Page 80 of Foreplay on Words

“We’ve still got five minutes.” My watch read 9:55. I’d made sure we didn’t get too distracted this morning. Em hated when people wasted his time.

“Come on. We don’t have all day,” Emory urged as Evan, and I walked through the curtain hand in hand.

“Do you have a meeting you didn’t tell me about? What crawled up your ass?” I asked before I realized my slip.

Emory arched an expressive eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“Wow. Already in that headspace, obviously,” I backtracked. “Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Granted,” he nodded.

“Evan, when we’re back here, as this is his space,” I told him quietly, “we defer to Emory for talking and commenting. If you have a question, you must ask respectfully after requesting permission to speak. While honorifics are typically a private matter between a Dominant and their sub, Emory prefers to be referred to as Sir during mentoring sessions.”

Evan nodded and looked over to Emory, eyes cast to the ground.

“Oh, he’s already halfway there, Chase,” Emory smirked as he indicated for us to follow him back into the playroom.

“Unless I expect someone, this door will always be locked,” he explained. “I don’t like to share my proclivities with my photography clients, so we’ll always have time scheduled in advance for these sessions so I can clear my schedule.”

“May I?” I asked Em as I nodded at Evan.

He gave me a short nod and watched Evan.

“This can get a little intense sometimes. I want you to know that you can always use the safe word if something makes you uncomfortable. Emory also uses the stoplight system. If you have any hesitations, feel free to call out yellow or red and he’ll explain things further until you’re comfortable to continue.”

He nodded and grabbed my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles.

“We don’t have to stick entirely to the script either. Ask if a scene we mapped out doesn’t feel right, and we can work out something different. These are just as much your characters as mine,” I insisted, “and I’m open to suggestions.”

Evan bit his lip and nodded again. His eyes were clear, I could tell he was anxious about this, but he wasn’t worried.

“Okay, we’re going to discuss wardrobe first,” Emory explained. “Every Dom or Domme––male, female or otherwise––has a style. It’s like with your regular wardrobe. There are things you like, and not every person will choose the same things.”

“We’ll start with male submissive attire,” he started. “Leather is typically the material of choice, that or vinyl. It depends on if you’re into a fetish style or not. Some men like to wear lace or fishnets. It totally depends on their particular kinks.”

“How do you envision the submissive character, Evan?” Emory asked him, his eyes filled with curiosity.

“We aren’t going to show much directly from the perspective of her male submissive. He’s part of the story, but the narration really follows Frances through her journey as a Dominatrix for hire.”

“Have you thought about what you want her personal style to be?”

“I hate to use this word, but traditional,” Evan cringed. I nodded to confirm.

“So, you’re thinking of a more polished look?” Em speculated.

“I think so,” Evan responded quietly.

“Here, we’ll look on this tablet at a selection of Fem Domme wardrobe options.” He handed the tablet to Evan, and his eyes widened as he looked at it and glanced at me. We scrolled through the options, and then Evan paused the screen on one image.

“You like that one?” I asked him.

“Ye––” He cleared his throat softly. “Yes. This one.”

I had to admit. It was kind of perfect for what we’d envisioned. A tightly fitted lace dress with leather accents revealed enough to be enticing, but it wasn’t racy by any means.

“Order your size, Chase, and have it sent here,” Emory instructed.

Evan’s eyes widened as he looked at me, his cheeks a soft pink.

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