Page 77 of S is for…

“Your pussy is wet and puffy.I bet you’d like something in it, filling you.”

“Yes, Master, please, please.”

“You’re going to be my good girl and wait.I know it’s hard being so needy, but I like you like this.”

He took “needy” and redefined it from something unacceptable and bad, to desirable and good.

“I do need you,” she begged.

“I know.But I’m not done playing with you and prepping you.”His gloved finger traced the stretched ring of her anus, then slipped inside, stroking the sides where there was space between the top and bottom of the speculum.

It was an acute, unfamiliar sensation, and goosebumps broke out on her arms.

“Master, I…I don’t know if I like this,” she whispered.

He paused, and a second later there was a click, the speculum shrinking inside her.He pulled it out in one smooth motion.With it gone, her thoughts weren’t focused on the strangeness, and she realized what she’d done.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I said I didn’t like it.”

“Were you lying?”

“No, Sir.”She wasn’t going to make an even bigger fool of herself by calling him “Master” again.

“If you weren’t lying, then why are you sorry?”

“Because I didn’t use my safe word.I should have if I wanted you to stop.”

Peter gripped her ribcage, helping her stand.She swayed on her feet and he maneuvered her so she was in front of the chair, then eased her down to sit.He dropped onto the ottoman across from her, his hands hovering but not touching her any longer.

“Do you need the scene to end?”he asked.

“No.It was weird and I felt good at first but then…” She stumbled to a stop, and shrugged helplessly.

“Laney, you’re allowed to say you don’t like something, and it doesn’t have to be a safe-word level problem.I can’t guarantee that I’ll always stop if you don’t like something, but I want you to tell me.”

She relaxed, shoulders dropping.“You probably think I’m?—”

“Say ‘stupid’ and I’ll put you over my knee and this time I’ll use my belt.”He was dead serious and sounded deliciously dangerous.

Laney pressed her lips together, staring at him with wide eyes.His expression softened, and he shook his head gently.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He studied her.“You called me Master before.Why?”

In her current submissive headspace, lying to him was an anathema.“Because it felt right.”

Peter smiled, but didn’t say anything.

What did that smile mean?

Before she could spiral, Peter was tugging her off the chair, and instead perching her on the end of the ottoman.He buckled cuff garters around her thighs just above the knee, then spread her legs, then kept pressing, until she felt the stretch in her inner thigh muscles.

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