BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

“I still think ‘S’ is the scariest.”

The comment brought Anna’s attention back to the present. It came from a black sub, whose name Anna couldn’t remember, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a glass of water in one hand. She wore a thick collar and leather bra and panty set. “Spanking, speculums, strap-ons.”

“Stop,” Anna begged, holding up a hand to stop the litany. “I need to keep calm.” Thinking about Master Jensen was enough to have her wet and needy.

“Are you scheduled to be here this weekend?” Sarah asked.

“Yes. I’m supposed to be here with Master Jensen.” Anna had spent the last few days of her work week fantasizing about his hands on her body, his breath on her neck, his cock thrusting into her, pounding her until she couldn’t think.

“Oh, that means that—”

The speaker mounted in the ceiling hummed for a second before a robotic voice said, “Sub Anna. Orion Room.”

called soon.” Mae

pilot, obeying the command to go to one of the play rooms. With a nod to the other submissives, Anna rose to her feet and left the safety of the

* * *

the door and exhaled, shutting herself in the dark opulence of the Orion room. There were six rooms around the Constellation Courtyard and Anna had played in several of them, but never this one, which seemed larger than the others. Like all the rooms in this section of the mansion, the Orion room was a study of dark and light. The walls and ceiling were midnight blue and set with tiny lights meant to represent stars. She’d heard

corset and stockings, and then padded over to an empty pool of light. She knelt there, assuming the waiting position Master Jensen preferred. If she’d been paired with a different Dom for this insane “game,” she might already be in trouble—every Dom had different preferences for how a sub should enter the room, how they should wait, and what they should, or shouldn’t, be wearing. Normally the sub would know all this going in, because the play time would have been negotiated, but she was trusting Las Palmas, and had to believe that whoever walked through the door would be skilled and experienced

much nicer on her knees than the concrete in the barn. She focused on her breathing, taking each breath gently and carefully, noting the way the air felt as it passed over her lips and tongue. Normally this would be enough to take her in to sub-space, but she was too nervous. She’d become lazy and comfortable after so many months with Master Jensen. If the overseers had decided to do this a few months from now she would have been safely bonded and no one else would have been able to use her—but now she was alone, and risked not only her body and mind at the hands of

couldn’t yet see. She risked one glance at the wall then dropped her eyes. When the overseers turned what had once been bedrooms into play rooms, they eliminated the closets,

glossy black dress shoes appeared at the edge of the ring of light. Anna caught her breath, holding very still. Not Master Jensen—he wasn’t the dress-shoes type. Anna blinked to dispel the tears that gathered in her eyes. Up until

she refuse to submit? Should she use her safe word, get up and walk out? Anna tensed, unsure what to

the right, he circled her, staying in the shadows so that all she saw were his expensive shoes and the cuffs of

protest, say that she wouldn’t submit for anyone but Master