Page 17 of S is for…

Laney hadn’t reminded him that the purpose of the game seemed to be to get them to try new and different things, though the words had been on the tip of her tongue.

Finally, the other women were both bound and suspended, furniture removed, thick mats in place.

Master Morton turned to her.

Laney kept her gaze submissively lowered.At the start of the scene, she’d been kneeling at his feet and Master Morton had touched her head, his fingers firm and warm.Once his fingertips had brushed against the nape of her neck, and she’d had to stifle a gasp.Her hair was up in a bun, per his request, and having the sensitive skin of her neck—the nape, the sides, the spots under her ears—exposed made her feel surprisingly vulnerable.

She liked it.

Laney decided to be bad and looked up, watching him approach.She stifled a moan of need as Master Morton walked to her.There was something vaguely threatening, and therefore sexy, about the way he moved and even stood.Shoulders back, chest up, his gaze cool and assessing as he looked over her naked body.

Then he picked up a coil of hemp rope, and Laney’s nipples, already hard, tingled with sexual need.

Last night, during their practice, he’d touched her intimately, but not sexually.He handled her bare breasts while creating a chest harnesses, and spread her pussy lips to position rope knots against her clit and vagina.But it had been almost clinical, with no sexual element on his side.

She studied Master Morton as he came closer, wondering if he was ACE.Kink and asexuality weren’t mutually exclusive, and she definitely got the feeling that Master Morton wasn’t sexually attracted to her.

Given that all they were doing was shibari with suspension, there was no reason he had to tell her he was asexual, as there was no need to involve sexual elements in rope play.

Unfortunately, Laney was attracted to Master Morton, though honestly it had more to do with his dominant handling of her than any real attraction.She didn’t know him well enough for that.

“I’ll be putting you in a modified bunny tie with a hip harness.”Master Morton’s words sent a little shiver of need down her spine.

“Yes, Sir.”Laney rolled her shoulders, then stretched her arms up over her head.Bunny tie was hard on the shoulders unless you warmed up the muscles.

Master Morton watched her for a moment, and she couldn’t see his expression well enough—she’d dropped her gaze and was stealing glances through her lashes—to know what he thought.He’d seemed pleased last night when she took the initiative to do rope prep work without having to be ordered, so hopefully he was once more pleased.Maybe even impressed.

Under the guise of a side stretch—arms up, hands together, bending to the right—she snuck a peek at his face.

He wasn’t even looking at her.

Oh.

Master Morton was watching the other scenes, his gaze assessing.

A sinking feeling pulled at Laney and she swallowed hard, reminding herself that he was a rope expert, and neither of the other Doms was as experienced, so he probably felt like he had to play lifeguard.

Maybe she should pretend to drown.

Laney settled back on her heels, with no idea how she would metaphorically drown in a way that brought his attention back to her.Plus, that was topping from the bottom, and she’d always done everything she could to be truly submissive.She didn’t want people to walk away or steer clear of her because she was a “problem sub.”

“Arms, please,” Master Morton said.

Laney held out her arms, shivering when his fingers brushed her skin.

She wanted to jump up and down, shake off this feeling that clung to her.Hopefully the ropes would destroy the aching sadness mingled with a sort of quiet desperation that was making her throat tight.

Therapy had helped her deal with her past, but also given her the words, and the tools, to acknowledge what she was feeling.

Then again, she’d never told her therapist about BDSM, too scared they would tell her Las Palmas was bad for her mental health.

Master Morton’s movements were precise and economical as he worked the bunny tie.When he was done, her bent arms were raised, elbows pointed to the sky, her wrists crossed loosely at the back of her head.Her folded arms sticking up beside her head were the “bunny ears” this tie was named for.Cuffs of rope wrapped around her upper arms, forearms, and chest both above and below her breasts.

“Kneel up, legs spread,” he ordered.

Moving slowly—it was surprising how much having one’s arms out of commission messed with balance—she raised her ass off her heels and then inched her knees apart.

Tonight she wore a bikini she’d actually purchased on orders from a past rope top.The bottoms tied at the hips, and the top was bandeaux style with a tie in the center between the breasts.The long string that tied it together was originally designed to loop around the neck in a halter, but she’d cut the string short and tied it in a bow between her breasts.

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