Page 35 of Take Me, Sir

I heard a hint of vulnerability in his voice, so I half-turned so that I could see his face. “I've liked the parts I've seen so far.”

He didn't look completely convinced as he lifted his chin toward the stage. “Then see more.”

For a moment, I wasn't sure what he wanted me to see, but then I saw three people walking up onto the platform, two women and a man. One woman was blonde, the other had darker hair, but they both had the same slender build, made all the more obvious by their outfits. Matching red bras and panties, and heels so high that I wondered how they could walk.

The man wore a pair of leather pants and a sheer sort of shirt that showed the tattoos he had underneath. I saw the glint of something I thought might be a piercing, but I was too far away to tell for certain.

As I watched, chains descended from the ceiling to where the two women stood at center stage. They stayed still, heads bowed, as he fastened leather restraints around their wrists. The chains retracted then until the women's arms were extended out and up.

“Legs apart.” The man's voice was harsh, and the women immediately obeyed without raising their heads. “Don't come until I give you permission.”

“Yes, Master,” they said in unison.

“Don't make a sound. Don't move.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Are they both his...Subs?” I asked Dean.

“They are,” he answered. “I've seen them perform before. The blonde is a total Submissive, but the brunette is a switch.”

“A switch?”

“She can be both dominant and submissive,” he explained. “And in that relationship, she dominates the blonde, but only when their Master tells her to.”

I made a sound of acknowledgment, filing away the information for future reference. On stage, the man was standing between the two women, his hands between their spread legs. I didn't need to be close to them to know what his fingers were doing, even if the women's faces were impassive, as if they didn't really feel his touch.

“How can they stay so still?” I asked, pressing my thighs together. Arousal thrummed there, and I was only watching. I didn't understand how they could not feel anything.

“Training.” Dean's fingers slid across my stomach, then up to caress the undersides of my breasts. “Lots and lots of training.”

“So they don't feel it?”

“I'm sure they feel it,” he said. “But they've trained their bodies to obey their Master above what they feel.”

I couldn't imagine having Dean's fingers inside me, stroking the most intimate parts of me, and not making a sound, not moving. “How?”

Dean's lips brushed my ear. “Reward and punishment.”

Something low inside me clenched tight, and I took a moment to think of how those three words shouldn't have had that particular effect. My voice shook slightly. “How does that work, exactly?”

He kissed the side of my neck. “Simply put, when a Dom gives his Sub a command and he or she obeys, there's a reward. When they refuse or are unable, then there's a punishment.”

Again, that primal, heated twisting.

“What are the rewards?”

His fingers brushed over my nipples. “It can vary from relationship to relationship, but I've always been partial to pleasure for rewards and denial for punishment.” He nipped at my throat. “Though pain can sometimes work wonders too.”

The words punishment and pain should've sent me running.

But they didn't.

What they did was make me wonder about all those wonderful words.

Punishment.

Pain.

Pleasure.

I didn't care about what Dalton thought. Being here hadn't changed anything for me. If anything, it'd solidified my decision.

I wanted this.

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