Chapter 2 #2
“Before I answer that, may I ask you something?”
“Yes,” he answers, but doesn’t pull his gaze from the women.
“Why are you here?”
His head turns toward me, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
“I… was… uh, curious.”
“About?”
He swallows hard. “Everything?”
“You have no experience,” I say plainly, and purposely don’t pose it as a question.
He shakes his head, eyes still wide and beautiful.
I give him a small smile. “There’s nothing wrong with that. We all start somewhere.” My attention goes back to the glass wall. “And to answer your question—no. This is so much more than bondage.”
He steps closer to the glass.
“It’s beautiful,” he says as a man enters the room. He’s wearing a tight pair of jeans and a black mask, nothing else—you can’t even see the color of his hair. His golden skin is on display under the bright lights of the room, and the outline of his thigh muscles and hard cock are clear as day.
“This is Kinbaku,” I explain, stepping beside him. “It is sometimes confused for Shibari, which is similar. But for those of us who dive into the art, there’s a subtle yet meaningful distinction.”
“There is?” he questions.
“Shibari means ‘to tie’ in Japanese. It’s the technique, the practice of binding with rope.
It’s beautiful and intricate. Kinbaku means ‘tight binding’ in Japanese, but it’s more than the physical act.
It’s emotional. Intense. Erotic. It’s about the experience, the energy exchanged. There is a story being told.”
He looks up at me again, so much curiosity in his eyes. It makes my dick ache. He isn’t much shorter than me, a few inches, but that doesn’t stop him from looking at me like I hold power over him.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen,” I say, shocked that the words fall from my mouth so easily. I don’t typically compliment someone unless we have an agreement. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea, and something as simple as a compliment could blur those lines.
His cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and his teeth sink into his plump bottom lip.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“I have a niche need that isn’t easy to fulfill elsewhere.”
“What is it?” he asks, and I consider telling him.
The words are right there, on the tip of my tongue. But I have a process to follow. Not following it causes unwanted problems.
“I appreciate your curiosity, but with your lack of experience—”
“I can handle it,” he says quickly. “I promise.”
I stare at him for a moment. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
Much younger than me, and much younger than what I typically go for.
“I’m old enough to be your father,” is what I say.
“That’s okay.”
I huff a laugh and ask, “What is your sexual orientation?”
“I like men.”
I appreciate that he says he likes men and not boys.
“And your preferred position?” I ask.
“Bottom.”
“Always?”
“Yes.”
What I’m after does not include sex, but there is a type of personality that goes along with that, that I am looking for. I need someone submissive, and typically tops are not that.
“Do my questions make you nervous?” I ask, noting his fidgeting.
“A little.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” I gesture to the couch.
“Let’s sit.” We move to the couch and take a seat, him on my right.
There is enough space between us that we can turn toward one another and speak comfortably.
“Honesty is important. Do not allow yourself to be uncomfortable because you think you have to please me. I can guarantee that you have no idea what that would even be.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. Still just… slightly nervous.”
“I can deal with that.” I sigh, leaning against the back of the couch to take him in. “You are quite attractive.”
He smiles proudly. “So are you.”
“Am I your usual type?”
“No, not really.”
That’s also a plus. If I’m not his type, I don’t have to worry about feelings.
“What are you looking for here?” I ask.
“I was hoping I’d figure that out once I got here.”
“I’ll admit I’m hesitant on telling you more about me, but there’s something about you that has me curious.”
“I’d really like to know.”
“Very well.” I reach into the inside pocket of my coat to pull out a card.
“Do not look at this until after I leave, understand?” He nods enthusiastically.
It’s adorable. “Once I explain what I am looking for, I will leave this room and go home. If you decide you want more information, you can give me a call. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.”
I offer him the card. He takes it and shoves it into his pants pocket. Not even a glance at it. He follows direction well, and that is another plus.
“I am looking for a specific, uncommon type of lifestyle. I don’t do typical relationships, but I do have needs and cravings.
I am particular about most things, and I live a busy life.
My profession requires me to be discreet, and it is my top priority.
What I am looking for would take a lot of your time. Most of it, in fact.”
I don’t know why I’m stalling. I’ve never been hesitant about telling someone about this before—not after feeling them out.
And I suddenly realize it’s because I’m worried about what he will think.
I want him to want this too. Maybe because I’m becoming desperate since it’s been so long, or maybe because there is something about him that has spiked my interest.
“I’d like to own you, in every aspect.” If he’s surprised by this, he doesn’t show it.
“I am here to look for a slave. And due to your inexperience, I’m sure you don’t quite know what that means.
I beg you not to look it up on the internet, as it’s riddled with misinformation.
” I get to my feet, and button my suit jacket.
“If you’re curious to know more when you wake in the morning, give me a call. ”
I feel his eyes on me all the way to the door. I honestly have no idea if he’s going to call.