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While the quiet woman’s eyes danced around the room, little flecks of gold dazzled in them when the light hit her face. Perhaps her naivety was more like a child marveling in wonder, but Dylan couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to taste such innocence in BDSM, which, from the lack of references meant “wet behind the ears” and, hopefully, other places.
Dylan asked her a question, one that would confirm her suspicions. There was no response as the amenities of the bedroom held her gaze captive. “Ari!” Dylan called out in her Mistress tone.
Her attention snapped back like a rubber band, almost frightened by the sting of her words.
Dylan repeated, “You haven’t filled in the previous experience section. Did you miss this part of the questionnaire?”
“Um ... No, I didn’t. I don’t really have any. But I’m eager to learn.”
Eager to learn? That was the perfect response for Dylan, as the growing attraction made it hard to keep her professionalism in check. “And that leads me to my next question. Why do you want to be a performer at Adytum?”
Perhaps it was the intense stare, which Dylan tried hard not to do, that caused Ari to shift in her seat while her fingers rubbed together in a nervous tic. The woman hesitated, searching for the perfect answer to a question that was neither provocative nor intimate. Her shoulders gave a slight lift as she said, “I really need the money.”
Money made people do a lot of things they regretted, including Dylan, who had been in that same boat many times. Nothing good ever came from it. If she had given an inkling of interest toward BDSM, Dylan would have continued on. Instead, she dropped the application to her lap, conceding to the morals she guarded.
That prompted Ari to take another approach to her reason. “Well, that and ... this world intrigues me. I’ve heard rumors about Adytum. You know, stories of what goes on inside. It’s sparked something beneath the surface, a necessity to explore thoughts I’ve long tucked away. Adytum seems like the place where I can dive headfirst into it.”
More perfect words for Dylan. Without picking up the application, her chest opened up again with her arms spread to rest along the back of the sofa. Dominance to take over the scene, the entire interview process. “You’re a submissive. Well, that is what the assessment form states.”
With a bashful dip of her chin, Ari’s cheeks blushed a pinkish shade of rouge. “Yes.”
Without breaking eye contact, Dylan continued, “It is ... unconventional to take on inexperienced submissives. However, depending on how well you can follow directions today, we may make an exception.”
From where she leaned on the wall next to the door, Cooper’s brow rose, and rightfully so. It was unconventional to throw an untrained sub into a den of hungry lesbians, not wise at all. Despite Cooper’s questionable glare, she didn’t care. The idea of a blank canvas submissive soaked her underwear like no one else had. The ripe cherry of this BDSM virgin had her salivating. She wanted to be the Domme who’d pop it, to break this woman until tears were waterfalls from her eyes, then she’d lift her up, soothe her stinging body and deflated ego, and make beautiful love to her.
The crooked smile matched that of Dylan’s twisted mind. She’d toy with her and see just how far this docile woman would go. “During this assessment, you are to refer to me as ‘Boss.’ When I ask questions, you will respond with the same respect that you would show ... let’s say, your superior. Now, you listed your safe word as cotton candy. Is that correct?”
Ari nodded with a crackle in her voice, “Uh ... Yes, Boss?”
“Good, but next time, don’t stammer. And your reply is not a question.” Dylan continued, “Don’t be nervous. The safe word is there if you need to use it. Consent is the most fundamental part of BDSM, understood?”
“Yes, Boss.” This time, there was no hesitation in her voice. It was firm, direct, and to the point, with a slight upward curl to her mouth.
With a flick of her finger, she said, “Now, stand up and turn around.” When the puzzled woman knitted her brows, Dylan’s voice took a more dominant tone, “Don’t think. Just do.”
While rising from the chair, Ari’s gaze remained on hers. As she stepped into a tight circle, she caught sight of Cooper at the door, which jolted her posture upright. The presence of another person had not been so obvious with Cooper’s silence. Maxi always required both a submissive and a Mistress in auditions at all times, even when she held the auditions.
Between Cooper and Dylan, Ari danced over their gazes, but when Dylan made the next request, she peered deep into Ari's soul: a silent call to remain submissive. “Bend over with your legs straight and grab your ankles.”
When Ari darted her eyes over her shoulder, twisting to question Dylan, she glared, and so did Cooper. Dylan enjoyed the power, maybe a little too much. She pressed her fingers together, making a pyramid in front of her mouth as she said, “Don’t think. Just do.”
Before Ari turned back around, Cooper shook her head. It was completely wrong and inappropriate to be letting this woman continue on, but as Ari faced forward and complied with Dylan’s command, it was so very worth it. The woman bent at the waist, her short dress lifting just enough to provide a view of her panties for Dylan’s viewing pleasure.
They were pastel yellow with a slight spot in the center that had darkened from the dampness that had pooled. Dylan knew it matched hers. She stood up. “Good girl. Very nice. May I touch you, Miss Delgado?”
A sign of nervousness at being so vulnerable, Ari stammered, “Y-y-yes, Boss.”
With a complete disregard for Cooper’s unspoken protest, Dylan licked her lips and stepped forward with her eyes peering at the prize. Her body pressed against Ari’s backside—as if ready to mount her—with her hand in front of her. The tip of her finger grazed the center of Ari’s panties, starting low at her clit and dragging upward and over the wetness to the curve of her ass. As she did this, the shudder from Ari’s body wasn’t one that wanted to pull away. Instead, it was as if she leaned into it, forcing Dylan’s finger to do more than just glide over the fabric.
As much as she wanted to slide those deterring panties to the side and dive into her, Dylan remained poised. “My, my, Miss Delgado. You are very responsive. How does that feel?”
That question just came out. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, especially with Cooper in the room. It was a habit that she always asked her submissives how they felt when she played with their bodies on personal time, though it never slipped off her tongue with any of the earlier applicants. Dylan was in a zone, and it wasn’t a professional one.
When Ari’s breathy response of “Ready, Boss” crept up from her chest, it wasn’t what Dylan had expected, especially with such a lustful tone.
“Ready for what, Miss Delgado?”
“Ready for whatever you want, Boss.”
