6
“This is my playroom,” Payne said, opening the door and reaching in to turn on the light. He gestured for Hunter to go on in, and he hovered close behind, watching anxiously to see how Hunter would respond to what he saw.
The playroom was a sizeable interior room in the two-story house Payne had bought and renovated. The house sat on a couple of acres about forty minutes out from Hercules Security headquarters depending on traffic, but Payne considered the commute a fair tradeoff for the privacy.
The playroom didn’t have any windows, but it was well lit, although he could dim the lights if necessary to create a certain ambiance. The opposite wall was dominated by a St. Andrew’s cross secured in a heavy metal frame to make sure there was no danger of tipping over. It had restraint points for wrists, ankles, and waist, and it had wide footrests for extra stability.
To the left was his spanking bench, which also had a sturdy metal frame, and it was well padded with restraint points if they were wanted or needed. On one section of the wall hung his collection of canes, mounted so he could reach the one he wanted with ease. His floggers hung neatly on hooks next to the cane display, and his paddles were lined up on a shelf.
On the right, there were shelves with bottles of lube, a box of condoms, a box of latex gloves, a first aid kit, shears powerful enough to cut through rope, and an assortment of toys he often found useful. Next to the shelves was an antique loveseat he’d reupholstered with a stain-resistant fabric in a deep crimson that reminded him of something from a bordello. He also had a couple of comfortable chairs that were light enough to be moved around the room when he had observers.
There was also a mini fridge where he stored bottles of water and Gatorade, and a fire extinguisher just in case. The floors were laminate, made to look like hardwood but far easier to keep clean and unmarked. All in all, he didn’t think it was as intimidating as some playrooms he’d seen, but Hunter was a complete novice, so even this might be more than he wanted to face.
“You can look around if you want,” he said, tucking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I’m sure you’ve got questions too, so fire away whenever you’re ready.”
Hunter prowled around, taking stock of the entire room. He lingered over the canes and paddles, as though curious, then continued on. After a few minutes, he returned to where Payne stood.
“It’s not as weird as some of the ones I saw online,” he said. “Which is good. I’ve seen the inside of a place where ISIS was torturing soldiers. I don’t think I could be comfortable someplace that looked too similar.”
“I wanted my playroom to be functional but comfortable,” Payne said, taking a seat in one of the comfy chairs, which was currently grouped near the loveseat. “I know people who go for a more literal dungeon look, but that’s not my style.”
“Hm.” The sound Hunter made could have meant anything, but he didn’t run for the door and he didn’t seem uncomfortable. If anything, he seemed neutral, as though reserving judgement for the time being. “I did some research online. From what I can tell, there’s no rulebook for this, right? Just whatever you and I agree to?”
“Pretty much,” Payne said. “Everyone likes different things, so it’s up to the people involved to negotiate what they want and what they don’t want. Since this is new to you, I thought this trial run would be a good time for you to start learning what you like and where your limits are.”
“All right.” Hunter continued to prowl around as though restless. Then he walked toward Payne. “I want to know something first, before we start. Have you ever done this for someone like me before? I mean, someone you aren’t interested in having sex with.”
Payne stalled for time by giving Hunter a wide-eyed look as he tried to figure out how to answer the question without embarrassing himself. “I don’t recall saying I’m not interested in having sex with you,” he said at last, taking refuge in plausible deniability.
Hunter waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll rephrase the question. Have you done this with someone purely as therapy before? I’m serious. I’m trusting you with my well-being, right? I want to know that you know what you’re doing. Since you can’t exactly produce references, I’m going to have to take your word for it, but I’d like to know the truth.”
“Have I done this purely as therapy? No.” Payne spread his hands and shrugged. “But I’ve been an active part of the BDSM community for over ten years. For the most part, I’m a Dom, but I’ve subbed too because I think experiencing the other side of things is part of being a good Dom. I’m also familiar with the effect this can have — the release and relief it gives. The body stores emotion, you know? That’s why some people start crying in the middle of a relaxing massage. But I don’t think a good massage will cut it for you.”
“If only,” Hunter said, his tone dry. He looked at Payne intently for a long moment, then drew in a deep breath. “Okay, then. After everything I read, I think I understand the way this is supposed to work. Maybe it’ll work for me, maybe it won’t, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Then have a seat, and we can discuss the specifics,” Payne said, beckoning for Hunter to join him. “What did you think about what you read? Did anything in particular appeal to you?”
Hunter perched on the edge of one of the chairs. “I tried to keep my reading to the more clinical type studies,” he said. “I understand about endorphins and the link between pain and pleasure, but if you’re asking me if I’d rather you hit me with a cane or a paddle, I don’t know. I do know what doesn’t appeal at all, though.”
“That’s what the trial run is for, at least in part,” Payne said, nodding to encourage Hunter. “We’ll test out different toys and equipment to find out what you respond to best. What doesn’t appeal to you? If there’s anything that’s a hard no, I need to know what it is so we can avoid it.”
“All right.” Hunter paused, watching Payne’s expression. “I don’t want to be degraded or humiliated. It wouldn’t help me. It would only make me angry. I understand about the sub thing and giving you control, but I’m not compromising my self-respect.”
Payne smiled wryly at Hunter’s blunt assessment. He knew people who loved humiliation play, and he’d done it himself a few times as a Dom, but it didn’t interest him as a sub either.
“That won’t be a problem,” he said. “Humiliation isn’t all that high on my kink list either, although yes, I will be in control, and I will tell you what to do when we’re in the scene. If you don’t obey me, then there will be consequences you won’t like. That’s how it works. If you can handle that level of bossing around, we’ll be fine.”
Hunter frowned. “What if I get angry?” he asked. “What if you piss me off so much I try to slug you? God knows there were times when I was a plebe at the Point when I wanted to crush some asshole’s head, and his rank didn’t matter.” His tone became rough. “After freezing the way I did, I realize I’m not fully in control of my actions any more. I can’t guarantee that if you poke too hard, I might not go after you.”
“Hunter, I’ve got thick leather cuffs secured with chains that say you can get as mad as you want with me, but you won’t be able to do a damned thing about it,” Payne said, matching Hunter’s bluntness. “This is why I think BDSM will help, maybe even more than either of us realize. You aren’t in control right now. Your fear, your anger, and your guilt are. But when you’re in this room,I’llbe in control, and you’ll have a safe space where you can feel whatever you need to feel without worrying whether you’re going to hurt me or yourself.” He leaned forward, meeting Hunter’s gaze intently. “Understand? You are safe in here, and whatever happens stays between you and me.”
Again Hunter was silent, as though weighing Payne’s words. “All right, I’ll trust you. And trust you that if I use my safe word, you’ll stop. I had to think about it a lot, you know. Trust isn’t easy for me, and I haven’t known you for long, so I’m taking as much of a chance on you as I’ve ever taken on anyone.”
Payne felt a little flutter in his stomach, both pleased by and apprehensive about the level of trust Hunter was placing in him, and he hoped he could live up to it. He intended to try, because he felt more than ever like Hunter needed him.
“I appreciate it, and I don’t take your trust lightly, believe me,” Payne said. “I want to help you, Hunter. If I can do something to help ease your pain, I will.”
“Thanks,” Hunter said simply. “I guess the other things I’m not interested in are broken bones or stitches. I’m scarred enough already. I don’t think more will improve my looks any.”
