BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Mae stumbled into the Conclave. The elegant barn was deserted, the board bearing the alphabet letters the overseers had used to explain this horrible game still in the middle of the open space.

She didn’t know how to turn on the lights, so she left the door open. There was enough moonlight from that and the windows to guide her as she pushed open the heavy doors of what had been horse stalls and were now either elegant “cells” for naughty subs, or pens for horse and pony play. She found one that had a twin bed in it. With a sob she threw herself down on the mattress, grateful for whatever person had left soft cotton sheets in place.

She jerked her ruined stockings off, then removed the corset, dropping both carelessly onto the floor. Rolling onto her side she laid her palm over the hot place on her ass. The skin was sensitive to the touch, the residual pain equal to the deepest marks on her breast.

“Mae.”

She rolled, looking at the open stall door where a man stood silhouetted in the faint moonlight. She wasn’t surprised, but she wasn’t happy either. “Go away.”

He disappeared, and Mae blinked back tears. It was totally unfair of her to be disappointed that he’d left when she told him to, but right now she couldn’t manage fair. Her feelings were too jumbled.

Xavier returned, toting two heavy floor candelabras. The massive iron things went with the elegant Spanish style of the mansion, but when he placed them on either side of the room and flicked a lighter, all she cared about was that he’d made it light when she wanted dark.

“Leave me alone, Xavier.” She didn’t call him Master, using it to push him away.

“I won’t.”

“What more could you want from me?”

He dropped to sit on the floor, back against the wall. “I have no right to ask for anything more.”

“That’s right, you don’t.”

want to know why

me. Me.” Mae spread her arms. “I don’t even have a tattoo, because I couldn’t commit to a design. I was going to let you brand me, burn me, with whatever

that why

to lash out at him, to break that calm until he felt what she did. “Yes. And no.” She ground

why?” His eyes bored into her, and despite the walls of anger she’d erected, she

face. But I

feet. She held out her hands. “No. Don’t touch me. I can’t stand it. Can’t stand that you’re

far away from him as she could be. “You make me feel

Xavier’s voice was thick with pain. “There are days the rage inside me is enough to make me want to rip my own skin off. I hate myself for wanting this.” He cast his hand out, seeming to include all of Las Palmas in the

breath, her shaking subsiding as

have no idea how much I wanted to brand you. To mark you.

whispered. Couldn’t he see that she wanted him,

the obedient submissive, to spend your time bound and gagged instead of

opened her mouth to say yes, but then

so.” There was defeat in his

not right, at least not totally. How I’ve played, before—the

Xavier’s gaze sharpened. “Sixteen?”

mom wasn’t around, and my grandma raised me, but her health was bad, and she didn’t really know what to do with me. When I was in high school, I started playing around online. I found these men who were willing to send me things in exchange for

“I’m sorry, Mae.”