He knelt and bent forward, lying nearly on his face, his arms outstretched to barely touch her feet, as if he were not worthy to do even that.
She was intrigued. She had never found someone she would have considered until now. This one had practically thrown himself in her path, but she had liked the brief glimpse she had gotten of him.
"Stand," she commanded.
He rose quickly and stood, eyes forward as she moved around him. He was of average height, short blond hair, green eyes and a pencil moustache. She felt her pulse quicken at the leather collar he wore. There was just something arousing about that imagery. It communicated so viscerally the idea that he would be hers.
His arms and chest were bare, the hair on his chest really just a dusting that tapered to his slim waist. He wore the loincloth of those available for purchase, making it easier to check the goods. Mmmm, warm male loins, she thought. She refrained from lifting the cloth or having him expose himself though. That was something she was looking forward to discovering later. Even as her eyes traveled down his well-muscled legs, she realized she had already made the decision.
Maggie had been quite surprised when a lover had, five years before, pulled out a set of padded restraints and a paddle.
"I want you to secure me and give it to me good," he had growled.
Her first reaction had been to laugh but when she had realized that he was serious, she had become intrigued. She found she quite liked the feeling of power it gave her. She didn't really care to hit hard, but she loved the way the blood and heat rose up in his buttocks as she applied light smacks from varying angles. There had been no going back.
That lover had in turn introduced her to a whole new world. He had taken her to a club where the backroom was as large as the club area and devoted to the BDSM lifestyle. There she had met Peter, who had taken her under his wing as a mentor.
It had been Peter who first suggested the idea of purchasing a slave. They had met for coffee at an outdoor cafe in the springtime. Peter had looked across the table and said, "I think you should buy a slave."
Maggie had been quite repulsed by the thought and said so. It conjured up images of black slaves in the south being whipped by overseers. Peter had merely laughed.
"No, no. It's not that sort of thing at all. Really, it's more of an indentured servitude, for a period of time agreed upon by both parties. I bought my first slave ten years ago. She was actually a college professor who had taken a year long sabbatical to work on a book, or so she had told them. Of course, she did work on it when she had time, but she was a submissive and had wanted to be fully immersed in the life for a period of time. She was originally from Finland, a rather short blond woman with freckles."
Maggie had shook her head. "I don't know."
Peter had flapped his hand airily. "Oh, go on. Just check out the market. It's held in a warehouse down by the pier every first and third Friday of the month."