“Yes, sir.”
I raise an eyebrow, and her expressive eyes widen.
“Yes, Master,” she says quickly to correct herself.
“At the end of the weekend, I’m going to release you from that collar,” I tell her. As she opens her mouth, presumably to protest, I place my finger over her lips. “Then we will talk openly. We’ll decide then if you want to put it back on or not.”
“If I put it back on,” she asks, “does that mean I’ll stay here, Master? Will I stay here with you and not go home?”
“If you put it back on, this will be your home.”
She’s pleased with the answer.
I lead her to the kitchen, and she cooks for me. I let her decide what to make, interested in what she will prepare without prompting. It takes her some time to decide—she second-guesses herself as she removes something from the refrigerator and then replaces it again only to choose something else. I can see that this is an area where she will need to be pushed. She needs to be able to make some decisions on her own without hesitation.
“I wouldn’t have bought it if I didn’t like it,” I remind her as I sit at the breakfast bar and watch.
“Yes, Master,” she responds. “Of course.”
She finalizes her choices and prepares a delicious meal. I stroke her hair as I eat, providing her with bites from my fork. As I’m finishing, I notice that she keeps looking up at the counter. There’s a small, silver bowl with some of the candy left over from the office Halloween party—fun-sized Snickers and Butterfingers.
“What is it?” I ask.
Yvette nods at the candy bowl.
“Do you like Butterfingers, Master?”
“I do,” I say with a smile. “Why do you ask?”
She blushes and looks away.
“They’re my favorites, Master.”
“Are they now? I’ll have to remember that. I’m going to take a shower now. When you’ve finished cleaning up from lunch, meet me in the playroom.”
The shower relaxes me and helps me focus. I think about the scene I want to create with Yvette, and I’m still keeping it simple for now. At this point, I need to trust myself as much as she needs to trust me. I’ll build on it as we move forward.
I pull on my jeans and smile as I think about the bowl of candy. Before I go to the playroom, I return to the kitchen and take a couple of the Butterfingers and slip them into my pocket. She’s waiting for me, posed beautifully in her submission to my will, the collar around her neck, sparkling in the candlelight. It excites me immediately.
Moving next to the large bed, I place the candy near the candles on the nightstand. I don’t want them melting in my pocket, and I plan to have her on the bed today. I take out several strands of nylon cording and lay them out on top of the black sheets.
“Come here, pet,” I command. She crawls over to me and kneels at my side. “Hands up above your head.”
I wrap each of her wrists, test the tightness, and coil the rope into a knot between her hands. I leave a loop at the top and then coax her onto the bed. I restrain her wrists by the loop in the rope to a release clamp attached to the headboard.
“Are you comfortable, pet?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Any tingling?”
“No, Master.”
“If you start to feel any tingling or numbness, tell me immediately. You don’t need to use your safeword unless you want to be released. Just tell me which hand or foot is bothering you. I’ll make the adjustment.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”