Page 64 of What About Love

“What can I do? Name it, I’ll do it.”

“You’re a therapist. Tell me how to let it go once it’s over.”

“It might not be as simple as that especially if you aren’t into others watching you or if a stranger’s touch isn’t your thing. It could haunt you, Ang.”

“No, it’s not that. Rather, I didn’t think it was my thing until a stranger made me come. I must have an inner slut to orgasm from a flogging with one man and a lightning ball on a stick with another the very next night.”

“You’ve come to the right girl to ask about E-Stim. Eric is an expert. The things he does to my body with that wonderfully wicked lightning rod. I lose control and, please don’t tell him I said this, but I can’t say that it’d be any different if someone else was doing it. I mean, except for when he goes indirect.”

“What’s that?”

“He wears this device which electrifies his body, particularly his fingers and tongue.”

“His tongue?” Angie breathed. “Wow.”

“Girlfriend, you do not know the half of it. When he touches me, or better yet, licks me—everywhere—I don’t have words to describe it.” She fanned herself. “So don’t think badly about yourself. I guess that makes me an E-Stim, Master Eric slut.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Being called a slut in the BDSM world is accepted even complimentary. Pain slut, rope slut, anal slut, or whatever. They’ve accepted who they are and aren’t afraid to go after what they want.”

Angie processed that, wishing she had the guts to go after what she wanted. But a future with T was a dead end, and she wanted more than the glorying in kinky parts. She wanted what Val had with Eric, and the twins had with their dom husbands.

“There is something else.”

“You can tell me, Angie. I’ll keep your confidence.”

Despite having known her for only two days, she felt sure that Val would. Still, she hesitated.

“They have strict rules about sticking penises in vaginas, if that’s your concern.”

“What about the other?”

“Their either, although you won’t escape anal entirely.” She blew out her breath as she gave her a sympathetic look. “Doms get off on sticking things up a sub’s ass. You’ll find that out quickly if you continue beyond this mission. But on carousel, you’ll only need to be concerned with toys, fingers, and perhaps, a tongue, nothing more.”

She bit her lip, turning away, but she forgot where she was—a bathroom with mirrors. Val was watching her with concern when she glanced up.

“T will look out for you, honey. That’s why the dom is there. Not everyone knows this next fact, but I don’t think I’m bound to keep it secret since you’re not a club member. And if you were, I wouldn’t care, considering what you’re up against. There is a system among the doms using hand signals to direct the play.”

“Go on,” Angie insisted.

“It would diminish the psychological impact for the dom to give instructions constantly to the dominant on the stool. Instead, they use signals to direct the intensity. One for mild ranging up to five, which means the gloves are off.”

“What does a level five paddling mean?”

“You don’t sit for a week.”

“And with a plug?”

“You don’t sit for a week.”

She huffed a humorless laugh.

“T won’t let anyone hurt you, Angie. Tonight is a show for one twisted individual’s benefit. If T holds up more than one finger, I’d be shocked.” She tilted her head, observing her intently. “There’s something between you two, isn’t there?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You mean aside from Eric practically having to restrain him each time you’ve done a scene? And I don’t mean only that bastard last night. He should have been gone long ago.”

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