Free Make Me by Tamara Mataya

fraction of Darko’s appeal. I’m still ridiculously turned on.
    I jot notes onto my pad of paper, things to look up later, or ask Darko.
    -How many people live on the property? Do they live there, or are they just staying for The Games?
    -The Games are where submissives compete for memberships, but why don’t they just go the regular route? What’s the incentive to compete in The Games? Is it the best of the best kind of thing? Prestige? Are there amazing prizes?
    -Are there punishments for losing?
    -How often do they happen?
    -Does Darko live there? Does anyone?
    I can’t picture him outside, but obviously he has a life. What’s the best angle? There’s no way to tell until I’ve had a few experiences with Darko and seen what subs go through. At least I’ll have a little time to ease into that before getting more hardcore—if we go there at all.
    My phone rings. “Hello?”
    “How’s my creative genius doing?”
    Yes! “Hi, Shawna. I’m fine. You got my email, I take it?”
    “Sure did. I loved the idea for the article. ‘Sex, Lies, And Ziptape. The Dangerous World Of Kink.’”
    Thank God, otherwise I’d have to come up with another way to take down the club and prove to Tessa it’s a bad place. But I didn’t make up that title when I pitched the idea for the article. Shawna must be really into the idea if she’s coming up with titles. “Great. I’m going big with this one, Shawna.”
    “When can you have this to me?”
    Damn. “I’m going deep, so it’s going to take some time.”
    “You’ve got two weeks.”
    I drop the pen. “That’s not enough time. There was also a matter of a non-disclosure agreement. I have to be very careful here.”
    “You know we have ways of getting around them. Look, I know you. You’re thorough and methodical and you’re going to overthink this. You’ll do just as well in two weeks as you would if you had six months.”
    Panic presses against my chest. “No, that’s just not possible. I’ve got an in, but the angle hinges on trust. I can’t possibly earn their trust and get everything I need in two weeks.”
    “There’s another feature going in, ‘Feminazis: Is Empowerment Hurting Women?’ It’s a perfect contrast to yours, and I can’t delay that one. I expect the article on my desk three weeks from today.”
    She hangs up.
    Three weeks is better than two, but there’s no way I can ease into this to get used to the idea. It’s make or break, and I’ve got to get started.
    I’d love to take a hot bath and soak all my tension away, but arming myself with knowledge is what will relax me more, so I head back to the kitchen and hit the books.
    Three hours later, I’m wiser in the ways of BDSM and also hornier and more confused than ever. I’ve been reading for hours that felt like minutes. My legs are stiff and my stomach rumbles, surprising me. I’d been so absorbed in the reading that I hadn’t noticed how hungry I am until now. I grab an apple and some cheese and return to my chair.
    Am I really going to be able to do this training? As turned on as I was watching the video of Darko with the submissive, I’ve never even heard of a lot of the things in these books before—and some of them scare me.
    Several of the practices I read about are pretty much mainstream: rough sex, bondage, role playing, spanking. I’ve never really role-played, but I never had a partner who expressed interest in it, and I didn’t think to initiate it myself. Rough sex was more my thing—urging my boyfriends with body language, or screaming at them to go harder worked. Although, really, I always felt weird about telling them to go harder or faster, like they should just know how I wanted it. It was embarrassing to ask, though I’m not sure why.
    More hardcore practices? I had no idea these were things that people do. Some of them made my stomach squirm like a snake orgy. Discomfort at reading about knives being brought into the scenes made me want to put the