Page 31 of Carnal

It just means I must be a switch.

Pull it together.

I take a deep breath and turn to see my backside in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly. I look hot. One thing I've always done is take care of myself, so I may be thirty-seven, but I could pass for late twenties. I wrap my matching tool belt-garter around my waist and secure my fishnets. I go to my nightstand and select which items I want to have on me.

I step out of the bedroom, head toward the dungeon, and freeze before I get to the door, leaning against the wall. My stomach's become a roller coaster, continuing to confuse me.

I can't go in there like this.

I'll make him wait longer. It'll add to his vulnerability.

I don't look at the room as I pass it. I go to the kitchen and glance at the time. It's only eleven in the morning, but I need something to calm my nerves. Glancing around the room, I grab a red-blend bottle of wine. I open it, pour a glass, take several sips, and pace the condo.

The large windows have frost on them. Snow falls so thick, I can't see the buildings across from me or the street. Even though I have the heat on, I shiver, then reprimand myself for this sudden inability to be the confident Dominatrix I am.

I drink several large mouthfuls, focusing on the different tastes of cherry, blackberry, and a hint of smoke. My heart rate begins to return to normal.

This is your one chance. Who knows what will happen after we do this.

He doesn't want this.

He agreed though.

I need him to reiterate he's okay with this before I start.

Don't blow this. Do your thing.

Music! He needs to hear music.

I go to the surround sound controls and hit the playlist I previously created. The first song that plays is "You Never Forget Your First Dominatrix" by Dominatrix.

So appropriate,I think, smiling and beginning to calm further. The lyrics begin, and I step two feet over to the video screen. I hit another button, and the playroom comes into view. To my surprise, Tristano is kneeling and keeping his gaze on the floor as instructed. I assumed he'd disobey while I was gone, but he's not.

Good little sub.

He's not little.

Jesus, he's beautiful.

Several songs play while I study his mesmerizing body and decipher my thoughts. There are so many things I've thought about doing to him over the last few months. Now that he's here, vulnerable, and at my mercy, it all feels overwhelming.

I turn the heat up a few degrees in the playroom and wait. Within a few minutes, sweat beads on his skin, turning him into a glistening work of art. I down the rest of my wine and check myself out in the mirror again.

It's now or never.

I flip the switch for the hot-pink strobe lights and go into the playroom. More confidence grows with every step I take. I hit a button on the wall, and restraints lower from the cage. The song ends, and a new one comes on with a faster beat and men screaming in pain. I'm sure Tristano's never heard anything like it. He always plays the opposite when he's in charge, which is women crying out in agony. I study him for several moments to add to his apprehension.

He stays still, but his chest rises and falls faster. Everything about it sends adrenaline shooting through my veins.

Tristano Marino is finally going to submit to me.

I crouch in front of him and reach for his chin, grasping it and tilting his head up. His hardened dark eyes are ones I've seen from many men who I've convinced to allow me to do this to them. I state, "You've obeyed well."

"What now, Pina?" he asks in a flat tone.

A bead of sweat rolls down his cheek near his ear. I lean forward, lick from his jaw to hairline, then murmur in his ear, "I was going to say I'll let you come later, but you just disrespected me, so you'll have to re-earn it."

He cocks his eyebrows. "Oh? How so?"

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