Page 4 of On His Terms

“This is the ass you’ve had a difficult time convincing men to spank?”

“Yes,” she said. Then she wondered what the protocol was for addressing him. Sir? Mr. Monahan? Master? Alex? Alexander?

He caressed both her bare butt cheeks.

Slowly, she began to relax.

Other people continued to move through the rooms, and a man stopped to talk to him. He removed one hand and continued to rub her with the other.

This was awful, humiliating. She wasn’t accustomed to being exposed, unseen, completely ignored.

Horrified, she started to stand, but, saying nothing, he pinched her upper thigh.

Though she yelped, she forced herself to stay in position, fighting off her instinct to stand, drop her skirt, and get the hell away from him.

Instead, she drew on the determination that had seen her work two jobs through college. Now, like then, she kept her eyes on the goal.

Eventually, the man moved off. Although he kept one hand on her, Master Alexander still didn’t speak, leaving her with no idea what to do.

Right then, he slapped her left buttock, hard. She cried out, more from shock than because it had hurt.

“You did well for a beginner. Stand, pull your skirt down, then face me.”

As she followed his instructions, her legs quivered. In the last three minutes, she’d had a bigger taste of BDSM than she’d had in the last six months. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Tell me about your thoughts while you were bent over.”

“I felt nervous and exposed.”

“And how did you feel when I smacked you?”

“I was startled, I suppose. And I didn’t like how impersonal your touch was. I could have been anyone.”

“Was it difficult for you to remain in position?”

She reached for her glass of wine and took a deep drink. “Yes.”

“Why?”

The question vexed her, and she snapped her answer. “This isn’t supposed to be an exploration into my psyche.”

“Anyone who engages in BDSM with me opens every part of themselves. It’s your choice.” He shrugged. “Leave at any time.”

Chelsea had spent years shielding herself from criticism, so much so that she rarely shared her innermost thoughts with anyone, even close friends. But this man was demanding access to her emotions, requiring vulnerability that made her shake. Since she had no other option, she opened up a little. “I don’t like to be left out. When you ignored me like that? Frankly it pissed me off.”

“Yet you stayed in position. Why?”

“Because I want you to train me. And I wanted to show you I can do it.”

“Very good. By the way, you have a very spankable ass. It turned bright red with my handprint.”

No doubt the color matched her face.

“Being a submissive is very different from being tied up, wearing a blindfold, or even getting a spanking. What you just experienced is a sample of what my submissives endure.”

Wildly, she wondered if she had any idea what she was asking for.

“Doms typically adore and cherish their subs. Some couples, as you may have ascertained, indulge like you and your previous boyfriends, just with a few more rules and a bit more regularity. They may even use the words Dominant and submissive. To me, submission comes with strict protocols, with service, along with delicate body movements.”

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