Smile

As a child, my pretend play always involved someone being captured and tied up. Held indefinitely against her will, she was rarely rescued. If she did get free, the bad guy always found her and tied her up again. I liked being tied up. It gave me more freedom, if that’s possible, to be myself. To be erotic and sexy. I liked the intense feeling of spanking, whipping, paddling, and caning. In fact, I preferred that kind of pain to any mental pain and angst, real or imagined. Yes, the world was a crazy place. But I had finally found a way to fit into it.

I had never intended to date my client. Rule number one was that I don’t date clients. Ever. Only now could I explain my inability to stick to that rule: I may not have been the one in control.

After last night, Richard left me to think things over. Alone. He went to another part of the house—perhaps to his vampire coffin in the basement, I thought with a smile—and I opened up my laptop for answers. Overnight, I’d looked up similar cont