“What do you mean?” Willa looked around her, whipping her hair from side to side, trying to figure out what he meant. 

He winked, “Just good practice for later is all.”

She didn’t inquire further, as they were now moving through the house and she was distracted by the art on the walls. Great vistas spread before her in oils, framed beautifully to suit the picture within. Each one they passed and he barely glanced at she wanted a few more minutes just to stand and look. She thought that no one who had such taste could be a monster, right? 

He led her through the front of the house where most of the bedrooms were situated, then through a dining area, the big fancy kitchen, then to a door in one of the hallways. Nondescript, it looked like any of the other doors in the home. His eyes watched hers as he reached out to turn the handle and dropped her hand from his arm. 

“And here…is my playroom.” Matt stepped away from her side so she could move past him into the darkness. It was lightly lit from the hallway light, and he reached in behind her to switch on the light with a tap. As if in the scene from a movie, the lights slowly grew in intensity at the edges of each of the walls, until the room was bright. The walls shone in the shade of blood after having dried for an hour. Still very red, but darker in the corners where the light didn’t hit as strongly. There was a huge “X” made from wood, padded in maroon leather. Rings shone from the top, center, and bottom of each arm of the device, and she recognized it as a Saint Andrew’s cross, she’d seen them before in the videos she’d watch before bed at night. 

The floors were wood, gleaming clean, with a few items scattered here and there. Several umbrella stands stood around the room with canes and what appeared to be bats sticking out of them. She saw a few riding crops, recognized those easily enough, but some had striking surfaces unlike what she’d seen at riding competitions, shaped in hearts, some with barbs wound through the leather. Willa’s eyes lingered on those with a curiosity she wasn’t quick to attempt to label. Besides, all of the labels she was used to didn’t apply here. This was a fresh new frontier for her, and she felt the significance of standing on that precipice. 

She kept walking through the space, then started to reach out to touch something, and out of nowhere Matt’s hand appeared to catch hers. 

“Always ask permission to touch anything or anyone that doesn’t belong to you.” His voice was stern and soft, and she turned to face him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think…” she started. 

“You’re new, it’s okay. But remember that in the future. Don’t touch anything that doesn’t belong to you without asking first. And yes, you may touch anything in this room that catches your eyes. Including me, if you so wish.” He chuckled at that last line, for she already had wandered off, her hands up in anticipation of reaching for some of the items he had hanging in a fixture. It was a frame set into the wall, with several broken canes hung on the wall within the frame. She reached up and selected one of them, it appeared to be wooden but when she touched it and brought it down she could see that it was quite flexible, made of some stiff grass or soft willow branch perhaps. 

He reached out to touch the broken section, splintered but hanging on by a few fibers. “This is my trophy wall. Everything hanging within this frame was broken on someone during play.” 

“You mean broken ‘by’ someone?” She replied. 

“No. Broken on them.” He chuckled, “I could tell you the story of each one, when we have more time. My question, girly, is which one would you like to experience?”

Willa’s heart leapt into the back of her throat and she found it difficult to swallow. Funny how you never think about it until swallowing becomes inexplicably impossible. Here she was, with a cane in her hand that had been broken “on” someone, in a playroom that felt more like a dungeon, and the scene appeared to her suddenly with a tone of truth that she wasn’t used to. Reality came rushing back to her and she glanced around the room, then back at him. He nodded his reassurance, and she realized within that moment that her instincts weren’t telling her to run, which she could have expected before in other interactions with perspective suitors. Matt felt safe to her, he had requested consent all evening, through the dinner and ever since. He’d insisted upon her making a safe call. He seemed far too gentle and sincere to cause concern, and she trusted him. 

Swallowing, she handed him the broken cane, and turned. She chose the first thing she focused her gaze on, and went to grab it then hand it to Matt. Being playful, she presented the toy to him on her open palms held at chest height. 

His eyes quickly glanced up at her face, “Did someone teach you that?” His inquiry was genuine, as his eyes searched her own. 

“No, it just felt right. I was being silly, did I do something wrong?”

“You did everything right. More right than you know” was his reply as his eyes seemed to grow deeper in looking at her. She quirked her head at him in a silent question, but he chuckled and turned away. 

Matt led her to the St. Andrew’s cross on the opposite wall in the room. “If you feel comfortable, I would love to let you taste the toy you have chosen. I require full consent from you, always. So I need you to ask me to strike you with the dragon’s tail.”

She’d followed him towards the cross, dragon’s tail draped across her hands still. She entered the circle of space around the cross, then dropped to her knees, let her head fall forward, and lifted her hands toward him. 

“Please, Sir, may I have another?” The giggles escaped her in a torrent of energy wrought from her frayed nerves from the situation. A little bit of silliness went a long way for her in most situations, and this was no exception. 

Matt chortled so loudly that he bent over to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. Willa laughed too, holding her position to exaggerate the ridiculousness of her request and the words she’d chosen. They both laughed to the point of having to wipe away tears, fueled by elated emotions and anticipation. It felt good to her to have her playfulness enjoyed rather than scoffed at or shot down immediately. So many people didn’t have a sense of humor and carried through life forever overly serious about things. She wasn’t one of those people and thought she’d seemed to have found someone else who was as willing to laugh with her as she’d hoped. Their repartee in texting and emailing back and forth had always had elements of lightness, and in a world where so many had let her down it was nice to be able to return to her usual optimism. 

The thoughts of those who had hurt her and turned her back on her returned, and she sobered quickly. Matt noticed her energy change. 

“Yes, yes you may, girly. Though once you’ve had a few hits I imagine that you won’t ask for another again.” He stepped to where she still knelt, took the dragon’s tail from her outstretched hands, and helped her to her feet. 

“Now, I’d like you to remove the clothing from where you feel comfortable and where you would like to be struck with this.” He wiggled the tail at her, to shoo her closer to the cross.