The Master's Exploits: Night One Read Online Free Page A

straining when I finally allowed them to come. With proper training, I told her, a submissive would actually be unable to climax without my permission.  
    Her eyes were glassy when I finally stopped, and turned the tables on her.
    “So tell me, Madison,” I said, leaning forward in my armchair that was opposite the sofa where she sat. “What’s the one thing you always wanted, that no one’s ever done for you? The fantasy that keeps you awake at night?”
    She hesitated, but not because she was unsure of her answer.
    I waited, patiently.
    “I want to be afraid,” she said, finally, the words coming out in a rush. “Not...not terrified. Nothing like that. But for just one second, I want to be afraid. I want to be unsure of what’s coming next.” Her eyes locked with mine, beseeching me not to judge her. “Every man I’ve ever been with, I always felt safe. Every moment of every encounter, safe . Like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. But when ‘safe’ is the only thing you know, it’s meaningless. And worse than that, it’s boring.”
    She took a deep breath, shifting in her seat. “I don’t want to be un safe,” she said. “But...”
    “I understand,” I assured her, smiling. “And trust me, there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting that.”
    Madison swallowed audibly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice slightly faint, like the effort of unburdening her fantasies had taken something out of her.
    I tilted my head slightly. “Do I frighten you, Madison?”
    Some of the color came back into her lips as she smiled. “A little,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m here.”
    It’s a delicate thing, learning to be at peace with someone else’s fear. When I was younger, I might have scrambled to reassure her. I would have been unable to accept the idea of someone feeling less than one hundred percent comfortable with me. But I’ve learned a lot since then. So I just smiled.
    “What are you afraid of, Madison?”
    Her hands were clutched so tightly, resting in her lap, that her knuckles and fingertips had gone white. “I’m afraid because I don’t know what you’re capable of,” she murmured. As she spoke, her eyes drifted all over my face, my body. Drinking me in. “I really don’t know you at all. I’m afraid you’ll tie me up in a room, blindfolded, and I won’t know where you are, or what you’re going to do to me.”
    I rubbed my thumb and forefinger together, absently. Her eyes locked on my hands, watching the muscles in my forearms move ever-so-slightly. I’d worn my sleeves rolled up. Always do, for a casual date. And it was working. She was picturing those muscles flexing in all sorts of ways, while I fingered her, while I wrapped my hand around her throat, just enough to remind her who was in charge. While I worked and knotted the ropes around her delicate wrists. She was imagining everything.
    “Do you use safe words?” she asked, finally, her voice very faint. She cleared her throat.
    “Sometimes,” I said. “In my scenes they’re seldom necessary.”  
    “What do you mean?”  
    I interlaced my fingers loosely, letting them hang between my knees as I rested my forearms on my thighs. She was watching me carefully as I spoke. “I mean, as far as I’m concerned, ‘no’ means ‘no’ and ‘stop’ means ‘stop.’ If the play is going to involve a ‘no’ that doesn’t mean ‘no,’ then that’s negotiated beforehand. Safe words are necessary. But I only play like that with submissives who ask for it.”
    She looked a little bemused.   “I thought this was all about you being in charge.”
    “Only when someone asks,” I said, smiling. “I don’t wander around the grocery store giving orders.”
    “Too bad.” She was grinning. “I’d like to see that.”
    “Trust me,” I said. “When I’m in charge, you’ll know.”
    And with that, tension crackled in the air again. Her lips parted, eyes darkening as she tried to imagine exactly what I meant