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my
heartbeat, which had slowed, now sped up once again.
    “Leona.”
    Clay—Master Clay—looked the same, except that he’d rolled up
his sleeves. It wasn’t until he took a step into the closet that I noticed the
crop he held in his right hand.
    I gasped and took a step back. My shoulders hit the drawers.
    “Leona, I’d like you to take two deep breaths.”
    Calm radiated from him, easing my fear. Or maybe it was his
aura of command that I was responding to.
    I took one breath, then a second. Clay nodded.
    “This is, as you may have guessed, a dressing room. This is
the place where you will let go of the outside world and give in to your
submission.”
    I nodded.
    “Out loud, please.”
    “I understand…I understand, Master Clay.”
    “Good. You’ve been assigned drawer number seven. When you
enter this room you will remove your clothing. For now you’re allowed to keep
you undergarments, but in the future I will expect you to be fully nude once
you enter.”
    “Yes, Master Clay.”
    “Did you bring the checklist?”
    “I did. And my doctor’s note.” I pulled the folded papers
from my purse and held them out. Clay waited a moment, forcing me to stand
there with my arm outstretched before he took them.
    “I’ll leave you to change. When you’re ready, come out. As
promised you’ll find more appropriate undergarments in your drawer. A gift
welcoming you to the world of BDSM.”
    Clay started to exit but stopped and looked back.
    “Leona, once you enter the Marquis’ Quarters you will keep
you gaze lowered. Do not speak unless spoken to, and be prepared to be
physically examined.”
    With that he closed the door, leaving me alone teetering
between terror and desire.
    The black lace camisole and thong were the nicest garments
I’d ever worn. The lace was soft, which I hadn’t expected. I was used to lace
being itchy, but this wasn’t. That probably meant it was expensive. The thong
was lined with thick silk and fastened on the sides with ribbons. I bit my lip
as I tied it in place, making sure the loops of the bows were even. It was easy
to imagine Master Clay untying it and the thought made me wet. The cami was
tight across my breasts but loose around my belly. The lace was thicker on the bra-like
cups, hiding my nipples.
    Once I was dressed I tucked all my clothes, along with my
purse and shoes, in the drawer he’d assigned me. The last thing I did was to
apply another coat of lip gloss.
    I wasn’t nearly as nervous now as I had been before, and my
hand was steady when I opened the door into the “Marquis’ Quarters”.
    The eager self-assurance melted away as I saw what was on
the other side.
    The room was low ceilinged and dark, with wood floors and
paneling on most of the walls. Spotlights in the ceiling shone on several
areas, leaving the rest of the room in shadow.
    A large X waited in the center of the room—a St. Andrew’s
Cross. Mounted on the wall near it was a metal grid. Chains dangled from the
grid, glinting in the bright light.
    There were two straight-backed wood chairs, one slightly
larger than the other, set against the wall. A wood post drenched in light
could have been mistaken for a structural support if it weren’t for the straps
wrapped around it.
    There was a deep cabinet on the wall just inside the door,
blocking my view of the right side of the room. I took two small steps and saw
a lovely seating area. Plush couches were arranged in a square around a raised
platform.
    I imagined myself up there on display for whoever was seated
on the couches and shivered. Large trunks were placed against the backs of the
couches, acting as console tables. Artwork and books rested there, making the
room a strange mix of elegantly staged sitting room and sex dungeon.
    The cabinet beside the door was one of three along that
wall. The center one had glass upper doors. The interior was lit, showing off
what I thought were glass sculptures. After a moment I realized they were glass
plugs