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“Terrified.”
“Okay.”
“Turned on.”
“Good.”
“Like a piece of meat.”
Alastair laughed. “Fantastic.”
I blinked, then looked back at the frightening structure. “Do people really use this?”
“Oh yes.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. I like it a lot. It keeps my submissive humble and obedient, and I have access to do just about anything.”
I glanced at him, then looked back at the cross. “Most of this stuff works the same way…holds someone the way you want them.”
He pushed off the wall and stalked toward me. A shiver slithered down my spine and right to my balls, as my dick plumped all the fucking way.
“Yes. But there’s something about the pillory. It’s more…undignified. More debasing, you know?” Alastair explained. “The cross, the spanking bench? They keep a submissive in a convenient position. This”—he reached past me and stroked the polished top of the cruel-looking device—“this can put a sub into a very humiliating and powerless headspace.”
“No kidding.”
“But it can be hard on the back, and I don’t think we’re going to start with it.”
“Fine by me.” I already felt overwhelmed, and my body thrummed with anticipation.
He moved closer and took my chin in his hands, examining my face. “What do you say, Toby? The cross or the bench?”
“To start?” I breathed.
“To start,” he said. “We have lots of time to explore the room.”
“Okay.” I let my gaze wander over everything again. Then I pointed to the St. Andrew’s cross. “That.”
“Yay,” he said, and it sounded hilarious coming from him. I must have looked shocked, because he shrugged and minced like a little girl. Then I saw him go into Dom mode as his expression changed, and he dropped his hand from my chin. “Strip.”
I got to work, pulling my T-shirt over my head then pushing my yoga pants down and off. I piled them beside me on the floor.
“Oh, goddamn it…” Alastair said, hissing a breath.
I stared at him from under the fall of my mussed-up hair. “Do you like them, Sir?”
I’d worn a pair of neon blue lace hipsters that tucked my bottom up nicely and showed off my package.
“You can leave those on.”
“Oh.” I smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
“And the dog collar stays on,” he said as he gathered my clothes and threw them onto the spanking bench.
“Yes, Sir,” I said, feeling small, obedient and so, so sexy.
“Come here,” Alastair said, motioning me to follow him to the St. Andrew’s cross.
