BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

“No, no.” Panic was clawing at her throat.

“Are you using your safe word?” Someone in the crowd called out the question, clearly concerned for her.

Mae opened her mouth. Banana. All she had to do was say it.

Instead she looked at Xavier. “This is on your checklist?”

He nodded. “I can see the beauty in marking a submissive in this way, if she chooses to bear her submission like this.”

“Is this…like collaring?” It would make sense if this were about permanently showing ownership.

“No, Mae. We are not bound. This branding would mean that you submitted fully to me in this moment. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Her heart was breaking and she couldn’t breathe. Mae folded her arms against her chest, only to cry out when her breasts throbbed.

“On your checklist, did you say you wanted to be branded?” His tone was firm.

“Yes, Master.”

“And now you are presented with that opportunity.”

She whimpered and dropped her head.

Xavier touched her cheek. “This is what safe words were made for.”

Though she heard him, all she could think about was his touch. It was nothing more than his knuckles stroking her face, but it made all the difference. Mae exhaled, a trance-like calm settling over her. He’d warned her both about himself and about her own desires.

This was the turning point. She could walk away, or she could embrace this.

And then, when her time with him was over, Mae would have his mark. She’d have a way to remember what it had felt like to dance in the dark. Even if no one else ever touched her the way he had, she’d remember these feelings—the pride and desire of walking through the club wearing the marks of a flogger, the delicious helplessness of being mastered by a man who found release by marking her flesh, and above all the way he’d looked at her.

“No, Master.”

say your word,

word.” She raised her voice and heard the

his touch was gone, but

is not a challenge. No one here doubts your submission. Least of all

“Thank you, Master.”

muscles flexing. “Use your

her head.

mind, you too have the right to safeword out of this item.” Though Mae couldn’t see the

met, and in his eyes Mae saw a terrible dark

I want to mark her.” Master Xavier’s deep voice made the words poetry.

had narrowed, until all that mattered

structure. “If you want this, attach your cuffs to the chains. I will not bind you. You will do

They were one thin piece of leather, held closed by a buckle. A D ring near the closure was the only hardware that distinguished

with a carabiner clip dangled from each end. Using two hands she got her left wrist clip in with no problem. The right took her longer, and she had to stretch and wedge the clip against the wood in order to press the latch and push the D ring in. Her fingers were shaking by the time she was secured, and

wrapped her fingers around the chains, holding

wooden stage. “Look at me,

held up a branding iron, the tip glowing red. He pushed it down on

that heat searing against her skin was too much. She shook her head, raising her gaze to Master Xavier’s. There was fire in his gaze, a fierce desire to master her body in this way. The desire to submit warred with fear and she dropped her gaze, struggling to

didn’t want this because it would hurt, she wanted it because he wanted to do it to her. Wanted what would come after—the permanent record of what

aware of the sound of water hissing as he dunked the brand into the bucket, though she couldn’t see it happening.

“Spread your legs, Mae.”

to obey. He forced them open, then pressed two fingers into her pussy. The penetration sent spikes

to come for me. I want to feel you shaking with pleasure.” He brushed her hair aside

her whole body bowed back. Knowing that there was a crowd looking on only spurred her arousal. She shamelessly pumped her hips on his hand, grateful to have

pulled back. Mae had a moment to focus, to remember where she was, and

felt the heat a second before something hard pressed

and in satisfaction. She screamed as the heat penetrated her. It was

…But it didn’t burn.