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“Yes, I did have a mentor, and yes, he made me feel like I was clumsy and awkward,” Sebastian said. “He was a very elegant British man. He didn’t mean to make me feel small. I did that to myself.”
“So you felt small and that made you want to dominate a woman?” Jaye asked.
How to make him understand? When he’d taken this damn assignment, he’d thought he would show the man the ropes and then release him into the wild. Milo Jaye was more complex than a man who wanted to spank his girl. He was confused and searching for something. He needed knowledge. “It’s not about physical domination. Not from my viewpoint. It’s about need, I suppose. I needed to find a place in the world. I had been so very out of control and I found a way to take it again.”
“By spanking chicks.”
It made him chuckle. It kind of felt good to laugh. “No, although I admit, I do enjoy that. What I meant was I retook control of my life by helping other people. Domination doesn’t have to be sexual. The power exchange is about two people serving each other’s needs. I topped in a professional capacity while I was in England. I had clients who required what I like to call extreme accountability. They were people who were looking for discipline in their lives, but needed oversight.”
Jaye leaned over, obviously interested in the conversation. He’d dropped all his swagger. “Explain how that would work.”
“Say I have a client who’s a writer. She’s smart and very good at her job, but loses focus because she’s a social media junkie. We would write a contract and she would prove to me she got her word count done before she jumped on the Internet. If she did not, there would be strict punishments. Very often just the fact that a client is accountable makes them more disciplined. There were other clients who simply needed a way to relax. Some people would exercise or meditate. My clients found their relaxation through submission.”
Milo seemed to get very serious. “I thought it was all about sex. I did read some of what you gave me. It talked about how some people enjoy the sensation of pain.”
“Properly administered pain, but it’s different for everyone. For some people they accept the pain as a way to release their emotions.” Tiffany had cried, but it hadn’t been that horrible wail he’d heard when a submissive finally let loose after too much build up. Tiffany had cried because she hurt and then she’d grinned with almost pride. That was the moment he’d known what kind of sub she was. Nothing like what he’d dealt with before. She enjoyed the challenge, loved the pleasure she got, and yet she was still her happy, vibrant self even in the midst.
She was so bright, and he was a stupid moth to her flame.
“What am I supposed to get out of it? What do you get out of it?”
Pure pleasure. Emotion. Feeling for the first time in years. A vision of Tiffany smiling up at him slammed across his brain. “I get to feel like someone needs me for something more than helping them choose a glass of wine. I get to feel important for a few moments in the day.”
He got to briefly feel whole again.
Milo shook his head. “I don’t think that’s my problem, man, but damn. I now totally get it. I should join this place for the scenery. G, you look gorgeous.”
Gina was walking up the stairs wearing some fet wear. He was sure she looked lovely, but it wasn’t like he could really see her. Tiffany was all he could see. This was why he’d stayed away from her. He’d avoided her when they were in the dungeon, telling himself that they worked together. Such a hypocrite and such a coward.
She was stunning in a strip of a skirt and a tiny crop top that showed off the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. As he’d requested. She was wearing thigh-high fishnet stockings that showed off her long legs, made longer by the fuck-me heels that finished the outfit perfectly. Her hair was piled on top of her head, blonde ringlets framing her pretty face. The only real makeup he could tell she was wearing was ruby-red lipstick that made her mouth look like perfect sin.
And she was all his for now.
Tiffany winked Gina’s way and both women fell to their knees. Tiffany was graceful, her body finding the position with ease. Gina kind of crashed down and cursed, shoving her hair out of her eyes.
“Typically, Doms prefer the greeting without the cuss words,” Tiffany said with a smile that seemed to put the other woman at ease.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Gina replied.
“Head down. Palms up,” Tiffany instructed. “Though you should talk to your Dom about what sort of greeting he would prefer. Nothing is hard and fast. You should practice in the way that suits you both the best.”
“I thought this was all about suiting me. I’m the Dom, right?” Milo had that swagger back.
His boss was so going to owe him for not smacking the moron. “I thought you said you read the material. If you had, you would have seen that the brand of D/s I teach is as much about what the submissive needs as the Dominant. In some ways more, since the sub is truly in control.”
Tiffany’s head came up, her eyes sparkling with humor.
“Wait a minute. What’s the point in being the damn Dom if I’m not in control?” Milo asked.
Sebastian held a hand out to his sub. “I think we’re going to have to start with some conversation.”
Tiffany gracefully rose and took her place at his side. “I think that might be a very good plan, Master. Should I get us all something to drink?”
“I’ll take a beer,” Milo said.
Gina frowned as he helped her stand. “No, you won’t. Did you not read any of the rules? We can’t play if you have a beer…”
They began to argue and Sebastian sighed. How had crazy, chaotic, gorgeous Tiffany become the calm in the storm of his life? Yet there she was and all he wished was that they were back in their apartment, getting ready to settle in for the evening. She would put her head in his lap and read and the world would seem peaceful.
