Page 12 of On His Terms
As he rubbed her wrist, she tipped her head back.
“Would you like me to follow you, Sir?”
I would indeed. He grabbed their water bottles and started down the hall, not checking to see whether or not she followed—the choice was entirely hers.
Once he’d entered their assigned space, he moved toward the side wall. As he familiarized himself with the paraphernalia and apparatus, on the wall and in drawers, he said, “Please strip.” He didn’t look over his shoulder as he spoke to her. “Then kneel in the center of the room. Some Doms will permit you to use a mat. I will not.”
As always, Master Damien had ensured each room in the dungeon was well stocked. Damien was not only a gracious host, but a shrewd businessman. A production company often filmed at the Den and on its surrounding acreage. Not only that, but the facilities were available for rental.
A few of the rooms had themes, but this one was multi-purpose. A padded, massage-type table was off to one side. Hooks had been strategically attached, but he doubted he’d be using them this evening.
After placing the water bottles on a shelf, he opened drawers, set out a container of disinfectant wipes, tossed a condom on the counter, laid out several pairs of surgical gloves, then pulled out a bottle of lube.
Alex studied the assorted floggers, spankers, and other implements hanging on the wall. As he did so, the soft sounds of her reached him.
Finally he selected a thick flogger—crafted from deer hide, if his guess was correct. It should provide a nice thud, but nothing too intense for her creamy skin.
When he faced her, she was in the same position Brandy had been in earlier. Chelsea was even looking at the floor. A nice start. Her skirt and shirt were folded precisely. If she had removed all her clothes, he would have been elated. “What instructions were you given, girl?”
She looked up. “To strip and to kneel, Sir.”
“What part of that was open to interpretation?”
“I…” She sighed and rolled her hands into tight fists.
He wasn’t sure if she was anxious or whether she was frustrated with him. “Was your thong expensive?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good.” He took out a pair of emergency scissors and approached her. He crouched in front of her and snipped the material. “And the bra?”
“Uh…I’m happy to remove it, Sir.”
“You had the opportunity.” When she didn’t argue, he went on, “You understood my command. Did the bra cost a week’s salary?”
“No, Sir.”
He moved behind her to release the hooks, then he squatted in front of her to cut through the shoulder straps. After the ruined scrap of lace had fallen to the floor, near her thong, he caught her chin. “Lesson learned?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “When you tell me to strip, that means I am to be naked.”
“You have ten seconds to remove your shoes. Remain on your knees.”
He stood and worked the pulleys on the wall that would lower an overhead hook. Then he took out a small stool that was stored in a corner. Once things were prepared, he returned to her. Her shoes were laid alongside her neatly folded pile of discarded clothing. “The position you are in is what I call kneeling back. It’s a fairly comfortable position for a sub. But you should place your hands palms up on your thighs.”
When she did, he added, “However, that’s not my preferred position. I prefer to have my subs kneeling up.”
He took a cane from the wall. She couldn’t know that he didn’t intend to punish her with it, but rather, he would use it to correct flaws in her posture. He didn’t explain it to her. It was fine with him if she had some questions, even better if she had some concerns.
He tapped the rattan against his open palm. “When I instruct you to kneel, you can assume it means I want you in the kneel up position. This means placing your hands behind your neck.” When she did so, he added, “Spine straight, and no more resting on your calves. Thrust out your breasts. Keep your knees far apart. Farther.” He tapped the insides of her thighs with the rattan. “Even more.” When he was satisfied, he nodded. “This makes it possible to punish your pussy if I desire.”
“I… Yeah. That scares me.”
“No need to be. Yet.”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? A cane on the pussy is most definitely on my limits list.”
“Acknowledged. However, it doesn’t have to be wicked, if you ever want to try it.”