Every nerve in her body responded to his words. Yes! Her heart raced and her breathing came in shorter breaths. She realized in that moment she wanted nothing more than to submit to Daniel. She wanted to be the one yielding and she wanted to yield to him.
Even though he sat across the table from her, she felt his presence as clearly as she did the night before when his hands were fisted in her hair while she knelt before him.
“Do you exchange checklists with everyone you play with?” she asked.
He leaned onto the table so his body rested on his arms. “Yes, everyone. You should never play with anyone before talking about limits. And as a senior member of the local club, I strongly recommend you get to know anyone before entering into a serious relationship.”
“Trust me. I’m all about the slow. I won’t be asking for a collar or anything any time soon.”
She meant for her words to put him at ease, to assure him she wanted to walk into the exploration with tiny baby steps. Yet when she mentioned a collar, his hands fisted on top of the table and then went back to normal so quickly, she wondered if she imagined it. She glanced up to his eyes. Calm and even, but something lurked behind them, she was certain.
“I think next Saturday is a great idea,” she said. “But I was wondering one more thing for today.”
He relaxed slightly. “Yes?”
“Will you show me your playroom?”
Daniel was glad he didn’t have any liquid in his mouth. As it was, he nearly fell out of his chair. “What?”
She looked all innocent-like. “Sasha said you had one. I’ve never seen one. I thought I’d ask.”
Yes, when she put it like that, it made sense. He supposed it wouldn’t be unheard of for him to show a person interested in submission a playroom. His only fear was that once he got Julie in his playroom, he would never want her to leave.
He rose to his feet. Best to do something about his growing erection before showing her the playroom. “I washed your clothes from last night. I’ll go get them and we can meet back here in ten minutes or so?”
After giving her the clothes, he spent the next ten minutes forcing his body into something resembling control. First, he took her checklist and firmly placed it on his nightstand. He wouldn’t look at it again until she had left. Then and only then would he memorize it while planning for the weekend to come.
Secondly, he gave himself a stern talking-to. He reminded himself that Julie was extremely new to BDSM, had no prior experience, and that he was putting himself in a situation that required delicate handling. One wrong move and not only would he lose her, but he could damage the beautiful submissive he clearly saw buried within her, yearning to be free.
By the time he made it back to the kitchen, where she was already waiting, he thought he was in a fairly decent frame of mind. Julie appeared caught between nervousness and excitement, both underlined with a hint of lust.
He held out his hand. “Ready?”
Tentatively, she took it and he led her to the basement stairs. How did one go about this? he wondered. If he mentioned women were typically naked when they entered his playroom, would that only bring to her mind the fact he’d had other women? But of course she would know, he argued with himself. She knew him to be a Dom.
Still, he finally decided, knowing it and having him mention it were two totally different things.
He remained quiet.
When they stood before the closed door, he silently recited the pledge he always did before entering.
May I be found worthy of the submission given to me in this room.
May I remember it is a gift and not a right.
May I never punish in anger, speak without thinking, or act without knowledge.
May I never forget that in order to master another, I must first master myself.
Finally calm, he looked to Julie, waited for her to nod, and opened the door.
He tried to imagine he was looking at the playroom for the first time. Would she take in the beige walls first or the equipment?
Julie let go of his hand. “Can I look around?”
“Sure.” He stuck his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to hold on to her. “I’ll just stay here. Let me know if you have questions.”
She amazed him with both her curiosity and the easy way she took the lifestyle in stride. She walked around slowly, staring at the padded table, lightly running a finger on it. She stopped before his collection of floggers and didn’t touch, but seemed to take note of each. He tried hard not to envision using one on her.
Later, he told himself. When she was more accustomed to identifying as a submissive. After he had more of a handle on what she liked, what she craved.
She shivered when she moved on to the wall where masks and gags hung. He didn’t think it was a shiver of pleasure. The cane collection got a cursory nod and she tilted her head as she inspected the padded bench. She appeared so at ease with everything, it caught him off guard when she stopped short at the whipping post.
“What’s that?” she asked in a whisper.
Her voice held a note of anxiety he hadn’t anticipated. In less than two seconds, he was at her side, a hand on her shoulder. “Julie?”
“Is that a whipping post?”
He told her earlier a submissive had to be honest with her Dom. The reverse was also true. “Yes,” he said.
There was no mistaking her shiver at his affirmation. “Where you whip people?”
Silently, he cursed himself for being so blasé about her exploration of the playroom. “You can also use it for flogging and less intense play.”
“But you have a whip, like a bullwhip?”
He did, carefully tended to and practiced with weekly to ensure he stay proficient in its proper usage. “I think it’s time we left the playroom.”
“Show it to me.”
“No.”
“I marked the bullwhip as ‘won’t object’ on my list. Then I saw the . . . post . . .”
He breathed a sigh of relief; her reaction made more sense after she said that. “Sometimes we think we’re okay with something,” he said. “But when actually faced with it, we change our mind.”
“Just the thought of being strapped there, naked and exposed. Waiting . . . I want to change bullwhip to hard limit.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, but she didn’t move her gaze from the post.
“Look at me.” He took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Every submissive has a different need when it comes to sensation play. Some only desire a soft flogging, but others are hard-core masochists and require the bite of the whip. Part of play is to find where your need lies, but you get to be the one who ultimately decides how far you’ll go.”
Her body relaxed under his words and touch, which made him feel better.
“That’s right,” she said, though he realized she spoke more to herself than in response to him.
He took her hand and led her from the room. “Come with me.”
For the next few hours, they bundled up and he showed her around his property. She didn’t seem to be suffering any lasting effects from either the spanking or the playroom. In fact, she seemed more at ease around him.
He took her by the pond he’d spoken of earlier, showing her the place he would fish as a young boy. He pointed out his guesthouse and explained that he hosted play parties there. He even spoke of his parents, which was something he rarely did with anyone. How his mother died after giving birth to his sister and how his grief-stricken father had taken off and never come back.