Rich Tapestry by Ashe Barker Page B

if they sailed long distances, and it’s also a traditional symbol of love and loyalty. You already said I’m loyal. And I love my friends. Mostly though, my tattoos are to do with the saying, ‘One swallow doesn’t make a summer’. Some people say two swallows. I’m not sure which is right. In any case, I decided to have three to see if that did the trick.”
    “So, three swallows make a summer then? Is that right?” His tone is low and sexy as he murmurs the words at the back of my ear, his breath now tickling my lobe.
    “I…yes…maybe.”
    “Definitely. Your bum says so.”
    I start slightly as he traces his fingertips around the swallow highest on my right buttock, but I remain in place, allow him to explore.
    “The artwork is beautiful, the colors so intricate. How long did it take to do this?”
    “Each one took about two hours to etch in, then a couple of weeks to heal up. It’s a painful process.”
    “I can imagine. A good hard spanking will be a doddle in comparison, I daresay. And it only takes a fraction of the time. Maybe I’ll need to think about something a little more intense for you? Something with more staying power?”
    “No! I mean, no, thank you,” I blurt out my refusal more sharply than I intended.
    He chuckles, and my attention shifts from the swallows on my bottom to the butterflies in my stomach. Curiosity notwithstanding, I’m still terrified. There’s no denying that. But neither can I deny my growing arousal at Dan’s touch against my skin, sensuous but featherlight, almost not there are all. I’m beginning to wish he’d touch me perhaps with more obvious intent. For the first time in my life, it feels good to have a man’s hands on me. I’m scared, astonished at myself, and almost breathless with anxiety.
    Without doubt, this unfamiliar fluttering in my lower abdomen is sexual arousal, something I never even imagined, let alone expected to experience after my sordid introduction to sexuality. But it’s there and growing more intense every minute.
    “Kneel down.”
    Ah, not quite ready to touch me yet then. I glance around, wondering where to position myself.
    “Usually I like to make a new submissive kneel on the hard floor. It’s good training. But you can use a mat. Over there.” He points to a small stack of brightly colored foam mats in a corner. “Go fetch one of those, place it in the middle of the floor, and kneel on it, facing me.”
    Feeling incredibly self-conscious, I do as he’s instructed me. I drop the mat on the floor and sink to my knees on it.
    “Back straight, but keep your eyes on the floor in front of you. Lay your hands on your thighs, palms up. Knees slightly apart. I’ll need you to spread them wider in a little while because I’ll want to see your clit. For now though, I’ll train you in the ‘at rest’ position.”
    I shuffle and shift to adopt the position he’s described, inwardly shivering some more—and not particularly in a good way—at the prospect of having my clit inspected. Jesus!
    “Okay, that’s good. Nice posture, Miss Jones. Very sexy, very submissive.”
    I follow him out of the corner of my eye as he strolls over to the couch, shoves my clothes to one side, and sits down. He settles back as he watches me carefully.
    “Are you comfortable, Miss Jones?”
    Not in the slightest . “Yes, perfectly. Thank you.”
    “Excellent. There are some things I need to explain to you. I want you to listen carefully. I need to make sure you understand fully what’s happening and what’s going to happen to you. You may find it easier if you look at me while I’m talking to you.”
    I lift my gaze to meet his. He’s leaning back on the couch, watching me quite dispassionately. So much for the prospect of unbridled lust, unleashed and running rampant at the sight of my naked body. He gives the impression of a man wondering idly if there might be some grass to watch growing somewhere nearby. I drag in a breath, resigned to at