BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

“Why are you saying it the way people normally say ‘dead baby seals’?”

“I hate role play. I’m terrible at role play.” Beth’s most traumatic high school experience had been when her best friend had cajoled her into being part of the school musical. She had a hard enough time figuring out what she was feeling, let alone pretending to be someone else and then trying to show others what the pretend person was feeling.

“Okay, Miss Literal. It’s not role play.” The corner of his lips twitched in a smile.

Beth had a white-knuckle grip on the bottle of glass cleaner. James frowned, realizing that she was not teasing, as funny as her fear might sound to others.

“Beth.” Now his voice was sharp with command. “Put all the spray bottles in the bucket. Take out the feather duster.”

Beth grabbed the feather duster, which was made of actual black and white feathers and had a short, thick wooden handle.

“Go dust the front of the wardrobe.”

Feeling better at having simple, direct orders to follow, Beth went to the tall dark-wood piece and ran the duster over the doors.

“I don’t think this is very effective.” There wasn’t any dust on the furniture—Las Palmas had a discreet cleaning service come in during the week, and two full-time people who lived on site and maintained the playrooms daily—but if there had been dust she was fairly certain the feathers would just move it around.

“Dust the top.”

Beth rose on tiptoe, one hand on the doors, the other stretched up. For a large man, he was surprisingly silent as he came up behind her. When Master James grabbed her bare ass, Beth nearly lost her balance.

“I didn’t say you could stop.” He growled the words when she lowered her outstretched arm.

Beth went back up on her toes, struggling to maintain the position as he massaged her ass. When his lips brushed her ear, Beth shivered. The corset not only restricted her movement, but made her intensely aware of how naked her lower half was.

“The table over there needs to be cleaned.”

He turned her by the hips, pointing her to the small side table positioned near the chair he’d been sitting in. The corset caused her hips to sway more than normal, but this time she played it up, sure from the weight of his gaze that he was watching her ass as she walked away.

It was an incredibly powerful feeling. She was the one in the binding corset, obeying his orders—yet she felt strong and in control.

She flicked the feather duster along the top of the perfectly clean table, heart thumping in her chest as she waited for him to make his next move. Master James resumed his seat.

“You missed a spot.”

“I did?”

in front of me and you’ll see

herself in front of him, her legs only a few inches from his knees. Again

dust on the shelf. Clean

the table, set with a lovely impressionist ceramic sculpture of a

hand on the tabletop she bent from the hips, not

so her chest was flat on the table. Master James grabbed the

a confession.” He ran the soft feathers up her arm to her shoulder, then used them to push her hair

dusting.” He held it where she could

was about as long as her hand, from wrist to the tip of her fingers, and as wide around as a

guess where

arousal that made it hard to think let alone talk, Beth didn’t

it, then going to

holding her down, he brushed her butt and legs with the

it in your

her inner thighs, then tapped

some more chores, like get me lunch and a drink, all with a

was panting with desire, the picture painted by

cool wood slid between the lips of her sex, the tip

fuck you. Or maybe you need to go over my knee

pressed into her, her desire-tightened body greedily clenching

for this morning, but really

duster in earnest. Beth clung to the table, wanting to thrust back, but he was holding her in place, giving her

her pussy lips, gathering her body’s own moisture and spreading it on her anus. He

taper was not as gradual as last night’s plug, and as he

me if I’m hurting

were twinges of pain but they were the good kind, the kind that let her know she

“Good.”

his satisfaction, Master James let her