“Is this your first time here?” Beatrice asked as she moved face to face. Ashley nodded. As the curling finished Beatrice moved behind Ashley again and placed her hands on her shoulders. “One last thing then,” she said, and started a gentle shoulder massage. It kneaded out the nervous tension in her body, but barely touched the giddy anticipation still running through her.
Ashley had already picked her outfit for tonight: a dark navy-blue lingerie ensemble, with a lacey bustier connecting the garters to the black stockings. In hindsight, she had wanted to pick what would look sexy, that would make her feel like she was about to down someone in pure bliss and did not think about the reality at all. In her dreams, she’d imagined herself stretched in the doorway, hair wild across her face, clad in sensual leather, ten times thinner and sultrily saying ‘well… Hello stranger.’
In reality, she’d worn nothing like this before in her life and just looking at the size on the tag was draining her confidence every second. Beatrice helped with the bra, fixed up the bustier and applied her make-up. Ashley looked at herself in the mirror, hands close together, shoulders nervously hunched over… the giddy electricity had turned into a hot shock. The outfit felt too big for her, not just physically but mentally. She wasn’t built athletic, she wasn’t skinny and the piercing, fluttering eyes of dream Ashley were in reality brown orbs she always thought belonged in a pug’s sockets. ‘Average’ felt like a distant compliment.
“I look like a dumb little puppy someone dressed up as a joke, this was such a mistake-” Beatrice clamped a hand across her mouth, a stern look in her eye. “Don’t knock yourself. Not now, not here.” Beatrice took her hand off Ashley’s mouth and tenderly took her own hands, “You’re in your proper element here, your genuine nature. And there are no mistakes in your genuine nature. It’s like… In nature, Subs are puppies. Some are big breeds, some are small, some are work dogs and some are lap dogs, all are cute.” She said, the sternness fading to a smirk.
“Dommes are spiders. Some are big strong huntsman, some focus are weaving their web, some force their partners to dance, and some-” she gave Ashley’s nose a tap, “are ambush predators. Meek and disguised until they’ve caught you in their web. No matter what, there’s no wrong way to wear your own skin.” Beatrice said as she gave her hands a squeeze. Ashley felt the flashing panic and self-loathing fade as she looked into the wolf’s masked face. The giddy current rose again. She could do anything here. If she wanted to strip Bryan naked and then play with his hair for an hour, nothing would stop her.
Beatrice ran Ashley through the safe words Bryan had just learned, some hard limits for both him and the inn and what to do when they were done. Then she helped Ashley back into her silk robe and finally led her to the room Bryan was trussed up in. At the door she flicked out a black condom wrapper. “First ones on the house. Towels are under the bed’s end, lubes in the desk drawer on the right.” Ashley took the wrapper; realizing actual sex hadn’t crossed her mind all day.
“Last piece of advice,” Beatrice started, holding up her index finger, “The first safe word is for you. You won’t ruin anything by prodding for it; if you need communication, do whatever you want to get it. Take off the headphones, undo the blindfold or whatever else will make you feel more comfortable. Like I said there’s no wrong choice in there.”
“Okay.” Ashley rubbed her hands together, eyes focused. It's time to enter my web. She theatrically shrugged off her robe and turned the doorknob.
