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Rumours about him were rampant. The only thing people were pretty sure about was the fact he lived in seclusion. She’d heard he had another job and spent some time at the Den, but didn’t call it home. Everything beyond that was wild speculation. He’d either had a sub who’d shattered his soul or he was heartless to begin with and had never allowed anyone close.
All she knew was that she appreciated the way he ran the house. Nothing happened here without Gregorio or Master Damien knowing about it. Some of the playrooms had an exposed wall in case the players wanted to be seen. Other places had doors for privacy, but even then, there were windows so that someone could periodically check on the sub’s safety.
To her knowledge, no one had ever witnessed Master Damien participating in a scene. Maggie knew she wasn’t the only one who’d wanted to play with him.
“Is there a private room available?” David asked.
“First door on the right.”
David wound up the leash again, bringing her in close. “I’d like you to keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded her.
She immediately did as requested, but he continued to regard her. “Yes, Mr Tomlinson,” she said. While she was accustomed to having Master Damien look in on her scenes, being corrected in front of him embarrassed her. She looked at the floor, wishing it would open up so she could disappear.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Master Damien said.
“Thank you,” David replied, answering for both of them.
She felt a tug on her leash. It had the effect of yanking her out of her musings and refocusing her on her submission. She forgot about herself and her feelings as she followed him down the hallway.
Once he had led her to the room and the reality of what they were about to do set in, the first tendrils of nerves rippled through her.
From her numerous visits, the room was familiar. Each of the play spaces had similarities—they were all stocked with cuffs and various spanking implements. But each room also catered to a different form of play. This one had a table that resembled something out of a doctor’s office, but not exactly. There appeared to be a cradle for her head, so that she could safely be situated facedown. In that way, it looked more like something a massage therapist would use.
Like a table in a doctor’s office, it had a small shelf that could be slid back, leaving her bottom hanging suspended. How much pressure she’d be under would depend entirely on how he secured her. There were attachments that could be extended for her heels. She had no idea how he intended to use the piece of furniture, but the numerous possibilities intrigued her as much as they made her anxious.
He closed the door behind them.
She knew the walls had been soundproofed. It could be disconcerting to others to overhear screaming, and when she was the one screaming, she liked having some privacy. Since the Den also served as a studio for exclusive video shoots, keeping down outside noise was important. Despite the extensive efforts, the walls still seemed to softly vibrate from Evan C’s band.
David detached her leash. “Please kneel while I set up the room.” He pointed to a spot on the floor.
The instruction at least was expected, something familiar in the oddness of sceneing with him.
He stood still while she lowered herself in position.
Maggie rarely played with the same man twice. There was something about the thrill of the unknown with a new Dom. The fact she knew David, but in a different context, enhanced her excitement and apprehension.
Since he hadn’t instructed otherwise, she watched him hang the leash from a hook in the wall before placing his bag on the countertop. He unzipped it and pulled out several condoms—he hadn’t been joking when he’d said he wanted to fuck her.
He laid out various sized cuffs, likely some for her wrists and others for her ankles. He pulled out a tawse, a paddle and three different floggers, each crafted from different coloured leather. The strands varied in thickness. Her mouth watered as she wondered which he’d select and if she’d ever get to try them all.
She knew him to be organised, and he never went home for the evening without putting away each pen, pencil and piece of paper. He arranged every item on the counter, with nothing touching. She hoped that precision extended to the way he would deal with her.
