Page 33 of At Her Will

“You’re not Christian.” His gaze moved to her pentacle.

She stiffened, but his tone and body language held no censure. “There are beautiful truths in that faith,” she said. “But Wicca was the path where I felt the Divine’s presence the most strongly, where it spoke to me in a way I wanted to answer. You can straighten.”

The breath he drew in was unsteady. When he turned, and she stepped up to him, her breasts brushing his chest, her hand dropping, she knew she’d find the erection beneath his work clothes. She stroked it, enjoying a Mistress’s right.

“Veracity,” he said low, but he didn’t stop her. One hand gripped the chalk tray.

“I have the right to touch what’s mine when I want to do so. Is this mine?”

His expression was tight with self-restraint. “Yes. I want it to be.”

A little unsettled by how strong the desire to voice that had felt, she reined herself in and stepped back. The heat of him through his clothes seared her empty palm.

He read her intent to take a breath, and as he pulled himself back in line with it, he touched her pentacle. “This is a symbol of your faith. Like the cross is for mine.”

“Yes. The four points represent the elements, the top point the divine in all. The circle around it symbolizes the cycles of the seasons. It’s also a reminder of how life and death itself is a never-ending circle.” She closed her hand over it, and he brushed his fingers over her knuckles.

“What is the most important rule in it? Wicca.” He pronounced the new term carefully.

“And it harm none, do as you will. Which I interpret as love one another and respect all life.”

“Like do unto others, the golden rule.”

“Yes. A lot like that. It also believes that any harm we do will be visited upon us, three times over. Not just as a punishment, but as a lesson and a balance, to bring us closer to the Lord and Lady’s path.”

He glanced at the windows. “I better finish that.”

“You’d better. Yes.”

He ran a hand down her arm, then returned to his task. When she sat back down at the student desk, she checked her phone for work messages, and once again enjoyed the view as he worked. The vinegar cleaner smell was sharp but not unpleasant.When he finally spoke again, his mind had returned to their upcoming plans. “What should I wear?”

“There’s no dress code, but any excessively revealing clothing has to be covered outside the club. Inside the club, people wear everything from suits and fancy nightclub dresses to jeans and T-shirts or fetish wear. Leather, latex, costumes. Some may be naked, if that’s what their Masters and Mistresses desire.”

“In front of everyone?”

“In front of everyone.”

“And they don’t have no say in it?”

“They have a say in everything. Everything is consensual,” she reminded him. “The relationship is negotiated up front, altered by mutual agreement as they grow together. That can include what’s called consensual non-consent, where a submissive has agreed to turn over all choices to the Dom, unless there’s a medical emergency.

“They have a way of signaling that, if the Domme doesn’t catch it herself, which she should, but it’s always good to know your sub is looking out for himself as much as you are. Even if you’re also hoping they’ll trust you to move outside their comfort zone into an area you both might enjoy more.”

“All this is tumbling through my head like a dryer full of warm socks.” He finished the last window and turned to her. “I didn’t say it right. What wouldyoulike me to wear?”

Her eyes wandered downward, taking her time. “Jeans that fit the right way.”

“What’s the right way?”

“Not too tight, but I want to be able to see your backside, and get a good reminder of how much cock you’re carrying.” She liked the stain of color the words brought to his cheeks, the spark of fire in his eyes, but continued in a casual tone. “Choose a shirt you think I’d like, but I might have you take it off while we’re there.”

“So you can…show me off?”

As soon as he spoke the words, she detected the resistance in them. Rising, she came to him and rested her fingertips on his chest. “So I can touch your bare skin whenever I wish. But if you’re uncomfortable with being exposed like that, I’ll reserve that as a private pleasure.”

He shifted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—"

“You absolutely should have,” she said. “I told you how I feel about honesty, Rev. The only rule I have about you expressing it to me is that you be respectful. Creativity earns extra credit. I’ll give you an example. ‘Mistress, may I ask that you have me undress only for you, in private?’”

---