BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Mae kept her gaze on Master Xavier’s shoulders as they passed through the halls and courtyards of Las Palmas. The surprised glances she’d endured this morning when the other members saw her marked ass and unusual attire—or lack thereof—was nothing compared to the looks they were getting now.

People actually stopped and stared when they saw Xavier coming with Mae one step behind him, naked except for the thick collar and breast binding.

The library was one of the public rooms of Las Palmas. It was always open, and anyone was welcome to spend time there. Dominants, Masters, and Owners could book the small circular stage for demonstrations or to use when putting their sub on display. There were bookcases along one wall, but instead of books, the lighted shelves displayed various BDSM equipment, some new, some antique. There was an L-shaped bar in one corner, with usually a submissive or two behind it playing bartender. Cocktail tables clustered near it were made of massive wine barrels supporting round glass tops. On the far side of the stage from the bar was a Spanish-style tiled fireplace. Plush rugs and floor cushions were folded and stacked in baskets on either side of the hearth, while several comfortable couches formed a half circle facing the empty fireplace. The tufted dark-leather couches with rounded backs and arms were all the perfect height to have someone bent over them.

The dining room was next door, and when they entered the library there were a few people at the pub tables with plates of food catered by a local restaurant. The occupants were an eclectic mix of people—ranging both in age and how they liked their BDSM. An African American Domme had her feet propped on the back of her submissive, who was on her hands and knees. Beside her an older Master sat with his sub cuddled against his side.

Before now Mae would no more have knelt to be used as a foot rest than she would have jumped off the roof. She didn’t judge people who chose that kind of submission, but she didn’t want it for herself. But now she found herself looking at the kneeling woman with greater understanding. She didn’t want to do it, but she understood it.

Xavier put a hand on her back and guided her over to the bar area. One of the tables had been taken apart, the wine barrel turned on its side and placed on braces. With the stabilizing pieces under it, the top of the barrel was at waist height.

Mae was experiencing a strange foreboding. Xavier stopped beside the barrel and patted the top. Mae laced her fingers together, looking nervously between him and the people at the nearby table, who were watching with obvious interest.

“No, Red. Look at me.”

She jerked her attention back to Xavier.

“Sit up on the barrel.”

She kept her gaze down, though she couldn’t lower her chin very much, as she backed up against the barrel and with a little jump sat on the curved top. Nerves were making her breathe hard, which made her more aware of the binding around her breasts, which in turn made her wet.

“Spread your legs, Mae.”

in a private room with him. Though she had no problem being naked and played with in public, and had been up on the library stage several times as part of

tingle. Mae spread her legs, tucking her heels along the edges of the barrel. Her desire to be fucked melted away in the heat of a different

her hair. “I’m going to bind you to this barrel. Your pussy will be exposed and available for anyone who chooses to service you.

combined arousal and horror that

hard limits or checklist prevents that. You have your safe word, if you need it.” Xavier laid his hand on her thigh, fingers inches from her sex. “However, you

enough to say what she was thinking. She’d already made a fool of herself once this morning. He’d told her that he expected her to be good,

once. “Lie

that she was on her back draped over the barrel.

your knees, spread your legs. I want everyone to have

edges of the barrel. After a few other adjustments he

you in place. I am not going

remembering that from the

one can count for light bondage. We’ll get to the heavy stuff,

“Yes, Master.”

a handful of pale blue, flat rope. “This is nylon strapping. It’s the same weight and density of what’s used in shipping tie downs.” He took a small section and wrapped it around her already linked hands and wrists, leaving the

with her Mae wouldn’t be moving, wouldn’t be able to get away.

you afraid