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“I do,” he says. “It’s one of those things that just works for me. I know it’s not for everyone. I don’t pretend it is. When we’re together, I won’t force you to call me Master, but you won’t use my first name while we’re playing. You may call me Master or Sir.”
“Master Thorn,” I say, testing the name on my lips. “It’s what I called you the other night.”
“And I loved it very much.”
“May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Did you masturbate when you got home that night?”
“You mean, did I rub my cock while I thought about my fingers buried inside your pussy, Lily? Did I touch myself until I was so consumed with lust that I came all over my hands? Is that what you’re asking?”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly completely overcome with arousal. I’m realizing that my decision to come for him in the car was the right one because if we were in this moment and I knew I wasn’t getting an orgasm, the night would be much, much tougher for me.
As it is, he hasn’t even started touching me yet, and already my pussy is clenching in excitement, with desire. I keep staring at his cock, keep thinking of what it’s going to feel like when he’s inside of me.
“I did, Lily. You were very, very sexy. I loved everything we did together at the club, and I would love to go back with you sometime.”
“I’d like that, too,” I whisper.
“Now, to answer your previous question, I do not have a secret sex dungeon in my living room.”
“Oh,” I feel a little disappointed, but I’m not really sure why. I guess I just expected that maybe, somehow, he’d transform the entire place into a really, really dirty room where everything was dark and dangerous and mysterious. I had this visual of chains coming down from the ceiling and myself hanging in the center, ready for the pleasure only Master Thorn could give me.
“Want to tell me what just went through your head?”
“What? Oh, it was nothing.”
“That’s lie number one, darling,” Master Thorn stands and walks across the room to where I’m standing. He fists my hair and pulls my head back before crushing his lips to mine. “Try again, baby,” he says. “And remember that there will be punishments for lying.”
I should be scared.
I should be embarrassed and frightened and upset, but I’m not. Somehow, his words are turning me on, and I don’t really know why.
That’s not true.
I wasn’t lying when I said I did some homework before our date. I’ve been looking at BDSM websites all week and reading as much as possible. I know a lot, but I realize I still have so much to learn.
One thing I do know is that many women find the idea of sexual punishments sexy. Things like spankings and erotic torture aren’t bad when they’re consensual. There’s nothing wrong about knowing what you like sexually and about going after those things.
There’s nothing wrong with me.
And as Master Thorn kisses me, I’m no longer Lily-from-the-daycare. I’m no longer June’s daycare teacher or Megan’s favorite teacher or Carmen’s weekend substitute. Now I’m a sexual goddess, and Master Thorn is awakening the beast inside of me.
“I was thinking that it would be sexy if you chained me up in here,” I whisper against his lips. “But you don’t have chains in the living room. You said you don’t have a dungeon.”
“I don’t need a dungeon to drive you wild, kitten.”
“You have a lot of nicknames for me,” I whisper.
“Do you prefer I call you Lily?”
“No, I like it when you call me kitten. I like that. I like princess, too. It makes me feel special.”
It makes me feel like I’m not just some slut having sex with a guy I just met. I push that thought from my head because I know I’m not a slut. I’m not easy or sleazy, and even if I was, it’s okay. Women aren’t expected to be chaste and virginal anymore. We’re allowed to have desires. There’s nothing wrong or bad or dirty about that.
“There,” he whispers. “Right there. Tell me what you were just thinking.”
