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Mal knelt, obeying the implied command.
She spread her knees until they brushed his ankles, and as she did, the skirt of her short purple dress opened. Though there was lighting in the courtyards, it wasn’t enough for him to see the details of her pussy.
If he wanted to inspect her again, check her as he had during the brief flogging aftercare, he’d have to take her back to the playroom.
Mal rested her hands on her thighs, palms up. She kept her shoulders back, head raised, but gaze down.
He remembered a time when she’d hated kneeling. A time before they’d gone so deep, neither one had known they were drowning.
Benson sat forward, bracing his elbows on his spread knees. “Next we’re going to tackle severe pain.”
A visible shiver wracked her, and he watched her throat work as she swallowed hard.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Be honest.”
“I’m wondering…” She took several deep breaths, then started again. “You cropped my clit, Sir. I’m wondering if you think that wasn’t painful enough, or is it that you don’t want to combine items?”
“Both. And let’s be honest, Mal. Having your clit cropped hurt. It was supposed to. Having your pussy whipped probably wasn’t comfortable either. But both are a form of sexual stimulation.”
He waited, wondering if she’d realize what was about to happen.
“And this will be… Severe pain with no sexual, or kink overtones?”
He should have known she’d figure it out right away. “Yes.”
“Yellow.” She spoke calmly, but her fingers were twisting together.
Benson was pleasantly surprised that Mal had used her slow down word without being prompted.
Maybe they’d both learned something in the time they’d been apart.
He narrowed his focus until everything in the world except Mal faded away.
“Okay, we’ll slow it down. Still in the scene,” he warned her, “but nothing’s going to happen in the next five minutes.”
“I’m not afraid of pain.” Mal’s words were soft. “But the idea of pain just for pain’s sake… I don’t know. I don’t have the words for it.”
He wanted to pull her onto his lap and play with her nipples and clit as they talked. During the best of the good times, they could sit and talk for hours. As they did, his hand would play casually over her breasts and pussy. Her legs stayed spread because she knew better than to deny him access.
“I have the advantage of time. Time to think about each of our items. Not only how to satisfy the requirements in a way that’s appropriate for us, but why each of these items is even on the Las Palmas checklist.”
Mal looked up, watching him as he spoke. He was glad she wasn’t keeping to the submissively lowered gaze posture. They were in a slowdown mode, and it wasn’t the time for high protocol or nitpicky rules. Besides that, Benson didn’t actually give a shit where a sub looked. If he didn’t want his partner to see something, he either hid it from them, or blindfolded them.
However, he also never said that out loud. Telling a submissive that he found the lowered gaze habit stupid would invalidate what he knew was, for many of them, a significant act. An active signal of their submission, and a great body language tell.
“And this one is on there for the hard-core sadists and masochists?” Mal asked.
“Possibly. And the overseers know we both had our hard-core moments.”
There was a heavy silence. Their past was like a ghost waiting to manifest.
“But I think severe pain can also be used in the same way as humiliation,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Humiliation can certainly be a kink in its own right. With me so far?”
“Yes…” Mal looked dubious, and it make him smile.
