbour into the deep blackness. "Is everything ok, my love?" Frank approached the window, turning her towards him for a kiss. "Of course." She was curt in her reply, and brushed past him with minimal contact. Her sullen expression suddenly relaxed into a mischievous smile as she reached the bathroom herself. A moment later, Frank was reading on his bed, in his briefs, as Clara reappeared in the doorway. Wow! Her black, laced corset, pushing her cleavage into prominence, and the tight, frilly panties came as a complete surprise…but not so much as the leather belt she was holding in her hand. "Clara…?" He began, but she pressed a finger to her lips to silence him. He put down his book and moved to stand but she was upon him before he could get upright. "You just stay where you are…" she commanded, a mixture of vixen-like control and playful mischief coming to the fore. He lay back, bemused, smiling but with heart beating fast. This was the first time he had seen Clara in this mode, in their two years of marriage. She was normally shy and introverted, and her low sex drive had often been a cause of friction in the past. Now she wanted to take control! He lay back while she kissed his chest, his face and his arms. She slapped down his attempt to fondle her, so he extended his arms to the side instead. Grabbing a wrist, Clara fastened the belt to it tightly, yes, very tightly and slipped it round the bottom of the bedpost. Quickly moving across, she used his unfurled bow tie to perform the same action to his other wrist. Frank smiled as she did this, watching patiently while she rendered him completely, utterly powerless. She bound his legs next, before kneeling up at the end of the bed and looking him in the eye. The playful vixen was gone. She was now cold and staring. She jumped down, grabbed a leather bag and strode off into the bathroom. Frank's grin faded. What was happening? He could hear the cupboards opening and closing. Clara reappeared. "What's the code for the safe?" "What? What do you mean? What is this?" He struggled against the restraints, realising for the first time just how well they were fixed. "Just give me the code to the safe, you bastard!" Clara looked mean. "You must be mad…what are you…?" "Look," said Clara, impatient now, striding over to his bedside. "Give me the fucking code, or I'll kill you." She spoke slowly and deliberately, right up close. He could almost reach out and bite her. He wrenched forward, but she was too quick for him. She jumped astride him, sat on his chest and put her hands slowly around his neck. "If you kill me, you'll never get the money." Frank regained his calm. She considered this for a moment. "Maybe I'll just kill you anyway." Frank looked at her, and saw the depth of the expression. Had she gone mad. Was this all a joke? Despite himself, he hardened in his briefs. The contact of her thighs against his chest, the faint smell of her and the satin on his skin were working against every rational thought. Clara felt his erection poke her in the ass. Distractedly, she turned round and held it. She thought for a moment. Jumping down from the bed, she quickly pulled his briefs down around his ankles, and held his member firmly in her hand. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this. If she ever had. Slowly, she circled his cock and began pumping up and down, very slowly, very gently, waiting to see his body's response. "What the hell…" Moaned Frank, his body's physical response betraying him totally. "What are you doing?" "Just remember, all you have to do is give me the code, and this is all over." Said Clara, coolly. "You've gone mad," Frank gasped, "you think this is torture?" He swallowed deeply as his breath accelerated. "I've been trying to get you to do this for years, but you've always been too anti-sex." "Ha!" Now Clara was laughing again, her façade broken. "Is that what you think? That I don't like sex?" She sped up her ministrations a little, although still gentle, and placed her face intimately close to Frank's ear. "I love sex. I love to fuck, suck and fuck again." Frank looked bewildered. Her voice was soft and breathy in his ear. "While you've been working, I've been wandering around this huge house horny as hell. I've been playing with myself all day, waiting for you to earn enough money to get me out of here." She moved down to his cock, and took it all in her mouth in one go. Frank gasped, as she licked and teased the tip expertly, her hand improving the friction around his tender bell. She had changed…this was a side of her he'd never seen. This was more than just an elaborate joke. There was no way she was as shy and retiring as he'd been led to believe. "I've been desperate for cock ever since we moved in together." She began again, moving back to his ear to keep the message on an intimate plane. "I've fucked the pool boy a hundred times. I've sucked his cock dry while rubbing my clit, I've had him throw me down on the bed and pound me from behind, pushing back into him to get every last centimetre in me. I'm insatiable." Frank was, despite himself, beginning to feel a quickening in his shaft. She continued to work him gently, and still quite slowly, but he felt his balls tighten and a load come up from deep within. Then Clara stopped. She was a real expert. She felt his moment approaching, and stopped to allow it to subside. She continued her filthy rant, though. "I've fucked the gardener, too!" She cackled with mischief. "In this very bed. He went down on me, licked my pussy and tickled my clitoris, while I played with my tits. When I was gushing with wetness, I pulled him up by the hair and he thrust his cock deep into me. Oh! What a feeling. I can't get enough of that big, hard, cock." She began to work him again, this time with her mouth as well, teasing and licking, nibbling and sucking greedily. As he felt ready to burst, he opened his mouth and….she stopped again. "Aaaarghh!" He shouted. "For fuck's sake! Let me come or let me go! Now!" Clara stood, laughing. It didn't matter how loud he shouted. There was no-one nearby who could come to his rescue. She could do this all night. She would break him and get that code. It was just a matter of time. As she began her evil sex-talk again, pumping him as slowly as she could, a little bird flew onto the bathroom windowsill, looking in through the open window for anything of interest. There was no food there for it, though. Just a normal, ordinary bathroom, with a cupboard and a safe, the door of which was wide open, and the contents there in plain sight.