“Good. Yeah, it’s not a neutral phrase. Anything else?”
“It’s too long to say if something is a problem,” offered an older man off to the left.
“Good. Anyone else?”
Amanda raised her hand. Vincent glared at her and then nodded. “Yes, Amanda?”
“It’s something I might want to actually say and mean during our scene!”
She said it with perky enthusiasm, and everyone laughed.
“I think that’s rather unlikely,” said Vincent drily. “But yeah, that’s a good point about safe words in general. Don’t use a sexy scene word that you might want to say for some other reason. Use something that’s completely unrelated. The name of a fruit. A brand name. Make it something that if you have to say it, there will be absolutely no doubt in your partner’s mind that you intended to stop the scene. Amanda, may I restrain you while I’m flogging you?”
“Oh, yeah, if you don’t tie me down, I’ll probably kick.”
“Thanks for the tip. Do you have any medical problems I need to know about?”
“Asthma. But it doesn’t happen often, and my inhaler is in my bra, so just reach in and give it to me if I need it.”
“Um, nice placement. And what do you need for aftercare?”
“I like to be cuddled, but nothing sexual please, unless we negotiate it some other time. Sometimes I can get kinda all melty after a flogging, and I don’t want to be taken advantage of, so just hold me and maybe put a blanket on me.”
“Do you like to have something to drink?”
“Yes, just water, though.”
“I can do that. I’ve got a blanket and bottled water in my bag.”
“Great, sounds like we’ll have a good scene! But what do you like for aftercare, Sir?”
Vincent turned again. “See how this is a give-and-take? We both ask questions. We both give answers about what we want. We need to make sure we understand each other’s limits. We’ve mostly done that by expressly negotiating what we can do—this is just a simple flogging, with restraint, and I’m not going to assume I can do anything else. But in other scenes, you’ll want to negotiate what you won’t do. Just be aware that no one can ever list every single thing they won’t do. Also, Amanda made an excellent point. Sometimes in midscene, someone wants to do things they didn’t want to do at the beginning. That’s hot! But if they’ve placed that activity specifically off limits, then don’t push it, even if you get consent during the scene. Hopefully the person will want to play with you again, and this time you might negotiate other limits. And there is nothing wrong with leaving your partner wanting more, especially if you want to play with them again.”
“Always leave your sub wanting more. Unless it’s me,” said Amanda.
“Thanks everyone for listening!” said Vincent.
People started clapping, and Amanda bowed deeply. Her shirt was loose in the front, and while she didn’t have large breasts, the motion exposed a generous amount of attractive cleavage, and sure enough, poking out between the two lovely mounds of exposed flesh was an asthma inhaler. Jeremy was intrigued. Clearly, she was hamming it up, but he wondered how much of what he saw was the real person and how much was put on. Was she really that much of a brat? It was certainly a far cry from what he was used to with Cheri—and from what he’d always assumed a submissive should be. Hell, he wasn’t sure Amanda was a sub at all. But she was certainly entertaining.
She slipped away up the stairs on the far side of the room and into one of the little rooms. He hadn’t meant to follow her with his gaze. The way her skirt fluttered against her legs as she walked was enticing, and as she mounted the stairs, he caught a glimpse of the undercurve of her ass. It wasn’t quite enough to be sure whether or not she was wearing panties. Why do I care? But somehow, he did. “Is that the best you can do, sissy boy?” It was the very epitome of a smart-assed masochist remark, but there was no doubt it was the sort of remark that deserved a spanking. His bare hand, her butt—she’d only say that to him the once. He also knew he was getting a hard-on at the sight of her legs and the idea of having her over his knee. He couldn’t stop looking until she disappeared from view.
Elizabeth was talking about the rules of the club. He hadn’t missed anything too important since they were available online, and he’d read and memorized them, but he knew that some wouldn’t. Then Gray talked about how to get a club membership. He paid attention, wondering if he was going to come to the place again and whether it would be worth it. It was all so strange, and so many of the people here were so young—about the age he’d been when he first started exploring with Cheri, he supposed. He belonged, and he didn’t. Even Gray and Elizabeth were younger than he was, although he suspected not by more than a decade. Still, there were some more mature faces in the crowd.
The biggest strangeness wasn’t being older. It was not having Cheri at his side. He could come and watch and be with other kinky people, but he didn’t think he could just watch other people play very many nights and be happy about it. Eventually, he’d stop or have to find someone to play with. He wasn’t sure he even remembered how to do that. It’s been a few years since Cheri and I played. But it’s been forever since I asked someone out on a date who might say no. He knew the answer to that, however. He’d have to collect a few rejections, and they’d not sting too much.
“Demo stations have been set in each of the side rooms,” Elizabeth said, “and we’ll put up a few down here too. Feel free to go from room to room. Look at what interests you. Look at some of what doesn’t interest you too, so you see what’s out there. Ask questions. Have fun.”
* * * *
“Are you a dom?” The girl asking looked young enough to be his daughter, and Jeremy was tempted to lie. He had seen her earlier, during the presentation. She was clearly new. They had both been watching a waxing demonstration when she had turned to face him.
“Yes,” he said.
“Oh.” She knelt suddenly, surprising him. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Get up,” he said. “You don’t have to kneel to every dom you see.”
“But I want to serve. Um, you, Sir.”
Touching. Was it really this easy? But the hard part was connecting with people that you wanted to play with. And while the girl was cute and he had to admit the view down her shirt was nice, she was way too young.
“On your feet,” he repeated. He was tempted to drag her up and assert his control. But that would send the wrong message.
She pouted and got to her feet.
“I’m flattered,” he said. “But didn’t you hear what they were saying about negotiation? Talk to people. Find out what they want, and if it’s what you want, by all means, serve. But you can’t go kneeling in front of people who look right, for whatever reason. You’ll end up with the wrong kind of person.”
“But I don’t know how to talk to doms.”
He chuckled. After all these years, he wasn’t sure he knew how to talk to subs, other than his own. “Start out by talking to people,” he suggested.
She shrugged and turned back to watch the wax.
He’d seen enough. He was tempted to go home. It wasn’t that he knew all the techniques being demonstrated, although he certainly knew most of it. But he still wasn’t sure what he hoped to find.
I’ll try one more demo.
He passed a station where Gray was demonstrating flogging. There was no shortage of men and women lined up hoping to be the next person he would demonstrate on. His technique was excellent but nothing new to Jeremy, and the crowd was thick. He moved on to peek into one of the side rooms.
In the next room, standing with a deerskin flogger in each hand, was Amanda. There were a few people gathered around, and the room was bare except for a St. Andrew’s cross. The sign in front of the station said Flogging #2, for dominants. There had been two people demonstrating rope techniques too. It made sense. Gray was showing subs how it felt. Apparently, Amanda was showing the would-be doms how to do it.<
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“So,” said one of the guys, “are we going to get to see what it’s like to flog you?”
“No,” said Amanda. “I may not be Master Gray, but I’m here to demonstrate some alternative flogging techniques. I will need someone to demonstrate on, though. Any volunteers?”
Jeremy stepped into the room, interested to see how this would play out. The red-and-blue leather floggers in Amanda’s hands interested him too. Rather than having conventional handles like the ones Gray was using, these had two little loops for Amanda’s fingers, and the tails were connected to those loops with a couple of links of chain, similar to the hinge of a pair of nunchaku.
No one raised their hand. As Amanda’s gaze swept the room, a woman dressed in a pencil skirt and a leather jacket said, “Don’t look at me.”
Jeremy shrugged and stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”
Amanda had a lovely smile, Jeremy discovered. The look she gave him was very different than the bratty grin that had been on display during the negotiating demonstration, but no less appealing.
“Thank you! I’m Amanda.” She stretched out her hand.
“Jeremy.” He clasped her hand. It was cool and soft, and he held on to it a moment too long. Their gazes met.
“Would you mind taking your shirt off?”
He shook his head and unbuttoned his shirt. There was a table with a few other floggers there. It was an eclectic collection. One was made out of a zillion little plastic laces. I bet that stings. The tails were short, though, so they wouldn’t hit with the same speed as a longer flogger. There were a few traditional floggers of various weights, each with a ball-shaped Turk’s-head knot at the end of the handle. There was a short little flogger, less than a foot long, with flat suede tails called a “pussy whip” because it would hit lightly enough to be useful on sensitive areas. Mixed in with the floggers was a riding crop with a pink heart at the end of it rather than the conventional flap. He folded the shirt and put it on the table.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
“Oh, just facing the cross. You can hug it if you want. That’s what I like to do.” She winked. “I’m not really a domme, but I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay. I’m not really a bottom.” He moved over to the cross but looked backward when someone asked a question.
“If you’re not a domme, why do you know how to swing a flogger?” asked the woman in the leather jacket. Jeremy thought she must be roasting in it. Excess was kept at a temperature where nudity would be comfortable.
“Because it’s fun. And because not everyone fits into neat categories. I can be what is called a service top, which means I can hit someone who wants to be hit, and get a charge out of that because I’m providing good service by doing so. But I also sometimes find it fun to do this.” Amanda took a step back, getting some distance from everyone, and started the floggers moving. The blue-and-red tails flew through the air, creating a lovely pattern, and simple twists of her wrists were enough to change the angles. It was like a kinky form of pom-poms, but far more elegant and beautiful than any of the cheerleaders Jeremy could remember. “It’s very relaxing. A good way to pass the time while waiting for a subway train.”
She delivered the line so flatly Jeremy thought for a moment she was serious.
Apparently so did someone else. “Doesn’t that bother security?” asked a man.
“Little bit.” Amanda winked. “The Maori people invented a performance art using what they call poi. People do it with big flaming things, or ribbons, or all sorts of things. For the Maori, it’s also a martial art. I’ve got some poi with the same balance but pretty glowing LED balls at the end, and no one can tell I’m being kinky. Anyway, anything that can be done with poi can be done with a flogger. Master Gray can tell you all about how to use a flogger effectively, and a flogging given by him is better than one given by me, I’m sure, although I’ve never been on the receiving end of mine.” She flicked the flogger back over her shoulder. “Much.” She did the other one. “Hardly ever.” She wiggled, and did both at once. “Mmm, baby,” she said and then pretended to come out of a trance. “Anyway. Sorry. I get distracted.”
By this point, she had people laughing. Jeremy was smiling too. Amanda was a natural ham. But he thought he detected something underneath all that, something that suggested that the attention-grabbing display was less than natural to her. Clearly, it met a need. But what was that need, exactly?
And why do I want to fill it? I don’t know her. The image of Cheri appeared to him. Amanda might be a sub and not a domme, but there the comparison ended. Cheri had been shy and wanted an order for every move at a club. She soaked in direction, flourished under it, and struggled when it was taken away. Amanda, on the other hand, seemed proudly self-sufficient and comfortable with a certain amount of ambiguity about her submissive role that would never have sat well with Cheri.
He wasn’t sure if he felt less or more faithful, being attracted to a woman who was different.
“Anyway, Master Gray can show you a lot about pleasing your bottom. What I can show you is how to look good doing it. And if you look good doing a flogging in a dungeon, you’re more likely to get partners asking you to flog them.” Amanda turned back to him. “Ready to go, Jeremy?”
“Yep.” Reluctantly, he turned his head away. He wanted to watch her, but as a dom he knew he’d want his sub facing away. Floggers were difficult to control precisely, and Amanda’s technique, while beautiful, wouldn’t make that any easier. If a tail did go higher than expected, one didn’t want it hitting someone’s face or, worse, their eye. A margin for error helped the top relax. However skilled Amanda was at waving floggers in the air, he suspected she didn’t do it on someone’s back nearly as often.
He remembered awkwardly asking a gay leatherman to give him a flogging. That must have been over twenty years ago, but he was a firm believer that he didn’t want to do anything to someone else that he hadn’t felt himself. The would-be doms watching Amanda might not want to be flogged, but they were missing an education by not volunteering.
Amanda draped the flogger over his shoulder, letting him feel the tails. He smiled. She knew, as he did, that familiarity with the texture went a long way to helping the body process what came next. Since the two she had in her hand were a matched pair, she didn’t have to do it twice, but she did. He turned his head briefly to grin at her.
She seemed surprised, but after a second grinned back. She thinks I’m a complete novice. He wasn’t going to correct her. It had been a long time. He supposed she thought his grin meant he was looking forward to the flogging rather than appreciation of her technique. Well, fine. She probably needs that to put her heart into it, if she’s a service top.
She swished the floggers through the air, but he had turned his head so he couldn’t see. He could hear, however, and feel the swoosh of the wind against his back. More psychology, but she was also probably getting the range, as well as showing off for the crowd. He reflected on her comment about how an attractive technique could get you noticed and get more play partners. He wondered, since she wasn’t a domme, if she then turned the tables and asked, “How about if you flog me?”
That would be the critical point. He could bring himself to flog a woman who wanted it. But he preferred that to be part of an intimate scene, and the memory of Cheri made that difficult. He imagined Amanda’s breasts in his hands, cupped through her thin blouse, and his cock twitched. I’m sorry, Cheri.
He knew, deep down, that Cheri would want him to move on. Even the fact that they were monogamous had always been at his insistence, not Cheri’s. She had never wanted to make any demands of him except that he give her regular instruction. At times, that had been burden enough, but on the whole, it had been wonderful. Cheri would definitely want him to move on, but for that final step, he felt that he was the one who needed instruction. Yet Cheri wasn’t going to be able to give it to him from heaven.
The slap of the flogger against h
is back was enough to jolt him back into the now. It was followed swiftly by another. The floggers were lightweight, probably made from deerskin, and Amanda kept up a steady beat. The leather heated his back, the breeze of the floggers as they moved through the air providing a little cooling. He could take that all day if need be. Longer than Amanda’s arms could keep it up. Her technique virtually required her to keep the floggers in constant motion. Form and function both, perfectly combined. He bet that there were a few dozen subs who’d come for the evening who would love to have Amanda work on their back.
How ironic that the first semi-scene I’ve been in since Cheri has me on the receiving end.
Amanda was talking behind him, mostly for the benefit of those watching. “You can swing them in an X,” she said, “Or a figure eight. Or this crossing pattern, which is a mix of both. The hard part is finding a pattern that makes sure that the floggers aren’t getting all tangled up in each other and aren’t hitting your own back. Feels good, mind you—” Jeremy thought he could hear a grin in her voice. “But it doesn’t make you look like a smooth top.”
She set down the floggers and put her hand on his back. Her hand was soft and cool. “Any questions?” she asked. After a moment’s silence, she said, “My card’s on the table, feel free to take one in case you want to send me questions later.” She turned to Jeremy and stroked his back gently. It was as if she was reading the lines of his muscles by Braille. “You were wonderful,” she told him. “Thank you.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I didn’t do anything.”
She laughed. “Which was perfect. Thank you for volunteering.” She picked up his shirt and handed it to him. “You look better without it.”
And you’d look better without yours. He moved off from the cross. People were moving away, but a new audience was arriving. He buttoned his shirt, trying to clear his head, aware of Amanda’s gaze on him. He’d never been shy around women.
And now the first kinky woman I’ve spent a few seconds with since—since Cheri—is causing my heart to beat faster. “Thanks for the demo,” he said. He pocketed one of the cards without looking at it, then turned away and walked out of the room.
Brat and Master Page 2