Chapter Fifteen

“I’m not really all that familiar with BDSM,” is the first thing I tell him, my gaze still on the crop.

I’m not exactly wary of the toy, mind you. I’m mostly curious as to why we’re traveling this path. In my limited experience and snippets of knowledge, I’m aware that there’s a relationship between a dominant force and a submissive one. I figure it has to be developed over time.

Time is neither a luxury for us, nor part of the agenda.

So perhaps it’s just the titillation of us temporarily delving into these roles that arouses Jameson tonight. Another fantasy to explore while the opportunity exists.

As he returns to the bed, he grips one end of the crop and lightly smacks the short, narrow, bendy leather strip against the palm of his hand. That end looks rather flimsy and makes a mere wisping sound as it connects with his skin, indicating this isn’t quite a hardcore or “official” accoutrement that one might find, say, in a dungeon or an adult playroom, where people are quite serious a