‘Fifty shades?’ he suggested with a wink.
‘More than that. Is Breath Control not the same as Asphyxia?’
‘Milder, by the sound of it. Still a no?’
‘I think so. And so is Branding!’ I exclaimed with a slight yelp at the item below.
‘Ouch.’ Tom drew his initial on my wrist with a fingertip. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘No, I bloody well wouldn’t. But Mia did say something once about getting a tattoo. Not the same, though, is it?’
‘Needles versus red-hot metal,’ mused Tom.
‘Jess is massively into it,’ I said. ‘She’s got them all over her back and upper arms. That’s why she always has to wear a jacket at work.’
‘Brandings?’
‘No, wise guy, tattoos.’
‘Ah, phew. Boot Worship, anyone?’
I couldn’t resist a glance down at Tom’s boots. They were only a little bit dusty.
‘Isn’t that more a Dominatrix thing?’ I said. ‘Patent leather, six-inch heels.’
‘You wouldn’t kiss my boots?’
‘I might,’ I said, laughing with embarrassment. This conversation was too surreal. ‘Not if they were wellies, though.’
He laughed back. ‘After a good old tramp up Golbury Hill. Delicious!’
‘I’m not sure about that one,’ I continued. ‘But the next is a definite tick. Bondage (mild).’
‘Not (heavy)?’ he asked with a ti
ny pout.
‘I’m not sure where mild crosses over into heavy,’ I admitted. ‘So…maybe tick both.’
And so it went on. We rejected the irrelevant (Cock and Ball Torture), the too intense (Knife Play), the too far-out (Diapering) and the frankly frightening (Gun Play). We entered into interesting discussions about what some of them actually involved (Mummification, Pup Play) before leaving them blank.
But those were the easy parts. Where it got difficult – and squirm-inducing – was in placing the ticks in the boxes. Because the boxes weren’t just Mia’s; they were mine too, and Tom would know it.
It was, for example, extraordinarily hard to own up to a possible enthusiasm for Caning.
I found myself muttering, ‘Dunno, seems a bit painful, maybe.’ But Mia had done it, and both loved and hated it, so I couldn’t leave it blank.
For most of them, I could allay my mortification by referring to posts Mia had written on the subject, placing them at a distance from myself. But there were others that she hadn’t done yet, but was surely going to do at The Academy. Most of these revolved around public display, humiliation, shared use. I had to agree to tick them, while my scalp crawled with the knowledge that Tom’s brain must be ticking over with all this intimate information. Applying it to me.
‘Whipping?’ he said, ticking it without even waiting for my answer.
‘Writing Lines,’ I read the last in a surprised tone of voice. ‘How very erotic.’
‘Don’t you think so?’ He turned to me, his hands on his knees. ‘Didn’t you ever fancy a schoolteacher?’
‘Well, yeah, I did,’ I said, realising now that it had crossed my radar that I did find the idea quite arousing. Especially if there was a spanking before or after it. Or both. ‘OK, tick it.’
He placed his final triumphant tick in the box and flicked his eyes back to me. They glinted with mischief.