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that the evil sadist within
fought with the Southern gentleman his momma taught him to be.
She’d assured him that her masochist appreciated that, but could he
hit her just a few more times with the cane before the gentleman
made himself known again?
    They’d dissolved into laughter, and the next time
they’d actually planned a scene, he’d shown up in an old nineteen
twenties suit and called her ma’am with every swat of her bottom as
he gave her an over the knee spanking. Yeah, their sex life wasn’t
the norm, but they embraced each other’s quirks, and even though
she’d never said it, she really did love him. From her head to her
toes, no bullshit, love. This is why she didn’t hesitate to skirt
around him toward the hall. Of course, no order was complete
without a quick swat to her ass, which Trevor delivered with
well-practiced precision.
    Ashley released a high-pitched squeak and hurried
toward her bedroom. One step over the threshold and she froze. Ho-ly shit . She couldn’t really get past that thought for a
good minute. Maybe even five. Her room had been turned into an
impromptu dungeon. Floggers, canes, and whips lined almost every
available surface. Those spaces that didn’t hold something that
would cause her the best kind of pain held items that would give
her immense pleasure. Dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, and lube.
Whoa.
    Trevor had obviously been planning this for a long
time. He’d gathered both of their toy collections into one room.
She took a halting step toward the bed and froze again.
    A letter. A note actually, waited for her there.
Printed on fine vellum, it outlined her orders for the next few
minutes in what seemed to be as few words as possible. That was
Trevor for her.
    Use the bathroom.
    Lose the clothes.
    Blindfold.
    Kneel on the bed.
    Using the bathroom before a scene with Trevor was a
given and what he’d left off the list was an enema, but bathroom
was their code word for the icky task. Naked was another given, but
they’d never really done the blindfold thing. Her fear of the dark
had always been a deterrent. Guess the Southern gentleman was out
for the evening.
    Ashley did as instructed. She relieved herself in
the bathroom quickly, took care to make sure she was all “cleaned
out,” and shed her clothes before she approached the bed again. The
blindfold was folded on the end table, and she eyed it warily.
    Her heart rate kicked up a notch the moment she
touched the soft silk. A knot formed in her throat and she pushed
it down. She could do this, would do this, for Trevor. Only for
Trevor. They’d shared fantasies before and one of his greatest
desires was to have her blind and bound for his pleasure…and hers.
Right now, she doubted the whole pleasure angle of not being able
to see. A lot. But at least he wasn’t asking to bind her at the
moment.
    Ashley snatched the tiny scrap of elastic and silk
before she crawled to the middle of the bed. She made sure she
faced the foot of the bed, and the door, before donning the mask.
Mask in place, she sat back on her heels and rested her palms on
her thighs, exactly as he expected her to be positioned.
    She imagined how she looked at that moment. She knew
without looking that her breasts drooped. That’s what came of
having natural breasts, but in a world of cosmetically enhanced
women, she often wondered if Trevor would like perkier breasts
better. Then there was her stomach…it definitely poked out and
drooped. Gross. And her thighs…don’t even get her started on her
thighs. This was what he wanted, though, and this was what he’d
get, chubby fears be damned.
    Ashley licked her lips and prayed she wouldn’t be
waiting too long. Already her body rebelled at being
blinded. Every sound in the house terrified her. Her brain screamed
irrationally that the dark would get her, take her, hurt her.
Everywhere there were murmurs of hate and taunts dogging her. They
were all in her mind, remnants of her childhood, but that