Page 10 of S is for…

“Always.”

“What’s our letter?”

Master Vo smiled, spread her legs even wider, and bent his head to her pussy.

Chapter3

Peter and Diann

Peter strippedDiann out of the strap bodysuit, trying to touch her bare skin as little as possible, though that was difficult.

And probably stupid of him to try.

A few people had filtered into the dining room and were watching, though it was casual viewing, the equivalent of someone watching TV while they prepped or ate dinner.

Diann made a small noise when he fastened a collar around her neck.It was necessary for the scene, but still, doing it felt too familiar.

“It’s just an anchor point for the spine strap and anal hook,” he told her coolly.

“Yes, Sir.”

With the addition of that “Yes, Sir,” she’d spoken a total of thirteen words to him since she’d arrived in the dining room.

The other eleven were: “You’re my partner?”, “What’s our letter?”, and “My safe word is sky.”

He’d informed her that they had the letter S and would be doing multiple checklist items that started with “serving.”

He’d waited, giving her a chance to say something, or discuss, but Diann had been cold and calm, almost statue-like.He knew what she wanted and needed, knew why she craved these things, and how to satisfy them.And yet he couldn’t read her, couldn’t puzzle apart what she was thinking in this moment.

That small sound when he’d buckled the collar was the only overt reaction she’d had.She was passive under his hands, like a doll as he connected a short length of leather to the back of the collar, smoothing it down her spine.He cuffed her wrists and pulled her arms behind her back, attaching the cuffs to the back of the collar with two short chains with clips on each end.

“Flex your arms,” he commanded.

She did, raising her hands several inches before letting them drop back to the point where the cuffs arrested any movement.She’d always had good flexibility in her shoulders.

Her wrists were positioned just above the small of her back, awkward enough that it wasn’t comfortable, but not so extreme that she couldn’t remain like this for the rest of the evening.

She used to?—

He had to stop thinking like that.He shoved aside the uneasy feeling born of their too-limited pre-scene interactions.

Peter spread his hand gently through her curly hair, cupping the back of her head, then made a fist, pulling viciously on her hair.Diann hissed out a breath and arched back towards him.

He pulled harder, knowing that she both liked, and needed, this treatment.

He held her that way for a moment, leaning forward to look over her shoulder at her pretty bare breasts which jiggled with her heavy breaths.

Still holding her by the hair, Peter bent her forward, and then kept going, forcing her to bend over the table and pressing those pretty breasts to the glossy wood.

He kept his hold on her hair tight, not letting her turn her head, so for a moment her forehead and nose were pressed to the table too.Then he relented, releasing her hair.For a moment she stayed exactly as he positioned her, before slowly turning her head so her cheek rested against the wood instead.

A sort of behavioral muscle memory made him want to kiss her forehead and nose, soothe her and…love her.

She would fucking hate that.

The more emotional distance he kept between them the better.

Peter turned away, digging first in his kit, and then heading to one of the storage drawers in the dining room, when he couldn’t find what he needed.

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