Treat? He paused with an open expression of curious confusion – one that went dismissed as the pale mortician strutted past him into the house. The clicking of her heels on the hardwood flooring was a sharp, borderline ominous sound. He closed the front door. “I – Thanks? I guess. If I’d known we were supposed to start rewarding for opening doors I would’ve given Ravi an extra bagel this morning.” It clicked when he turned to watch her walk. Brain. The gait wasn’t hers. Major knew Liv to brim with confidence, but hers had been a natural one built on learned experience. The one that she carried herself with into his house felt more like a force of nature – a storm brewing on the horizons. His head hung with a hard exhale.
It was roulette. Not just for her, but for Major too. His eyes followed the riding crop in her hands with befuddled astonishment. He hadn’t noticed it when he’d first opened the door. “It’s only noon. Doesn’t that seem a little preemptive for hard liquor?” It took another moment for him to register the annunciation she’d used on the word hard. He rubbed the back of his neck as one possible implication pushed to the front of his thoughts. It wouldn’t be the first time. There was at least one other time he’d encountered Liv on a more sensual brain, but at the time he hadn’t known about her current condition. “Right.” He trailed her into the kitchen. Despite the half-serious question he’d posed a minute before he pulled out a shot glass from out of the cabinets.
“No. I don’t think so. Ravi didn’t even know there was anything here until the police tossed the place, and I doubt they’re planning on returning any of it.” He opened the liquor cabinet, scanning the labels of the cheap selection. “I’m guessing from the riding crop that this is horse trainer brain. So what’s her deal?“ He flashed a bottle of cheap scotch. “Best that I can do on short notice.” With it and the glass he walked to the refrigerator for a handful of ice, joking as he poured out the liquor, “I might have to reconsider career paths. Bartending’s not so bad.” He passed the glass to her then leaned against the counter with arms folded. The humorous mirth quieted in favor of light concern. “What do you need that stuff for?”
All of Major’s talk was rambling in her ears. She was starting to get bored. There was nothing here that would work, unless...her mind shuffled for where the common household items, such as garbage bags, were kept. She would get creative. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d have to work with little resources. First, she needed that drink though, “Horse trainer brain?” The words sliced Liv’s tongue in annoyance, especially that she would train such beasts. “No, Sweetheart. If I’m training anything, it’s going to be you.” Snatching the drink out of his hand, she turned back the glass and choked down the bland alcohol. Slamming the glass down on the counter, Liv felt its presence crack within her grip, “There’s no hot sauce in this...Where’s the hot sauce, Lilywhite?” Her glare was hard.
Forgetting the trash bags, and other household items for the time being, Liv focused her attention solely on Major, “Bend over. You’ve been a bad boy not adding in your Mistress’s hot sauce, and now, she’s angry.” Slapping the riding crop in her hand, Liv wanted to give Major some sense of a heads up. It was only fair. Plus, they hadn’t exactly discussed a safe word, and no matter how rough she wanted to get, there were always rules before the fun started, “Before I make that Lilywhite ass of your’s cherry red...what’s your safe word?” She stopped in front of him; her heels giving her height that she normally didn’t have.
Nearly eye level with Major, she pursed her blood red lips waiting for his answer. “Pick it soon, or you can bet your bottom that it’s going to be as red as my lips are...” If it was one thing BDSM Liv hated, it was waiting. She had places to be and other clients to see. “Clocks counting down, Major...Tick-tock, tick-tock...” Biting at her bottom lip, she ran the crop around his face and down his chest slowly feeling her own self being turned on more than she wanted to admit at the moment.
