Page 18 of The Sadist and the Brat

She bent her head to examine her nipples and her hair fell forward, partially obscuring his view. “No, I think I got it all.”

“Good.” Her hair slid over her skin, pink gold against porcelain. Reminding himself that staring was bad manners—and that he was on the clock—he held out the hair ties he’d dug out of his bag. “Two braids, please.”

Her eyes—hazel now, though he knew they could just as easily appear brown—glanced around as she sectioned her hair and began to braid. “Tell me about the demo.”

“It’s a little bit of everything. A lot of impact and bondage, wax, clamps. Any issues there?”

“No, that’s all fine.”

“What about gags or blindfolds?”

“Fine,” she said, then stopped, her fingers pausing in her hair. “Wait, you’re going to gagandblindfold me?”

“I’m going to demonstrate several ways to do both with common, inexpensive items,” he corrected. “But you won’t stay that way.”

“Oh.” She resumed braiding. “Okay.”

“We don’t have time for a thorough negotiation, but is there anything you specifically want off the table?”

She finished the first braid and wound the elastic around the end. “Minor bruising or light marks are fine, but I don’t want anything heavy or long lasting.”

He skimmed his gaze down her body again. Her skin was pale, but she played regularly enough that it would probably take some effort to raise a bruise. “Do you mark easily?”

She began to separate her hair for the second braid. “My ass and thighs, no. Non-impact zones will bruise easier.”

He nodded, filing the information away. “Any past traumas I need to know about, physical injuries or impairments?”

“I rolled my right ankle a few months ago, and sitting on it still hurts sometimes. Other than that, no.”

He glanced at her feet, pale and freckled with sparkly orange toenails, and made a mental note to put a pair of fuzzy socks in his toy bag. “You won’t be kneeling. Will ankle cuffs be a problem?”

“Shouldn’t be.”

“What’s your safeword?”

“I use the stoplight system. Green for good, yellow for slow down and check in, red for stop.”

“Use them if you need to. I’ll be talking to the audience a lot, telling them what I’m doing and why. I’m going to be checking in with you, but if anything is too much, don’t wait to tell me.”

She began weaving the second braid. “Okay. Is that it?”

“No. I want the audience to see how you react, so don’t be afraid to be vocal.”

She slipped the elastic over the end of the braid. “Can I swear at you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you usually swear at your Dom?”

“Sometimes.” She tossed the braid over her shoulder and planted her hands on her hips. “When it fits the scene.”

“Hmmm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a ‘you can do whatever you want, but there will likely be consequences’,” he replied.

Her eyes went round. “Well, duh. That’s why I do it.”

He fought back a grin. “You know, your mouth is going to get you into trouble one of these days.”

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