ZANDER
Ella’s been doing exceptionally well. Much better than I ever could have imagined that first day I saw her in the courtroom. She still has moments, but she acknowledges them, embraces them and then gives them to me.
She’s fucking perfect.
All I’ve done today is praise her in the playroom. Anticipation coats the air. All of the equipment is arranged as it usually is. Ella stands naked in the middle of the room, preparing herself. It’s like other scenes we’ve done.
The difference this time is that there’s a camera. The steady red light from atop the dresser indicates everything we do is being recorded.
I’ve ordered Ella not to look at it. I want her attention solely on me.
Still, it’s like another person is in the room with us, watching.
Her chest rises heavily, lust evident in her expression. She loves this. And I can give it to her so easily.
It’s not my kink, to be watched, but I can’t say that it doesn’t thrill me. She loved it when I fucked her on that chair with another actual person in the room. The camera is a stand-in for that feeling, yes, but it’s also serving another important purpose.
I want this documented so that she can see.
Ella deserves the right to see everything we do together the way I see it, or the way an onlooker would see it. By using the camera, I’m making that possible for her.
The new addition makes the session feel more charged, like she has a willing audience ready to play into her exhibitionist tendencies. Even if nobody’s watching on a screen in another room.
It’s also an avenue for something she’s unaware of. It’s for me to delve deeper into territories that may be uncomfortable. Things I may need Damon’s help addressing.
I have her body. I want all of her, though. Every bit and that requires asking questions that may trigger her.
Swallowing thickly, a paddle in my hand, I stare into Ella’s dark eyes and steady myself. She breathes heavily, her face flushed from already having pleasured herself. A vibrator is on the floor at her bare feet.
Slowly, I tie her hands and attach them to the hook above her head as I speak. “I’m going to ask you questions. You remember your safe word, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she answers easily, her warm breath tickling my neck as she does. I kiss her hard, my hand falling to her waist.
“What is it?”
“Pink,” she says. Taking one step back, I tell her she’s a good girl and then I ask in a clear and controlled manner, “What would James tell me about you if I asked him for advice about being your Dom?”
She swallows hard, and I wait patiently. Talking about James is difficult for Ella, but she’s been getting better at it. What I’ve learned about painful topics is that staying silent about them doesn’t work. Not in the long run. I learned that from talking to Ella about Quincy. Repetition and exposure are the only things that make it easier. Not less painful, really, but easier.
James shouldn’t be a dark secret. Not between us. No dark secrets belong in a relationship like ours. Doing this will only bring us closer.
A faint smile comes to her face, and inwardly I sigh with relief.
“He would say …” Ella begins slowly but thoughtfully. She rests her weight on the cuffs at her wrists, and I can tell she’s weighing each word as well. “He would say that I respond well to praise.”
That’s right. She does. I give her a nod of encouragement.
“And he would say that maybe a little degradation works too. He would say that I need a firm hand.” She smirks slightly, still looking at me.
“You do need a firm hand,” I agree. “You test my patience sometimes, don’t you?”
“I did in the beginning but I could do a better job of that now,” she teases me and my cock hardens.
“Oh, don’t push me right now, my little bird, not when I have a new … kink to test with you.”
Her dark eyes brighten. I don’t put a collar around her neck. Not yet. I use my hand instead. “Do you trust me?” Her pulse is hot against my skin.
Ella seems to relax into my grip. “Yes, sir,” she answers.
“Do you remember your safe word?” I ask again.
“Yes, sir.” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, but she doesn’t falter with her words.
I add pressure to my grip, careful to avoid her windpipe. Some think choking is about the throat. It’s not. That’s dangerous and more than a little damaging. I only put a small amount of pressure on her carotid artery. It’ll make Ella light-headed, and heighten the pleasure. “Eyes open and on me,” I command her, barely squeezing, only testing. Her dark gaze stays on mine as I add a bit more pressure.
Her nipples pebble and a blush flushes her skin.
“How much do you trust me?” I ask.
“With my life,” she says.
“You know that’s in my hands right now, don’t you?” I ask.