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My job was to train Will to submit without being submissive, an important distinction. And I was told I was perfect for the task since, like Solange, I was also new to this particular scenario.

Thankfully, Angela came by to give me some last-minute pointers, this scenario being a specialty of hers. Last year, she had trained my recruit, Mark Drury, in a session I got to monitor. So like her, I chose a white wraparound dress and high heels. She helped me pin my hair up on my head in a sexy, messy pile.

“It’s a red lipstick kind of night, Cassie,” she said, regarding me in the mirror.

“It is.”

“Nervous?”

“Very.”

“Good. That means it’ll be great,” she said, putting the finishing touches on my makeup. “Worry when you’re not nervous.”

She handed me a tangle of thick, red satin ribbons.

“Use these,” she said. “I have a feeling you’ll need to restrain him quite early in the session. And remember to enter that room like a boss. Handle that man like you own him. That’s Solange’s fantasy. Show him exactly how to let her.”

Oh right—Solange. I’m doing this for her.

I thanked Angela, giving in to a powerful urge to hug her. She let me for a long time, returning the warmth.

“Thank you,” I said, over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said, not one for a lot of mushiness. “He may very well be S.E.C.R.E.T.’s last recruit, Cassie. So teach him well, and make us proud.”

I nodded, surprised at how choked up I was suddenly. Last recruit. S.E.C.R.E.T. had given me so much. It was sad to imagine that it could end soon, that no other woman would benefit from everything this group had given me and taught me.

Equipped with my red ribbons, I walked—no, strutted—down the long, thick-carpeted hall of the Mansion’s East Wing. I pushed open the doors to the Games Room, chosen because it was bright and plush with a billiard table at one end and a large cozy sitting area at the other; I wanted Will to feel comfortable. The first thing I saw was my own reflection in the mantel mirror. I was shocked at the slash of red on my lips, the tumble of curls, the epic cleavage! It’s too much, I thought, covering my breasts with the ribbons. But the truth was that my breasts looked spectacular in this dress! And my shock was soon replaced with sheer delight. I stepped closer to the mirror, placing the ribbons on the mantel. The woman in the mirror was definitely a version of me, one of a few that S.E.C.R.E.T. had helped me uncover.

Turns out I was a multifaceted woman with layers and complexities and there were still more versions of me to discover. I was a widow and a waitress. I was a friend and an adventurer, a boss, a caregiver, a co-worker, a S.E.C.R.E.T. member, a business partner, a mentor, and a lover (a good one at that!). I was all of these things. And now I was this woman too—a trainer, a helper, a giver, a leader, a guide. But at the very core, I’d always be Cassie Robichaud, the girl from Michigan.

I heard the knocks. One, two, three …

I braced myself against the purple velvet divan in front of the fireplace.

“Come in,” I croaked.

The door opened and there stood my Will, a man who knew every version of me, now including this one. But here was another version of Will, too, at first a nervous version who, while taking me in head to toe, seemed to become a gob-smacked teenager.

“Holy shit, Cassie!” he said, slapping his chest. “Look at you. You look so … I don’t even know what to say … except wow.”

I fought off the urge to grin and blush. I had to remember I was training him to be dominated—“without feeling emasculated,” Angela stressed.

“Thank you, Will, that’s very sweet to hear,” I said before turning stern. “But I need you to go back outside and try that again, okay? This time you have to be … you have to hold back a bit. Smolder. Try to forget it’s me. Try not saying anything at first. Just take me in. Let it kind of wash over you.”

Wow. I said all of that, and he listened so intently I almost climbed over the divan to grab his face and kiss it, he was that cute.

“Smolder. Okay. I got it,” he mumbled, exiting the room and quietly shutting the door

behind him.

I waited for the knock. And I waited. And I waited. Ten seconds later, I heard his voice through the door.

“Cass? Am I supposed to knock again?”

“Yes, Will!” I yelled. “Knock again.”

“Knock and come in? Or knock and wait for you to answer the door this time?”

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