Page 23 of Red Velvet

"Pull up your dress," he repeats. "You have five seconds."

My heart jumps, and while my overactive mind recoils at his demand, my core responds with a warm invitation. Obeying his words is easy and hard at the same time. I hook my finger underneath the hem of my short dress and pull it up until it gathers just below my belly button, exposing my bare ass to him. Within an instant, I feel even more vulnerable than I did before, already at his mercy.

And he's not even touching me yet.

"Good girl," he breathes right behind me, his lips close to my ear.

The words send a shiver down my spine.

I want to hear them again.

"Now listen to me," he continues, ignoring my slight flinch when he cups my ass cheeks with his big hands. It's a gentle touch, nothing possessive about it as his palms barely grace my skin, but it feels all the more powerful.

"You're probably wondering what those would feel like on your pretty ass, aren't you?"

I nod quietly, bereft of words.

"I'll show you, if you're a good girl for me," he promises. "Just do what I tell you to. And if I ever want to take anything from you that you're not willing to give, you'll say 'red.' Understand?"

I know what a safe word is, but I never thought I'd ever find myself in a situation where I'd need one.

I nod again.

"I need more than that," he insists. "When I ask you something, I need to hear your voice in response. I want you to say, 'yes, sir.' Understand?"

"Yes," I hurry to reply, failing a mere moment after he'd told me what to do.

He squeezes. Hard. His fingers tighten around the soft flesh of my ass, pinching with a force I didn't expect.

"Yes what?"

"Uh… yes, sir!" I correct myself, squirming under his painful touch.

He lets go immediately, leaving me with a racing heart and a throbbing behind. I'm breathing heavily, a strange dizziness taking over when he places his hands on my shoulders from behind.

"I'll be nice today, because it's your first time," he says in a soft voice. "You even get to choose what I should use on you. Isn't that nice?"

I nod, adding a "Yes, sir" just in time.

"Pick one." He points at the array of whips and floggers in front of us. "Tell me which of these you want to feel."

My eyes travel along the wall, wide in wonder. I've never been presented with anything like this. I've never even seen these kinds of utensils up close. They vary so much—different sizes, different number and length of tails, even the material isn't the same on all. Most of them appear to be made of leather, but there are some that have tails made of rope. Some have knots, others don't.

"I'm waiting," he urges. "If you don't decide, I will. And trust me, you don't want that."

I want to tell him not to pressure me, but I know this isn’t the right time and place to do so. Even without a clear layout of some kind of contract or instructions, I know the power paradigm has shifted between us. He's in command, and my only job is to obey.

I reach forward, aiming for one of the smaller floggers entirely made of leather, with rather thin tails about as long as my forearm. The knots at the end of the tails don't seem nearly as frightening as some of the others I've seen.

"Good girl," he praises.

He turns me around so I face him with my core still exposed, holding the flogger in front of my partially naked body like a futile shield. His gaze locks on mine with purpose, as if trying to find something behind my shy look. If it’s approval he’s seeking, it seems like he finds it just a few seconds later, stepping aside and stretching his arm in a wide gesture toward the bench at the other end of the room.

"After you."

I pause for a moment, my grip around the flogger tightening as I approach the bench with small and timid steps.

Why didn’t he take it from me? Is he going to let me try it first?I don't think I could ever hit anyone, including myself, with this, even if I was asked to.

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