BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Chapter 25

Master Xavier’s eyes widened. She could barely see them through the mask he wore. His eyes were green. Not hazel, but a pretty true green.

He leaned closer. “Little girl, you don’t want to play with me. Tell the overseers that you won’t sub for me.”

Mae’s hands curled into fists. “I’m not your little girl.” There’d been a time when she’d reveled in being called that by a Dom, but her tastes had changed.

He reached for her hair, fingers stopping just short of contact. “No, you’re not.” He stepped back. Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Mae’s mouth opened in surprise. Was that regret in his voice?

“Tell the overseers you can’t be partnered with me.” He turned his back, apparently done with her.

“Why?”

Master Xavier faced her, clearly surprised she was still in the room. “Is this what you like?” He motioned to the dungeon-like playroom. “This is what I like, and unless you want to be spread open on the floor so I can whip your pussy, I suggest you leave.”

Mae dropped her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek as a shiver took her. She didn’t want that. She wanted to be kissed and cuddled and spanked. Yet her body was thrumming with arousal, and her pussy was so wet she was afraid to move.

“I meant why don’t you tell them, Sir?” The words were breathy, but she got them out.

Xavier crossed his arms. “I did. I spent the last few hours arguing to have our pairing reassigned, but Mistress Faith refused. I was given the option of meeting with you or resigning from Las Palmas. Since

I do not want to lose my membership, it’s up to you to walk away. You will not be punished for doing so; I saw to that.”

An unfamiliar feeling settled over Mae. She’d been blessed in life by being smart, pretty, and having the kind of personality that drew people to her. There were very few times she’d ever been rejected, romantically, sexually, or as a friend. It took her a minute, but she realized what this feeling was.

Embarrassment. Embarrassment and shame. He was rejecting her, without even getting to know her. She should get the hell out of here and back to the safety of the Sub Rosa Court and Doms who enjoyed the kind of submission she was willing to offer.

She should, but she wasn’t going to.

Mae raised her chin and folded her arms. “No.”

* * *

Xavier narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“I mean that I’m not going to tell the overseers that I can’t be partnered with you. Everyone has to play the checklist game, and I’m not going to get in trouble just because you would rather have a different sub.”

Rather have another sub? Xavier shook his head—if only she knew how hard he was fighting his attraction to her. He needed her to get out of here before he lost his internal battle and gave in to his desire to dominate her.

“I told you, you won’t be in trouble. You’re making a mistake, little girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“If you sub for me, I’ll call you whatever I want.” Her attitude was both irritating and rather engaging.

“Well I’m not subbing for you right now.”

“If you’re still standing here in five minutes you will be.”

“Fine, then I’ll stand here for five minutes.” Mae stepped out of her shoes and kicked them to the side. He saw her bare toes curl against the cold tile.

Those cold little toes disturbed him. He didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable. And damn if that wasn’t the dumbest thought considering what he wanted to do to her.

Xavier grabbed a mat from the stack and tossed it on the floor in the center of the room. He pointed, silently commanding her to stand there. Mae’s chin notched up in an even more defiant expression. Xavier had to admit he was impressed. She was ballsier than he’d expected.

Their gazes met. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds. Xavier held her gaze, unafraid of the intimacy of such an action.

A little shudder went through her. She lowered her eyelids, her defiant stance softening. She padded over to the mat.

Xavier took a deep breath as the air in the room thickened. He’d felt it when he looked into her eyes— the first hints of the power transfer that was so critical to BDSM play.

“Kneel.” The order was a test, as much for him as it was for her.

Mae hesitated and looked at him. He could see the war inside her—the battle between the desire to submit and the urge to fight back, to remain in control. She pressed her lips together, looked at the floor and then back to him.

Now he read something else in her expression.

Help me. Help me submit.

He’d been with subs who needed that first push, but they hadn’t said “help me.” They’d said “make me,” their defiance carefully orchestrated to give him the opening to grab them by the hair and force them to their knees, giving both of them what they wanted.

Letting instinct guide him, Xavier reached for Mae, giving her the physical contact that would help her submit. Instead of grabbing her by the hair, neck, or arms, Xavier ran his hand along her bare shoulder down to her breast. He caressed the tip with his palm, and when her nipple beaded, he pinched it between his curled index finger and thumb. Still holding her nipple, he repeated the order.

“Kneel, Mae.”

She dropped gracefully to her knees, whimpering slightly when the movement pulled the tip of her breast from between his fingers.

She was sitting with her legs pressed together, her hands curled into little fists. Her hair spilled over her bare shoulder, almost long enough to cover her nipple.

Xavier returned to the chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. Nothing was going the way he thought it would. Instead of running away, the lovely woman was far stronger than he’d imagined, and most surprisingly, was now submitting, despite an initial show of defiance.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to leave. But only one. If you stay, you’re agreeing to submit to me, to be mine, until we’ve completed the checklist items. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Xavier picked the envelope up from the floor under the chair. “Once you hear the list, you’ll realize you’re not ready for me.”

That brought her chin up, her gaze defiant even as she remained submissively kneeling. “What letter are we?”

“B, as in bondage.”