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Sandra
Sandra stood beside the folding chair on the platform fiddling with the collar of her dress. Maybe she should have gone shopping for something more revealing… something that fit the tone for the evening. A plain cocktail dress didn’t exactly say ‘bend me over and spank me.’
James came into view from the side, and her breath rushed from her lungs. He moved through the room with an armful of items, his chin up and eyes aimed right at her.
She met him at the edge of the platform. “Do you need help?”
“Nope.” He stepped up and went straight to the chair, placing the items down and picking through them. He draped a leash over the back, and a stiff black collar with silver studs on the seat.
Her eyes widened as he placed the last item: a tail.
At the sight of the plug with the attached furry appendage, Sandra closed her eyes. She could do this. New experiences were what she was here for.
Once he had everything laid out, he spun around, his gaze roaming over her. Right. She knew what to do here. Mary had taught her the proper procedure when her Dom wanted to inspect her: hands behind her head, feet spread, chin up, eyes downcast.
“What are you doing?” James asked, stepping up to her.
“Did I get it wrong?” She brought her eyes up to his face.
“Get what wrong? I didn’t ask you to do anything.” He pulled her arms down from her head. “Don’t try to anticipate me. I understand you’ve probably been taught a few things some Dominants may like, but don’t worry about any of that tonight.”
How foolish could she make herself look with one action?
“I’m sorry.” She lowered her gaze again.
He brought his knuckle up under her chin and tilted her head back until she was staring into his dark eyes. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. “You have nothing to be sorry for. All you have to do is what I tell you to—nothing more. If you actually do something you should be sorry for, I’ll let you know.”
“And then what?” She regretted the question, but her thighs were already clenching at the possibilities. Surely a man with such sternness in his eyes would be a strict disciplinarian.
“Do you like punishments?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
So many wrong ways to answer that question.
“I like the idea, but not the actual act.”
He smiled. “But the discipline aspect, it’s appealing to you?”
“At first, it’s what appealed to me about all of this—BDSM, that is. That probably sounds really stupid, but…” Her gaze fell away from his, and heat crept to her cheeks. Her fingers curled inward, because… well, it did sound stupid. And he was probably standing there right now, judging her not only for how naïve and dumb she sounded, but also for what a flawed submissive he’d been saddled with for the night.
“That a submissive wants to be held accountable and punished by her dominant?” He dragged his knuckle down the length of her jaw. “No, not stupid at all.”
The pressure eased in her chest. Maybe she could relax, just take the moments as they came.
“But let’s hope you don’t earn any serious punishments tonight.” He winked, and with that one gesture, the last of her worry vanished. Instead of getting frustrated at her ignorance, he took the time to guide her. He wanted her to follow him, not anticipate and rush ahead of him. Follow him? Yeah, she could do that. Easily.
“Yes. Let’s hope.” She grinned. Hopefully it meant she would still get to have a spanking. The first thing she’d understood about herself was how much she loved the pain spreading through her ass. But she wouldn’t purposely earn a punishment. Bratting wasn’t her style, and she didn’t think he’d like it either.
“We should get you dressed and get started before the DM over there thinks we’re not really here to play.” He ran his hand over her shoulder, then down her arm. “Do you need help out of your dress?”
“No. I can manage.” Of course he’d want her out of the dress. It would be expected. Tony had demanded it of her when they played, and she hadn’t taken any time to overthink it; she just did it. But Tony’s opinion held very little weight with her. Not like with James. James didn’t snap his orders with a crisp arrogance. When he directed her, a warmth ran through her veins—a drastically different reaction than she’d had with Tony.
She could easily get used to James’ brand of dominance.
She clenched her teeth. She couldn’t think that way. He seemed to be a good guy, a patient guy, but he had a line of submissives a mile long waiting to get their hooks into him for a playdate. She wouldn’t be able to offer anything they couldn’t give him.
“Take off the dress and anything else you have on under it. Put everything, along with your shoes, under the chair. Then I want you to kneel beside it.”
With a deep breath, she nodded. “Okay.”
