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Chapter Twenty-Nine:
The Checklist
Sitting across fromSterling with a checklist felt extremely formal, even if the subject matter was anything but.
I’d never seen how thorough a BDSM checklist was before, and although I’d never seen some of the words, Sterling was patient and professional as he explained them all to me. We covered pet names and honorifics, expectations and orientations and that we both prefer monogamy to polyamory. A color system that would allow us to check in with each other without pulling ourselves out of the moment — green for all good, yellow for pause and maybe change direction, red for stop. Each kink had a place for us to rate it — a limit if it was something we never wanted to do, a maybe if we thought we’d like to try it under certain circumstances or with extensive communication first, curious if we were just that. A simple okay meant we liked it or were fine with trying it, and the highest was aptly named “do it.”
I wasn’t surprised that he had more of those than I did.
I watched him grow calmer the longer we spoke, and I knew how important this was to him, which in turn made it very important to me. “Do we swap them and just ... compare? I’m open to most things on here, even if I’m hesitant,” I said nervously, once again afraid I couldn’t compare to the women at the club.
“Ideally, we’d have swapped and taken a day or so to look over them, but yes. Given that we don’t have much time today, here.” He slid his over and I blinked at how neat his handwriting was. “But like you said, I’m open to anything I don’t have marked as a limit for me. There are truly only a couple of things that I absolutely require, and even those ...”
I could tell in that moment, he wanted me badly enough to throw the entire list out the window, and I felt myself relax. “Okay, let’s talk about the ones you require first, Sterling. I want to be what you need.”
Before glancing at my list, he reached over and circled three — following orders, kneeling, and spanking. “You accidentally covered one of them already,” he said, smiling lightly.
The one about following orders stuck out in my brain. I was hesitant, and for Sterling, it was a necessity. I needed to know more. “I saw what kneeling did for you. It felt really good for me too, Sir, even if it wasn’t on purpose.” I blushed slightly as I truly tried his honorific for the first time. “Would you like me to kneel for you every evening after you get home?”
He let out a long, slow breath, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “It doesn’t need to be every night. If you’re tired or not in the mood, I won’t think twice about it if I come home to find you somewhere else. I want to make that exceedingly clear here, Zeppelin — just because something is a requirement for me doesn’t mean it has to happen every day or every time we play. It’s just something that I need at least sometimes. Does that make sense?”
I nodded, the contact from his hand grounding me. “Okay, I get it now. So same with spankings. I like them even though my experience with them is slim to none, and I’d love to explore that more with you.”
“Yes. Those I’ve typically used more for punishment, but I’m not against finding a different way to punish you if you’d prefer to keep spanking pleasure-related.”
I nodded, nervous to get to the thing we differed most with. “Now to following orders. Can we go a little deeper into that? Is that all the time, just while we play?”
“Miss Bryce, do you think there’s any chance in hell I think you’d follow orders all the time?” he asked, smirking beautifully. “I’m not an idiot. And I also think it would be best if I explain why I want it before we go into how often. Is that alright?”
I was glad he knew me well enough to know I’d struggle there, but there was still a strong urge to please him that I didn’t understand. “Yeah, of course. I want to understand everything.”
“I don’t ever want you to submit to me like that unless you mean it. For me, it’s not about power or domination or anything like that.” Sterling frowned slightly, eyes unfocused as he leaned back in his chair to find the words. “It’s ... a certainty, a constant. Something predictable and beautiful and precise. Say you end a long day of work where you had to focus and make decisions. Whether it’s here or somewhere else, doesn’t matter, just ... tell me how you normally feel.”
I gave his question some genuine thought before responding. “Overwhelmed ... and drained? Like quitting would be easier than the thought of facing another day like that again.”
“I feel the same. I think most people do, honestly. For me, having a partner willing to submit to me and follow orders without question is two-fold. I take the pressure off of you to make any more decisions for the night. To be wild, to be active or creative or any of the other things people think they have to be during sex in order to be considered good at it. All I’d need you to do is exactly as I say, and I’d take care of you. I’d make you forget work. Forget the things overwhelming you, the things draining you. I’d guide you, help you. The better you listen, the better I can make you feel.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds fucking fantastic. You said it’s two-fold, though. What’s in it for you?”
He glanced down at my checklist. “The same thing, really. Knowing I’m taking that off your shoulders, that you’re trusting me with all of you like that ... it’s the one thing I know I won’t fuck up. The one thing I don’t make mistakes with, because we’d be in constant communication. The moment things start to go sideways, you’d tell me. That doesn’t happen outside of the bedroom, do you understand? If I don’t read my clients exactly right, I could lose a bid or fuck up a pitch that will cost me and my company millions or land me in jail because of people like Caffrey Brannigan. If I don’t handle some of Ollie’s more dangerous issues perfectly, one of us could be dead before I know I mis-stepped. But this? It’s something I know will go well, something I have complete control over. It helps me forget the things in life that I don’t really have any control over at all.”
I brought his hand to my lips for a soft kiss. “I want that for us both. The way you described it ... I never knew that was possible. I trust you, Sir. With all of me.”
“You don’t have to say that yet, sweetheart. You may think you do, but I still have a ways to go before you’ll trust me without question and that’s okay. This isn’t something that happens overnight, but we’ll get there. And to your question about how often I need it ... you’ll know. I think you can already decipher my moods better than most, so you’re off to a good start. Most of the time, I still want you to be you. Fiery, sassy, coming into my room in the middle of the night. It’ll be fun to guess whether you’re there to ride me or to beat me to death with a Croc.”
I couldn’t fight my smile. “Might be both, depending on how grouchy you are when you come home. Thank you for talking all this out with me. Are there any others we should discuss further?”
“Well, what about you? Were there any on this list — or not on this list — that you want to talk about? Maybe that you really want to try or the opposite?” he asked, looking lighter and more focused than I’d seen him in months. “I’m at least flexible on most except the ones I’ve marked limits.”
I blushed, staring down at the checklist with my bottom lip between my teeth. “Knife and edge play. I put curious and you said limit. What exactly is edge play?”
“There’s a term in the BDSM community: SSC. It stands for safe, sane and consensual, which is what absolutely everything we partake in should be. Edge play is sort of what it sounds like — it’s anything that toes that edge. Knife play is generally grouped in there because one wrong move can take it from SSC to something that violates one or more of those rules. It’s listed as a limit for me, at least right now, because I don’t have the proper training. You’ll notice down the line that anything like that is listed as a limit for me, like electrical play and whipping,” he explained. “There are so many ways those types of things can go wrong that I’m not willing to try until I receive proper training. If you’re serious about wanting to try or experience any of those things, I’m open to talking to some of my contacts about getting trained.”
His professional side was showing, and gods was it sexy. “Understood. And pussy whipping? You have maybe. Is that different from just slapping my pussy with your hand? Is it specifically with a whip?”
“A whip, a riding crop, a flogger, yes. I do have some experience with that, which is why it wasn’t listed as a limit.”
“Could we start with your hand first to try? I think I’d like it, but I’m nervous to try actual ... weapons? Is that what I’m supposed to call them or are those considered toys?” I saw nothing but understanding in his eyes before he responded.
