The Theory of Attraction by Delphine Dryden Page B

nipples brushed against his shirt, making me even more aware that he was still wearing all his clothes while I was naked as a jaybird. Or nekkid, as we said in Texas, which meant you were naked and up to no good.
    “No, Professor. Except to please you.”
    “Somebody’s been reading up. Did you go on the internet last night when you got home?” He didn’t sound too perturbed about that.
    “I might have done a little light reading, Sir.”
    He tugged his T-shirt off, but left his shorts on. “I may assign you some reading too. I’ll have to think of a few selections. But that will be later. For now, I have other priorities.”
    After brushing a faint promise of a kiss against my lips, he stepped away and disappeared into his closet for a few moments, returning with one hand full of black webbed nylon strapping. He must have seen my eyes widen in alarm, because he grinned and shook his head.
    “If you’re scared of tethers and Velcro cuffs, remind me to wait a long time before I take you to the club.”
    “What are you planning to do with those?”
    “About what you might expect.” He slung the straps onto the bed and patted the sheet encouragingly. “Come here.”
    When I hesitated, biting my lip, his eyes grew stern and he approached me bearing a set of the cuffs. “Camilla, go to the bed now or you’re going over my knee.”
    That didn’t really help me with my decision. But after a few seconds I flipped a mental coin and complied. “Yes, Professor.”
    He put me on all fours in the middle of the bed, cuffing my wrists and ankles and tethering me to the head and footboard with some slack. I could see the versatility, because there was still enough play in the tethers to allow me to lie face up or down, or in any number of positions. But not quite enough for me to wriggle completely off the bed, or use one hand to free the other. When I was all secured there, trembling a little from nerves and excitement, Ivan knelt on the bed beside me and slipped a mask over my head, carefully shifting my hair to accommodate the strap as he settled the black silk blind on my nose. It was heavy and blocked the light completely. I swallowed hard and tried to focus on breathing slowly, calmly.
    “The lesson for today,” Ivan murmured in my ear, “is about trust.”
    “Okay. I trust you, Professor.” I meant to sound a little less anxious as I said it.
    “It goes both ways, Camilla.” He started touching me, hands running over my shoulders and back, reaching under me to cup a breast or tweak a nipple. Those hands kept busy as he spoke, and I never knew where to expect them next. “You trust me not to hurt you while you’re tied up, at least not in a way we haven’t agreed on. I trust you to give me everything you can, everything I ask for, and be honest about your limits. And of course you also trust me to reward you if you comply. If you’re good.” One hand slipped between my legs, tracing up and down one inner thigh in a slow, torturous tease. “If you’re bad, on the other hand, you trust me to rein you in. Which are you going to be today, Camilla? A bad girl, or a good girl?”
    “I’ll be good if you’ll move your hand up about another two inches, Professor,” I tried to joke. He pulled his hand away so fast I could almost hear a swish in the air as it moved. But his voice remained calm, smooth. In control. I felt him get up from the bed, and then footsteps as he walked around.
    “No. It isn’t a negotiation. Once we’re in a scene, once we’re doing…this, the time for negotiation and bargaining is over. Which means that now, trying to talk me into giving you pleasure any sooner than I intended to makes you a bad girl, and a little slut. Do you know what happens to little sluts?”
    “S-spankings, Professor?” Woohoo!
    “No. No, I think this is more serious than that. I think this calls for flogging.”
    Something smooth and soft flapped over my ass and dragged up my back, tickling along my