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Rip shrugged. “No particular training you need, as far as I know, but I guess back in the Marines—”
“You were in the Marines. That’s perfect. All we need is for the two of you to practice the duel scene for us. Don’t worry about acting or anything, it’s just to get the angles down. One thing — Rip, you’re gonna need to army-roll on the floor a few times when Mabel shoots you.”
Rip grunted. “She wouldn’t hit me.”
Mabel smiled. “I’m happy to shoot him down. Although someone should really get in touch with Brandon. He needs to sort this mess out.” When she said the word “mess”, she looked right at Rip.
“Fine by me,” said Rip, not wanting to be outdone.
“Good,” said the man with the clipboard.
“Good,” said the woman with the clipboard.
“Good,” said Mabel. “I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER 4
What the hell was happening? Two weeks ago, Rip had turned up to work as Weapons Master on a Hollywood movie. Now, he was being belittled by a goblin in a swimsuit, and playing the part of stuntman while he dueled with her.
Normally, Rip would be at lunch with the other actors. Not that anyone talked to him much, but it seemed polite to sit together. That’s how it had worked in the military, after all. Train together, chow together, fight together.
Today, though, Mabel was eating lunch with the actors. And there was no way he was going to sit with her. No point being polite to someone that treated you like the crud on the bottom of their shoe.
It wasn’t that Rip felt humiliated by her. More that he didn’t trust himself around her. As a natural Dom, he hated it when people tried to boss him around. It made his blood boil like nothing else. And whenshedid it… he almost didn’t trust himself.
Rip had never had any interest in Littles before now. He’d just seen them as a strange subset of the BDSM world. Natural submissives who also liked to act like they were younger than they really were? He’d never met anyone like that until he came here. Now, they were everywhere. And she was one of them. Yet somehow, she was different to the others. They were all on a spectrum of course, just like with any kink or predilection. But Mabel didn’t seem to fit the mold at all. She was so fiery, so sure of herself. But there was a well of complexity in her. Deep down, she was just as submissive as any of them. He was sure of it. She just didn’t know it yet. And she hadn’t met the right person to bring it out of her.
He sat under a Carolina Buckthorn tree, with its telltale black and red berries, away from the others, chewing his stew as the listened to the Littles laughing together. He heard snatches of their conversation, so he knew they were laughing about a video someone had seen of a cat wearing a Santa costume online, but it was hard not to think they were laughing at him. He’d never, ever had this urge before, but as he watched Mabel eating up her stew, he found himself wondering what it’d be like tospankher.
What itreallywould be like.
His hand on her ass. Bare, of course. Squeezing it. Slapping it. Watching it redden.
He wondered what her moans would be like. How she might wriggle. Resist. Rebel.
And he thought about how delicious it would feel to keep her in line, to watch her, finally, submit to him.
Naturally, as a Dom, Rip had played around with power dynamics in relationships before. A little bondage. One girlfriend was into breath play. Another liked to be slapped in the face at the moment she came. All of that pleased him, felt kinda fun and sexy, as long as it was done safely. But every time he looked at Mabel, this urge to spank… it felt likemorethan just play. More than just a bit of fun. It felt like it would be… a release.
Just then, something distracted him from his reverie. Mabel had stopped laughing. Even from this distance, he could see that she was staring at her cellphone, and her bottom lip was wobbling. It was the first time Rip had seen her look anything other than totally happy.
He didn’t like her sad face. It looked like she was wearing a mask. Like everything that was “Mabel” about Mabel had been instantly erased.
He watched her excuse herself from the table and walk around the back of a trailer, presumably to someplace private.
Should he follow her? He didn’t like to see someone so distraught all alone. His time in the military had taught him to always attend to the quietest people first. The people who were silent and alone were the ones who needed the most help.
Obviously, sometimes, people just wanted to be by themselves for a while. It was hard to judge when a person needed alone time and when they needed company.
Screw it. He was meant to be having a duel with her this afternoon. He had to know that she was okay. He hadn’t been in the movie business for long, but he knew enough to know that even a fake fight brought up certain emotions in the actors. He had to check that she was up to it.
He set his empty bowl down on the trolley for dirty dishes and headed after her.
As he got closer, he heard Mabel’s voice, tense and angry, and he frozen.
“What do you mean we can’t talk anymore?”
There was a pause.
