Wynhod stepped close
to the wall studded with straps, floggers, whips, and paddles. “You said no
extreme pain. What of light discipline?” He fingered a stiff strap about an
inch and a half wide.
The thought of the
massive Kalquorian strapping her ass, turning her flesh pink then red, stole
Dani’s voice. She could only nod. She felt warm inside, no doubt a fear
reaction. No way being punished would make her hot. “I can put up with a little
pain.”
Gelan’s tone rumbled
approval. “Very nice. Sensory deprivation?”
Dani swallowed and
recovered her ability to speak. “Like blindfolds, gags, that kind of thing?”
“Yes.”
She licked her lips.
“I’m good with that.” Was she ever. Her sex had gone slick with anticipation.
Gelan’s hand rubbed
up and down her back, his touch both soothing and exciting all at once.
“Excellent. I think we have enough to start with.”
Wynhod left the
punishment tools to confront Dani. “We are used to being in command. Call it a
consequence of our line of work. Can you be obedient?”
Dani bristled at his
tone. “Of course. It’s my job after all.”
As if he didn’t
quite believe her, Gelan added, “We insist on respect. You will not speak
without permission except to acknowledge our orders.”
Wynhod continued,
“In that case you will respond with ‘yes, Dramok Gelan’,” he nodded to the
cornrowed Kalquorian then indicated Krijero, “Or ‘yes, Imdiko Krijero’ or ‘yes,
Nobek Wynhod’.”
Dani shrugged.
“Sure.” At a cold look from Wynhod she hastily amended, “I mean, yes, Nobek
Wynhod.”
Gelan squeezed her
shoulder. “Good. If you become too uncomfortable with anything we do, you will
say sholt. That is Kalquorian for
‘stop’.” He paused expectantly.
“Yes, Dramok Gelan.”
“You may strip.”
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