“Honey, stop thinking about the past. You're here to have fun.” Angela patted Rebecca's arm. “Remember, if it's not working for you or if you feel off, just say no. I'll be nearby.”
Have fun. Learn something.
“Girl, you more than paid me. That picture you drew of Meggie kneeling in submission is the loveliest thing I've ever seen.” Angela gave her a wicked grin. “Besides, I enjoy watching newbies in a club. Now go find yourself a Dom.”
Rebecca sucked in a bracing breath and headed through the crowd, trying not to openly gawk at…everything. Well-lit stages on the right and left wall had crowds around them; one had two men demonstrating how to tie a naked woman in a ka-zillion ropes and suspend her from the ceiling. The stage on the right had an elderly man wielding a whip. The cracking sound and the red welts appearing on the young man bound to a post made Rebecca's stomach twist uneasily.
Angela said to go downstairs to meet people and actually use the equipment. Rebecca pressed a hand to her stomach to still the nervous feeling and blinked at the tight feel of the latex. After glancing over her shoulder to make sure she still had her escort, she walked down the stairs and paused on the bottom step.
Strange equipment was set up everywhere: X-shaped frames, cross-shaped frames, sawhorselike tables. Manacles dangled from a low beam. Long, waist-high, leather-covered tables had people tied down on them. A Dom dripped wax on the bare breasts of his sub. Rebecca flinched. The music from upstairs could barely be heard over the sounds of whips and other things striking flesh and the groans, moans, and screams.
Well, she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do, right? She glanced around, trying to look available. “
As she walked through the room, men came up to her. Doms. She'd talk with them for a bit, but when they asked if she wanted to play, she turned them down. A woman hit on her, then another man. After wandering back to the manacle area, she stopped to watch. What would it be like to be the one whose arms were restrained like that? The chained woman faced the wall, and another woman in a dark red leather catsuit wielded a long stick across her back and rump, starting lightly, but now Rebecca could see the skin turning red. Her stomach quailed until she realized the sub's throaty moans were obviously not from pain.
A man in his forties in a black suit stopped beside Rebecca, glanced at the women, then looked down at Rebecca. “Is this your first time here?”
“Um. Yes. I don't know very much about this.” When she met his eyes, she got that sinking feeling almost like Logan gave her, only without the God-I-want-you jolt. “Um.”
He smiled and stepped slightly closer, invading her personal space. Deliberately. Dark brown eyes watched her, reminding her so much of Logan that her breath hitched.
When he frowned, she pushed Logan out of her mind. This Dom stood almost six feet with level, broad shoulders. Silver flecked his neatly trimmed black hair. His face appeared finely chiseled, almost aristocratic in comparison with Logan's rougher features. But he had the very same overwhelming sense of authority.
“Are you here with someone?” His voice was deep and smooth.
She shook her head.
“You look like you'd like to play.” He made the statement and waited for her response.
“Um. Yes. A bit.”
And he watched her the same way Logan had.
He held out his hand. “My name is Simon. I'm not new in the community if you'd like to ask around first. You need to be comfortable with whomever you choose. And start slow.”
“I'm Rebecca.” She shook his hand and then caught sight of Angela standing a few feet back, watching. The woman smiled and nodded approval.
Simon turned and caught the exchange. “Angela,” he said. As the Domme walked over, Simon tilted his head, glancing between them. “Yours?”
“No. She's a friend who I'm babysitting as she tiptoes into the scene.” She glanced at Rebecca. “He's experienced, highly regarded, and”-she grinned-“strict but fair.”
Simon's lips curved. “Quite a reference.”
Rebecca sucked in a breath. Decision time. He was handsome and definitely a Dom, but she didn't feel any sexual attraction at all. Still, she had to start somewhere. “I think I'd like to try.”
Simon held out a hand almost as big as Logan's. She put her hand in his, feeling safe and scared at the same time, but still nothing sexual. That seemed strange.
To her surprise, he didn't take her toward the equipment but over to a nearby couch. He sat beside her, keeping her hand in his. “Have you done anything related to BDSM before?”
She flushed.
“I'll take that as a yes.” He massaged her hand gently. “Tied up?”
She nodded and kept nodding as he ran through a list: breast clamps, spanking, and toys.
“Anal sex?”
The memory of the thing, the plug, that Logan had put into her made her shudder. “No. Not really.”
He chuckled. “I see. Flogging, whipping?”
She edged away from him.
“It's not something I'd do with a new sub anyway. Not the first time.” He squeezed her bare shoulder, his grip reassuring rather than sexual. “Submission? Orders? Positions?”
“Some.”
“Excellent.” He pointed to the floor. “Show me what you learned.”
She slid off the couch onto her knees, putting her hands behind her back, too embarrassed to open her legs, even though she'd worn panties.
He lifted an eyebrow. “He must have been new to the scene to have taught you so poorly.”
Her face flared with heat, but the idea of him thinking badly of Logan had her spreading her legs open as he'd taught. “I'm sorry, Sir,” she whispered.
“Ah. Modesty rather than inadequate instruction.” He studied her for a minute. Longer. She kept her eyes on her knees. “Look at me, Rebecca.”
She looked up at him. He leaned forward and ran a finger over the top of her bustier, touching her, reminding her of-
He must have seen the flinch she couldn't conceal. His hand dropped. “Tell me about the Dom who taught you. How long were you with him?”
“Four days.”
“Must have been a very intense four days.” He leaned back on the couch, his eyes focused on her face. “When you were learning all this, were you also having sex?”
For a second, she wanted Logan so badly, she could have cried. “Yes,” she whispered.
Simon's smile was faint. “You obviously care about him, Rebecca. Why are you here?”
She looked down. How could she tell a perfect stranger about her doubts? A hand under her chin tilted her head up. He caught her gaze with his. “Answer me.”
“I wasn't sure if what I felt was because of the…the submission stuff or because of him. I thought I should know that.”
He released her. “Amazing insight, pet. And what have you discovered?”
“I think it's him.” The answer felt right and yet opened up all sorts of other problems.
“I think you're right. But you are submissive without a doubt, Rebecca. If it doesn't work out with your man, keep that in mind when you look for another.” Simon leaned back, rested his arms on the back of the couch, and studied her. Sexual or not, she still felt vulnerable under his dark gaze. “BDSM doesn't have to be about sex, you know. Would you like to try some of the equipment without worrying about that?”
“Really?” She glanced at the manacles, realizing the women had left.
He gave a deep laugh and smoothly rose to his feet. “Come along, little one. I'll give you your next lesson.” Grasping her arms, he set her on her feet. “What is your safe word?”
A shiver ran through her as he led her forward, her wrist in his grasp. Not her hand. She wasn't an equal. “Red,
