BDSM Checklist: A, B, C Chapter 3

“I still think ‘S’ is the scariest.”

The comment brought Anna’s attention back to the present. It came from a black sub, whose name
Anna couldn’t remember, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a glass of water in one hand. She wore
a thick collar and leather bra and panty set. “Spanking, speculums, strap-ons.”

“Stop,” Anna begged, holding up a hand to stop the litany. “I need to keep calm.” Thinking about Master
Jensen was enough to have her wet and needy.

“Are you scheduled to be here this weekend?” Sarah asked.

“Yes. I’m supposed to be here with Master Jensen.” Anna had spent the last few days of her work week
fantasizing about his hands on her body, his breath on her neck, his cock thrusting into her, pounding
her until she couldn’t think.

“Oh, that means that—”

The speaker mounted in the ceiling hummed for a second before a robotic voice said, “Sub Anna.
Orion Room.”

“—you might get called soon.” Mae finished.

Anna froze and time seemed to stand still. She’d been called, not to meet with Master Jensen, but with
a Dom or Doms unknown. Anxiety was a heavy knot in her belly and yet she rose, moving on auto pilot,
obeying the command to go to one of the play rooms. With a nod to the other submissives, Anna rose
to her feet and left the safety of the Subs’ Garden, heading for the Orion Room and the unknown
pleasures and pain that waited for her there.

* * *



It was empty. Anna closed the door and exhaled, shutting herself in the dark opulence of the Orion
room. There were six rooms around the Constellation Courtyard and Anna had played in several of
them, but never this one, which seemed larger than the others. Like all the rooms in this section of the
mansion, the Orion room was a study of dark and light. The walls and ceiling were midnight blue and
set with tiny lights meant to represent stars. She’d heard from the other subs that the constellations the
rooms were named for were outlined in the lights. Anna had never been positioned on her back long
enough to learn if that were true. Columns of light shot up from the floor, and spotlights in the ceiling
shone down onto several play areas. In a place of honor in the center was a St. Andrew’s cross, the
straps dangling loose, the metal buckles gleaming silver.

Anna adjusted her corset and stockings, and then padded over to an empty pool of light. She knelt
there, assuming the waiting position Master Jensen preferred. If she’d been paired with a different Dom
for this insane “game,” she might already be in trouble—every Dom had different preferences for how a
sub should enter the room, how they should wait, and what they should, or shouldn’t, be wearing.
Normally the sub would know all this going in, because the play time would have been negotiated, but
she was trusting Las Palmas, and had to believe that whoever walked through the door would be
skilled and experienced enough to dominate her. Her heart was fluttering in her chest and a shiver ran
over her. She’d never imagined that anyone but Master Jensen would touch her again. She hadn’t felt
this kind of anxiety in years. The feeling was similar to pre-first date jitters, but more powerful. A first
date was nerve-wracking, but usually involved nothing more threatening than a kiss. The first time with
a new Dom meant giving control of body and mind to someone.

The floor was glossy wood, and much nicer on her knees than the concrete in the barn. She focused
on her breathing, taking each breath gently and carefully, noting the way the air felt as it passed over
her lips and tongue. Normally this would be enough to take her in to sub-space, but she was too
nervous. She’d become lazy and comfortable after so many months with Master Jensen. If the
overseers had decided to do this a few months from now she would have been safely bonded and no



one else would have been able to use her—but now she was alone, and risked not only her body and
mind at the hands of an unknown player, but the ire of her Master.

The door opened and the fading sunlight that filled the courtyard streamed in, adding golden tones to
the blues and whites of the room. Footsteps tapped across the wood, and the door swung shut, sealing
her in here with a Dom she couldn’t yet see. She risked one glance at the wall then dropped her eyes.
When the overseers turned what had once been bedrooms into play rooms, they eliminated the
closets, using the space they gained to create viewing rooms sandwiched between the larger play
spaces. Though it was difficult to see anything in the darkness beyond the spotlight, she knew there
would be a large one-way mirror on the wall, which allowed people seated in the viewing room to watch
what was happening, either for their own enjoyment or to protect those inside.

The tips of a pair of glossy black dress shoes appeared at the edge of the ring of light. Anna caught her
breath, holding very still. Not Master Jensen—he wasn’t the dress-shoes type. Anna blinked to dispel
the tears that gathered in her eyes. Up until that moment she’d secretly been expecting her Master,
Master Jensen, to walk in to the room.

Should she refuse to submit? Should she use her safe word, get up and walk out? Anna tensed,
unsure what to do.

The Dom didn’t say anything. Turning to the right, he circled her, staying in the shadows so that all she
saw were his expensive shoes and the cuffs of his black dress slacks.

She could protest, say that she wouldn’t submit for anyone but Master Jensen.

He stopped in front of her and took one step forward, bringing everything up to his chest into the light.
He wore a perfect black one-button suit with a crisp white shirt and thin black tie. His left hand was
tucked into his pocket, pulling the side of his jacket back. His right hand was encased in a black leather



glove. He pointed to her with the first two fingers on his right hand then tipped them up. Anna stared at
him, not sure what she should do. It was the first time she’d failed to instantly obey an order in years.

After a moment of silence the Dom walked away. He stepped into the light, this time holding a riding
crop and a pair of cuffs.

They were symbols, items so quintessentially linked to BDSM that when she saw them Anna
remembered why she chose to submit, and what that submission meant. The overseers were right—
her relationship with Master Jensen had made her complacent. Surrendering body and mind to gain
sexual and emotional fulfillment had kept her sane. It was dangerous to forget that she didn’t just enjoy
being mastered—she needed it.

She wouldn’t flee, wouldn’t protest being dominated by someone new, because though her emotions
were involved with Master Jensen, she was a true submissive. She’d given Las Palmas power over her
body and choices, and she would obey.

Anna took deep slow breaths letting go of her questions and worries. Her heart clenched, and there
was still part of her that was crying out for her Master, but she was well trained, and would obey as she
should. After a few minutes of practiced breathing she was calm, her body warm and ready for a
Master’s touch.

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m yours to use as you see fit.” Her words hung in the air. Though his shoulders and
head were still in shadow Anna could just make out the movement as he nodded.

Anna bowed her head, waiting for his first command.


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