But he didn’t write. Instead, he just sat there watching me. It was maddening.
Why isn’t he writing?
“What are you waiting for?” I practically snapped. My nerves were shot.
“Can I have the pen please?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, feeling foolish. “Yes…here. Sorry.”
I passed him the pen that I had been clutching tight in my hand. Instead of taking it from me like any ordinary person would, he used two hands to remove it slowly from my fingers, letting his touch hesitate ever so subtly over my knuckles. My heart fluttered from the intensity of that one little action.
Who knew that handing someone a pen could be so frigging erotic? I may never look at a pen the same way again.
“You’re blushing,” he said huskily, a crafty smile on his face. My hands immediately went to my face. He reached up to pull them away, and ran a finger along my jawline. A shiver raced down the length of my spine.
After a moment, he dropped his hand. The hungry look that had flashed in his eyes was now gone, and his face turned serious. He looked down at the paper in front of him.
“BDSM is all about limits, Krystina,” he said, getting back to business. “There are hard limits, and there are soft limits. It’s important that we have an understanding. For example, I won’t do anything with fire or electrical stimulation.”
“You’re joking, right?” I asked incredulously, his words immediately bringing me back down to earth.
Fire or electrical stimulation – what the fuck?
I thought my eyes might pop from their sockets. This was serious.
“No, Krystina. I’m not.” He studied me for a minute, before seeming to come to a decision. “How about I just write down the things that I would do and we can go from there. Do you want me to write down everything?”
“You might as well put it all out there, right?” I smiled meekly at him.
Soft limits, hard limits – what does it matter? It’s all Greek to me.
Alexander got to work on the list, while I sat there in anticipation, wondering about the words I would read. As I watched him write, I studied his face for any inclination to what he might be thinking. Occasionally his brow would furrow in concentration, like he was trying to remember something, but his mild expression revealed nothing.
Minutes went by, every one of them seeming like an hour. I tried not to peek at what he was writing, but after a while, my nervous energy was replaced by impatience.
How many kinky scenarios can there possibly be?
I was about to say something, when he abruptly put the pen down and tossed the list onto my lap.
“Happy reading,” he said, his expression wary.
I gingerly picked up the paper, terrified of the words that he had written.
You told him to write it down – just read you chicken!
I looked down at the list and began reading his perfectly printed letters.
Impact Play:
Spanking, Whipping, Caning, Flogging
Bondage:
Rope, tethers, cuffs, scarves
Partial body restraint (hands in front or behind, feet bound, spreader bars, etc.)
Full body restraint (standing with wrists tied to ankles, hog tie, furniture binding, etc.)
Suspension
Gagging (Gag balls, etc. but nothing that will impact the ability to breathe – I will not participate in any sort of asphyxiation or edgeplay)
Collaring
“Holy crap! I don’t even know what some of this stuff is!”
“Did you finish reading?”
“Not yet – I’m still trying to absorb the fact that you want to beat me black and blue!”
“Krystina, I would never, ever cause you physical harm. I already told you that if at any point, you didn’t like what I was doing, you’d only need to use a safe word and I would stop. Now, please finish reading,” he said impatiently.
Enhancements:
Toys - Vibrators, nipple clamps, genital clamps, anal beads and plugs, Ben Wa Balls, etc.
Ice, Stimulation lubes – hot, cold, numbing
Wax (I’ve used it before, but would prefer not to – we can discuss)
We can discuss! We will be discussing more than wax!
Other:
Masturbation
Oral sex
Anal sex
Threesomes
Nudity
Role-playing
I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes full of disbelief. I could never do this stuff.
He’s out of his mind. Over the top, mad as a hatter, crazy.
I took another long swig of my drink, the contents stinging my throat.
“What is this stuff?” I asked, swirling the last remaining drops of the potent liquid around in my glass.
“It’s a tawny port.”
“It’s gross,” I said.
“I can get you something else if you’d like.”
“Oh, no – this is working just fine,” I told him, then tossed back the rest of the liquid encouragement.
“Talk to me, Krystina. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“That you are certifiably insane.”
CHAPTER 23
Krystina’s eyes were impossibly large in her lovely face, and I could sense her frayed nerves. I knew that she was nearing her breaking point before I even had the chance to really push her. I was so close, but her lack of knowledge kept getting in the way.
She thinks I’m a lunatic.
I was scaring her, and now a crossroad had presented itself. I had to ease her fears, or I’d risk her walking away from me forever.
The entire situation was not only new for her, but new for me as well. I’ve never taken on a regular Sub before. All of my exploits had only been a one or two night fling, having never wanted anything more than that. But here Krystina was, sitting there wide eyed and confused, her perfect skin begging for me to take all the time in the world to kiss and explore every inch of it.
The mere idea of her leaving caused a feeling of dread to descend upon me, although I wasn’t sure why. I only knew that I wanted her to stay.
“Do you want to leave?” I asked.
“No, of course not. I’m just trying to grasp…all of this,” she said hesitantly.
I tried to mask the feeling of relief that washed over me.
Good. She wants to stay. Keep the dialogue open.
“You know you can ask me anything that you want,” I offered. “I think we’re beyond keeping barriers now. I’ll give it to you straight.”
She cast her gaze down and began to fiddle with the hem of her snug cotton shirt. I knew she had a question that was balancing on the tip of her tongue, and I waited patiently for her to ask what was on her mind. I could only pray that she kept her questioning to the subject at hand, and avoided any prying into my past.
“Have you done this stuff with a lot of women?”
Shit.
The question was unexpected and potentially dangerous. Although it was a fair one, I was curious as to why it was a concern to her. I had to be careful with the answer, because one question could always lead to another.
“There have been a few,” I evaded.
“That’s not exactly giving it to me straight, Alex,” she said sarcastically. Normally I would be offended, but I found her ability to call me out refreshing and I told her as much.
“Cutting through the BS to discover the truth. You really are a breath of fresh air. I’m not used to people being that way with me.”
“So? Have you?” she pushed.
“Yes, Krystina. I have.”
“How long have you…well, been into this sort of thing?”
Careful now…
“You make it sound like I have a disease, Krystina,” I laughed, slightly uneasy with the possibility of where this conversation could lead. “In all honesty, I’ve had these interests for years. It’s just who I am.”
End it there. She doesn’t need to kno
w the why.
“Is it easy to find women that like to do this stuff?”
“It’s not too hard. The club scene makes it pretty easy, actually,” I admitted.
“Clubs?”
“Yes. There are clubs throughout the city, discretely hidden of course.”
“What do you mean? Like a secret society of some sort?” she asked, pinching her nose up in confusion. She made me laugh, her innocence easing the tension that had settled in my shoulders.
“Krystina, this is real life. Not the DaVinci Code. I mean regular clubs. They’re just not open to the general public, which makes it easy for me to maintain anonymity. A membership is required, and they don’t advertise. Generally, the whereabouts of these sorts of clubs travel strictly by word of mouth.”
“Oh, I see,” was all that she said. Her brow creased, as if she were trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.
I may have skirted around any further probing into my background, however Krystina wasn’t that naive. I was being as honest as I could be, but she knew that I wasn’t giving her everything. I could only hope that what I did give her was enough, and that she’d be accepting. Because from where I was standing, we were not moving ahead. She had yet to consent to taking the next step.
She looked down at the list and began reading it over again, picking it apart line by line. Minutes stretched on, the silence maddening.
She’s going to keep asking questions. I shouldn’t have put it all down in black and white.
My patience was running thin. I was failing. I thought I could teach her, but I was proving to be inept. Either we would navigate through this together, or not at all. I had waited long enough.
“I should have known better,” I snapped, irritated with myself for allowing this to go on for so long. “I wrote it all down because you asked me to, because you’re unsure. But, obviously, this is not working. From now on, we do this my way. Come with me.”
I stood up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up from the couch.
“Where are we going?” she asked, obviously startled by my abruptness.
“To my bedroom. I want to show you something. And don’t worry. I promise not to touch you – yet.”
I led her down the hall towards the closed door of my bedroom. With each step that we took, I could feel the pulse in her wrist drum faster and faster. Her palm broke out in a cold sweat. She seemed genuinely terrified.
Her fear caused an ache to pull at my chest. I did not want Krystina to be afraid of me, and the only thing I could do to erase her fears was to show her.
Reigning in my impatience, I reminded myself to be gentle with her. The internet had planted too many false notions in her head, and it was my job to prove that there were other ways to my world.
Just take it slow. Wait for her acceptance.
When we reached the door, I paused before opening it. I turned to her, released her hand, and brought my palms up to rest against each side of her face. I had initially planned to offer words of assurances to her, but as soon as I had freed her hands, they began twisting together near her waist. Instantly, my cock hardened, and I had to fight the instinctive need to drag her to my bed and tie her to the rails.
What is it about those damned fidgeting hands that makes me want to fuck her senseless?
I ignored the throbbing in my groin and focused on the task ahead. I couldn’t afford to screw this up just because my dick had a mind of it’s own.
Patience. Restraint. Finesse.
“I need you to keep an open mind, Krystina. Can you do that for me?”
I saw a lump move down her throat, as if she were attempting to swallow her nerves. Her eyes were indecisive, and I had a fleeting thought that she might bolt on me. On impulse, I pulled her close. Folding my arms around her, I held her flush against my body and pressed my lips down to mold against hers.
When I pulled away. I knew my eyes were pleading.
Don’t run. Not after I worked so hard to get you here.
And in that moment, whether it was because of my kiss or the beseeching gaze that I cast upon her, I saw her indecision change into something else. She suddenly looked determined.
“I can’t make you any promises, Alex. But I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking for, angel.”
****
I was overwhelmed with anxiety at the mere thought of seeing Alexander’s bedroom. I didn’t know what to expect behind the closed door.
A dungeon perhaps? Maybe a cell full of manacles and chains?
But when he opened up his bedroom door, it looked nothing like a dominator’s pleasure lair. The room was actually very normal looking, with modern decorations placed tastefully about the room. Strategically positioned recessed lighting subtly illuminated the space, giving it a warm glow, despite the fact that the walls were painted a dark stone gray. I began to breathe a little easier.
Like the rest of the penthouse, all of the furniture was sleek and contemporary in style. However, my gaze was drawn to the bed, as it stood out from the rest of the room. It was a showcase piece and nothing like anything I had ever seen before. It was covered in a black satin bedspread and was similar to a four-poster bed, except it wasn’t made of wood. The framework was black metal, molded into an intricate tubular design. Sheer black curtains hung down from metal rings, giving the bed a slightly sinister look, yet managed to maintain an alluring appeal. A mirror took the place of a headboard. The entire effect reminded me of a plush concert stage set without the flashing lights.
Alexander watched me carefully, assessing my every reaction. I could almost see him trying to cut through the layers to get inside my head.
“What is it, Krystina?”
“Well…your room, the bed – it’s very modern.”
“Do you know what this bed is?”
“No. Should I? I mean, the mirror is a little kinky, but I suppose one would get used to it after a while.”
“This is a bondage bed. Here, let me show you.”
He walked towards the bed and reached to the right of the top rail. He unhooked a latch of some sort and lowered a bar down to the opposite corner. He moved over to left side and repeated the same thing. The bars formed a large “X” at the foot of the bed.
“This is a saltires cross, also known as a St. Andrew’s Cross. It’s probably one of the most commonly used pieces of bondage equipment.”
I swallowed nervously. When he had moved the bars to form the cross, small metal loops were revealed. I didn’t see them when the bar was fastened upright, as the intricate scrolls of the beds framework had camouflaged them. They ran the entire length of both cross sections. My imagination ran rampant.
“What are the little loops for?”
Instead of answering, he pulled me towards to the newly formed cross. Moving behind me, he gently pulled my arms up over my head, resting my wrists against the top portion of the X. His hands slid slowly down my arms and to my waist, causing a tremor to run through me. He leaned in closer and I could feel his breath hot on my neck.
“One day I’ll have you tied to my cross, Krystina,” he whispered in my ear. “And the metal loops are what I will use to secure your cuffs.”
My breath caught in my throat and my heart started beating double time as I waited to see if he would do as he suggested. But instead, he stepped away from me and moved to the far right corner of the room. I lowered my arms and backed away from the cross, thankful and disappointed all at the same time. While the thought of being bound to a cross had surprisingly aroused me, I wasn’t sure if I was quite ready for that.
Alexander stood near a settee, his expression inscrutable.
“Are there more metal loops hidden in that chair?” I half joked.
“This is a spanking horse, or a variation of one, also custom made to blend in with the bedroom furnishings.” He slid the settee away from the wall and turned it so that I had a view of the backside. The back of the chaise revealed an angled plank with a narrow pad
ded bench along the bottom. It reminded me somewhat of a church pew. “Once you become more comfortable with submission, I will have you will kneel on the bench and lean forward over the back. I can choose to either leave your arms free, or restrain them to the legs of the furniture.”
He pointed down toward the legs of the chair.
More clandestine loops.
He didn’t wait for my response, but moved to a door in the opposite corner of the room. I thought it might have been a closet or a master bathroom, but then he pulled a key out from his pants pocket.
“Wait here,” he told me, before opening the door and disappearing inside. I tried to peer inside, but it was too dark and I couldn’t quite see. When he returned, he was holding a variety of objects. One of them, I knew for obvious reasons, was a whip.
“I’m not sure if I’ll be too keen on the whip, Alex,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“It’s not a whip – it’s a flogger. And don’t be so quick to judge,” he said, seeing my facial expression. “Feel it. This could only inflict pain on you if I allow it.”
I took hold of the flogger that he held out to me. He was right. The braided strands felt like silk against my fingers as I ran them across my hand. A quiver of excitement ran through me at the thought of Alexander running this softly over body.
Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad.
“What’s that?” I asked him, feeling a little bolder as I handed back the flogger and pointed to the long metal bar that he held in his other hand.
“This is a spreader bar.”
I looked at the cuffs on each end of the bar.
Large enough to wrap around my ankles.
A tightness formed in my belly as I envisioned myself laying on Alexander’s covert bondage bed, with cuffs around my ankles, spread wide for him.
“Krystina, please stop your hands from fidgeting or else I’ll end up reneging on my promise not to touch you.”
Heart of Stone Page 22
