“I do. I want to come back. I want to learn more about you as well, sir.” She nuzzled her head into me, wrapping her arm around my waist.
“Knowing me isn’t whats important. You are what is important. However, I do understand that you are curious, so each time we are together you can ask me two questions. I will answer them as best I can. My job and my name are the only two things I will not answer, at least right now. If we come to something else I don’t feel you need to know, I will address it at that time.” I didn’t have to let her know me, but I knew it would make it easier for her to trust me if she knew more about me.
“Do I get two questions tonight?” she asked quickly, rising and looking in my direction.
I was going to have to leave because my eyes were adjusting to the darkness thanks to the slim line of light from under both doors. I could see faint outlines within the dark, which meant that she would be able to see as well, possibly even more after the darkness behind the blindfold. Not wanting to rush out on her, I agreed she could ask her two questions.
“Are you married?” was her first question. “Or have you been married in the past?”
“Is that going to be both of your questions for the night?” I reminded her of the limit. I hadn’t been married before, but I was going to make her work for every bit of information.
“No,” she snapped quickly then breathed deeply. “Just are you currently married?”
“No.”
She sat quietly for a moment before asking her second question. “Why can’t I know your name?”
Chapter 7
Alix
With each question he asked about what I was and wasn’t willing to do, I breathed harder. My body temperature rose as the need for release escalated to heights I’d never felt before. When my addition had been at it’s peak, I’d experimented with many positions in bed trying to find the one that felt the best, but nothing had come even close to what he made me feel. Maybe it had to do with the BDSM aspect, maybe it was simply him.
I found it easy to call him “sir” when I spoke to him. It was the tone of his voice, the manner in which he touched me. He wasn’t a fumbling, lost idiot. Each touch, each caress was purposeful, thought out. However, when it came to his so-called spankings, I could tell he was holding back. I wanted him to let loose on me; I wanted to feel the harsh flick of the leather against my skin when he used the crop or hear the crack of skin meeting skin from a spanking. Why wasn’t I nervous around this man who had cut off my shirt? Because he’d done everything possible to make me feel reassured and safe. Not one touch was in a groping or sexual way. Even when I’d been restrained and at my most vulnerable, he’d been calculated, calm and controlled. He could’ve tied my hands tightly and I wouldn’t have complained, but he didn’t. He made sure that I knew that I could easily get out of the restraint if I wanted to, but I didn’t. I liked handing over the control to see what he could do with it.
In the end, though, I was greatly disappointed that he’d said no to sex, but that didn’t stop me from going home to find release on my own. I’d tried to force the issue, but again, ever so calmly he’d told me it wasn’t going to happen. I’d anticipated more punishment because I’d known I was breaking the rules by trying to get him to break his own restraint. None came, sadly.
I feared that he would restrict my release, tell me I couldn’t help myself, but he hadn’t and I wasn’t going to bring it up. I didn’t think even with his order I’d be strong enough to not do it, especially after all the yummy experiences that I had just been through.
When he said I could have two questions, I nearly jumped off the bed to do a happy dance. I didn’t think it was fair for this man to want to know so much about me, but not be willing to give something of himself in return. First things first, though— I had to know if why he didn’t want me to see him was because he was hiding something major, like a little wifey at home. After he said no, I debated with myself on how to phrase or even to ask the question that was on the tip of my tongue.
Finally, I knew I just had to say it. I had to at least ask. Gathering my nerves, I quickly spilled the question. “Why can’t I know your name?”
“It’s just a name. It’s a common name at that. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t tell you anything about me, really. It is just a name.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer, as if he’d known that I was going to ask it all along.
“Then how will I know what to call you besides ‘sir’?” How would I talk about him to anyone if I didn’t have a name to give him without calling him “sir”? That would only make conversations awkward. Then again, maybe that was the point of not telling me his name.
“You can call me Master or Sir. If you absolutely must, you can call me Master J. And that was a third question, but I will allow it as it is something you should know.”
I could see the faintest outline of his body in the dark room. I’d felt how strong and hard his body was when I’d pressed against him. When my head had rested upon his chest, I’d felt the buttons of a dress shirt; that, along with the glimpse of his shiny shoes, told me he was dressed in business attire. Not that any of that would really make him stand out in a crowd if I were to run into him again. However, his voice, with the British accent and hard tone, most certainly would.
“Lie down,” he said and I did as he instructed, curious to see where things were headed. I had thought our time was coming to a close, but would be more than happy to stay for more. A soft chuckle caressed my senses before he told me to roll onto my stomach. “Lower your pants to just below your cheeks.”
Without a word, I quickly did so.
“I’m going to turn the lights up. Do you think you can control yourself and keep your eyes closed or do you need me to blindfold you?” As he spoke, I felt the bed shift as he stood.
“I will keep them closed, sir.” I already had them closed so all I had to do was resist the temptation to sneak a peek.
His footsteps drifted away, only to return.
There was a dim light behind my eyelids, but I kept them closed as I felt his hands glide over my skin.
“Just checking to make sure you are okay after taking a few taps from the crop,” he informed me. “You may stand and fix your pants. There is a spare shirt in the room you entered through, along with a note from me. Thank you for coming tonight.”
I lay still, unsure if I was actually supposed to get up or not. When I heard the click of a door closing, I knew that I was alone again. Rolling over, I sat up. My bottom wasn’t sore at all from the crop so I doubted there was much of anything for him to see, but it didn’t bother me one ounce to have his hands on me. Fixing my pants, I stood then walked back through the door I had come in through. I didn’t look around, didn’t care. I could tell he was gone, the room felt much emptier without him in it and there was nothing else that interested me. Folded neatly where the initial note had been were a button-down shirt and another note.
Setting the note aside, I pulled the shirt on, lifting it to my nose to breathe in his scent. It smelled just like him. Smiling as I buttoned it up, I thought of how swiftly things had changed. It hadn’t been so long since I’d walked into the room bound and determined to do things my way when it came to Master J. Snuggling the shirt that swallowed me, I enjoyed the comfort and security our time brought me even if I wasn’t that much more informed than when I’d arrived. At least I knew what was expected when we met, not to mention I felt the flutters in my stomach that normally came with meeting someone you were intensely interested in.