I circled her slowly, the soft soles of my shoes silent against the floor. She stiffened when I moved behind her.
“Hands at your sides,” I instructed.
Her fingers twitched, releasing the hem of the baby doll before falling obediently into place.
My fingers brushed a lock of her hair off her shoulder. She trembled, but didn’t step away. The familiar peach of her shampoo soothed me. Ms. Rhodes always smelled like peaches and whoever this girl was in front of me was, I could pretend for the night, couldn’t I?
Mistress Vivienne had dressed her exactly to my specifications.
White.
Not for innocence in the traditional sense but because, inthisworld, she was a virgin. And I couldn’t wait to show her what she’d been missing.
“Breathe, Pet.”
She exhaled shakily, a sound closer to a sigh than obedience.
“Good,” I said again, lower this time. “You follow directions well.”
I stopped in front of her. Her head remained bowed as she’d been instructed.
I traced one finger down her jaw, not a caress, only an assessment.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Her answer came out barely above a whisper. “To submit to you, Sir.”
A slow smile tugged at my mouth. “Then let’s get started shall we?”
I watched as her fingers itched to grab ahold of the fabric but didn’t.
“Hands,” I commanded.
She didn’t hesitate and raised both her arms up for inspection. I reached over to the table nearby and picked up the fur-lined cuffs. My hand circled her wrist, the one with the binary tattoo, and my cock twitched.
Mira.
It was her.
There would be no pretending tonight. Ishouldwalk away, I’d never mixed work with pleasure, but having her here, all of her assets on display, stripped any restraint I had to threads.
She was here, waiting, trusting me to lead her. To dominate.
My tongue swiped over my bottom lip as I carefully fastened the cuffs around her wrists, checking to make sure they were snug but not too tight. She gasped when I stepped forward, raising her arms above her head. I didn’t miss her resting her head on my chest as I secured her to the chain hanging from the D-ring in the ceiling.
I stepped back, enjoying how this position pushed her breasts together.
“Your safe word, Pet?”
Her chest heaved but she stayed still. “Red, Sir.”
Good Girl.
I picked up another item from the table and knelt in front of her, slipping my knee between her legs. “Spread your feet.”
She hesitated. My throat tightened. I cleared it, and she complied, allowing me to secure the spreader bar to her ankles. I moved around her, confirming the position, the spacing, the tension.
“Color?” I asked as my fingers brushed over my tools on the table, cool metal, soft leather, polished wood.
