BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

“And you, are you wet, Beth?”

“Yes, Master James.”

Beth was in an almost dreamlike state—the warmth of his body was seeping into her bare skin, the pressure of his hands on her skin had a strangely calming effect and she was able to answer his questions with absolute truth without feeling awkward.

She was so lost in the feelings that she gasped when Master James grabbed her hips and spun her around so her back was against his chest. Firm hands grabbed her thighs and forced her legs along the outside of his, opening and exposing her sex.

“Raise your hands, put them on my head.” His voice was rough.

Beth obeyed, but the peace of a moment ago was gone, every muscle tense with dread. She’d forgotten where she was, what she was, and now she’d be punished. Flogging and whipping of her pussy were on her list of hard limits, but experience had taught her that there were plenty of other ways her sex could bear the brunt of a punishment, and each was painful.

“I apologize for my disobedience, Master James.” The words were the appropriate response to bad behavior. She waited for him to say something like “You won’t make that mistake again” or “You need some correction.”

Instead Master James brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, “I don’t ever want to hear those words from you again.”

One hand slid up to her breast, cupping the mound as he flicked the nipple with his thumb. The other settled between her legs, two fingers exploring her labia before slipping inside her pussy.

* * *

James pressed his fingers along either side of her clit, rubbing gently. Beth’s body arched, her fingers tightening in his hair as she gasped in startled pleasure.

the rage that was churning in his gut, focusing on her. Rolling one nipple with his thumb, he pressed his lips to her neck, letting his breath stimulate the sensitive skin

for less than two minutes, but it seemed like she was going to come. Not surprising considering that she’d been denied pleasure for so

thought, he nipped her earlobe, pinched her nipple hard, and rubbed her clit with

a fractured breath and then started to shake, her limbs trying to curl in, as if to protect herself

lips of her sex with all four fingers so he could feel the orgasm.

wanted to curl her up into a ball and hold her, but he kept her spread

over her torso, thighs, and arms, taking possession of her bare flesh with his touch. When her breath returned to normal, he took his hand from her pussy, wiping it against her belly so the smell of her orgasm would

hands away from his scalp so her palms were only a light pressure on his head, still following his command but lightening the

sitting positing,

on his face. He could cheerfully horsewhip Cat—and

core of him or her—was the hardest thing a Dom had to do. It took time, planning and skill, because it went against most emotional and physical protective reflexes people, especially women, had developed by the time they were adults. Usually what happened was a submissive managed to keep some of those walls in place, resulting in a sort of half-submission that was usually fine, especially among casual partners. The trouble came when

what he’d helped Master Xavier and Mae overcome—Xavier had managed to bring out Mae’s real submissive. She’d been begging Xavier for the kind of domination no one would have imagined she would want, but Xavier had his own demons to wrestle with and hadn’t realized how deep Mae’s need went. James had seen what neither of them could after watching the two

was the opposite problem—the perfect, obedient submissive who followed every rule, obeyed every command, and yet

the Dom and sub played a huge role in how intense a scene or relationship could become. But it was

making them sexual objects. Some “slaves” were used in that way, as were men who enjoyed long-term chastity or cuckolding. James was a firm believer in live and let live, though he had no interest in those styles of kink, nor it seemed did Beth,

shining armor instinct he had was on alert after only a few minutes with her, which only made him angrier, because that was the last thing he wanted. Reminding himself once again that she didn’t need to be rescued—she needed to be made to come until she couldn’t

was gathering pieces of the Beth puzzle, and though he still couldn’t see how they fit together, he intended to figure it

the

amusement at that thought helped him put