“I like—most particularly in the bedroom—to be in control.”
Lydia’s macaroon began to crumble between her fingers, the fine pink dust showering her bone china plate.
“Are you talking about…you know…kinky stuff?”
“Yes. I suppose I am. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not a sadist. I don’t like torturing people or anything like that. I’m on the milder end of that spectrum.”
“I see.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never really…”
“Thought about it?”
“No. I have thought about it. I’ve never done anything much like that, though.”
“Oh, you’ve thought about it. And what did you think?”
“Bits of it might appeal to me.” She felt squirmy and hot, discussing her sexual preferences in a chic hotel tea room.
“Which bits?”
“Can we… Do we have to talk about this in here?”
“Of course not. But if you come to my room you are placing a lot of trust in me. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Thank you. Shall we go upstairs?” He held out his hand, and Lydia could see that, as in control as he was trying to look, his chest rose and fell more rapidly than was usual for him.
She noticed that her hands were shaking and her knees felt like sponge as she followed von Ritter up the stairs.
She thought about that favourite fantasy of hers, the Saxon warrior spanking her with the flat side of his sword. Was she coming close to realising it? Not that von Ritter was a Saxon warrior, though he could conceivably come from Saxony. Oh dear, her thoughts were running away with her. Nerves.
Inside the hotel room, she watched von Ritter place the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign over the outside door handle and she shivered.
“Sit down,” he said, waving his hand once the door was shut. She took a seat and folded her hands in her lap. Von Ritter stood in front of her, arms folded, looking her over.
“Hmm, I don’t believe there’s a submissive ‘type’, but I do get a certain level of vibration from you. I think it would work for you. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. I’d be interested to find out, though.”
“When you say you’ve thought about this, do you mean you’ve had fantasies?”
Lydia bit her lip and looked at her fidgeting fingers.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Can you tell me what they were?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can…just…come out with it…”
“Maybe if I mention a few things you can say yes or no?” He put out a hand to squeeze hers, the human contact exactly what Lydia needed just then.
“Okay.”
“Being tied up?”