Dylan scrubbed both hands over his face. Fuck. He was so in over his head. He never should’ve accepted the role of Patrick in Drowning. All his dreams of being the dominant were crap, but he didn’t think portraying a submissive was wise, either. He couldn’t spank another human being—not even in fun. Wrapping someone in tape? Not going to happen. Could he handle those activities being done to him? He shuddered. Probably not.
“Dylan?” Master A dipped his head to look Dylan in the eye. His spiky hair glinted in the light. “What are you thinking? I can’t help until I know what’s going on in your mind.”
Dylan sighed. The relationship wouldn’t work with one-sided communication. He’d have to give a little. “I’m scared. Stupid as that sounds, I’m freaking terrified.”
“For one, you ask a thousand questions and I don’t know how to answer all of them. Two, I read something about hard and fast rules. I understand them, but I can’t wrap my head around what I saw. People actually call those activities pleasurable? I don’t get it. Three, I’m supposed to do some of this stuff on camera. I must be out of my God damned mind.”
“You’re an actor. You’re playing the part of someone who has been in that situation. It’s perfectly normal to be scared. I wasn’t perfect at my job for a long time.” Master A smiled. “It takes some getting used to and discovery. You won’t know some of your boundaries until you’ve played awhile.”
That made sense. He wasn’t necessarily jumping headlong into the lifestyle, but researching it. What scared Dylan the most was his growing desire to be in the place of the girl being spanked. He wanted to feel Master A’s hand on his ass and the burn of being hit. He’d always liked handcuffs and losing his sense of sight to a blindfold. Still…he needed a connection with Master A—something besides just a working relationship.
“Will you at least tell me your name?”