BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Her breath hitched in her chest and her blood pounded as the scarf pressed in. As soon as she realized the pressure was there, it was gone again. She faltered for a moment, but Master Jensen squeezed her ass, eliciting a yelp.

“Focus, Anna,” he admonished her.

“Yes, Master.”

She went back to fucking herself on him, using the slow, grinding rhythm she knew would drive him wild.

Again the scarf tightened, restricting her breath for just a moment longer than the first time. She looked at her master, her lips parted to take the breath he held captive. Their gazes locked as he tightened the pressure for the third time, this time holding it long enough that her chest heaved.

A spike of pleasure shot through her. Anna’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What?” he asked, seeing her reaction.

“That felt…that felt good.”

He nodded once. “It’s restricting the oxygen flow to your brain. Carbon dioxide is accumulating and that’s what’s making it feel good’. It’s like being at a high altitude.”

She listened vaguely, glad he knew the physiology, but not wanting to think about it too much, in case it distracted her from the pleasure.

She could feel his fists on her back, knew he held the ends of the scarf there. It both thrilled and terrified her that he controlled her so completely.

“Faster,” he growled, and Anna increased the speed of her hips.

He stole another breath from her, holding it long enough that her body spasmed, reacting to the denial with an illogical pleasure. Giddiness swept through her.

“Faster,” he demanded again.

and fucked him hard and fast. Her ass slapped his thighs and the resulting pain

pulled the scarf

“Come, Anna,” he demanded.

was owned, controlled, pleasured and worshiped. She trusted him completely. He mastered her, body and soul, and she owned him in returned. The scarf went slack and his hands grabbed her hips, holding her still as he jackhammered

collapsed against his chest, the scarf still snug around

***

on the arm of the chair until the wood creaked. His palms tingled with the need to touch the

that made her seem younger. Tonight she wore a short Asian-style robe. It had fallen on one side, leaving her breast exposed. Her nipple was a lovely shade of rose, the tip hardened into a sweet little bud. A wide pink sash around her waist emphasized the curves of her hips.

her and cane her ass and

and reined in his impulses. This was exactly why he couldn’t be paired with Mae. Hours of arguing with Mistress Faith and he hadn’t gotten anywhere. He’d been tempted to walk away, forfeiting his membership, but Faith had convinced him to at least meet with the sub, and trust that the rules of the game, and the rules of

proceed. Mae would refuse and he would be free to find another sub to play with for the limited amount of time he had here. Though technically if Mae walked away, she’d be in violation of this ridiculous checklist game, Xavier had made Faith agree not to kick the submissive out if she did indeed run from

She knew he needed his time here to fight back the darkness inside him. Forcing him to waste a night like this

she had any idea how truly torturous this was, because though he and Mae were as different as silk and steel, there was

away. When she shifted her weight and clasped her hands together, Xavier decided it was probably time to show her exactly what was going on. Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he rose and

* * *

over to face him, she could see the power and impact of what they’d done in the tense lines of his face. She kissed and stroked him, her touches not meant to arouse but to calm. He laid his head on her

not sexy scars,”

he knew how much it revealed about his

survived,”

for her, taking her into the hospital, where she’d gotten her first look at the boy she loved. But it hadn’t been a boy who lay there, it had been a man, his body wrapped in gauze, forty percent of him burned, the result of a

even tried to date—but it hadn’t worked. She found the men she met at the firm or at posh cocktail parties weak and insipid. She’d longed for her former boyfriend’s strong hands—and she’d hated herself for choosing a career over a future. Though only in her mid-twenties, she’d started to

He’d invited her out for

Leo. He’d tutored and guided her

in a good hospital, she’d unloaded on her boss, admitting that he was the reason she craved such strong men, and that it was killing her to see him so badly hurt. Seeing her beloved again, and seeing him in such pain, had made the outlet Las Palmas