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.”

have to say your word,

using my safe word.” She raised her voice and

bit at her once his touch was gone, but she

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

“Thank you, Master.”

muscles flexing. “Use

her head. “No,

right to safeword out of this item.” Though Mae couldn’t see the speaker, she recognized Mistress Faith’s

his eyes Mae saw a

want to brand her. I want to mark her.” Master Xavier’s deep voice made the words poetry. “I want to taste her pain and submission and the pleasure

murmurs from the crowd, but she didn’t care. Her whole world had narrowed, until all that mattered was his green eyes, staring at her from behind the mask that hid nothing of his

T-shaped wood 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

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

her fingers around the chains,

on the wooden stage.

head, she watched as Xavier held up a branding iron, the tip glowing red. He pushed it down on the stage and the wood hissed and sizzled. When he lifted the brand, an “X” was

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.

would hurt, she wanted it because he wanted to do it to her. Wanted what would come after—the permanent record of

though she couldn’t see it happening. When

“Spread your legs, Mae.”

was shaking too much to obey. He forced them open, then pressed two fingers into her pussy. The penetration sent spikes of pleasure through her. She focused on that—the feel of his fingers inside

want to feel you shaking with pleasure.” He brushed her hair

that there was a crowd looking on only spurred her arousal. She shamelessly pumped her hips on his hand, grateful to have this to focus

was still shuddering through her when he pulled back. Mae had a moment to focus, to remember

before something hard pressed against her right butt cheek

screamed in terror and in satisfaction. She screamed as the heat penetrated her.

…But it didn’t burn.