Free Adventurous Me by Deanndra Hall

was too nervous.” He looks like he’s about to ask me something, but changes his mind.
    The adventure is about to begin, but I’ve got a feeling the fun is at an end. Yup – it’s gonna be a long two weeks.

    We stop and have a burger on our way to Clint’s; he barely speaks to me while we’re eating. I’d already packed some things, so I didn’t have to stop at home. When we pull up to his house, I’m surprised. It’s just a normal, modest-looking house. I don’t know what I was expecting. A house of horrors, maybe? Like the Bates Motel? Who knows?
    I open the car door but before I can get out, he’s there. As soon as I stand up, he says, “From this point on, you will allow me to assist you with doors, chairs, all of those kinds of things. It’s a sign of my respect for you.” That one surprises me. “As long as we’re outside the house in the vanilla world, we’ll act vanilla – with a few exceptions. Once inside, it’s my rules.”
    He opens the door and motions for me to pass him and go inside, then turns on the light. It’s a nice house, nice furnishings, kind of warm and homey. I think I was expecting industrial steel and vinyl and spotlights, with eye bolts on every surface. Not like that at all. Then he gives me the grand tour. “Living room, kitchen,” he points, “and the laundry room is back there.” Down the hallway we go. “My bedroom and bath.” Two of the doors are closed; he doesn’t open them, but he points to one and says, “Home office.” At the end of the hall he opens a door and points in. “Your room.”
    I have my own room. Now I’m confused. In answer to my unspoken question, he says, “Sometimes you will be in my bed. But not always. And if things get too intense, this gives you a sanctuary to quiet your mind and rest, somewhere to retreat to.”
    I whisper, “Thank you, Sir.” Once I’ve dropped my bag on the bed, I follow him back into the living area.
    He motions for me to take a seat on the sofa, and I remember I don’t have panties on. I look at the cushions and he says, “Oh. Sorry.” He disappears for a few seconds and comes back with a bath towel, which he spreads out on the sofa. Then he motions for me to sit again, and I try to be graceful as I do.
    “Protocol. I am the master of this house. It’s literally my way or the highway here. You are the sub. You are not a slave. You are not expected to do all of the housework, but I would appreciate it if you did some.”
    “I won’t mind at all, Sir.”
    “Good. You will be nude at all times inside the house unless I specify otherwise, or unless you’re performing a task that would be dangerous to your skin. Your only articles of clothing will be a training collar and the heels I give you. Size seven and a half?”
    I gasp. “How did you know that, Sir?”
    “Good guess.” He stops, then starts again. “You will wear the training collar for as long as you’re here. That will make restraining you easier in a jam.” What kind of jam would make me need to be restrained? I don’t really understand that, but I nod. “You will meet me at the door when I come in. I expect you to be nude and in the collar and heels, kneeling at the door in presentation. Be aware that I may fuck you immediately upon returning home.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “I am not a sadist, but I do enjoy bondage, restraints, and discipline sessions with my subs. This is only for the purpose of arousal. I will, however, punish if needed for an infraction. Discipline and punishment are very different. You’ll learn the difference. But know this: Sex will never be used to punish. Never. I don’t believe in that. And I think the punishment should fit the crime. With that in mind, a word of warning: I can be very creative in my punishment methods, so be afraid.” He doesn’t crack a smile, and I swallow hard.
    “You will sleep in your room unless I tell you to stay in my bed. If I want, I will chain you to the bed so you cannot get