BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Beth took a step toward him, only to be pulled up short by the chains. She wanted to touch him, to reassure him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t told anyone that story before, though plenty of people at Las Palmas know about what happened.”

“That’s why collar is on your hard limits list?”

“Yes. I’m one of the reasons Las Palmas has an alternative. There’s too much potential emotional baggage with a collar.”

Beth nodded. Partners or groups who wanted to be formally recognized as being in an exclusive relationship within the club had to be bonded. Often that meant collaring too, but bonding was actually a formal arrangement between the parties.

There were things she wanted to say, should say—that she was sorry for asking him to collar her, that if she’d known she wouldn’t have asked, that she’d never been happier as a submissive than she was with him.

But the words wouldn’t come, stuck behind a wall of awkwardness Beth would never lose, so instead she responded in a way she hoped he’d understand. Turning, she bent, resuming her position, waiting for him to continue caning her.

He didn’t react, and Beth’s stomach clenched with embarrassment and regret. Just as she was about to stand up, his hands cupped her hips. He stepped up behind her, and even through his pants she could feel the heat of his cock against her ass.

“Beth.” Her name was a plea, a pledge, on his lips.

“Yes, Master?”

He moved away, and she wasn’t surprised when she heard a faint whistle, followed by a line of fiery pain as he struck her for a third time.

This time she whimpered. “Thank you, Master.”

“Don’t. You don’t have to say that.”

“But I mean it.”

“Why?”

fuck me while you choke me and we’re both going to come. Then we’ll do something else, and we’ll come some more and I won’t have to worry about whether I’m pleasing you, or being a good submissive. That’s all I want, and everything I

cane struck again, this blow harder than all the others, and Beth screamed, throwing her head back, tears in her eyes, but the trembling that wracked her wasn’t just from pain. Then he was there, his big body huddled around hers, his

from the caning, arousal because he’d caned her, anticipation from his naked skin against hers, delicious

to the entrance to her sex. Fingers tightened around her throat as he thrust in. Beth sucked in air—she could still breathe, but she couldn’t ignore or dismiss his hold on her, his control

clenched in pleasure as his cock filled her. He was long and hard,

her by the neck, he used his other hand to jerk down the bustier until her breasts sprung free. Fingers closed over her

a whisper, but he growled in apparent pleasure and started fucking

sensations—pain and pleasure chief among them. It took her a moment to realize she was fighting him, not physically, but emotionally, so focused on sorting out what she was feeling and what was happening that she hadn’t given

to do was trust him, give

that—letting go of her anger at him, at herself.

he understood. Maybe he did. He knew her in

to

to know. When he pinched her right nipple hard, twisting the bud to the point of delicious pain, she tipped over that glittering

James groaned, jackhammering into her fluttering

we were done,

opened one eye, looking up at Master James. He’d carried her to a mat in

done with our checklist.”

want

“No.”

I can put a

“Yes, Master.”

* * *

“What are you feeling?”

the fingers dancing along her naked back

“My ass hurts.”

give you

on top

object?” There was a hint of steel

as she lay on James’s lap, both of them seated on an