Free How to Reprimand Your Rock Star (DommeNation #2) by Mina Vaughn

“but I’ll get you to the beginner’s stuff soon. Just wanted you to see everything first.”
    “Thanks.”
    The next section of the store was a wall of cheerfully colored phalluses. Some were only penis-like in concept, what with the pearls and batteries and Jesus, why does it have two ends?
    “Do you have a vibrator?” Scarlett asked.
    I shook my head no.
    She pulled down a discreet little package that looked like a tube of lipstick. “Good for first-timers. Consider it a welcome gift from the Golden Apple. I’m really proud of you for taking this step—it’s hard for young people to own up to their kink. You’ve earned this.”
    “This won’t fool anyone,” I grumbled. She quirked an eyebrow at me. “I never wear lipstick.”
    Scarlett snickered at my feeble joke and we continued through the store. I was particularly taken with her restraints section—not just handcuffs, but beautiful skeins of rope, framed pictures of people hanging in the most interesting sexual cocoons, and metal bars were some of the items that caught my eye.
    “You like the idea of bondage more than pain,” she noted, nodding.
    “I guess,” I said, skimming the section. It was true. I wanted to torture Keaton a bit, but really only playfully. But to pin him down? To immobilize him? Yes, please. “What’s this?” I asked, pointing to something that just looked like shiny duct tape.
    Scarlett grinned, all teeth. “That’s bondage tape,” she said, pulling a yard off the roll and spreading it wide. “Flexible, and sticks to itself and not your partner.” Scarlett took my arm and wound the tape around it. At the end, she managed to fasten it simply by sticking two parts together. I touched the tape, felt its slick surface, and nodded.
    “I want that.”
    Scarlett slipped three rolls onto her forearm and paraded me through the rest of the store. I ended up picking out a pair of patent leather heels and a tawse. She giggled at that.
    “So, tell me about Mister Wonderful,” she said as she rang me up.
    I rolled my shoulders. “He’s um, interesting.” I didn’t want to tell her who he really was, a rock god. Scarlett would probably say he was the one with the power and that I was just a stupid groupie. I also didn’t want to disclose Keaton’s secret preferences with her.
    Scarlett licked her lips. “I like complicated ones. Tell me more.”
    I thought about it for a moment, and decided there were certainly things I could disclose. “He’s a little mischievous, a little wild, but he wants me in control. He’s definitely complicated.”
    She leaned forward across the counter and looked at me with frighteningly honest green eyes. “So do you want me to tell you how to do this or do you want to fumble your way into his bed? By the sound of him, I’d say you want to go in prepared.”
    “I don’t even know what this is,” I confessed, burying my face in my hands, joining her at counter level. Here was the hard part, admitting I was into this and that I was completely in over my head. I was supposed to be focusing on the tournament for goodness’ sake, not picking out special tape that lets you tie someone up. My lucky roll should be all I need.
    But it’s not. So I let her continue.
    “ This is called BDSM. But I think we’ll stick to the basics for now—dominance and submission. Power play. And you, my dear, hold the power.”
    I breathed in deep, letting her words fill the spaces between my desires. “So, does that make me a dominatrix?” I asked.
    She clicked her tongue. “Does he plan on paying you?”
    “No!” I said then hesitated. “I don’t think so.”
    Scarlett nodded. “I’m a dominatrix, a professional who gets paid to entertain submissive men. You, my dear, would be a Domme—a dominant woman who enjoys when people submit to her. Similar, but different enough.”
    I nodded, soaking in the lingo.
    “So what’s Keaton?” I asked, shocked at myself for letting the name slip.
    She didn’t