I lowered my voice and hovered over him. “Don’t think. Just do as you’re told.”
He relaxed slightly and put his hands by his sides and waited for directions.
That’s better, I thought.
“On your knees.”
He complied, and I watched his posture relax into the pose with ease. He was obviously quite used to submission.
“Pull your pants down around your thighs.”
He wiggled out of his rock-star leathers and resumed his position.
“Do traditional safe words work for you?” I asked.
He laughed gruffly. “Green.”
That meant go. I brought my flogger down hard on his ass and he flinched.
“Green.”
“I never assumed you were the kind who liked to be spanked, Mr. Rock Star,” I moaned, immediately regretting how cheesy that sounded. I could hear the opening act’s music pulse through the thick steel doors. I slapped to the beat of the tune.
He grunted. “You have no idea.”
Smack. Grunt.
I gave him a few more quick slaps on each cheek, then flipped him over and began to undo his already half-unbuttoned shirt. A fluorescent green number that matched his bandana. I grabbed the handcuffs and bound his wrists together above his head, like he had hinted earlier. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to cuff him then, it’s just that I wanted to do it at my pace.
I don’t take suggestions from submissives, I wanted to tell him, but that would break the scene. I flicked his nipples and he gasped.
“Strum my strings, baby,” he laughed.
Fuck, not again.
I dropped the flogger and stood up.
“End of scene.”
The handcuffed man protested.
“What, just like that? It’s over?”
I fumed and considered picking up the flogger to actually punish him.
“Do you even have to ask?!”
His long spiky wig shifted to the left and he went from looking insanely sexy to incredibly pathetic. Plus, his eye makeup was starting to smudge.
“Do your research before a scene. You’re pretending to be the drummer. Don’t talk about fucking guitars!”
He fidgeted in his restraints angrily. “Listen, give me another chance. Just let me please you, Mistress Cherry,” he sputtered, frustrated. “I mean, I thought things were going really well.”
I glanced down at his erection, and the fact that my panties were soaked. Yeah, things were going well. Too bad he blew it, I thought.
He continued to whine pleadingly, solidifying my decision. “Do you have any idea how much I bribed the owners of the club to use this room for our scene tonight? Couldn’t you just, I dunno, enjoy the moment instead of getting hung up on the details?”
I snatched the keys from my bag and unlocked the handcuffs with a sad clink.
“When it comes to role-play, it’s all about the details,” I explained, straightening my shoulders. “Dismissed.”
As soon as he was out the door, I grabbed an index card from my purse and began to scrawl out the facts and minutiae of today’s misadventure. When I got home, the scene would be filed away in my dirty little recipe box.