SEVEN: I Accept

I decide not to answer him just yet. Instead, I walk over to the closet that I tell myself I won’t open tonight.

“If worshipping is the reward, I’d like to see the punishment.” I say, stepping back and gesturing with my hand to the closet.

He takes his suit jacket off, and I openly watch his muscles stretching his shirt fabric, just like at the office. There is a different energy here though.

Then he walks over to the closet, pausing in front of me for a second before turning to look at the objects fully. I step back to give him space to decide, heading back to lean on the desk as he chooses. The closet only holds the beginner toys, cuffs, floggers, and simple collars. It is about exploring the interests, and once preferences have been found, the harder and more complex toys can be brought in.

“The one in that Room that you showed me, it’s not here.” He says after a few seconds. My breath hitches in my throat.

Of course he’d want the nine tails.

“The Cat o’Nine tails is one that takes practice to use. We don’t bring it in until we both understand our boundaries.”

“So I’m just supposed to pick one and spank you?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

I sigh and walk back over to him.

“If I agree, you’ll be doing it very regularly, Mr. Reid.” I counter, making the arrogant look on his face disappear. “So we might as well start somewhere.”

I reach forward and pick up the leather flogger. “This one is similar to a nine tails. If you want to start with that.” I explain, handing it over to him.

He nods, but as I walk back over to the seats, he  grabs something from the table.

I wait patiently for him to approach me, turning slightly when I hear the flogger hitting the desk. That’s when I spot the blindfold in his hand.

He steps towards me, placing the material over my mask, covering my eyes. I feel his hands at the back of my head, tying it together, but I can also feel his breath on my cheek. It makes my skin shiver.

“Kneel.” He whispers into my ear.

I breathe. Then I slowly put my hand on the side of the desk, and gracefully get to my knees, my hands resting on top like it is second nature.

“Is there anywhere I can’t hit you?”

“My face.” I say instantly with a smile at the chivalry of checking. “My day job wouldn’t appreciate it.”

I want to chuckle at the irony when suddenly, I hear the loud scrape of wood from my left, and reach a hesitant hand out.

He has moved the desk.

Another scrape, and I’m pretty sure it is the chair being moved, giving me space. Giving him space.

“Hand.” He orders, and I don’t need to question him on it. I hold my hand out, palm facing up, feeling the leather straps of the flogger grazing over it. “For someone who said they weren’t a sub, you’re very good at it.” He comments, my ears trying to pick up where in the room he is.

I smile at the praise, but say nothing.

Then the flogger snaps to my hand. I don’t flinch. I don’t move.

“Give me a scale on how hard it was.” He orders, his voice suddenly in my right ear.

I feel the excitement flood through me.

“3.”

He does it again.

“5.”

Again.

“5.” I repeat with a smirk, knowing he’s watching me.

“Are you being a brat on purpose?” He growls from somewhere above me.

“I’m being honest.” I explain. “It’s a poor substitute for the nine tails.”

I hear a thud on the floor, and assume he’s thrown the toy to the side.

I jump when his fingers wrap around my throat.

“Maybe we should wait until you allow me to use that then.” He says in a low voice.

I can feel his breath on my lips, but the grip he has on my throat is making the blood thump in my ears, muffling the sound of his words slightly. He lets go, and I hear his footsteps crossing the room, and then a rummaging sound.

He’s getting something else out.

“Stand up.” He commands, and I shakily get to my feet as I hear him walk back over.

His fingers gently close around my wrist, tugging it to my back, and I soon feel cold metal snake around me. The cuffs.

I allow him to cuff my hands behind my back, and then he uses the restraint to pull me across the room. I blink behind my masks, eagerly waiting for what he’s going to do.

He steadies me for a second, then his hands are on my hips, guiding me to step forward. My knees hit something solid, making me pause. Sliding his hands down to my knees, he gently urges me to lift them, and I do, one by one, as he pulls them over him, either side of his lap, until I am straddling him while he sits in the chair.

The air is thick, silent, as we both wait. He stares up at me, waiting to spot a reaction, while I wait for his hands to move, for him to speak.

“Can I touch you?” He finally asks.

The plan is to talk, purely talk, work out his limits in line with mine. The plan is not to engage in any activities tonight.

And yet, I find myself nodding.

His fingers move up my thigh, delicately, as though he’s tracing an invisible pattern on my skin. I feel my hips trying to twitch, to move, roll over him, but I force myself to stay in place.

He pushes the bottom of my chemise up, the material bunching around my hips, the air breezing over my newly exposed skin. A finger trails over the line of my underwear. My heart is thudding in my chest as I wait, but he doesn’t keep me waiting long. His finger quickly runs over my clit, the material between us doing nothing to dull the sensation. My body shudders in response, and his other hand flies up to my neck, gripping it just as he has before. It makes my mouth fall open as I gasp, and he presses his hand harder against me.

“I’m going to ask you some questions. You need to answer every, single, one. Got it?” He growls, and I nod. He starts moving his hand, rubbing my core through my underwear. “What is off limits for you?”

I lick my lips, not sure how honestly to answer.

He rips his hand away from me, making my hips twitch in need.

“Answer me.” He demands.

“Not much.” I breathe, and then he puts his hand back on me. My head rolls back a little.

“Safewords?”

“That depends.” I reply. “Whenever I’ve subbed, usually my mouth is usually  somewhat… preoccupied.” I say with a slight smile.

His fingers tighten on my neck.

“What do I call you?” Is his next question. I debate it as he continues to stroke my clit.

“Whatever you decide.” I end up saying. His hand tugs on my neck, bringing my face down to his, where I can feel his breath on my lips.

“What are you usually called?”

“Mistress.” I pant. “But that wouldn’t exactly apply to us.”

I want to see his face, whether he’s smirking at my answer or not. Instead, all I can hear is silence, and all I can feel are his fingers at my core, teasing me, threatening to dip into my wetness. I want him to take my underwear off. I try rolling my hips to silently tell him what I want, but he doesn’t respond any differently.

“Have you decided to agree?” He asks, and my body tenses. I don’t reply. “Doll?” He growls, urging me to respond, but I don’t.

He takes his hand away. He takes his other hand from my neck. Then he’s reaching behind me, undoing the cuffs from my wrist. After I’m freed, he starts gently pushing my hips back, making me step down from his lap, and he takes my hands to help me stand.

I feel his fingers around my mask, carefully separating the top one from my bottom one, and he pulls it over my head. I blink back to the room, focusing on him standing in front of me. His gorgeous fucking face right in front of me, just running his eyes over me.

“What are you doing?” I frown.

“Let me know when you decide.” He says simply, taking my hand, bringing my knuckles to his mouth, and placing a kiss on them. I watch him in confusion as my body thrums with desire, wanting him to finish this.

He turns and walks towards the door. As I hear the handle click open, my brain finally jumps into action.

“Mr. Reid?” I call, making him freeze, and turn his head to look at me.

I breathe.

“I accept.”