Raising my pointer in the air, the other fingers forming a fist, I make a circle parallel to the ceiling. “Undress.” I remember the signals easily. The recollection bombards me with the memories of a handsome man who used to care for me like no one else had before.
My pointer over my lips. “Silence.”
My pointer directed at the floor. “Come to me now.”
My pointer and middle finger both pointed at the ground and touching one another. “Kneel for me.”
My pointer and middle finger pointed at the ground but spread apart, forming a V. “Spread your legs for me.”
With my chest rising and falling easily, I attempt to recall any others, but I don’t think there were any.
“And what of specific kneels, eyes down, hands and knees at the point? What of that?”
Shaking my head gently, I maintain eye contact, and question if I should tell him or if I should remain silent.
“You can speak,” he states easily and frees me from the dilemma.
“I have never done any of that, and I don’t know what ‘at the point’ means.”
“Was he soft with you?”
Again I hesitate, and my fingers slip to the hem of my dress. “I don’t know.”
“Did you have lessons from anyone else or observe any other training?”
“No … not really. It’s not … It wasn’t my kink. I love it, and I loved being his, but all I know is what he told me.”
Zander’s hand flexes once more, the fingers noticeably spreading wide before he makes a fist. My eyes are drawn to the movement. “It means behave.”
A smirk tips up my lips. “Is it a threat of a spanking?” I question and Zander doesn’t react. Heat overwhelms me, the nervous kind and I stay perfectly still. His hazel eyes never leave me, and it takes a moment for him to answer. “No. It’s a command. I will not threaten you, and I don’t like that language.”
“So serious,” I murmur, all humor leaving the room.
“You enjoy being spanked, don’t you? You love it even.”
“I do.”
“When I tell you to behave, it is not the promise of you enjoying what would happen if you do not obey. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have a safe word?” he questions.
I answer with only a nod, the word stuck at the back of my throat.
“Did you use it often?”
“No. I tried not to use it ever.” His expression is unmoving, but his eyes spark with an emotion I can’t place.
“I want you to pick a word now.”
“Should it be the same as before?” I question without asking if I have permission to speak freely. The fear of disapproval grips me instantly and I’m more than aware that Zander notices. It’s the first time since we’ve started that his expression softens.
“We are not in a scene and I am happy to clarify,” he answers, his tone soothing and caressing away the worry. “So long as you are answering or searching for an answer, I am pleased.” I only nod, my heart continuing to run away from me.
“To answer your question, the word is yours to choose. It can be the same, or it can be different. It can be as simple as ‘stop,’ although if you choose that word, you may find that you want to change it later … it’s quite easy to use the word when the intensity picks up.” With a deeper inhale, Zander’s hips move slightly and he palms his erection through his jeans. “I intend to push every boundary with time, but for your word, it is yours and you can use anything you wish.”
“Even something like … daffodil?”
He only nods and when I’m silent in response he asks, “Is that your word?”
“No.” My gaze drops to the floral print decorating my dress. I didn’t anticipate feeling … like this.
“What’s wrong?”
I nearly shake my head but before I can complete the action, denying that anything is off, Zander commands, “You will tell me what you were thinking. And you will tell me now.”
My throat is tight when I answer, “He told me it was a silly word. He said the safe word shouldn’t be … daffodil.” I don’t know why it hurts so much to remember that. James was good to me. And I loved it. I loved everything that we had together.
“He was soft, and from the sounds of it, it was play for you? It was more than likely play for him with … limited experience.
“Safe words are respected regardless of what they are. Whatever word you want to use, I will abide by. Is that clear?”
“Yes.” The stirring of heat in his eyes is echoed at my core under the skirt of my dress. Simply from the way he looks at me, with the darker gaze of a Dominant.
“When you are ready, tell me what your word is.”
“Pink.” I answer him with only the word and not the reason, praying silently that he won’t ask for one.