When was the last time she’d been in a private room with a dominant who wasn’t Andrew or a sadistic Domme? Whenever it was, she knew the door had always been left open when during all of those scenes, at her request. She already knew she trusted Michael enough to let him close the door, which made her feel panicked for a whole slew of other reasons.
When was the last time she’d actually wanted to have sex with the person dominating her? Sex was definitely not a required part of BDSM, and Ellie had found it was easier to keep the Doms at bay if she made sex one of her hard limits for the scene. It wasn’t one of her club hard limits because sometimes she did want sex, but those times were more about how long it had been and definitely not about the particular dominant.
But she wanted to have sex with Michael.
Would he even want to have sex with her? Or did he only want to scene with her because she’d been running since the day he stepped into the club and he took it personally?
That’s your anxiety talking, Ellie. If you’re nervous, ask, but don’t build up something in your head without any evidence.
The voice in her head always sounded like her therapist, Dr. Amy Evanko. She’d been going to Dr. Amy for years now, so that made sense.
Not that she was going to ask Michael, because deep down she already knew the answer. It was just… sometimes the thoughts in her head got away from her and came up with all sorts of ridiculous scenarios that had the ability to panic her. Like, actually panic - shortness of breath, rapid heart rate, and gut-churning nausea. Dr. Amy worked with her on talking herself down from the ledge whenever she got like that.
Stopping outside of the door to the School Room, Michael frowned down at her. “What’s wrong?”
This is why she knew he wasn’t just into her for the chase. That just wasn’t the kind of guy Michael was. At least, he hadn’t been in high school, and she hadn’t seen any evidence that part of his personality had changed since then.
“Just nervous,” she said.
The smile he gave her was gentle. “We don’t have to do this unless you want you.”
“No! I mean yes,” Ellie said hastily, stumbling over her words, feeling like a little kid who was afraid her treat was about to be taken away. “I want to do this… I’m just… nervous.” She sighed. She sounded like an idiot. A total newbie. Nothing at all like the confident persona she strove for. “Are we going to have sex?”
The smile on Michael’s face shifted to something more predatory, making her nipples pucker beneath the corset Angel had insisted was now hers. He really was ridiculously hot. It kind of wasn’t fair. All he had to do was smile and she creamed her panties. Add in his sweetness, his protectiveness, and his persistence in reaching out to her (without being creepy or stalkery about it), and how was she supposed to have kept resisting? She wanted him.
“We’ll decide that during negotiations,” he said, opening the door and ushering her into the room with his hand on the small of her back. She swore she could feel the heat even through the corset.
“Negotiations?” she echoed. There was no way he’d skipped looking over her play sheet, which had all of her hard and soft limits on it. Especially since she knew he had to be the Dom who had joined in the scene with Andrew. Maybe he was just trying to make her wonder whether or not he really had been?
Giving her a gentle push towards one of the desks in the first row, Michael moved to the teacher’s desk, standing in front of it and leaning back against it with his arms crossed as Ellie settled into her chair. With her sitting and him standing right in front of her, she could already feel herself settling into a submissive mindset, and it made her feel calmer emotionally, even as her body tingled with growing excitement.
“I’ve already looked over your limits, but I still want to talk about them first, since this is our first scene together,” he said, although one side of his mouth hitched up into a little half-smile when he called it their first scene. Yeah, he was definitely the “mystery Dom” from her scene with Andrew. “You have some unusual limits.”
Immediately, Ellie’s body tensed, the calm she was feeling retreated as she scrambled for the walls which normally kept her from feeling vulnerable. It was a long moment before she realized Michael was still standing there, watching her reactions, and she had to force herself to release her white-knuckled grip on the sides of the desk. She pressed her palms flat against the desk, spreading out her fingers. Tilting her head back, she looked up into his eyes, somewhat defiantly.
He just raised his eyebrow at her.
Damn observant Doms. He was probably reading all sorts of things into her reaction. Maybe even hitting somewhere near the truth.
“I haven’t had anyone complain before,” she finally said, unable to bear the silence and his measuring gaze.
“It’s not a complaint, but we’re going to talk about them,” he said, his tone calm and even.
If she wasn’t sitting in a desk, she might have tried to run then and there. Worse, she was pretty sure he knew it. Which was why he’d maneuvered her into this particular room and this particular situation. He could be on her before she even finished standing up, much less before she tried to bolt. Of course, she could always say ‘Red,’ the club safe word, and she knew he would honor it… but her pride balked at using a safe word just because he wanted to talk.
Especially because her friends downstairs would immediately be all over her the second they saw her, and then she’d have to explain to them why she was back downstairs so quickly.
Realizing she was trapped actually helped, even though she knew that would be strange to most people. Kind of like when she was in bondage. When there was nothing she could do about her situation, when all her choices were gone, she could actually relax.
Still, she couldn’t quite keep herself from sounding rebellious and a little bratty when she responded. “So what do you want to know?
She leaned back against her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world because of the corset, but she’d live. Michael stared down at her, scrutinizing her. Assessing her. Making her want to squirm.
“Let’s start with the soft limits. No need to ask about multiple play-partners, I have no interest in sharing you for this scene. Blindfolds - I’d like to use one today. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes,” she said, relaxing just the tiniest bit. Soft limits were much easier. She’d trust Michael to do any of them. It didn’t surprise her that he was reciting her limits by memory either; she’d have been more surprised if he hadn’t. He was thorough like that.
“Anal play?”
