“Then there’s Kendra,” Abbie said. “She rejects the term submissive for herself, and that’s cool with Dylan. She describes herself instead as a sexual masochist.”
Lainey was quiet a moment as she processed all the information being thrown at her. Maybe labels didn’t matter. Who cared if she called herself a submissive or a masochist or just a girl who sometimes liked to walk on the wild side?
“Hmm,” she mused aloud. “I don’t really know what the heck I am, but I have to admit, the scene with Cooper last night on that bondage table was pretty intense. But it was just, what did he call it? Sensory play. There was no impact play—no erotic pain. The idea of letting him spank or whip me is pretty scary.” She hugged herself as she visualized herself bound to that St. Andrew’s cross in the bedroom she’d slept in the night before, Cooper behind her with a big, scary flogger in his hand.
Yet, in spite of her fear, her nipples perked at the image. She thought about that sudden, sharp smack between her legs when she’d been about to come while tied down, and the memory made her shiver.
“But it’s a good scary,” Abbie offered, breaking into her thoughts. “That’s written all over your face, Lainey, and reflected in your body language. You aren’t horrified by the concept of erotic pain, like the typical vanilla person would be. You’re scared, yeah. But you’re also excited by the prospect. That’s a pretty significant clue about your orientation, if you can get past that fear.”
“Don’t stress over whatever it is you’re feeling,” Maya added, her expression kind. “You don’t have to define what you are or are not at this point. Do what feels right, and let your instincts be your guide. Your heart already knows what it wants—and what it needs.”
“Easy for you to say,” Skylar interjected with a snort. “You’re a born submissive, through and through, Maya.” She turned to Lainey. “Not all of us walked as simple a path, trust me.” She picked up a glossy leaflet from the floor beside her and held it out. “That’s why I brought this along for you. It’s not comprehensive by any means. Just a little something to jumpstart your brain. Look it over when you have a chance. Might be helpful.”
“Thanks.” Lainey took the leaflet. The cover consisted of a beautiful photograph of a woman kneeling so her forehead touched the ground, her golden hair spread all around her, her hands outstretched before her. Above it in bold red letters it read: Six Signs You Might Be a Submissive.
“That’s a beautiful picture,” Lainey offered. “Is it you?”
Skylar grinned. “Guilty as charged. Master Caelan took that picture.”
“The title’s funny,” Lainey added, grinning.
Skylar shrugged. “Sometimes humor makes things easier to digest. Like I said. It’s nothing earth-shattering. Just food for thought if you’re feeling confused.”
Lainey’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw a text from Cooper.
“At the tiki bar, waiting for the sexiest girl on the island.”
“That’s Cooper,” she said, unable to suppress a delighted grin. “Thanks for the coffee and all your great advice,” she added gratefully. “You guys are the best.”
As Lainey left the building and walked along the beach toward the tiki bar, she perused the pamphlet.
Think you might be a submissive, but can’t quite make the leap?
Here are a few telltale signs to help you decide:
You feel both excited and peaceful at the thought of giving yourself completely to another;
The idea of pleasing someone turns you on, especially in regard to sexual service;
You find yourself instinctively sacrificing your own well-being/comfort for others;
You’re strong and in control during your day-to-day life, but you shiver with lust when your man throws you down, places his hand on your throat and orders you to obey;
You fantasize about being tied down, spanked, slapped, even whipped, the lines between pleasure and pain blurred;
The horsewhip action in the 80’s film 9½ Weeks got your juices flowing, or you found yourself fantasizing about working for James Spader in the film, Secretary.
Humor aside, the words definitely gave her pause. Maybe there was something to what her friends had been saying. Maya’s comment especially resonated with her.
“You don’t have to define what you are or are not at this point. Do what feels right, and let your instincts be your guide. Your heart already knows what it wants—and what it needs.”
She saw Cooper seated at a small table near the bar, looking better than any guy had a right to. She had to admit, she was definitely looking forward to figuring out this D/s thing.
~*~
Cooper’s cock tingled in appreciation as Lainey approached. She looked so fresh and pretty in her spaghetti-strap sundress, her strong, tanned arms and legs bare, glints of red and gold in her lustrous brown hair.