Page 10 of Tormented Dreams

Spying a free station, Xavier guided Grace toward it, trying to pretend to himself he was no more invested in this submissive than any other he'd ever played with.

"Do you have any objection to negotiating a scene between us?" he asked, nodding toward the open apparatus.

He watched as Grace flexed her shoulders and knew she was considering the state of her current lacerations. Drawing up close to her, he grasped her chin firmly, forcing her to look at him and shook his head decisively. "Whether you would welcome it or not, I refuse to do anything that will exacerbate your injuries. If we play, it will be on my terms and I will decide what you can or can't take," he told her in no uncertain terms.

Her response was automatic and immediate, like she didn't even think about it.

"Of course, Master. As you wish." She dropped her head in deference, automatically dropping into a submissive headspace with the dominance in his voice, ready to submit her body and her trust to him.

Xavier felt his chest swell as the dynamic between them shifted perceptibly and the air around them became electrified with the weight of anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to slow down and do things right, no matter how desperately he itched to get his hands on her.

This was a ritual, a dance in which the preliminary steps were equally important to the outcome of a good scene as the deeds and the performance themselves.

The relationship between a sadist and a masochist was the ultimate power exchange, and the only way it could be effectively engineered was on the basis of complete trust. Trust needed to be built and earned, and when two people came together for the first time as relative strangers, trust was fostered through care and negotiation.

One misstep, and all would be lost. A trust shattered could never be fully resurrected. Not in this particular lifestyle dynamic. It was important to get it right straight off the mark.

Settling himself into a disciplined, familiar headspace, Xavier asked, "What are your limits, Chiquita?"

Grace drew a quivering breath, but looked him in the eye as she replied. He liked that she was direct. "Since I am a masochist, Master, I'm sure you will understand that my hard limits are very few. I do have some, though. I refuse to take part in scat or water sports. I have no interest in pet play or age play. They simply do nothing for me. And I'm not particularly interested in things like mummification, for the same reasons."

Xavier nodded. "Do you have any limits on penetration of any kind or with me inviting others to join in?"

"None at all. Toys, fingers, intercourse. It's all good," she breathed huskily. "I…" she paused, still holding his gaze. "…I also prefer to go in blind. I like not knowing what's coming next. I like the anticipation."

Xavier's eyes bored into hers and a renewed flash of desire leaped through his bloodstream at her admission.

He inclined his head curtly. "Very well, sub. You will use the traffic light system for your safewords. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for all good. I will ask you to verbalise your colour occasionally throughout our playtime. Understand?"

Grace nodded, her breath quickening, but that wasn’t enough.

“I need to hear you verbalise, sub," Xavier demanded, his tone harsh, just as he’d realised she liked it.

"Yes, Master," she replied dutifully, her voice husky and seductive. "I understand."

He'd never specified, but the fact that Grace had chosen to reference him as Master rather than Sir had his already hard cock straining against its confines. It was a long time since any woman had excited him quite as much as this one. However, as experienced a masochist as she was, Xavier had the overwhelming sense that this little pain slut had quite a narrow view of the expanse of a sadist's repertoire. He had an idea that she saw things purely in black and white and was under the mistaken impression that the only way for him to please her to the depth that she required, was if he whipped her bloody.

He planned to pull out all the stops tonight and show her just how wrong she was. His lip curled in unholy glee at the prospect.

"Strip!" he barked out the demand, his gaze never wavering from where it pinned her so the reaction, which had a visible tremor of desire quaking throughout her body, had him almost groaning, uncharacteristically, in anticipation. Damn, but she was incredible!

He didn't take his eyes off her as she slithered sexily out of her outfit, her high heels still on her feet, lengthening her legs and adding definition to her calf muscles.

He had to steel himself not to groan out loud when she stood before him in a pristine, white thong, the purity of which belied the truth of her naughty, lascivious core.

Then she turned and remained facing away from him as she bent from the waist and shimmied out of the tiny scrap of lace .

Magnificent! Xavi knew it was all for show. All for his benefit. It didn't stop his mouth going dry as he thought of all the perverted scenarios he wanted to play out with this wicked little sub. He could keep her chained to his bed every single night because he had enough ideas to keep him going for years. It was that very thought that brought him up cold, nonplussed, and suddenly had him second-guessing his motivation. Had that thought really just crossed his mind?

She must have him more on edge that he realised! He had never once wanted to share his day to day life with anyone. He was a loner and preferred his own space for the majority of the time. He had dreams and desires, of course. But they didn't involve a submissive ever being that close to him. The closest he had come to what he wanted was the six months when he had taken Fluff as his slave.

While that situation hadn't been ideal, the scenario had been very close to what he wanted from his 24/7 slave. Someone who did as he said and followed his instructions…but from the relative distance of her own home, not his.

Now, he watched Grace with hooded eyes as she finally straightened and stood before him, gloriously naked with the shoes still on her feet. It wasn't his usual MO, but he was tempted to have her keep them on.

Surely, this woman did indeed pull him in unexpected ways. He'd need to keep this new development in mind so that he stayed on his toes around her and didn't give in to unexpected whims. Right now, though, he planned to enjoy himself.

CHAPTER NINE

---