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In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but feel proprietary pride in Lia’s graceful handling of the physically and mentally challengingKinbakusession. She hadn’t powered her way through it as she might have only the week before. Instead, she’d embraced the situation, surrendering with as much grace as any subject he’d worked with before.
“So, what’s next?” Mark asked.
While Beau understood Mark was asking a broader question, he answered in a narrower context. “I’m actually going to her parents’ house tonight with her for dinner. Since our informal contract extends through the evening, I plan to give her a few challenges to see how she handles submission outside the confines of a training session.”
“Her parents’ house,” Mark exclaimed. “How the heck did you manage that?”
Beau told Mark about the meeting with Lia’s mom. “I couldn’t have refused that invitation even if I’d wanted to. Loretta Duvall is a force of nature.” He paused, thinking about the first time he’d met Lia. “Remember, I mentioned I met Lia at a big society wedding?”
Mark nodded.
“She was with my baby cousin. He’s totally into the wholeWho’s Whoof Asheville society. And there was Lia beside him, all decked out in a silk gown and pearls. Now, I realize her mom probably had a hand in that. While I was at her place, Loretta showed up with a bunch of dresses and basically instructed Lia as to what she would wear for this dinner.”
“No kidding,” Mark mused. “Now I’m getting a better understanding of the pink hair and the tats and the kickass persona Lia projects. She’s trying to distinguish and maybe even separate herself from the whole Southern high society vibe.”
“Probably,” Beau agreed. “It just highlights how young she is. Still trying to separate from Mommy and Daddy.”
“Whoa,” Mark said. “That’s kind of harsh.”
Beau shrugged a little sheepishly. “Maybe you’re right.”
“So,” Mark said. “I repeat my question. What’s next? Maybe it’s time to move from a pure trainer/trainee relationship to something more…personal?”
Beau shook his head. “Not in the cards.”
“No?” Mark said, sounding genuinely surprised. “Maybe I’ve got it all wrong, but I could swear there’s a definite spark between the two of you. Jaime thinks so, too.”
“Maybe,” Beau grudgingly admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it. I mean, let’s get real here. Lia’s over a decade younger than I am. She’s basically still a kid.”
“You keep harping on this age thing,” Mark replied, frowning. “I didn’t see a kid today during that awesomeKinbakudemonstration. I saw a woman who responded with passion and grace. I also saw the way she was looking at you, bro. She’s into you. I guarantee it.”
“Nah,” Beau said dismissively, ignoring the sudden, bright flare of hope Mark’s words had ignited. “She’s into the experience I gave her. I’m sure you’ve seen it a lot as a trainer. It’s notmeshe’s into, even if she might think it is. It’s having someone connect with a core need and help her bring it into focus. I’m more of a mirror or a conduit. It’s not personal.”
“So, make it personal,” Mark persisted. “Take it to the next level.”
Beau snorted. “Since when did you become such a matchmaker?” He barked a laugh. “You and Loretta ought to get together. I spent less than a week with this girl and you’re ready to marry us off. I’m telling you—there’s nothing between us except the temporary connection between scene partners. End of story.”
Mark shook his head, his grin wry. “Yeah, sure, buddy. Keep telling yourself that.”
≈
He would be there any minute now. Lia tapped on her phone’s screen to read the text for the final time, on the off chance she’d missed any of the instructions.
I will arrive at your apartment at 6:30 this evening. You will leave the door unlocked. I will expect to find you on your knees by the front door, forehead touching the floor, arms crossed behind your back. You will have laid out the magenta dress and the shoes your mother bought for you. You will be wearing only the ropes I designed for you for this evening. You will wear the breast harness in place of a bra. Instead of panties, you will wear the rope belt, being sure to pull the crotch piece tight between your labia before tying it off at the waist. See you soon.
Lia rushed back to the bathroom for one last look at her ropes. Turning this way and that, she admired the simple breast harness Beau had designed for her using the soft linenKinbakurope. It fit like a bra, with shoulder straps and circles of rope around each breast like underwire, leaving her breasts bare. All she’d had to do was slip it over her head, fit herself into the rope cups and tie a simple square knot between her breasts to hold it in place.
The rope panties were even simpler—just a belt of rope around her waist with a second piece that went between her legs. This, too, she tied into place with a knot just above her tattooed mons.
Hurrying back into the living room, she shivered with anticipatory excitement as she assumed the position in front of the door. She got a kick out of the idea of showing up at her parents’ place in the matronly dress and sensible pumps, while secretly trussed in her Master’s rope beneath.
Something had shifted in her psyche during that amazing finalKinbakusession with Master Beau. It was as if there was a gear inside of her that had always been out of sync. Over the course of the week, Beau’s training had been slowly but surely shifting it into alignment. During that scene it had finally snapped into place with a subtle click. She felt, not so much different, as corrected, her inner submissive gears finally turning smoothly, perhaps for the first time in her life.
Beau had taken pains to remind her that their training contract was at an end after this evening, as if she needed reminding. He hadn’t said as much, and she hadn’t quite mustered the nerve yet to bring it up herself, but she was pretty sure he was going to take things to the next level between them.
In that regard, it was good that the official Enclave training was ending. Things would be a lot more intimate now that they were both back on their own turf. She’d changed the sheets, fluffed the pillows and even attached wrist and ankle cuffs to the bedposts.
Maybe it was topping from the bottom, but she preferred to think of it as being prepared. After all, as they’d drummed into her head at The Enclave, proper slaves anticipated their Master’s needs and desires.
