The female trainer at the table replied, “I concur with the submissive. Master Allen was oblivious to her discomfort until he asked.”
“Thank you for your observations, Ms. Taylor,” Sir said. “You may kneel.”
Lea immediately settled on the floor in a graceful motion.
Sir addressed Mary next. “Give us your assessment of Mr. Hall’s performance, Miss Wilson.”
Mary answered, “He still has a lot to learn, Sir. The cautious way he used the crop was a complete turn-off. He might as well have hit me with a wet noodle.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
Sir replied with ice in his voice, “Miss Wilson, a respectful evaluation is expected of a submissive. Demeaning your Dom’s performance is neither welcomed nor appropriate.”
Brie felt a chill run through her bones, even though she was not the one being corrected.
Mary answered meekly, “Sorry, Sir.”
“Reword your statement,” Marquis Gray instructed, his face expressionless.
Mary took a deep breath before starting again. “Lord Hall was not confident with his use of the crop.”
The bald trainer at the other table interjected, “I believe some of the fault lies with you, Miss Wilson. I noticed you were emotionally unreadable, which made you difficult to work with. It surprises me, considering the extensive training you’ve received at this school.”
Brie shuddered at the trainer’s assessment of Mary. She had never thought that by evaluating the training Doms, they might end up inviting negative comments from the Dominant trainers themselves. However, she realized she had been foolish to think otherwise. As submissives, they were always under scrutiny—always.
Ms. Clark challenged Mary by asking, “You started with his weakness, but I would like to know his strengths.”
Mary took quite a while to answer. “He was…good-looking and pounded me decently.”
All eight trainers stared at her without comment.
Mary was failing miserably with her evaluation, so Sir mercifully cut it short. “What would you rate him?”
“A three, maybe four.”
“Since I find your evaluation a waste of our time,” Sir stated, “kneel down and rethink your answers. We will speak after class.”
Mary sank to the floor slowly.
“Miss Bennett,” Sir began, his voice tainted with irritation. Although she knew it wasn’t directed at her, Brie still felt a quelling of her spirit. “How would you evaluate your Dom’s performance?”
“Sir, I would rate Faelan a seven.”
The brawny trainer from the other team jumped on her statement. “Why so high? Explain yourself.”
“I know it may seem odd, considering we did not have intercourse, but it was that very fact that set him apart.” Brie braved a look at the Dominant trainer. “I’m not sure how well I would have handled a more intimate encounter because I’m acquainted with Faelan outside of class. The fact he chose to tease rather than conquer me was shrewd. It left me craving another session with him.”
Ms. Clark asked, “Had he demanded intercourse, would you have complied?”
“Of course,” Brie answered, remembering to keep her eyes lowered when she answered the Dominatrix. “However, it would have been out of obedience, not personal desire.”
Brie heard the woman trainer at the other table remark, “I did find his choice of scene odd, but it makes sense now.”
“Miss Bennett.” Brie looked up, and a distinguished white-haired gentleman nodded to her. “What do you see as a weakness of Mr. Wallace?”
She answered with apprehension, “Although Faelan read me well throughout the scene, he did come across a little overconfident.”
Brie saw the female trainer smile. The fourth man, a striking Native American, replied, “A valid point.” Brie had presumed the bald man was the leader of the panel, but the authoritative way this Dom spoke said differently. He glanced over to Sir. “I think we have what we need from your submissives.”
Sir ordered Brie to kneel. She followed his command as all of the Dominant trainers got up from their table and left the room. Sir followed them out and spoke to the head trainer in the hallway for several minutes.
It allowed Brie time to reflect on the scene with Faelan. It shocked her that through that short encounter, Blue Eyes had accomplished the one thing she did not want. The light caress of his feather still lingered on her skin, causing goose bumps of desire for the boy.
A New Kind of Clubbing
Brie had a fitful sleep that night. Her heart was being pulled in too many directions and that played out in her dreams. Tono ripped the sash from his kimono and wrapped it over her eyes while Faelan restrained her in chains, but on the sidelines the buzzing sound of Marquis Gray’s violet wand all but drowned out Sir’s command for her. She woke up drenched in sweat, crying out a name, but unable to recall which man’s name had been on her lips.
Why? Why did Blue Eyes have to complicate things even further?
Brie couldn’t go back to sleep, so she pulled out her laptop and looked up the meaning of Faelan. She read that it was an old Irish word meaning ‘young wolf’. The boy was pursuing her like a single-minded predator, but he hadn’t jumped her like a mindless beast. No, he was drawing her in by denying her—clever boy.
The next day, Brie asked Mr. Reynolds if she could leave an hour early. He seemed to be in an especially chipper mood and gave her the afternoon off. She took the extra time to soak in the tub, cover herself in silky lotion and work on her hair, makeup and nails. She made sure everything was perfect, down to the minutest detail. It was important to Brie to make a good impression on her new community.
Brie pulled up to The Haven and saw Mary standing outside, next to the five trainers. She was surprised and a little disappointed not to see Tono in attendance as well. She had naturally assumed, because of his mastery of Kinbaku, that he would be part of the outing. She wondered if he was already inside, showcasing his talents. Even if she didn’t get the chance to work with him tonight, just seeing him would do her heart good… Or maybe not. Could she really handle watching another sub enjoy his gift of the rope?
She left her long coat in the car, letting out a nervous sigh before locking it. The place looked like a trendy nightclub, complete with neon lights. Couples passed by as she made her way to the group—men in dark shirts and jeans with duffle bags over their shoulders and women in fuck-me shoes, collars, vinyl outfits or extremely short skirts.
Brie suddenly found herself praying that Tono was not inside. She realized she could not handle seeing him harmonize with someone else, and that new revelation disturbed her. What did it mean? She walked over to Mary and stood beside her, unable to hide the unease she felt.
Naturally, Sir noticed and commented. “Are you ready for tonight, Miss Bennett? Unlike most clubs, this one allows for sexual interaction.”
She looked him in the eyes and melted, all other concerns instantly forgotten. “I’m looking forward to mingling with the local D/s community, Sir.”
Master Coen spoke up. “Actually, Miss Bennett, you will not be mingling. You are only here to observe and perform.”
Brie felt a warm tingling in her loins when he said the word ‘perform’. What would it be like and who would she be partnered with? Possibly Sir? The anticipation heightened her sense of arousal.
Lea had shown up during the short exchange. The three girls were given strict instructions to remain at the sides of their trainers and to observe only. Sir paired up each student with a trainer, giving Brie to Master Anderson. She had to swallow her disappointment.
Master Anderson held out his arm to her. Brie looked up into his intense green eyes and was surprised by the thrill of connection she felt. He definitely had that commanding Dom quality she adored, but Brie knew so little about the man. She assumed the connection was due to him being good friends with Sir, which made Master Anderson a conduit of sorts. Being with him was a little like being wit
h Sir.
Brie held her breath as they walked through the doors, curious as to what she would find on the other side. She was surprised to see that it looked similar to a normal club, with a large gathering area in the middle full of people milling about. Her idea of a dark dungeon with the screams of submissives filling the air was not a reality for this stylish venue.
It wasn’t until she looked to the right that she saw the real entertainment. Along the peripheral walls were numerous alcoves. Each one seemed to have its own theme and equipment. The one closest to her had a spanking horse. It was a padded bench with side rails so that the submissive could sit comfortably and remain still during the session. The girl lying down on the bench had on scarlet vinyl pants with the ass cheeks cut out, leaving the exposed skin open for punishment. The Dom behind her was spanking her with a large wooden paddle. Her moans of pleasure echoed in the room, joining the cries of several others.
Brie felt a gush of wetness between her legs in response to their passionate reactions. This was so her kind of place!
Master Anderson broke from the group and led Brie around to each scene, adding commentary from time to time. “Do you see the way she is anticipating each stroke of the cane and moving slightly just before it hits? The Dom should really correct her. It’s only showcasing his inexperience and ruining the scene.” Before they moved to the next alcove, Brie caught a whiff of a fragrance she instantly identified as sandalwood. She wondered where it was coming from.
When they stepped closer to the next scene, she noticed a pleasant trace of musk. The alcove itself had an impressive St. Andrew’s cross made of smoky glass with black leather cuffs. The aroma seemed the perfect complement to the environment.
The man bound to the cross was enduring the focused attention of his Mistress, who was teasing his cock with electricity. The man’s guttural cries sent a shiver through Brie. There was no doubt he was turned on, based on the rigidness of his member.
Master Anderson squeezed her hand and moved her on to the next scene. He had to part the crowd that had gathered so Brie could see what was happening.
The scent of jasmine filled Brie’s nostrils, adding to the visual of three brown-haired subs kneeling on the ground, attached together by a string of nipple clamps on a chain. She had never seen anything like it and found the scene erotic, although she knew from personal experience that nipple clamps hurt.
The Dom went to the first girl and allowed her to suck his cock while the two others watched. His hand combed through her short hair and he said something to her that made her smile with his cock still in her mouth. He pulled away from her and went to the middle girl. He guided his shaft into her mouth and commanded that the other two play with his balls while he face-fucked her.
Brie looked down at the floor, overcome with desire.
“Do you like what you see, my young Miss Bennett?”
She made sure to speak loudly enough for him to hear without disturbing the scene. “Yes, Master Anderson.”
He leaned down and told her, “Tonight you shall address me as Master.”
Brie braved a look into his luminous green eyes, realizing that he was more than a trainer tonight; he was to be her partner. She answered quietly, “Yes, Master.”
Master Anderson smiled mischievously when he asked, “Can you guess what my specialty is?”
She stared up at the towering Dom, at a loss for words, so she just shook her head in response.
“I am the master of the bullwhip. Have you ever felt its bite?”
Again, Brie shook her head, afraid to speak. The bullwhip was a far more intimidating appliance than any flogger.
“Do not fret, Miss Bennett. I can whip you with the lightest of touches.” He lightly brushed a fingertip against her arm. “Or cut you deep with a quick snap of my wrist.” He said it matter-of-factly, without malicious intent.
Brie let out a nervous sigh. “I look forward to feeling your expertise, Master.”
His laughter was low and engaging. “I like your enthusiasm, young Brie. It contrasts so well with the look of apprehension showing on your face.”
Master Anderson led her to an especially long and empty alcove, ripe with the clean scent of an ocean breeze, which made perfect sense as the inside walls were painted a calming blue. It contrasted sharply with the chains hanging from the ceiling.
“Our time has come, Miss Bennett.”
Brie’s loins contracted in…what? Fear or excitement? She wasn’t sure. She bowed to him and answered dutifully, “Yes, Master.”
“You will remove all your clothes, except for your skirt.”
She quickly undressed to his specifications, but squeaked unconsciously when she saw Sir hand Master Anderson a fierce-looking leather whip, the kind Indiana Jones used. It looked far, far more menacing than Marquis’ flogger. Brie put on a brave face, knowing that Sir was going to observe the scene. To calm herself, she focused on keeping her body supple and pleasing while she waited for the next order.
“Very good, slave. Move over to the X on the floor and face the wall. Put your feet on either side of it. It will be the stance you remain in for the entire scene.”
“Yes, Master.” Brie trembled when he took her left wrist and lifted it high, then buckled it into the leather cuff attached to the chain.
She could feel the eyes of others on her and sensed a crowd gathering. Master Anderson took her right arm and fastened it tightly. Then he pulled on the chain, spreading her arms out wider and making it taut. She swayed as he adjusted it, but did not move from her designated spot.
He leaned down next to her ear. “We will use the common safe words. I normally use a different phrase, but the rules of this establishment don’t allow for it. A simple ‘red’ will end our session, although I do not expect you will use it.” He moved to her other ear. “I plan to make you drip for me, slave.” He moved her long, brown hair to the front, covering her breasts and exposing her back. Then his warm lips landed on her neck and he sucked on the sensitive skin until it burned. Brie moaned softly as he pulled away, her whole body tingling from the contact.
He said from behind her, “I am going to warm up first. Listen to the crack of the whip and know that it will soon be caressing your skin.”
Brie jumped, her heart skipping a beat the first time the whip cracked beside her head and she felt the rush of air. Her nipples hardened into tight buds.
“You’re lucky you landed in the same spot, slave. But I will punish you next time, for I commanded that you must not move.” She could hear the amusement in his voice. He had obviously known she would jump.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and answered, “I will not move, Master.”
The whip cracked on the other side. It came with incredible speed and the sound of it hurt her ears. Brie twitched, but didn’t budge from her spot. Surprisingly, her pussy pulsed in response. Her time with Marquis had accustomed her body to the idea that pleasure could be found in pain.
“Are you ready, slave?”
Brie closed her eyes and said in a barely audible whisper, “Yes, Master.”
The first stoke landed and felt like a warm touch, nothing more. Brie opened her eyes in shock. She heard Master Anderson chuckle softly. “Were you expecting something different, slave?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Keep still as I warm up that lovely back of yours.”
The large whip came down on her over and over again, licking and warming her skin. It was exciting and sensual, while at the same time looking dramatic and painful. Brie loved it and wondered if the crowd was amazed at her brave silence.
“And now, slave, you will earn your stripes.”
Brie’s heart stuck in her throat. A whimper escaped her lips and was not lost on her Master.
“Is your heart racing? Good… I want you to count as I stroke your back. A set of six to start.”
Brie yelped when the first landed on her skin, leaving a burning heat in its path. “One,” she finally
remembered to call out.
“Color, slave?”
Brie took a deep breath before answering. “Green.”
She heard the snap as the next licked her skin, higher up her back. It stung and a groan escaped her lips before she uttered, “Two.”
He did not wait, lashing her a third time. “Three.” She gulped, debating whether to cry and let the pain release in the tears, or remain tearless and brave.
The fourth lashed across in the other direction, taking her by surprise and causing her to choke on her shriek. She knew he was waiting, so she called out, “Four.”
“You are a gutsy slave. I did not expect you to take it quietly.”
His compliment cemented her determination not to cry or scream. She took the next two lashes while breathing deeply, letting the tail of the whip reverberate on her skin, much as she had during her session with the cane.
“It seems you need it a little harder, slave.”
Brie’s whole body tensed as she suddenly realized her choice to be silent was sending him the wrong message. Will I ever learn?
He walked over to her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, little one. I know you are at your limit. I want to challenge you with two more that will bite. What is the point of taking the whip if you aren’t going to experience all of its character? However, I leave it up to you.”
Brie took several calming breaths while she thought about his offer. Master Anderson was right—she wanted to experience it all, even though she was uncertain if she could endure it.
“Hold on to the fact you are almost done. Only two more, slave, and then you will wear the proud marks of your fearless spirit.”
His words infused her with courage. Hadn’t she promised herself not to be afraid of things she hadn’t tried? “I will take two more, Master, if it pleases you.”
“Remember, as always, it only takes one word to set you free,” he murmured, kissing her neck before moving back into position.
Yes, she was the one in power. This was her choice.
Master Anderson announced to the crowd, “I want you to count this time.”