A Hard Bargain Read Online Free PDF Page B

in bitter frustration that he can’t—won’t—see beyond my clumsy inexperience to discover the potential beneath. The deep commitment, a yearning I can never remember not feeling. I won’t be giving up. I’ll never give up. I clench my fists, draw in a deep breath. I’ve lost this battle, I can see that. So now, time to end it.
    I stand, return to unzipping my skirt and drop it on the floor. I make no move to remove my thong, and he lets that be, just a slight quirk of his lips to show he’s registered my defiance. Oddly enough, I feel much less afraid of his anger now. I know he’ll control it. Somehow. Despite my lack of any safe words, he’ll still manage not to go too far. Instinctively, I’m feeling safe. Well, almost safe.
    “I have a present for you, Miss Stone.”
    He slips his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out two silicon wristbands, the sort you buy to give money to charities or to show support for a cause. I still have my white Make Poverty History wristbands in a drawer at home. These ones are plain though, no snappy slogans, and one is a vivid crimson red color, the other yellow. He holds them out to me, in his palm.
    “Give me your left hand.”
    Puzzled, I hold out my hand and he slips the red wristband onto it.
    “Now your right.”
    I hold out my other hand, and he slips the yellow band onto that.
    “You’re left-handed, yes?”
    I nod. He must have noticed which hand I used to type my notes on his phone.
    “Okay. Red means ‘stop’, ‘enough’, ‘no more’. That’s your safe word for this. Or safe signal, I suppose. You’ve only to raise your left hand, the one with the red wristband, and that stops everything, immediately, no questions. The yellow band means ‘slow down’, ‘not sure’, ‘need to talk’. Does that sound okay to you? It’s crude, I know, but can we manage with that?”
    I’m stunned. Yet again he’s astounded me just by thinking ahead and having a plan in place to help me communicate. First the phone, now this. Bemused, I nod, then suddenly think of something, a problem. I place my hands behind my back, as they would be if I was tied, and I shrug. Nicholas Hardisty smiles, shakes his head. “Ah, but I won’t be tying you up, Miss Stone. And you’ll be on the bench where I can easily see your hands. If you signal, if you need me to stop, I will see you. And I will stop.” He pauses, then, his voice soft, he continues, “Look at me, Miss Stone, and understand this. I would never, ever lay a hand on a sub—let alone lay her across a spanking bench and take a paddle to her arse—hard—unless I was absolutely certain I knew her safe word, and that she was free and able to use it. You will be safe with me. So, now you know exactly what’s in store for you, are you ready to start?”
    No alternative now, no further discussion, nothing else for it. So I just dip my head. Nicholas Hardisty moves aside, gestures toward the spanking bench. “Lean across the top, stretch your upper body along the bench and reach your hands out as far in front of you as you can.”
    I walk over to the bench, slowly, but not so slowly that he could take issue and maybe find a reason to force the pace a little. I’d really prefer to take my time over this. Then I remember my yellow wristband, my ‘slow down’ signal. I can ask for more time if I need it. And suddenly I realize how totally liberating that simple fact now is. I can even put a stop to this whole thing, just by raising my left hand, exerting the power of the red band. I’m not helpless, I have an escape route. If I take this beating from Mr Hardisty, it’s because I’ve decided to allow it, to accept it from him, not because I had no choice. Now, here with Nicholas Hardisty, I can choose to submit.
    I stop, look down at my two wrists, and glance back over my shoulder at Mr Hardisty. He’s watching me intently, and seems to know the instant the penny drops. He winks at me. The mighty Dom actually winks.