“We will. Sit.”
Man, he was all Dom, wasn’t he? Gwen seated herself and crossed her ankles. Archer leaned back in the crook of the couch. Looking relaxed, utterly at home. His white silk shirt shone in the lowered light, the dark black slacks he wore clinging to his powerful frame in all the right ways. She looked away.
“Before we do the scene, we need to talk. And you need to fill out that form.”
She took the form from her purse, fishing out a pen. After a moment looking over the limitations sheet, Gwen widened her eyes.
“Wow. I’ve seen dozens of these to file them, but I never actually read one.” She looked over the long list of things people might do in any scene.
Flogging. Whipping. Gagging. Her brows climbed at a question further down. “Do I like being hit? Seriously?”
Archer nodded. “Yes, and take it seriously. We may be here for a class exercise, but there are no jokes when it comes to limits. If you indicate on that sheet you’re willing to do something, in the eyes of the club, I have the right to do it to you.”
She twisted her hands, bouncing her knee. “And if I say I don’t like something?”
“If you make it a hard limit, I can’t do it, ever. If you make it a soft limit, I can work with you to make it something I can do.”
When she bounced her knee faster, Archer’s eyes hardened and he set his fingers on it. He barely touched her, but with that look, the single gesture was as affective as if he’d ordered her to stop. Her knee stilled and the strangest heat coiled in her belly.
She stared at him. “If you’re out of practice, you don’t seem like it.”
He smiled, but nodded at the form, silently commanding her to fill it out.
For the next few minutes, he went over some of the activities on the sheet, what they were, how they worked. He told her his limitations, most things that involved anything entering any part of him.
“I still don’t see how anyone can like being hit.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine the idea of attacking someone unprovoked.”
“There is no such thing as abnormal in the BDSM world, Gwen, as long as it’s kept within the rules. Safe, sane and consensual. Getting off on being hit isn’t that strange.”
She looked up from the sheet at him. He watched her too intently. “You… Seriously?”
“Sometimes, yes.” His tone was soft, his eyes dark. “I like when they fight.”
“Oh, you mean like karate? You like fighters.”
His mouth turned up in a wicked smile that made her insides quiver. An odd playful light flashed in his eyes. “Not what I mean, no. I like the adrenaline rush when they fight.”
Gwen scrunched her brows, but he just chuckled and didn’t elaborate. “No more questions from you for now. My turn.”
She finished the limits sheet and handed it to him, but her head spun. The prospect of aggression from him scared her, but why, when he spoke of it in that authoritative, experienced voice, did the idea of his hand slapping her cheek, the sting of his palm across her skin send a frisson of heat through her core? She shook the image off and forced herself to focus on what Archer was saying.
“For the next few hours, the rules of the game are simple. I try to make you mad enough to become aggressive, and you stand up for yourself. The game ends when you are able to respond without thinking about it.”
“Make me mad how?” Her voice shook.
“Gwen, we’ll work through this together, okay? Trust me, I won’t let any harm come to you.”
She nodded. Amazing how easily he reassured her. “What will you do, Master?”
He sat forward on the couch. “Well, for starters.” He took up her sheet. “Why did you put a question mark beside name calling?”
She shrugged. “Because I’ve never really thought about this.”
“Does it turn you on?”
“I can’t imagine why it would.” She shook her head, baffled. Memories of being called names by bullies in school sliced at her thoughts, and she shoved them down. Why would anyone be turned on by that?
“Well, for the purposes of this exercise, it’s perfect.” He reached out, touching her knee with his fingertips again, and his eyes locked with hers. She was bouncing it again. She stilled and flushed.
“Sorry, Master.”
“Here’s the game. We’ll go slow and start with calling you names.”
She stared. “So… you’re gonna spend the whole night here insulting me?”
“Yes. I’ll drill into you, put you down, rip you to pieces. And you.” He tapped her knee. “You’re going to get aggressive, say no, make me stop any way you have to. I’ll keep doing it until you stand up to me. Then the game ends, and I start over, until it becomes second nature.”
Gwen drew a long breath, pushing both hands through her hair. The idea of him being so combative with her unsettled her. It was just an act, role play, but still. Could she handle it? She made herself look at him. The gentleness, the tenderness in his eyes surprised her. His fingers were still there, barely touching her knee. The single touch grounded her, comforted her somehow. Still…
“Master Archer…”
“Sir.”
“Huh?”
He smiled at her confusion. “In the dojo, I’m your sensei. Here, I’m your Dom. Let’s make this easy and keep it separate. Here, use Sir. Outside of scenes, and when not in training, just call me Archer.”
“Right, Yes, Sir. Look… Sir. Nick wasn’t kidding. There’s a reason I’m not a business person. I’m not good at taking control, or at being aggressive.”
“Gwen, stop.” He put his fingers under her chin lifting it up until she met his gaze. She sighed, but silenced. “I’m telling you, you are capable of more than you think. With hard work, if you’re committed to the training, we will get you there. One day, when you need to be able to stand up for yourself, you will.”
She let out a shaking breath. Self doubts and anxiety whirled like a storm through her, but the assurance, the support and encouragement urged her to obey. It gave her hope.
“Ok,” she nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Good. Remember, if at any point, the scene becomes too much, you say “red,” and the scene itself ends. We’re done for the day. If you say “stop”, it will signal to me that you’re fighting back, and that’s what we want.”
“Right.” They were really gonna do this. Damn it. When Ace or her father got confrontational with her, she could barely think to speak. Tear her up, Archer had said. How would she manage this without falling apart?
She stood up, trying to release pent up energy. “Should we get started now? Sir?”
His eyes studied her, and she looked away. His hand snaked out, seizing her arm. When her eyes widened, he loosened his grip and stood. He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her face.
“Not just yet. There are a few rules. In this place, most subs are told to lower their eyes. I want you to look at me until I say otherwise.” Once more, he tipped her chin up until her eyes met his.
Oh, those eyes. Like steel.
“Look away without permission, and there will be consequences.”