“You’re early. I haven’t showered.”
“I’d rather be early than late. I can wait in the car if you like.” She is a smart ass, but she is nervous.
“No, no. I just need to decide what to do with you.” He smiles.
He lets her in and gives her a hug; a comforting, quieting, full-body hug. She is instantly at ease, she feels safe.
He leads her into the kitchen and offers her something to drink. Accepting a glass of water, they chat a moment, and he instructs her to leave her purse and grab her other bag. He leads her to his play room.
She’s blown away and some of the anxious feeling she carried all day and mulled on her drive over - that nervousness quelled by his earlier embrace - came back to flutter her heart, if only a little. His collection was impressive… daunting even. A small shop’s worth of paddles and floggers, whips and canes, leather hoods, steel handcuffs, straps, gags… she may have gasped a little. Was that a… what the hell do you do with that?
She asks herself if she is truly prepared for this.
