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“Noted.”
I pivot, twisting my face to look at him. “I only want to do things if you like them too. I don’t want you doing me any favors here.”
His expression grows stern. “I've been dreaming about seeing you tied up, mouth open, choking on my cock, since the very first day I met you.”
“The first day?”
“The first few minutes, I believe,” he replies, his eyes flaring.
“Wow, that’s fast.”
“Well, I knew within minutes that you were a very badly behaved little woman who needed correction. And I wasn’t wrong.”
“Okaayy, then,” I sigh, turning back around after a moment. “What else do you need from me?”
He reaches over for the pen, grabbing a blank sheet of paper from a neat stack nearby and begins to write swiftly, his impeccable handwriting doing nothing to stop me reeling from the words which emerge so fast.
Praise
Bondage
Breath play
Edging
Impact play
Sensory deprivation
Voyeurism
Consensual non-consent
“We’ll start with a few very basic kinks. I want to know your thoughts, Indigo.”
Holy shit on a stick.
That’s my primary thought right now.
“Praise,” I whisper.
He tilts my head. “It’s very simple. Do you like it when I tell you when you’re being a good and obedient girl, and other variations of that?”
“I still think I prefer to be bad,” I suggest, biting my lip. “But… I like it,” I admit, recalling the effect those words had on me.
“Good,” he replies. “Bondage. I believe we’ve covered that one. I intend to use various devices to restrain you so that you can no longer move while I fuck you. Do you object to that?”
“No,” I reply, my face now so hot you could fry an egg on it.
“Good girl.” He ticks both words. “Now, breathplay…”
I figuratively scratch my brain. To me, breathplay is what we do during breathwork meditation. “You mean… we breathe on each other?” I ask, fairly certain that isn’t it.
His eyes sparkle. “No, Indigo. It means that I close off your airway while I fuck you.”
My lips separate enough for his gaze to drop quickly to my mouth and the tongue inside. Despite my arousal, an unwanted memory tremors through me, and I make a concerted effort to focus on his eyes in order to relieve the breathlessness that plagues me these days. “How does it work exactly?”
“Turn around fully and face me,” he instructs.
