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.

shoulders, threw her head back and fucked him hard and fast. Her ass slapped

pulled the scarf tight

“Come, Anna,” he demanded.

The split second of oxygen deprivation tricked her body into a heightened state of pleasure. Her chest heaved, she could feel her pulse fluttering in her neck. She was owned, controlled, pleasured and worshiped. She trusted him completely. He mastered her, body

his chest, the scarf still snug around

***

until the wood creaked. His palms tingled with the need to touch the beautiful creature who’d

she was dressed in the photo 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 legs were bare and she

the clothes from her and cane her ass and breasts until she begged

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 BDSM,

needed to proceed. Mae would refuse and he would be free to find another sub to play with for the limited amount of time

him through this. She knew he needed his time here to fight back the darkness

torturous this was, because though he and Mae were as different as silk and

more the expression faded. Good. He wanted her scared enough to walk away. When she shifted her weight and clasped

* * *

protecting her. When she rolled 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 breast,

sexy scars,”

before. She doubted he knew

you survived,” she replied

gotten her first look at the boy she loved. But it hadn’t been a boy

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

those dark feelings by a senior partner in her firm, Ramon Leo. He’d noticed her disdain for the men in their circle of acquaintances. He’d invited her

guest. Senior partner Ramon Leo turned in to Master Leo. He’d tutored and guided her as she explored her submissive side. When

good hospital, she’d unloaded on her boss, admitting that he was the reason she craved such strong men,