BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Mae kept her gaze on Master Xavier’s shoulders as they passed through the halls and courtyards of Las Palmas. The surprised
glances she’d endured this morning when the other members saw her marked ass and unusual attire—or lack thereof—was
nothing compared to the looks they were getting now.
People actually stopped and stared when they saw Xavier coming with Mae one step behind him, naked except for the thick
collar and breast binding.
The library was one of the public rooms of Las Palmas. It was always open, and anyone was welcome to spend time there.
Dominants, Masters, and Owners could book the small circular stage for demonstrations or to use when putting their sub on
display. There were bookcases along one wall, but instead of books, the lighted shelves displayed various BDSM equipment,
some new, some antique. There was an L-shaped bar in one corner, with usually a submissive or two behind it playing bartender.
Cocktail tables clustered near it were made of massive wine barrels supporting round glass tops. On the far side of the stage
from the bar was a Spanish-style tiled fireplace. Plush rugs and floor cushions were folded and stacked in baskets on either side
of the hearth, while several comfortable couches formed a half circle facing the empty fireplace. The tufted dark-leather couches
with rounded backs and arms were all the perfect height to have someone bent over them.
The dining room was next door, and when they entered the library there were a few people at the pub tables with plates of food
catered by a local restaurant. The occupants were an eclectic mix of people—ranging both in age and how they liked their
BDSM. An African American Domme had her feet propped on the back of her submissive, who was on her hands and knees.
Beside her an older Master sat with his sub cuddled against his side.
Before now Mae would no more have knelt to be used as a foot rest than she would have jumped off the roof. She didn’t judge
people who chose that kind of submission, but she didn’t want it for herself. But now she found herself looking at the kneeling
woman with greater understanding. She didn’t want to do it, but she understood it.
Xavier put a hand on her back and guided her over to the bar area. One of the tables had been taken apart, the wine barrel
turned on its side and placed on braces. With the stabilizing pieces under it, the top of the barrel was at waist height.
Mae was experiencing a strange foreboding. Xavier stopped beside the barrel and patted the top. Mae laced her fingers
together, looking nervously between him and the people at the nearby table, who were watching with obvious interest.
“No, Red. Look at me.”
She jerked her attention back to Xavier.

“Sit up on the barrel.”
She kept her gaze down, though she couldn’t lower her chin very much, as she backed up against the barrel and with a little
jump sat on the curved top. Nerves were making her breathe hard, which made her more aware of the binding around her
breasts, which in turn made her wet.
“Spread your legs, Mae.”
She whimpered, scared and frustrated. She wanted to be back in a private room with him. Though she had no problem being
naked and played with in public, and had been up on the library stage several times as part of demonstrations, she doubted he’d
brought her here to fuck her until they both passed out from pleasure, which is what she’d been hoping for.
Xavier fisted his hand in her hair. The instant he touched her she calmed, even as his tight hold made her scalp tingle. Mae
spread her legs, tucking her heels along the edges of the barrel. Her desire to be fucked melted away in the heat of a different
desire—the desire to submit, to be dominated.
“You should enjoy this, Mae. It’s time for ‘being serviced.’” Xavier released her hair. “I’m going to bind you to this barrel. Your
pussy will be exposed and available for anyone who chooses to service you. You will be both blindfolded and gagged.”
Mae couldn’t stop the shudder of combined arousal and horror that shook her. “Anyone can touch me?”
“Yes, Mae. Nothing in your hard limits or checklist prevents that. You have your safe word, if you need it.” Xavier laid his hand on
her thigh, fingers inches from her sex. “However, you have permission to come. That should please you.”
“It does, Master, but I—” I want to come because you’re touching me. I want you to be the one to release me from the prison of
need you put me in. Mae wasn’t brave enough to say what she was thinking. She’d already made a fool of herself once this
morning. He’d told her that he expected her to be good, be obedient, and she would be both. “Thank you, Master Xavier.”
He nodded once. “Lie back.”
Xavier positioned her so that she was on her back draped over the barrel. She grabbed each wrist with the opposite hand, letting
her arms dangle.
“Bend your knees, spread your legs. I want everyone to have easy access to your pussy.”
With her legs bent, Xavier positioned her feet so they were on the very edges of the barrel. After a few other adjustments he
crouched beside her. Mae lifted her head slightly so she wasn’t looking at him upside down.

“Now I’m going to bind you in place. I am not going to use safety restraints. I want you to experience true bondage.”
“Heavy bondage?” she asked, remembering that from the checklist.
Xavier’s lips kicked up into a devastating smile. “No. I wouldn’t call it heavy bondage. This one can count for light bondage. We’ll
get to the heavy stuff, but you’re not ready yet.”
“Yes, Master.”
Xavier held up a handful of pale blue, flat rope. “This is nylon strapping. It’s the same weight and density of what’s used in
shipping tie downs.” He took a small section and wrapped it around her already linked hands and wrists, leaving the tips of her
fingers exposed. “I’m going to wrap it around each of your calves and thighs, just like this, then nail the strapping directly into the
wood barrel. Do you understand?”
What she understood was that once he was done with her Mae wouldn’t be moving, wouldn’t be able to get away. She
whimpered.
“Are you afraid or aroused?”
“Both, Master.”
“Good.”
A crowd gathered to watch as Xavier started weaving the strapping in a figure eight pattern around her thighs and ankles,
starting at her thigh, then looping between her upper and lower leg to circle her calf, and crossing back to again wind around her
thigh. When her legs were encased from mid-thigh to hip, and mid-calf to ankle, Xavier tied off the strapping with a simple knot,
then nailed the trailing ends into the barrel. Mae jumped at the first ringing sound of hammer striking nail, and the barrel vibrated
under her with each blow. She raised her head when he was done, looking at the elaborate bindings, which were expertly done,
creating almost a woven pattern. With her legs spread the whole width of the barrel, her pussy was on complete display.
Master Xavier was examining her—bound and vulnerable, body exposed and accessible. He traced the outer lips of her sex, his
eyes seeming to gleam behind the mask. The sight of him calmed her even as it heightened her arousal.
“How do you feel, Mae?”
“Scared, Master.”

He pinched the lips of her sex together and rubbed them over her clit. “Is that all?”
“No, Master,” she gasped. It was as if every nerve end in her pussy were extra sensitive. For one wild moment she thought she’d
come from that simple touch alone.
“Are you ready to be serviced?”
“No, Master.” She didn’t think, just answered.
“No?” Xavier released her pussy lips and Mae whimpered. “Explain.”