A Hard Bargain by Ashe Barker Page A

triangle between both my nipples and my clit. Still, his words sting a bit and I tell him so.
    Please don’t make fun of me. I know that email was stupid.
    He nuzzles my neck, and despite my little show of prickliness I tingle.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just asking, and I do want to know. Tell me please.”
    I shrug, tilt my head to give him better access and decide to let it go.
    Not much. Mostly it’s just been spanking. And a ruler once, in the schoolroom upstairs. On my bum and then my hands. I hated that—my hands I mean. I use them a lot, but I could hardly move them for days. That Dom invited me to scene again, but I refused. Too scared. And then, a few weeks after that, I emailed you.
    “I see. And how do you like to be fucked?”
    I don’t understand, what do you mean?
    “From behind? Do you like to be on top? Underneath? Against a wall? Kneeling? Standing? I don’t usually take requests, but I might with you. Just this once.”
    I don’t know really. Limited experience, I suppose. From behind seems nice.
    “Seems?”
    His hand stills. Is this it? Is this the moment he decides I really am just too much bother? I start to panic, grab the phone again.
    You promised. You promised me. You can’t go back on it now.
    He takes my chin in his hand and turns my head to make me meet his gaze. He looks puzzled. “Go back on what?”
    I start to type again and he releases my chin to let me see the screen.
    I’m twenty-three years old, and I know what I want. I want you. You promised we could go back up to our room and
    He chuckles again before I can complete my sentence. “Well, aren’t you eager? How nice. Okay, don’t panic, a promise is a promise. And your inexperience is no use to you here. A liability in fact, someone could be clumsy, not realize and get carried away, really hurt you. Since you’ve asked so nicely, I will fuck you, and I’ll do it very slowly, very gently, very thoroughly and very well. I’ll stop short of fucking you till you faint—we really should work up to that more gradually—but you will see stars. And if you say please very prettily, I’ll probably even agree to do it all over again, just to make sure you got the message. That suit you?”
    I turn my head of my own volition this time, gape at him over my shoulder. Christ, what an offer! Then, a little belatedly perhaps, I try for some shred of decorum as I turn my attention back to the phone.
    Yes, thank you, Sir. I think that should do very nicely.
    “Well I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. Sounds like a plan. Now, before I start working on widening your experience in the fucking department, what would you like to do here? Any requests, anything you particularly fancy trying, or will you let me choose?”
    I turn in his arms and point to his chest.
    “Me then. Okay, something—intense—I think. A bit of edge but not too painful. Needs to be memorable though. And maybe a bit of a mind-fuck as a prelude to the body-fuck later. I know just the thing for you. Come on.”
    A mind-fuck? Not sure I like the sound of that. But still, when he stands, turns to me, his hand outstretched, I take it. Modesty abandoned, I get to my feet, naked, and follow him across the room. He leads me over to the dungeon-master, my usual protector. Frank is stationed behind a small desk at one end of the room. His strategic position means he can see everything that’s happening, everywhere in his domain. Nothing goes on here that Frank doesn’t know about and allow. He’s huge and imposing—ex-Army I’m sure, and he rules the dungeon with a rod of iron. But I like him. Frank’s always quite nice to us subs, especially the unattached ones like me. His job here, mainly, is to look out for us, to make sure no one takes anything too far, and that no one gets hurt. I appreciate Frank, his presence, his rules. But I don’t usually parade around in front of him naked. He doesn’t turn a hair though—not that he has much—just