She’s so gorgeous, and full of awareness that new subs almost never have. A woman who could easily be a Domme and is choosing something else. I’d be asking her a lot of hard questions about that, except I felt her breathe beside me as she watched the wax play.

I felt her yearn.

I stand up and pull the end of my brown leather chaise away from the wall. It’s a handy piece of furniture, well padded with no back and only a low armrest. Excellent for playing the cello and other nefarious uses, although I only realized the latter about three minutes ago. I eyeball the angles. I want no distractions in this scene, at least not the kind that come from knees and elbows accidentally meeting drywall. I walk around my living area, picking up an armful of the fat pillows my very vanilla interior designer insisted were necessary to my wellbeing.

Today, she’s absolutely right.

I keep my movements slow, deliberate. Sliding the basic Dom scaffolding into place. I control the clothing. I control the furniture. I control the timing.

I walk back over to the end of the chaise and make two stacks of two pillows each. Then, still crouched down, I motion to Chloe, who’s tracking me with watchful, curious eyes.

I’m about to add anxious to that mix.

I pat the arm rest. “Bend over, ass in the air, knees on the pillows.”

She stares at me.

It takes every ounce of willpower I’ve developed in the last twenty-six years not to grin. “Now, Chloe.”

My voice gets her feet going, which soothes my Dom nerves. She may not look like a sub, she may not act like a sub—but if Dom voice works on the woman I love, then she’s got at least some wiring that goes along with her desire to be pushed into surrender. I stand as she approaches the chaise, moving the power from my voice into my stance.

Her breath is catching in her throat, little panting gasps that are like no sound I’ve ever heard from her. I check in with the rest of her body. She’s not aroused yet—but she’s not far away.

The next part will either get her there or convince her this is the worst idea she’s ever had.

I arrange the pillows under her knees. I want her comfortable—she’s going to be here for a while. The chaise nicely tips her ass up without putting too much of a curve in her spine. I move her limbs, reposition her head, using touch to soothe and arrange. Letting her get a feel for having someone else entirely in charge of something as simple as where her arms rest and where her hair lies. I’m tempted to leave it in a tumble down her back, but that’s a really poor idea with what’s coming next. I stroke her cheek. “I’ll be right back. I need to gather some things.”

She’s dazed enough she doesn’t protest.

I walk slowly until I’m out of her line of sight, and then I burn rubber, because leaving a newbie sub alone is the height of stupid. However, it’s a necessary stupid. Chopsticks don’t offer many bondage options. Fortunately, my closet does. I grab a bag, still packed from the demo I did at Fettered a couple of weeks back, and mentally run through the contents. I dive into a second bag and pull out a small collection of toys for sensory play. I don’t do candles, so that part of this scene is going to be very much winging it.

Assuming I get back to the couch before my sub totally wigs out.

I nearly run to the corner of the hall and then resume my measured pace as I reenter Chloe’s realm.

Her eyes widen as she catches sight of the black bags in my hands. I drop them at the edge of the chaise, down below what she can see. Good for easy access, and good for frustrating someone who likes to have all the information. Protest rises in her eyes, but she manages to lock it back down.

A sub already wise enough to be restraining herself.

I reach into my bag for the long, soft strips of leather that can be adapted to almost any bondage setup. Some Doms like precision tools. I prefer flexibility. The legacy of spending a lot of years playing in a different city every week. I hold up the balled leather straps where Chloe can see them.

This time her eyes don’t widen. They glow.

I stroke a hand down her back. There are things she needs to hear before I shut down her words. “If you get scared, if you get a cramp, if you get an itch between your shoulder blades, I need to hear about it.” That’s more latitude than I would normally give a sub, but it’s the only way I know to keep dangerous and new from turning into catastrophe.

She nods quietly.

I hold on to the end of one of the balls and drop the rest over the side edge of the chaise, grinning when it cooperatively rolls out from underneath. I haven’t lost my touch—or I have sloping floors. Either way, I’m going to be able to get this done without floundering around on the floor, which isn’t the Dom image I’m shooting for right now.

I have balls two and three rolled out under the chaise before Chloe’s eyes get any more focus back. I reach for my shorter straps. We’ll start with the parts that are easiest to adapt. Wanting to be tied up and handling the actual experience of forced immobility are two very different things, and I need to let Chloe tiptoe in before I toss her headlong into the deep end she’s asked for.