“Color, Sutton.”
I exhale, shoulders relaxing at the sound of his now-familiar robotic rumble.
I breathe deeply, trying to steady myself, then finally answer, “Green, Sir.”
“Were youyellowa moment ago?”
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth to keep quiet. Is this a test? How well can the little submissive follow simple instructions?
“I asked you a question and expect an answer.”
I take another deep breath. “Yes, Sir, I think so.”
“Why?”
“I-I thought you left me.”
He hums, then I hear the scrape of his jeans as he approaches me. His hands settle onto my shoulders and I jump at the sudden contact, then relax into his touch. “I promise not to leave you.” Dominus squeezes my shoulders, then adds, “Only a fool would walk away from you.”
I suck in a breath.
His hands fall away.
The sound of his jeans rubbing together with each step resumes and I follow his retreat to the corner of the room.
A drawer opens.
Closes.
Something clicks, loud in the heavy silence.
A lock?
Handcuffs?
My pulse speeds. I know I marked restraints as afive, but now I’m not so sure. With the blindfold in place, would that be too much? Not being able to seeoruse my hands? Handcuffs would mean I’d lose the ability to remove the mask if I get scared—
A brush of something tickles my upper arm and I startle, then shiver from the sensation. It happens again, and I try to focus on the way it feels, what it might be.
The brush of softness moves to the right arm, starting at the shoulder, then moving slowly down to my hand hanging at my side. Soft, delicate… Maybe a feather?
To my left, something crackles and my muscles tense. My body goes stiff as it happens again. The sensation tickling up and down my arm fades away because all I can focus on is that crackling sound. I know it, but—
It happens again and I gasp.
Electricity.
My eyes go wide beneath the mask but I’m still blind.
I swallow hard, struggling to remember if there was a question about electro shock or something similar on the checklist. Shit. I can’t remember.
“Color.”
“Yellow,” I answer in a rush.
“Color,” he snaps.
I groan. “Red, Sir.”
