Page 10 of Interview with a Sadist
Bree presses her lips together again before forcing them apart with her tongue as she licks her lips. What Bree doesn't know about me is that I’m very attentive. When I’m interested in someone, I pay attention to everything about them, so I notice every little move she makes that may come off as a tick or quirk she has, but there’s more to it. I notice how often she licks her lips, and I see how she moves when I say particular things. Bree is supposed to be an emotionless journalist, showing no concern for me and focused solely on extracting information. She’s not supposed to be so affected by what I say. Nonetheless she is hanging on my every word. I see it. I see her, and there’s much more to her than meets the eye.
“A scene?” she asks with raised brows. “For our readers, what exactly is that?”
“A scene is the act of performing BDSM activities. Not all BDSM acts lead to sex, so in our community, we don't simply refer to it all as sex. There’s more depth to it than that. For example, if my partner simply wants to submit to me, and have me carry out the act of flogging her, then that is all we would do. There would be no sex involved if that’s not what she consents to.”
“I don't understand … again. Why would someone want that?”
“Because impact play can be very therapeutic, Miss Barrett,” I say. “Pain releases all kinds of hormones in the body, and a submissive can feel like they’re unwinding, like they’re letting go of all the stresses in their life, even if it’s only in that brief moment of submission. Now, I’m not a submissive, so you’d get the best information from someone who is. However, the point is still the same, BDSM doesn't have to always lead to sex, so we use the term scene.”
“I see,” she says, before clearing her throat. “I wasn’t aware of that, so I’d say your teaching is off to a good start. Sorry for interrupting with that question. Please continue.”
“No need to apologize,” I reply. “It’s hard to learn without asking questions, and your inquiries let me know you're really interested.”
I pause for a moment, letting that statement hang in the air between us, and I see Bree’s mouth twitch. Try as she might, she can’t hide the fact that her interest isn’t purely professional.
“So, you want to know what a scene would look like for me,” I start again, leaning back against the couch and crossing one leg over the other. “Well, let’s start right here in this office.”
Bree’s eyebrows quickly raise. “Here? You’ve had a sexual experience here?”
“Well, it is a BDSM club, Miss Barrett,” I say, to which Bree scoots back and looks down at the couch.
“I’m aware, but … you’ve had sexright here?” Bree motions toward the spot she’s sitting in, and I fight back a chuckle.
“Don't worry, I’m an extremely obsessive person when it comes to cleanliness. I’ve had everything in here sanitized more times than I could count, so you're good.” Bree frowns, looking back and forth between the couch and me. “I promise.”
After a moment of hesitation, she says, “Okay,” and I begin again.
“I have a distinct memory from a particular scene that took place right here in this office. It began over there at the entrance.” Bree turns to look at the door, as if she’s imagining it all playing out.
“When I walked in, she was already there, waiting for me on her knees like a good girl,” I say, and Bree’s eyes snap back to me, but I don’t stop. “She’d been waiting there for a while, and I knew it because I saw her slip into my office from my seat in VIP, as it was facing the hall. We made eye contact as she opened my door, and I nodded my approval, but I wanted to test her patience. This particular partner of mine was someone I had been seeing for a while, so I knew all of her limits, both hard and soft, and I decided to see how long she’d been willing to wait for me.”
“So, this partner wanted to engage in … ascenewith you,” Bree interrupts. “But you chose to make her wait? Why would you do that?”
“Her waiting was a part of the scene,” I explain. “Through vetting this particular partner, and both of us being in the lifestyle for a long time, the two of us are fully aware of what we’re getting ourselves into. All of this is communicated and agreed to at the start of the relationship, so my making her wait wasn’t a surprise to her. It was something she agreed to a long time before this particular moment. In this lifestyle, Miss Barrett, nothing happens without consent. Nothing. Not even waiting patiently.”
Bree slowly nods, biting her bottom lip as she realizes what she thought about BDSM isn’t the reality of it. “I see.”
“She waited twenty minutes for me,” I say. “Right there in front of that door, on her knees, she waited for me, and when I finally stepped into the room and saw her there, I knew I was going to reward her greatly for being such a good girl for me. I knew she didn’t want to wait, but she did it anyway, and she deserved to be rewarded with the treatment she craved.”
“You mean … pain?”
“Yes,” I answer. “She wanted pain, and I desperately wanted to give it to her, because I knew it would be the greatest pleasure to us both. She’d been patient for twenty minutes already, and I wasn’t going to make her wait any longer.”
ChapterEight
~ NOLAN ~
I closed the door with my back facing her, because I didn’t want her to see the moment I shut my eyes and fought back a grin. Passion infused with excitement filled me up like a cup under a faucet. It started in my feet and quickly traveled through my legs, my torso, and finally came to an explosive stop in my head. I felt giddy, thrilled by the idea of what I was about to do. I was teeming with anticipation, but when I turned around, my demeanor was completely composed. She was only allowed to see the calm version of me—the one that’s always in control. I only allowed her to see her Dom.
Our eyes met when I faced her, and once they did, she locked in. With other submissives, I demanded that they didn’t watch me as I moved around them. I’d made others keep their eyes fixed on a spot on the wall, or look down at their palms in their lap, but with this submissive, I wanted her eyes on me. I wanted her to watch as I took my time choosing the weapons of destruction that I would use on her flesh. I wanted her to fill with anticipation the same way I did when I walked through the door. By the time I touched her, I wanted her heart racing and her pussy dripping puddles.
She sat on her knees with her hands on her thighs, palms up, just as she had been instructed to do. Such a good girl for me. I had half a mind to crouch down in front of her and wrap my fingers around her throat while I kissed her, but I fought the desire back, choosing instead to perform my inspection of her. With her eyes still trained on me, I slowly walked around her, taking in every inch of her skin, noticing a faded bruise on her back and a faint red line on her ass from the last time we’d played. I’d blemished her, marked her as mine, and seeing her unhealed skin was like looking at property I’d used and worn. It doesn’t shine like new anymore because I love it so much that I can’t help but use it often. But, I didn't see her skin as irreparable or used up. I saw it as a brand, a stamp, an autograph that told the world she was mine, even if only behind closed doors.
Once my first inspection was complete, I stopped in front of my gorgeous submissive and stood in front of her. She looked up at me, I looked down on her—the perfect dynamic between a Dominant and his submissive.
“You waited patiently, Little One. You make me so proud of you,” I told her as I crouched down so that we were face to face. From there, I could see the blue in her eyes clearly. I could smell her perfume, and feel the heat rising from her skin as she became more excited with every passing minute. Just being that close made me want to lash out.
“Thank you, sir,” she answered, and I heard the happiness in her voice as much as I saw it written in her eyes. She liked making me proud and loathed the idea of disappointing me. Making me proud came with all the kinky perks she lusted for.
