BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

James tugged Beth towards him, then slipped her legs over his left knee so she was entirely on his lap. Beth put her hands on her legs, then dropped them to her sides, but that caused her to brush her fingers against his crotch. She jerked her hands up, folding them under her breasts, but that was a closed, defensive posture—inappropriate for a submissive.

Feeling frantic, she unfolded her arms, running out of ideas, when James caught her hands in his, forcing them against her legs.

“Beth, it’s clear you’re uncomfortable sitting on my lap. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t know the position.”

“What position?”

“The appropriate position for lap sitting.”

“There’s isn’t one.”

Beth frowned. She knew that wasn’t right. “There’s a rule for every situation, an appropriate pose, response, or action for every possibility.”

“That is…the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Beth jerked her head around to face Master James’s bemused face.

“That’s—but that’s… BDSM is all about rules.” Beth was practically stuttering.

“No, BDSM is about power, control, and kinky sex. The rules are part of the game, not the foundation of it.”

Beth shook her head, so caught up in what he’d just said that she didn’t consider how disrespectful it was. “Training and knowing the rules are what make a good submissive.”

“The desire to submit and willingness to give up control make a good submissive.”

“No. I don’t like that.” The words were out before she could stop them. Saying what she thought, and telling the truth, were her greatest weaknesses when it came to dealing with other people, and her greatest strengths when it came to her career.

“Why not?” Master James didn’t seem angered by her response, which was unexpected, despite the fact that he’d invited her to speak freely. Usually “speak freely” was code for “I want to trap you so I can punish you.”

“The rules are why I’m here.”

He leaned his head back and the hand on her back started rubbing in small circles. “You want there to be rules—a set of rules that, as long as you follow, you know you’re being a good sub?”

“Yes. BDSM is subculture that values hierarchy and defined roles, which presuppose a set of rules which all culture members have agreed to abide by.”

His eyebrows rose and his lips twitched. “Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

Beth looked down, her stomach churning. She’d said the wrong thing, said something awkward, and now he was laughing at her. This was why she hated conversations.

Silence, which normally she was fine with, stretched between them, each second making her more aware of what a mess she’d made of the conversation the minute she forgot to behave like a sub. Embarrassment prickled along her skin like an itchy shirt. Yet his hand was still rubbing small circles on her back

not have used the word stupid. That wasn’t right. We don’t know much about each other, though I’ve seen you

that held her still easing with his

“You need them?”

on her hands, which were held in place against her legs by his big hand. Though she was naked and he was fully clothed, she did not feel as if the nakedness was as important as it usually was. It was as if everything

know what to

Dom’s job, and privilege, to guide a submissive, to make sure she knows what she needs to do or

savored the

on hers lifted, touching her chin. The pressure of his fingers guided her to look at him.

“Look at me, Beth.”

James,” she pointed

I mean I want you

James’s eyes were hazel—green and brown and gold, all mixed together. Between one breath and the next her nakedness became much more important. Her nipples tightened and she felt herself growing wet. Embarrassment almost made her look away, but she couldn’t—she didn’t know if it

be

“No, Master James.”

want to sit

other subs.

things

“Yes.”

you do them with

“No.”

“Why not?”

that kind of

want to

Beth shook her head.

want

Master James was thinking, what this conversation meant to him, and it made her

Madame

eyes, blinking

find that kind of service

compose herself before answering. “Being furniture is not meant to be directly arousing or pleasurable.” She was

a

“No, Master James.”

kind of service the only

didn’t want to admit that she didn’t really understand subspace, which seemed to be an emotional state that she had yet to figure out how to reach. She shrugged helplessly, knowing she needed to answer with words, but unable to do so. Bracing for correction at her failure to answer, she was taken by surprise with his next

were you

Madame Cat enjoys having a sub

I think I

did, because this whole conversation

you’ve watched