Page 32 of Magnum, Volume 1

“Oh, wow, this is good,” he said. “Did you use venison?”

“I did, Sir. There was some thawed, and you said I could use anything in the fridge.”

“I did, but I expected you’d use the beef.”

I shrugged but didn’t answer, since he hadn’t asked a question.

After a few seconds, he said, “You may speak, slave.”

“The spices cover up the wild taste of the venison, Sir. You seem to like it more, and you have more of it. I don’t mind it like this, but I’m not a fan of it by itself. Sir.”

He nodded. “For now, it’s your choice unless I give instructions.” He tilted his head. “Normally, you don’t speak unless asked a question during high protocol, but I’d like a conversation with you over our meal, so that rule is relaxed while we sit at the table this evening, but be cautious about your tone.”

I nodded, realized he wanted an answer, and said, “Thank you, Sir.”

A tiny nod, and then, “A lot of Doms have rules about you not fighting them, but I like it when you try to escape, when it hurts so bad you desperately want to get away. I love to hear you beg for relief. I do own wrist and ankle cuffs, but they’re rarely used. It’s not as much fun if you’re tied down. I’d much rather hold you there with my hands, force you to take what I give you.”

He said it so casually, sitting there like the king of his castle while I sat naked, plugged, barely able to breathe. And okay, the last bit is an overstatement, but fuck, I hated the cincher.

And yet, knowing it was his version of a collar was fucking hot.

And maybe hate is too strong of a word, but dislike wasn’t strong enough in that moment.

“Good to know, Sir.” I met his gaze. “Seriously, I’m not really sure what to say to that. Thanks for the insight into you, I do appreciate it, but…” I shook my head. “This is all backward, and I know you’re aware. I’ll deal with it, I am dealing with it, but it’s going against the norms.”

He lifted a brow, and I quickly added, “Sir.”

“How is it going against the norms?”

“Boundaries should be negotiated outside of power exchange, when we’re equals, so I hand power over to you. This is… it’s you taking the power instead of me giving it, but…” I considered my words. “I have a safeword, it’s still consensual because I can stop it, but…” I shrugged. “You said it yourself — this isn’t a negotiation. It’s you dictating the rules and boundaries, and that’s all kind of wrong, but I’m not stopping it.”

He grinned. “Which means it’s working for you, so we’re good, since it’s absolutely working for me. Next question: Have you ever been in a relationship with regularly scheduled maintenance?”

I nodded. “I have, Sir. He started with it every other week, but it was too much, so we went to monthly.” I shrugged. “We only lasted around six months, so it isn’t like I have tons of experience with it.”

“Do you prefer we start it sooner, or later? What do you need?”

I stared at him, then took a bite while I figured out how to answer. I swallowed and drank some tea, and finally told him, “I think my answer is always going to be later, since I know what’s going to happen. I don’t intend to test you and force your hand, if that’s what you’re asking, Sir.”

“If that changes, you should tell me,” he said. “I’m inclined to wait five to ten days before our first maintenance session, but if you need it sooner, I expect you to let me know. If you can’t bring yourself to tell me, write a note and leave it on the edge of the kitchen island.”

“I will, Sir. I don’t intend to need to, but if I do, I will.”

“The note-thing goes for anything you want or need but aren’t comfortable asking for. No promises you’ll get it, but communication is important. You can talk to me about anything, preferably outside of high-protocol, but if you need to say something inside it, figure out how to do so respectfully.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said, “Thank you, Sir.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If you act up to see what happens after you’ve assured me you won’t, things will be so much worse for you.”

I wasn’t sure where to look, and I was ready to change the conversation, so I told him, “You haven’t given me rules about eye contact, Sir.”

“I add rules slowly, but that one’s coming up soon, so we can address it now. I expect eye contact when you speak to me, but otherwise, you’ll look at my chest level when we are seated, and at the level of my cock when I’m standing. If you’re kneeling, you’ll stare at my cock. Doesn’t matter if you can see it or not, that’s where your eyes stay.”

“Thank you, Sir. May I ask another question?”

A grin. “You may.”

“If I need to let you know something when we’re in high protocol, is there a way to ask permission to speak, Sir?”