Page 2 of Masters of Play

I worked hard not to tap my colorful Converse against the floor as I watched the redheaded girl in front of me finish up her turn. The blond-haired rigger worked the rope with dexterous fingers. Long, nimble fingers that I knew from experience were adept at making a bottom feel both secure and weightless as he tightened the ropes around the most intimate parts of their bodies.

The redhead wobbled as he unknotted the ropes that had made her fly. The blond grabbed hold of her right upper arm, but she was so off balance that she listed to the left. Luckily for her, a mirror image of the first blond man grabbed hold of her left forearm. She was sandwiched between the Carson twins, which was exactly where I was hoping to be by now.

"Take it easy, Ginger," said Owen Carson.

I could tell them apart easily. Mainly because Owen was the chatty one. Those twin dimples on either side of Owen's face were always on display because he was always grinning. Meanwhile, Alan kept his strong, square chin on display at all times.

"Make sure you hydrate," Alan scolded as he guided the teetering girl over to a couch. "Owen will see to your aftercare."

"What about you?" the redheaded Ginger pouted.

Amateur, I wanted to scoff. Alan Carson was only interested in binding and suspending women. He liked sweeping them off their feet. When their toes hit the ground again, he lost all interest.

"I've got you, Ginger," Owen said as he sat the girl down and began wrapping her up like a newborn.

Many bottoms and submissives enjoyed the secure feeling of a snug blanket after a scene. Especially if they weren't in a relationship with the Top or Dominant, who would cuddle with them later.

Alan Carson wasn't the cuddly type. Which was fine with me. My time working with other kinksters, helping them come to grips with their desires and erasing as much of the shame as possible—that was the scene that gave me satisfaction. It was when I was being bound and strung up by the Carsons that was my aftercare.

"Professor Prince, how goes the sexy research?" Owen asked after tucking the last fold of the blanket around Ginger.

Ginger glared at me as Owen straightened and held his hand out to me. Whatever. Her time was up.

Owen and Alan were Pro Doms—Dominants whose skills were for hire. The beauty of a Pro Dom was the ability to explore one's kink without the messy notions of a relationship or love or any kind of feelings. Owen didn't even have to exchange these pleasantries with me. It was just his personality.

His brother was the exact opposite. Alan simply wanted to get down to business. He watched our exchange from beneath a hooded gaze as he prepared the ropes for me.

"The research is done," I said to Owen as I watched Alan wrapping rope around his bare forearms.

"You're done?" Owen perked up. "Does that mean we can fuck you now?"

It was unethical for a researcher to dabble in her own research, if you know what I mean. But watching and recording all of this kink over the last few months while not fully participating had gotten me tied up in knots in the bad way. That's when I started employing the services of the Carson twins. But only for a little afterwork release.

I think that may have been what sparked the twin's extracurricular interests in me. The fact that I said I couldn't fuck them, let alone wanted to. I think it became a game with them. At least for Alan.

"I'm almost done," I said. "I just have to give my final presentation next week."

"So does this mean we can play doctor?" Owen waggled his eyebrows at me.

From her space on the couch, Ginger's scowl deepened. Her green eyes shot daggers at me. Luckily, there was nothing she could do physically, being wrapped up in a cocoon.

"Not yet," I said. "But I'll make another appointment with you next week when I technically am a doctor."

"In addition to your standing appointment?" said Owen. "Rewards mean extra."

"Yes," I said. "Put me down for two."

"You ready to fly, Kellie?" asked Alan, two sets of rope dangling from his hands.

"Yes, please," I said.

After all the hard work, it was time to celebrate. And by celebrate, I wanted to fly. I wanted to forget the last bits of data sets. I wanted to forget all the late nights in the library. I wanted to be free of all the snickers and jeers from my classmates.

No one took my research seriously. But then again, no one took the research of Masters and Johnson seriously. Now they had a television show done about them. No one took Graphenberg seriously, but today's woman thanked him every time someone hit their G-spot.

And I wasn't done.

I wanted to do more studies on the female orgasm. Why some women could achieve them so easily. Why they eluded others. I wanted to teach women that their orgasm didn't depend on men. It was theirs for the taking.

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