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important: You must
never speak until spoken to, except to say ‘Yes, mistress.’ Do you
understand?”
    He would have laughed, but the sound of the
whip stopped it dead in his throat. “Yes, mistress.”
    “Take a step toward me.” After he did so, she
stroked her hand over his cock. He sucked in a breath and shuddered
as a bit of semen charged from his testicles. He groaned with
pleasure.
    She released him. “Under no circumstances are
you to have an orgasm unless you first ask my permission.”
    His balls ached. “Yes, mistress,” he said
through clenched teeth.
    She began circling him. “You’ve done very
well, pet,” she said, sliding her hand over his backside. When she
was facing him once more, she leaned in and gave him a small kiss
on the mouth. An almost uncontrollable urge to dive into her hit
him like a right jab to the solar plexus, but the sound of the whip
slapping her palm, jerked him back into their role play.
    “What is my name?”
    He had to think a second. “Mistress
Domnonea.”
    “Now, pet, you’re going to be making a lot of
noise in a few minutes and we must establish a safe word. Something
that lets me know when you’ve truly had enough. Capish? ”
    His heart hammered against his ribcage. A
lot of noise? Eyes tripping down to the whip again, he somehow
managed to say, “Yes, mistress.”
    “Why not ‘diamond’?”
    He smiled. “Yes, mistress.”
    “Tell me the safe word.”
    “Diamond.”
    “What is it?”
    “Diamond, mistress.”
    “And once more?”
    “Diamond.” He was getting the hang of this
pretty well, he thought.
    “Good.” She stroked his ear with her index
finger. It sent a lightning bolt of electricity directly to his
dick. He couldn’t breathe for a second.
    “You may look at me now.” His eyes traveled
up her leather-clad body to her face. “How do I look?” she
asked.
    “Nice, mistress.”
    She slapped her whip against his buttocks. He
flinched reflexively, surprised and relieved when it didn’t
actually even sting.
    “Nice? No, no. That won’t do. Tell me again,
how do I look?”
    He swallowed. “Sexy, mistress?”
    This time the whip whacked his thigh. “You
didn’t say that as if you meant it. Again: How do I look?”
    Okay, tell her the unvarnished truth. “Mistress Domnonea, my cock has been like granite since the moment
you entered the room in that pornographic but provocative number. I
love your ass. It’s round and lush and I want to bite it. Your
breasts, the way they’re nearly falling out of that top, makes me
want to suck hard on them. Your face is beautiful—especially that
mouth. It’s made for giving a man pleasure. I want nothing more
than to touch you, devour you, and fuck you.”
    The creamy skin on her chest turned pink, so
he knew he’d gotten to her with that, but he had to hand it to her,
she never went out of character. Leaning forward, she slid her
tongue across his lower lip. “Good, my pet,” she whispered against
his mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”
    His brain froze. He nodded.
    “I repeat, do you want me to touch you,
pet?”
    “Y-yes, mistress. Very much.”
    “What do you want me to do to you?”
    “I want you to suck my cock, mistress.”
    “No, pet, the answer is: ‘whatever you want,
mistress’. Say it.”
    He swallowed the panic. “Wh-whatever you
want, mistress.”
    She smiled at him. There was more tenderness
than decadence in her gaze. It calmed him a bit. “Who does your
body belong to?”
    That stumped him for a moment, but then he
smiled, proud of himself. “ You , mistress.”
    “Good, pet.” She twisted her finger in the
tie to his—her—g-string. “Take these off.”
    Holy hell. Was she really going to do
it? Integrity and excitement had a righteous row inside him.
Excitement won. “Yes, mistress.” He was bare-assed in under a
second.
    “Now, walk over and face that wall over
there.” She indicated the expanse next to her closet.
    He looked again at the whip,