Chapter 73

Masturbation

Cunnilingus

Fellatio

Swallowing Semen

Vaginal intercourse

Vaginal fisting

Anal intercourse

Anal fisting

“No fisting, you say. Anything else you object to?” I ask.

She swallows. “Anal intercourse doesn’t exactly float my boat.”

“I’ll agree to the fisting, but I’d really like to claim your ass, Anastasia.”

She inhales sharply, gazing at me.

“But we’ll wait for that. Besides, it’s not something we can dive into.” I can’t help my smirk. “Your ass will need training.”

“Training?” Her eyes widen.

“Oh yes. It’ll need careful preparation. Anal intercourse can be very pleasurable, trust me. But if we try it and you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.” I delight in her shocked expression.

“Have you done that?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“With a man?”

“No. I’ve never had sex with a man. Not my scene.”

“Mrs. Robinson?”

“Yes.” And her large rubber strap-on.

Ana frowns and I move on quickly, before she can ask me any more questions about that.

“And…swallowing semen. Well, you get an A in that.” I expect a smile from her, but she’s studying me intently, as if seeing me in a new light. I think she’s still reeling over Mrs. Robinson and anal intercourse. Oh, baby, Elena had my submission. She could do with me as she pleased. And I enjoyed it.

“So, swallowing semen okay?” I ask, trying to bring her back to the now. She nods and finishes her champagne.

“More?” I ask.

Steady, Grey, you just want her tipsy, not drunk.

“More,” she whispers.

I refill her cup and get back to the list. “Sex toys?”

Does the Submissive consent to the use of:

Vibrators

Butt plugs

Dildos

Other vaginal/anal toys

“Butt plug? Does it do what it says on the box?” She grimaces.

“Yes. And I refer to anal intercourse above. Training.”

“Oh. What’s in ‘other’?”

“Beads, eggs, that sort of stuff.”

“Eggs?” Her hands shoot to her mouth in shock.

“Not real eggs.” I laugh.

“I’m glad you find me funny.” The hurt in her voice is sobering.

“I apologize. I’m sorry.”

For fuck’s sake, Grey. Go easy on her.

“Any problem with toys?”

“No,” she snaps.

Shit. She’s sulking.

“Anastasia, I am sorry. Believe me. I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve never had this conversation in so much detail. You’re just so inexperienced. I’m sorry.”

She pouts and takes another sip of champagne.

“Right—bondage,” I say, and we return to the list.

Does the Submissive consent to:

Bondage with rope

Bondage with leather cuffs

Bondage with handcuffs/shackles/manacles

Bondage with tape

Bondage with other

“Well?” I ask, gently this time.

“Fine,” she whispers and continues reading.

Does the Submissive consent to be restrained with:

Hands bound in front

Ankles bound

Elbows bound

Hands bound behind back

Knees bound

Wrists bound to ankles

Binding to fixed items, furniture, etc.

Binding with spreader bar

Suspension

Does the Submissive consent to be blindfolded?

Does the Submissive consent to be gagged?

“We’ve talked about suspension. And it’s fine if you want to set that up as a hard limit. It takes a great deal of time, and I only have you for short periods anyway. Anything else?”

“Don’t laugh at me, but what’s a spreader bar?”

“I promise not to laugh. I’ve apologized twice.” For Christ’s sake. “Don’t make me do it again.” My voice is sharper than I intended, and she leans away from me.

Shit.

Ignore her reaction, Grey. Get on with it. “A spreader is a bar with cuffs for ankles and/or wrists. They’re fun.”

“Okay. Well, gagging me. I’d be worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe.”

“I’d be worried if you couldn’t breathe. I don’t want to suffocate you.” Breath play is not my scene at all.

“And how will I use safe words if I’m gagged?” she inquires.

“First of all, I hope you never have to use them. But if you’re gagged, we’ll use hand signals.”

“I’m nervous about the gagging.”

“Okay. I’ll take note.”

She studies me for a moment as if she’s solved the riddle of the sphinx. “Do you like tying your submissives up so they can’t touch you?” she asks.

“That’s one of the reasons.”

“Is that why you’ve tied my hands?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like talking about that,” she says.

“No, I don’t.”

I’m not going there with you, Ana. Give it up.

“Would you like another drink?” I ask. “It’s making you brave, and I need to know how you feel about pain.” I refill her cup and she takes a sip, wide-eyed and anxious. “So, what’s your general attitude to receiving pain?”

She remains mute.

I suppress a sigh. “You’re biting your lip.” Fortunately, she stops, but now she’s pensive and staring down at her hands.

“Were you physically punished as a child?” I prompt her gently.