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The blindfold was soft and not all that effective. Light leaked in where the fabric of the sleep-mask-style blindfold gaped along the side of her nose.
Then again, that little bit of light didn’t give her any clues as to what he was doing, or what her punishment would be.
Josslyn knelt on the floor cushion, careful to follow all the restrictive rules he’d set out for her. Knees spread, hands palm up on her thighs, and mouth open.
She was certain that he’d turned on the regular lights rather than flipping on all the mood and ambient lighting options. From the sound, he was moving around something heavy. Something that scraped over the floor and thudded. The temptation to tip her head back and try to peek out the bottom of the blindfold made her twitchy, but she held still.
When the lights clicked off, the room going black, fear and anticipation curled in her gut. She was about to let a man she quite literally just met hurt her. If he chose to tie her down for the punishment, she’d be helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to her.
The idea both horrified and thrilled her.
And it was also inaccurate.
He was a responsible Dom, which meant that he wouldn’t do something from her hard limit list, and he’d listen if she said “yellow,” “red,” or her safeword.
But she held on to this idea of being helpless, nurtured the fear because in many ways, she wanted, and needed, that fear as much as she wanted the pleasure of submission and release.
She jumped when he touched her hair.
“Josslyn.” It wasn’t exactly a question.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I was thinking.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Being helpless.”
“Afraid of it?”
“Yes, and I realize I like that. Being afraid. I think…” She paused to sort through the realization she had, organizing it so she could explain it to him. “I think in a way it’s like skydiving.”
“How so?”
“Objectively, heights are dangerous. Jumping out of a plane should kill you. But you put on a parachute, do the dangerous thing, and survive it.”
“Ah, I think I see. You’re about to be helpless, but you’ll survive it.”
She couldn’t stop her lips from twitching in a smile. “I’m fairly certain I’ll enjoy it, Sir.”
He made a noncommittal noise, then grabbed a fistful of her hair. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” He tugged on her hair, and Josslyn’s scalp prickled with pain. She shifted, getting one foot out from under herself and then rising awkwardly. She didn’t use her hands, and instead kept them relaxed, palms out. He didn’t let go of her hair, instead using the hold to steady her.
“Well done,” he murmured.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Once she was on her feet, he released her hair, then immediately removed the blindfold.
The majority of the room was once more lit with a twilight glow that turned the furniture and equipment into indigo-toned shadows. Near the back wall, under a metal grid suspended from the ceiling, sat a wooden sawhorse.
A spotlight illuminated it with stark white light, but the light was in the ceiling, above the metal grid, so there were stripes of sinister black shadows across the pale wood.
Josslyn swallowed hard.
“Mouth,” Master Ben warned.
She parted her lips in panic, eyes on the floor.
Master Ben put a hand on her back, guiding her forward. The gentlemanly move was odd in juxtaposition with where they were, and what was about to happen.
