The Professor's Pet (A BDSM Romance Novel) (8 page)

He nodded wryly. “I can understand that,” he muttered. “What’s exhibitionism to you?”

“I can’t be displayed, naked, to someone else. You can’t ask me to flash someone, or to show someone my
pussy.”

“Okay. What about putting you in situations that might embarrass you, if you are fully clothed?”

“Like what? You can’t introduce me as your slut, or submissive, or something like that.”

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Tell you what, let’s try this one out; let’s play a game. What are you doing
this afternoon?”

“I was going to Napa Valley,” I said.

“In this weather?” he asked. He gestured to the window; it was pouring rain outside.

I made a face. “I guess not.” I tried to feel regret for my lost day of
carefree wandering and exploration, but at the same time, my nerve endings were on edge; seated so close to him, and I couldn’t imagine what he was going to make me do.

He studied my list again, then reached for the pen. “Were you done with
your limits?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “I think so. Not that I won’t have more, I just don’t know yet.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. “Okay, I’m going to add mine in; things I have no interest in doing with anyone. If you want to try some of this out, you’ll have to look elsewhere.” He drew a line at the end of my list; added a heading. “Jake’s Hard Limits.”

I bit off a grin. It was all very professorial. “Would you like a ruler, to underline your heading?” I asked. Sure, it was cheeky, but I couldn’t resist.

“I’d like a ruler to spank your ass,” he replied with a grin. He continued writing. “1. No blood/needles/pins.”

“2. No electricity.”

“3. No caning.”

“Okay, that’s all I can think of right now,” he said. “I mean, there’s a ton of stuff outside of this that I’m not interested in doing, but it’s not likely to come up.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“As an example, sensory deprivation,” he said. “Putting you in a full head hood, wrapping you in cling-wrap, stuff like that.” He laughed at my shocked expression. “There’s a world of kink out there, Emily. As it goes, I’m pretty conservative in what I like to do.”

We’d both finished our breakfasts. He looked at me. “I’m sorry, but if we are going to play this afternoon, I’m going to actually have to use the morning to get some work done. Can I give you a ride home?”

I shook my head. “I’ll just walk; you aren’t that far away from my apartment,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “In the rain? Get dressed, Emily, I’ll give you a ride home.”

***

We had arranged that he would pick me up at two. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going. “Wear a skirt,” he ordered. “Knee length or higher. Bare legs, please.”

“
Should I wear underwear?” I asked. I thought I knew where this was going.

He grinned. “Definitely wear underwear,” he drawled. “It’s fun to take it off.”

I looked at him, eyes narrowed. “What are you planning, Jake?”

“Why would I tell you, Emily?” he asked. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

***

My buzzer sounded at five to two. I pressed the button on the intercom. “I need to come up,” Jake’s voice said. I buzzed him in.

“Hi,” I said. I felt oddly shy, seeing Jake in my apartment. He felt larger than life here, a vivid, disruptive presence in my normalcy. “Would you like something to drink?”

I was clothed per his instructions; I wore a cream wool skirt that fell in soft folds to slightly above my knees. A simple black t-shirt; a p
lain black bra underneath. A pair of red flats completed the look. He smiled, surveyed me evenly for compliance with his instructions. “Would you like something to drink, Professor Ballard,” he corrected.

It had started. “Would you like something to drink, Professor Ballard?” I asked him.

He shook his head politely. “No thank you, Emily. Can you show me your bedroom?”

What was he planning? I silently led the way, inwardly grateful my room wasn’t strewn all over with clothes.

“Emily,” he sounded amused, as he took a seat in the armchair in my bedroom. “Can you bring me all the sex toys you own?”

I flushed scarlet. “I don’t own any,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “No vibrator? No dildo?”

“Yes, I have a vibrator,” I admitted, red-faced.

“All your sex toys, please,” he repeated, his voice implacable. “Bring them out, set them on the bed.”

I’d just unpacked, so I knew exactly where all my sex toys are. I owned one dildo and one vibrator; I pulled out the Tupperware box I stored them in from the bottom drawer of my dresser, and silently placed the box on the bed.

He laughed aloud. “Tupperware,” he chuckled. “Funny. My mom used to take chicken salad for the neighborhood potluck in a box very much like that one.” His voice hardened. “Take the toys out of the box before you put them on the bed, Emily, before I get annoyed by the disobedience.”

I knew I was likely to get into trouble, but this was really embarrassing. My cheeks flaming, I did as he said.

“Good girl,” he said. He got up, walked over to the bed, took a look. I hadn’t been lying, exactly, I really didn’t have many toys. I’d never felt like using them on myself, and previous boyfriends would have been horrified at the toys I did want to buy; spreader bars and butt plugs and nipple clamps and cuffs.

“Can I have that drink now? Either tea or coffee please, if you have it?”

“I can make some coffee,” I offered.

He smiled at me. “That sounds excellent,” he said. He took a notepad from his jacket pocket, followed me into the kitchen; took a seat at my tiny kitchen table. H
e started writing as I ground the beans, spooned the grounds into the filter, added water and switched my coffee-maker on. I wanted to peek, but the first time I came close by, he lifted his head and shook it at me, his lips twitching. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he commented dryly.

I pouted at him, but he just laughed at me. “Make the coffee, Emily,” he ordered, and resumed writing. “Oh, and do you have a ruler?”

My heart jumped; I looked nervous. He laughed openly at my expression. “I just wanted to underline something,” he drawled.

I threw my kitchen towel at him; he caught it easily, and threw it back to me. “Tsk, tsk, Emily,” he said, amused. “Keep that temper under control, baby, else you are going to be in trouble.”

***

We got into the car. “Do you know anyone in Oakland?” he asked me
, as we headed onto the freeway.

I shook my head. “Okay, let’s go to Oakland,” he said cheerfully.

“Jake,” I said, “I’m not flashing someone in Oakland.”

He didn’t comment. I sighed. “Professor Ballard,” I restarted, “I would prefer not to flash someone in Oakland, Sir.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Emily. You’ve already told me that; it’s on your hard limits. Trust me, I’ll respect those. You won’t be showing anyone any more skin than you are showing at the present.”

“Then what do you have planned?” I asked.

“Pet,” he drawled. He sounded utterly exasperated. “I can turn around and drive you back home. If we are playing, then submit with grace. It isn’t just about calling me Professor Ballard.”

He was right. As much as I wanted to let go, and cede control; it was still hard sometimes. “I’m sorry, Professor Ballard,” I said softly.

He nodded.

***

Oakland has an airport, and for some reason, the streets surrounding an airport always have a few seedy ‘Adult DVD’ stores. A throwback to an earlier age when people needed to buy and watch videos to get their kink on. In the age of the Internet, it was a miracle that any of these had ever survived.

We pulled up in front of one. Jake turned to me. His gaze was even.

“I like to play,” he started. “But I play safe. I’ve been to this store before. It’s a bit seedy, but not dangerously so. There’s no live show in the back, no peepholes
or viewing booths or glory holes or anything of that ilk. You will be safe there. Embarrassed, but safe.”

My expression must have shown a measure of panic.

“I will be right next to you,” he added.

I was instantly reassured. “What do I need to do?” I asked.

He grinned. “It sells a surprisingly extensive selection of sex toys. Here’s your shopping list.”

I reached for the list he was holding out; this was what he was working on earlier. I looked down; it even had a nice heading. Sex Toy Shopping List, it said, in Jake’s neat writing. My lips twitched.

He put his hand over mine to get my attention. “Here are the rules,” he said. “You can’t buy anything marked beginner. Or anything pink.”

I nodded
compliance. “No pink, no beginner. Got it, Professor Ballard,” I muttered.

“I won’t answer questions,” he said. “If you have questions, you must ask the guy at the front.”

My eyes flew up to meet his. “I can’t,” I said, flushing.

He shook his head. “Emily, the purpose of this is to explore your limits. Is this really a hard limit for you?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Okay. Finally, I need you to ask the guy in the front at least one question about the products.” He grinned.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

I must have looked nervous, because he leaned forward and kissed me briefly on my lips. “I won’t put you in danger,” he said. His voice radiated calm, and some of that calm cascaded through me. I closed my eyes, and strove for submissiveness. My job was to obey J
ake; he had given me an order.
Submit with grace, Emily,
I repeated his words to myself. I took a deep breath in, and then turned to look at him.

“I’m ready, Professor Ballard,” I said quietly.

I was unprepared for the look in his eyes, the warmth and the approval. “That’s the spirit, Emily,” he said, opening his door, and coming around to my side to open mine. He helped me out of the car, opened the door of the store for me. “After you,” he said. His eyes were amused, but there was still approval there, and the approval was a seductive blanket, it curled itself around me, and ensconced me in warmth.

***

Sex Toy Shopping List:

1. Nipple clamps. Something with bells. Also, must have a chain that connects them.
   
2. Cotton rope. At least 100 feet.
   
3. A set of butt plugs. Get a small, medium and large.
   
4. A set of Ben Wa balls.
   
5. Riding crop
   
6. Flogger
   

I surveyed the list
; my lips twitching despite myself. It was cleverly done; for some items, he’d given me extremely specific requirements; I’d have to ask questions if I couldn’t find what I wanted. Other items, like the flogger, or the riding crop, since I couldn’t buy the one marked ‘beginner’, I’d either have to guess whether it was something I could handle, or I had to ask the guy at the counter for help.

“Devious,” I commented, as we entered.

He smirked at me. “I do my best,” he drawled.

***

Bells had chimed as we entered, a man looked up. His arms were covered in tattoos, his eyebrows were pierced, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me, but he smiled politely.

“Can I help you?” he asked me. He noted Jake behind me, a solid, reassuring presence. He nodded to Jake.

“I’m just going to look around,” I said. I was startled to find that my voice was steady.

I wa
ndered through the store, Jake at my side. “Are you going to talk to me at all here?” I asked him.

His lips twitched. “You know,” he commented mildly, “you really must try for a more submissive attitude. Follow your instructions, please, no unnecessary chatter.”

I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled. I wanted to be good for him, but I kept forgetting. “Can I ask a question, Professor Ballard? Am I allowed to buy something not on the list?” I said softly.

“As long as you get everything on the list, you can do whatever else you want, Emily,” he muttered. “And now, I confess, you have me curious about what you want to buy.”

I grinned to myself, as I wandered around the store. It wasn’t large; there was a large section of costumes on one wall; PVC corsets and thigh high boots; slutty nurse and devil costumes, stuff like that. Another wall had the whips and crops on my list, along with gags and spreader bars; yet another wall had dildos in seemingly every size and colour. The more expensive equipment was in a small display case at the front.

The first item on the list, the nipple clamps, were in that disp
lay case. I took a deep breath; decided to leave that for later. The next item on the list was the cotton rope. I found it on the wall next to the gags, grabbed a package. 50 feet of black rope.
Damn it,
I cursed inwardly, and looked for a larger package. There wasn’t any, not that I could see.

Jake’s lips twitched as he saw the irritation in my eyes. “Perhaps he has additional rope in his storeroom,” he suggested silkily.