BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Jensen picked up the brush and looked at the beautiful woman bound and waiting before him. Anna was his. He wanted and needed her on a base level. Out there, in the vanilla world, he did his best to act normal, but he wasn’t. Life had stripped him bare, leaving him feeling more animal than human sometimes. BDSM gave him a way to express his base needs without hurting himself or his partner.

In another few months he’d be bonded to Anna, the formal ties between Master and sub cemented in the eyes of their BDSM community. After that neither of them would touch another person sexually without the consent of the other. In a world where monogamy was considered passé, they would be the exception. Maybe someday he wouldn’t feel so raw, and he’d be able to include others in their sexual exploration, but for now it was all he could do to keep from tearing away the expensive suit pants another Dom had loaned him as a disguise and fucking her until neither of them could think.

Picking up the brush, he stroked the fronts of her thighs with the smooth wooden back. He’d gotten a quick and dirty lesson on abrasion play in the Masters’ lounge, and there were Doms on the other side of the glass who could help if he needed it, but for now he’d make do with what he knew, and let Anna’s reactions guide him the rest of the way.

Flipping the brush over, he stroked her thigh with the stiff bristles. She jerked a little.

“Does that hurt?”

“No, Master, it surprised me.”

“The purpose of abrasion is to make your skin sensitive, so that even the lightest touch is both pleasure and pain.”

He carefully undid her garters and pushed her stockings to her knees. He stroked the front of each thigh ten times. Her skin grew pink, and faint lines appeared where some of the stiffer bristles had passed.

He did the same to the insides of her forearms, just below the wrist strap, but when he moved down to the softer skin on the inside of her upper arms she hissed and flinched away.

“Did that hurt?”

“N-no, Master.”

He knew his sub. She was lying, thinking that saying yes would displease him. Jensen went to the bag of toys and slipped the brush in, returning with a strange pink mitt, which he’d been told was a loofa. He fitted it over his hand, feeling the abrasive material against his palm. He started with her upper arms, stroking until the skin was pink. This time she frowned a little, but it was an expression of confusion rather than pain.

Moving down, he rubbed his hand in a circle over her belly, then along the crease at the top of each thigh where it met her torso. She wiggled a little when he did that. Finally he went to her breasts, cupping the upper swell with his free hand to hold the firm mounds in place as he stroked the underside.

When he was done, her eyes were half closed, and she was breathing softly. There were faint pink patches on her pale skin, and he had a moment of remorse. She was so beautiful it should be a crime to mark her. The only thing that had him going to the bag and pulling out the next item was the fact that he could see her sinking into the place she could only reach when he used and abused her far beyond the bounds of what society found acceptable.

She found peace in that place, and that peace passed through her to him.

Jensen took the piece of tweed fabric and wrapped it around his fingers.

* * *

Anna gasped as the rough cloth touched her thigh—it felt like burlap or cheap wool. Master Jensen raised his hand, showing her the fabric he held. It wasn’t burlap, but simple tweed—rough, but not nearly as rough as it felt.

“It feels…” She shook her head, feeling silly.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

like something

switched to the other thigh. The muscles in her leg twitched

“Do you like it?”

not arousing, I don’t think.” Anna laid her head back. It wasn’t a sexual touch, and yet it was sexual. After a moment of contemplation she realized why. “I like that you’re doing this

finishing with her breasts. The undersides were sensitive to begin

“It’s too much, Master.”

into her sex. Anna moaned in relief. This was a

“You’re wet.”

“Yes, Master.”

the bag. When he came back he was holding a simple white

of her body, her nerves lighting up as if he’d

hazel eyes sparkling.

“Yes, Master.”

exposed skin. The difference in sensation when he moved between un-abraded and abraded skin made her gasp and shiver. The anticipation of the pleasure-pain and the inability to control or stop it had her dancing on the edge of a dark,

lifted her breast, while tracing his fingers over the

this,” he whispered.

me, Master.

might have, but we have

regained control of her arms

with

her body as she did so to show off her ass and

down this time,”

turned and obeyed, climbing back up onto St. Andrew’s

her belly and arms supported while her head and breasts dangled in the open space between the upper pieces. He adjusted the lower pieces of the table, bringing them

your knees up. I want

her feet were pressed flat against the leather. He put a square bolster under her belly, which helped support

if your neck

“Yes, Master.”

on your back, but since I have you like

pleases you,

into her pussy.

applied the boar bristle brush in long strokes from her shoulders, down her back, over her ass and along the backs of her thighs. Now that she knew what the result was, she