Page 9 of Masters of Play

With specter in hand, the Queen dubbed one lucky subject worthy. The man knelt down as the Queen's two muscular guards held her aloft. The prostrate man now had direct access to the Queen's family jewels where he could worship at her leisure.

The Queen's head lolled back. Her white pompadour of a wig went slightly askew as she trembled from the pleasure of being worshiped. I was momentarily distracted watching the scene play out.

I wasn't the only one. Maree and Josie and I all sipped at our glasses as we watched the boss bitch get her due.

"Now that's what I call a retirement plan," said Maree.

The Queen was easily over fifty. No amount of makeup could hide the wrinkles surrounding her gray eyes. Even with the mask she wore, she couldn't hide those crow's feet. And what woman would care if she could still command that kind of devotion at any age?

"I wonder if she gets dental with that," said Josie.

"That certainly looks like an oral exam to me," I said.

The three of us threw our heads back in a fit of giggles. This was my idea of a retirement plan. Girls' night out with my two best friends in the world. Whether it be at a sex club, or cocktails on the beach, or even mimosas at the retirement home. All I needed was my friends by my side.

"Oh, Master Cornelius is here," said Josie, downing her drink and hopping off the bar stool. "Duke made him a new flogger. Well, he made it for me, but he gave it to Master Cornelius to use on me. He promised the material he used would give a real good sting."

And with that, Josie weaved her way through the crowd to greet her three boyfriends. Master Cornelius, the artist who looked more like a pirate than a painter, scooped her up and bent her backwards for a kiss. When he righted her, Josie's old Dom Duke and former stalker pressed a kiss to her forward, while also wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. Josie leaned into Duke as she turned her head to take yet another kiss from her business partner, Frank Gunn.

She was surrounded by a sea of bliss. And I was happy for her. Though I had to amend my fantasy to include those three guys and—

"Oops, I'm gonna be late for my own date," said Maree, putting down a few bills to cover all our drinks. "If I miss you before you leave, call me in the morning to tell me everything."

Maree bussed a kiss to my cheek before hurrying off in the other direction. A door opened just down the hall, and Maree was yanked inside. I couldn't tell which of her three lovers tugged her inside, but I knew all three of them were there. Paul Brooks, the billionaire businessman who was also Maree's boss. Kaiden Louis, Paul's silent business partner and former playboy, who now performed and played only with Maree. And the quietly intense toy maker Sam Kringle who engineered sex toys that he would test on Maree before putting them on the market for other women to enjoy.

I sat alone on the barstool, running my finger around the half empty shot glass. I'd never been interested in having a long-term monogamous relationship myself. I'd known from an early age that I wanted to be married to my work. I doubted any man would stand to play second to his wife's work as a sex therapist.

Turning to the sound of pleasure, I saw the Carson twins at work. They were binding a petite girl. That same redheaded Ginger that they'd played with last time. Her eyes were closed in the ecstasy that came with feeling the fibers tighten on flesh. When they opened, they locked first on Alan.

Alan gave her an assessing glance. Cool and professional, as always. He was interested in her pleasure, but only at the touch of the rope. He made sure to avoid too much flesh-to-flesh direct contact. That was his way of not letting his bottoms become attached.

I could've told him the tactic wasn't foolproof. The chemicals that flooded the body during sexual pleasure were hard to distinguish from emotional love. It was far too easy to confuse them, whether on a drunken one-night stand or soberly negotiated play.

Ginger was in a world of her own as she reached for Alan. The man deftly caught her hands and bound them tight, easily avoiding her touch. Ginger's features were at first a pout, but then her eyes skated past me and turned to alarm. The expression on her face looked as though she'd seen the devil himself walk into the club.

Because the devil had arrived.

Professor Sinead was standing just behind me. That shrewd gaze was not on the naked, writhing bodies on the floor. They were not on the Queen, who was frantically motioning her throne to be set down. They were not on Ginger, who was now struggling in her ropes. He was staring straight at me.

"Ms. Prince."

"Professor Sin."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Sinead," I corrected. "Professor Sinead, you're here."

"As I said I would be." He reached up to straighten his tie. He didn't tug to loosen it. He looked entirely at ease in this den of iniquity.

A tingle went up my spine as I wondered if I'd been right all along. Was Professor Sinead so at ease here because he was a Dom?

"Shall we begin, Ms. Prince?"

Chapter Six

"Of course I begin my dissertation with a history of the practices of kink." My steps were slow as I led Professor Sinead around the club. I'd tried to speed up our progress, thinking the man would indeed be clutching his pearls, or rather his silk tie, at the displays on the floor. But nope.

Professor Sinead was completely unfazed by the Fuck You, Sir couple. The bruises on the woman's arm were Fuji apple red as we walked by. The man's gaze down upon her was hungry, while her gaze up at him was completely adoring as they displayed their love language for all the world to see.

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