Page 86 of Twisted Royals

Well, it seemed the spider might have a little bite left in her after all. “No, we strive for diversity. Let’s change tactics, shall we? Are there any other questions you would like answered before you play tonight?”

That seemed to score a direct hit as I saw her eyes widen again and her tongue come out to wet her lips, setting off my cock once more.

“What’s he like?” she asked, leaning forward.

“He?” Tapping the papers in front of me, I flipped to the fifth page. “It appears that you didn’t list any specifics as to gender, so I have to wonder why you’d think it was a man who’d agreed to play with you.” I glanced up to see her look of disbelief. Turning the clipboard, I tucked the pages behind the one I was referring to. “Would you like to change your answers?”

“Umm…” She stalled, straining forward to read what she’d written, or rather hadn’t written. “I told Jenny… um, Jeanette… never mind. I suppose I might have skipped that page.”

Right, that’s why there was a doodle of what appeared to be a pair of puckered lips surrounded by tiny hearts in the bottom right-hand corner of the page.

“Then by all means, please.” I pulled a pen out of the cup on my desk and offered it to her. I purposefully kept the clipboard on the desk, anchoring the previous pages with my hand.

She hesitated, then scooted to the very edge of her chair and leaned forward to take the pen. She took her time, reading the few characteristics listed before actually making her choices. With her eyes on the page, it was unnecessary to hide my amusement as she practically broke the nib when scratching out both female and multiple partners before drawing not one but two large circles around the word male. She ticked off a few more attributes before looking up.

“Um, maybe I should check the other pages?”

I shook my head, pulling the clipboard toward me. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you just tell me what you want to happen here tonight. And this time, I suggest you don’t let anything that might be a hard limit slip by.” At her look of shock, I added, “You do know what a hard limit is, don’t you?”

She proved she wasn’t as meek as a mouse when she straightened and returned my gaze. “I do. I just thought I’d be going over my choices with my partner. After all, he would be the one who really needs to know what I will and will not do. Unless I’m mistaken?”

“You’re not wrong, but you are a newbie, correct?”

God, please don’t let her tell me she’s a veteran player of BDSM. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t handle hearing that very well.

“Does answering ‘yes’ disbar me for some reason?” she asked, in lieu of answering.

“Not at all, it just allows me to make sure you’re not paired with a man who wishes to do anything and everything he desires with a submissive who may be able to fudge her answers on paper but could suffer true damage if she attempts to lie to her play partner.”

When she did nothing more than open and close her mouth like the fish out of water she was, I threw her a lifeline.

“Mia, have you played at any club in any state, or in any country, before?” If she thought I’d missed that little slip, she was wrong.

She slowly shook her head, unknowingly answering my earlier prayer.

“Okay, then, let me make something perfectly clear. Your partner will be informed of your limits and will negotiate what exactly you’d like to experience this evening since you listed submissive and not slave. My club is a safe place, so you need not fear anyone will take advantage of you once you go down to the floor with your partner. You will be protected by the presence of your Dom and no one will approach you without his permission, nor will he break your trust as long as you are completely honest in what you tell him. ”

She nodded, relaxing a bit.

“That doesn’t mean that anyone who wishes can’t watch whatever scene you participate in?—”

“Aren’t there like private rooms or something?” she blurted.

“Since you’ve admitted you’re new to this, let me inform you that it’s not appropriate to interrupt me when I’m speaking. Do so once you leave this office, and there will be consequences,” I warned, making my tone a bit sterner.

“Con-consequences? What does that mean?” she asked.

Like you don’t know what a consequence is.

The thought was accompanied by a vision of her standing just outside the castle’s side door with her hands on her non-existent hips, fingers clutching her plunder she’d snuck from the cookie jar as she stomped her foot in emphasis while declaring she was a princess and could have as many cookies as she wanted. I almost smiled remembering how Cook promptly applied her hand to the snotty little royal’s backside to remind her that in the kitchen, the hierarchy was completely different. I also remembered that though Marcie had squealed in shock, the sound was muffled by the cookies she’d stuffed into her mouth the second she’d been tucked beneath Cook’s arm. I’d stood there watching cookie crumbs puff out of Marcie’s lips with each swat, rather impressed by her quick thinking to avoid having to relinquish her prize.

The memory was enough to remind me she’d asked a question. Locking gazes with her big indigo-colored eyes, I supplied the answer. “Consequences can be anything from a simple over-the-knee spanking to a session strapped to the St. Andrew’s cross, or as you called it, the “big X-thing,” to have your preferred implement applied to your back.” Ignoring the gulp she took, I provided her another possible scenario. “Or it could involve a fully nude scene including engaging in some sexual service.”

“Se-sexual service? Wha”—she cleared her throat—“um, what exactly would that entail?”

I shrugged, leaning back in my chair to allow her room to breathe. “Exactly what it sounds like. You could be ordered to strip or he might disrobe you?—”

“Not that part, the… the other.”

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