The Dom stepped into the circle of light. His face was shadowed by a fedora. All she could see was the
edge of a smooth jaw. In his trim, elegant suit with the hat shading his face he looked like a celebrity
hiding from photographers.
The brim of his hat dipped a bit as he looked her over. Anna could only hope what he saw pleased him.
She was lightly muscled and toned—she worked hard for this body—but that didn’t mean he’d like it.
Maybe he preferred larger breasts, or more curves. Maybe he liked girls with darker skin who wouldn’t
bruise as easily.
He circled around behind her and took a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking at
the ceiling and the pattern of stars represented there.
“What’s our letter?” he whispered.
“A,” she replied. His hold on her hair tightened. “A, Sir,” she repeated, louder this time.
“And what do you think is on our list, sub?”
Anna licked her lips. She had the first letter of the alphabet—lucky her.
“I don’t remember what’s on the list, Sir.”
He released her and walked away. From somewhere in the dark a whip cracked against the floor.
Anna whimpered at the implied threat. “I don’t remember, but I can guess, Sir.”
Silence.
“Anal,” she said. “Anal would be on there.” She shivered. Anna wasn’t an anal virgin by any means, but
she didn’t have the same level of experience as many other subs did. She considered it foreplay. Anna
never really felt satisfied unless a session ended with a good, hard pussy-fucking, but she knew there
were Doms and subs who would do nothing but anal.
He returned, holding a dark blue velvet bag in one gloved hand, the crop in the other. Setting the bag
down, he got out a pair of scissors. Anna knew what was coming. She spent more on lingerie in a
month than some people did on their mortgage payments.
The Dom stroked her naked right breast, then pinched her left nipple through the material of her corset.
He undid the strap over her ribs, and started popping open the front closures of her corset. Anna was
surprised—she’d been sure he would cut it off, but instead he opened it down the front and pulled the
fabric free from behind her back, tossing it to the side. He ran the tip of the scissors lightly down the
center line of her body, then flipped it in his hand and rubbed the curved handle against the mound of
her sex.
Anna jerked forward, gasping at the sudden spike of pleasure. She hadn’t been expecting the touch,
didn’t have time to think—only react.
He chuckled lightly and she glanced up. The warm chuckle was exactly the kind of response Master
Jensen would have had and for a moment her gaze narrowed, examining the Dom, but it wasn’t Master
Jensen. He was shorter and broader than this Dom. His legs brushed hers as he refastened the strap
across her ribs.
Pulling the leg of her panties away from her hip, he snipped through the fabric with the scissors, then
repeated the action on the other side before tucking the scissors back into the velvet bag. Her panties
clung to her, stuck to the wet flesh of her pussy. He pressed the fabric into the crevice of her sex with
his fingers, then lightly stroked her clit.
“Sir, I’m going to come,” she gasped after only a few moments. She was too wet, too ready—she
couldn’t control herself, couldn’t delay the pleasure.
“No.”
He pulled the fabric away, lifting it to his face and inhaling before casting it aside. She was now naked
except for her garter and stockings. Lifting the crop, he used the tip to flick each of her nipples, then tap
the mound of her sex—both of which were things she loved.
Tingles of pleasure and anticipation rippled through her as he stepped back. She wanted him to do it
again, to strike her most sensitive and vulnerable places with the crop. The Dom stripped off his jacket,
throwing it aside with none of the care the fine garment deserved. Next went the tie.
The Dom removed the hat, and with a flick of his wrist, sent it spiraling off into the darkness of the
Orion room.
Anna gasped.
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