torture you?”
“No.”
“Okay, so stop letting your imagination run away with you.”
“But I don’t know what to imagine!” she told him. “I’ve never done it.”
“We’ll start with bondage,” he informed. “Something light and easy.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then you have a safeword.”
“A what?”
“A safeword. A word that you say to stop everything. If you get upset or too scared or something’s bothering you, you say the safeword and we stop. For us, your safeword will be ‘cantelope’.”
She stared at him. “Cantelope,” she repeated.
He nodded. “It’s a strange word, out of context. Couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. You say it, I stop.”
Abby continued to look at Mark. She set the container of Shrimp Fried Rice down on the table. “Mark.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” she nearly shouted. “A word? A safe word ? What the fuck about it is safe, Mark? It’s a word! Is it a magic fucking word? Do the chains suddenly fall off and I get whisked away to my own bedroom on a magic, fucking carpet? What the fuck is safe about a word ?!”
Mark stared at her for so long she sank back into the couch. “What?” she asked finally. “I’m just supposed to accept that?”
His face broke out into a smile. “No. You’re not. You’re the first woman to ever understand what a stupid concept that can be. I’m proud of you for calling me out about it.”
He was so far from offended at Abby’s outburst that she couldn’t help but laugh.
“But you know me, Abby. We’re friends. And you set up your safe call. I won’t tiptoe around the elephant in the room and not admit that once you’re tied up, I could hurt you for quite a while before your friend knows there’s a problem. I know it’s something you’ve at least considered, or you wouldn’t have called her in the first place.”
He put a hand on her knee. “This is the scary part, Abby. The part where you have to decide whether to trust me or not. But you do know me. You’ve been alone with me a few times. Your weirdo radar never went off and nothing bad happened to you.”
She frowned. “I’m scared.”
“I know. But the question is can you trust me enough to set it aside? I’ll talk you through everything. I’ll explain it all as we go. I’ll show you what I’m going to do and you’ll still have time to decide.”
Abby looked away and chewed her lip. “You’ll show me first?” she clarified.
“Yes.”
Abby wondered what she was so upset about. He was an ex-army ranger and much stronger and larger than she was. If he wanted to hurt her tonight, he could easily have already done it. “Okay,” she said finally. “Show me.”
Mark squeezed her knee and led her into the bedroom. It wasn’t particularly scary at all. The walls were blue and the bed was large with a wrought iron headboard. The comforter was dark gray. There were no whips, or chains that she could see. No rack, no iron maiden. This made her feel a lot better. It looked like a normal bedroom.
Mark led her to his dresser against the wall. He opened it and produced a leather cuff about two inches wide with two silver clips on either side, plus a buckle. She grimaced at it. “I thought it was supposed to be silk scarves?” she said.
He smiled. “Sounds romantic in theory. The reality? Not so much. They tighten up if you pull on them. They can cut off circulation and even cut the skin.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “Really?”
He nodded. “Silk scarves sound sexy, but they’re not safe. The three things we need to worry about are being safe, being sane, and that everyone consents to what’s happening. Okay?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I’m going to put this on you, just so you can feel it.” He opened the
“No.”
“Okay, so stop letting your imagination run away with you.”
“But I don’t know what to imagine!” she told him. “I’ve never done it.”
“We’ll start with bondage,” he informed. “Something light and easy.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then you have a safeword.”
“A what?”
“A safeword. A word that you say to stop everything. If you get upset or too scared or something’s bothering you, you say the safeword and we stop. For us, your safeword will be ‘cantelope’.”
She stared at him. “Cantelope,” she repeated.
He nodded. “It’s a strange word, out of context. Couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. You say it, I stop.”
Abby continued to look at Mark. She set the container of Shrimp Fried Rice down on the table. “Mark.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” she nearly shouted. “A word? A safe word ? What the fuck about it is safe, Mark? It’s a word! Is it a magic fucking word? Do the chains suddenly fall off and I get whisked away to my own bedroom on a magic, fucking carpet? What the fuck is safe about a word ?!”
Mark stared at her for so long she sank back into the couch. “What?” she asked finally. “I’m just supposed to accept that?”
His face broke out into a smile. “No. You’re not. You’re the first woman to ever understand what a stupid concept that can be. I’m proud of you for calling me out about it.”
He was so far from offended at Abby’s outburst that she couldn’t help but laugh.
“But you know me, Abby. We’re friends. And you set up your safe call. I won’t tiptoe around the elephant in the room and not admit that once you’re tied up, I could hurt you for quite a while before your friend knows there’s a problem. I know it’s something you’ve at least considered, or you wouldn’t have called her in the first place.”
He put a hand on her knee. “This is the scary part, Abby. The part where you have to decide whether to trust me or not. But you do know me. You’ve been alone with me a few times. Your weirdo radar never went off and nothing bad happened to you.”
She frowned. “I’m scared.”
“I know. But the question is can you trust me enough to set it aside? I’ll talk you through everything. I’ll explain it all as we go. I’ll show you what I’m going to do and you’ll still have time to decide.”
Abby looked away and chewed her lip. “You’ll show me first?” she clarified.
“Yes.”
Abby wondered what she was so upset about. He was an ex-army ranger and much stronger and larger than she was. If he wanted to hurt her tonight, he could easily have already done it. “Okay,” she said finally. “Show me.”
Mark squeezed her knee and led her into the bedroom. It wasn’t particularly scary at all. The walls were blue and the bed was large with a wrought iron headboard. The comforter was dark gray. There were no whips, or chains that she could see. No rack, no iron maiden. This made her feel a lot better. It looked like a normal bedroom.
Mark led her to his dresser against the wall. He opened it and produced a leather cuff about two inches wide with two silver clips on either side, plus a buckle. She grimaced at it. “I thought it was supposed to be silk scarves?” she said.
He smiled. “Sounds romantic in theory. The reality? Not so much. They tighten up if you pull on them. They can cut off circulation and even cut the skin.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “Really?”
He nodded. “Silk scarves sound sexy, but they’re not safe. The three things we need to worry about are being safe, being sane, and that everyone consents to what’s happening. Okay?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I’m going to put this on you, just so you can feel it.” He opened the
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