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His voice had gone low, and his expectations were clear.
My smile vanished as a tingle rode down my spine then back up.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whispered, blinking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I would like to thank you for bringing me to this amazing and wonderful den of depravity where we can explore some seriously kinky and fun vibes…finally. Sir.”
Alastair threw his head back and laughed. It might not have been extremely Dom-like, but it was very Alastair-like, and my smile returned. Despite my eagerness to experience all ofthis, I was nervous, and Alastair’s relaxed and confident attitude was definitely helping.
He stared at the low couch, stroking the frame with his long fingers. “I want you to stand by the settee, Toby.”
My knees wobbled as I made my way over. It was only a few feet, but it felt like a mile. I stood there, biting my tongue because it wanted to be a smart-ass, but something told me that wasn’t a good idea.
“Good boy,” Alastair said.
I smiled. He didn’t smile back.
“I want you to look around this room and tell me what you see.”
“Oh,” I said. I’d expected him to tell me to kneel or to get on all fours and suck him off or something. I’d been watching all the kinky gay porn I could find over the last couple of weeks, and in none of them did the Dom make the sub look around the room and tell him about it. “Okay.”
But I started talking.
“So, the floor is wood, dark wood. And there’s a settee.” I sidelined a glance at Alastair, whose lips twitched.
“Go on.”
“And there’s a rack of clothes…like, old-fashioned stuff.”
“Victorian and Edwardian. Yes.”
“And there’s a vanity with a mirror and a cushioned stool.”
I wondered why that was here—in case a Dom wanted to threaten a sub with a makeover? I would be so lucky!
I shifted my gaze and took a breath. “There’s a bed? Kind of a platform, really, with what looks like a leather mattress?”
“It’s vinyl. Easy to clean.”
“Ah. Anyway, it’s got um…lots of places to…attach someone.”
“Mmm. Very practical,” Alastair murmured, his voice like velvet. “What’s on the other side of the bed, against the wall, Toby?”
“Well, that’s a…that’s a St. Someone’s cross. I can’t remember the saint,” I mumbled.
I glanced at Alastair. He was struggling not to laugh. “St. Andrew. A St. Andrew’s cross.”
“Yeah. That. Which looks pretty crazy but also kind of fun.”
“Fun. Interesting.”
“And there’s a…spanking bench? Is that what that is?”
“Yes, Toby. That’s a spanking bench.”
“Yep. A spanking bench. For…spanking.”
“For being spanked,” Alastair corrected.
I side-eyed him. “That’s what I meant, Sir.”
