CHAPTER 18 #2
It had actually taken me a significant amount of time to talk myself into returning at all. I’d thought about blowing it off, but I knew I couldn’t move on with my life until I had some closure.
Part of me had expected Edge and Cav to avoid me. Despite the apologies, I didn’t know where I stood with either of them, but I knew I wasn’t willing to walk away.
I also didn’t know what I was willing to do.
At this point, I was confused about all of it, the Domination, the submission.
Roles, rules. They were all lacking, in my opinion, despite the fact that Edge was so insistent about having the structure.
Edge had once mentioned that he was looking for a full-time submissive, but I hadn’t seen any proof in the way of actions.
Truth was, the man was all over the place. Was that how this really worked?
“In here, cupcake.”
When Cav motioned toward a theme room, I stepped inside without argument.
There was a large desk at the front of the room, a chalkboard on the wall behind it, a whiteboard off to the right, along with a few decorations that mimicked a standard classroom setting.
Three smaller desks with chairs faced the teacher’s desk.
There was a line of lockers on one wall, all closed.
The other wall had four paneless, wooden window frames mounted to it, blinds hanging at different levels, while a mural of what appeared to be outside peeked through.
Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make this room look the part.
The lights overhead were bright, the floor tiled with big squares of linoleum. A clock on the wall ticked loudly, and there was a faint scent of chalk in the air.
“Have a seat, Miss Lautner.”
When Cav motioned toward the row of desks, I moved toward the first one, pulled out the chair, and took a seat. This was nothing like the classrooms I spent my time in at the university. It was more along the lines of a high school.
The thought made me smile. Whoever had done this likely had a penchant for porn.
“Before we begin…” a deep voice sounded from behind me.
I glanced over to see Edge stepping into the room, carrying a small bag.
“Please go to the locker room and change,” he said, passing over the bag.
Unsure what to say, I took the bag and headed for the locker room.
When I retrieved the items inside, I grinned.
Maybe Edge was the one who’d designed that room, because the schoolgirl outfit made it all come together.
A tiny red, white, and black plaid skirt was barely long enough to cover my ass.
The black T-shirt was a little less revealing, but only because it covered my breasts, but ended just below.
A pair of white thigh-highs was folded neatly on top of a pair of Mary Janes. In my size. Imagine that.
Since I hadn’t been provided with an outfit for tonight, I’d had to think on the fly.
Luckily, Everly and I were roughly the same size, with the exception of me being about six inches taller.
She’d had an extra pair of jean shorts, although they were more like a pair of denim panties than shorts.
Maeve had offered a black spaghetti-strap tank that had various cutouts in it.
A more appropriate option than the jeans and sweater I’d worn to the club, I’d borrowed their clothes.
The schoolgirl outfit was exactly as I’d seen depicted in porn.
The only thing missing was my hair in pigtails.
Wanting to maintain a little dignity, I avoided pulling it up, returning to the classroom as quickly as I could.
I walked in as Edge and Cav seemed to be having a heated discussion, their voices low, clipped.
“Have a seat, Miss Lautner,” Cav commanded, not looking toward me.
I returned to the desk I’d sat in a few minutes ago. Placing my hands on top of it, I folded them primly, keeping my knees together as I regarded the “teachers” at the front.
Cav and Edge seemed to come to some sort of nonverbal decision before Edge turned away from him. He paced across the room, back. He repeated the action a couple of times before facing me.
“Miss Lautner,” he prompted. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on what you’ve experienced so far in regard to BDSM.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand.”
He considered it for a moment, then elaborated. “Comparing what you’ve experienced here at the club and with us with what you’ve learned on your own, what’re your thoughts?”
Maintaining my prim posture, I pulled my thoughts together. “Based on the books I’ve read … well, to be honest, they depict a lifestyle vastly different than what I’ve seen so far.”
“How so?” he asked.
“In the novels, it’s always about structure, obedience, punishment.” I glanced between both men. “Aside from the way you’ve addressed the class during training, I have yet to experience anything of the sort.”
“So no structure, either?”
I glanced between them. “No.”
“What about outside of the training sessions?”
I realized he was getting into the role, driving toward something. Figuring I might as well play along, I twirled my hair around my finger, shifted as though I didn’t care to be there.
“I don’t know. I mean, yeah, I’ve received a few commands here and there. But those have been kinda … you know … like a tease.”
I could see the recognition on his face. He understood I’d taken my own stance, developed my own character.
“How so?”
“Well, for one, a little domination and submission would be cool. And sex.” I smiled shyly. “I mean, where’s the actual full-time domination? How does that even work? Aren’t you supposed to spank my ass when I’ve been bad?”
Yes. I was taunting him.
His eyes blazed, but I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or lust.
When he didn’t say anything, I continued, figuring now was my chance to open a line of communication between us. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, Professor? Teach me?”
“Is that what you want?”
I offered a half shrug, slipping over the line from reality to fantasy, trying to engage him. “Maybe. But I think I’ll need a teacher who knows how to handle me.”
“And the Doms you’ve interacted with don’t seem to know how to do that?”
I could tell he’d caught on to the fact that I’d identified my power play in this role.
“Ha.” I leaned forward, twirled my hair. “Not a chance.”
His body stiffened, and for a second, I thought I’d overstepped.
Before Edge could ask another question, Cav stepped forward. He was holding a crop in his hand, gently slapping the long stick against the palm of his hand as he walked across the room.
“Miss Lautner, do you think perhaps you have a preconceived notion of what a Dominant looks like?”
“Perhaps,” I admitted.
He stopped and faced me. “Describe him for me.”
“Hot. Sexy. Demanding,” I crooned. “Always in control. A stern look on his face. Never doubts himself, takes what he wants.”
“Ah.” Cav nodded, resumed his pacing, the slapping of the crop against his hand. “So, that’s his job, right? Being a Dom. Nothing else going on in his life.”
“I didn’t say that.” Although now that he said it, I could see where he was going with it. In the romance novels I’d read, it was generally about the act of Domination. A few authors were good about adding a real-life aspect, but some weren’t.
“But you did,” Edge said firmly.
“Do you think a Dominant makes his own coffee?” Cav asked.
My tone was flippant when I said, “Why would he?”
“If he doesn’t, who makes it for him?”
“His submissive.”
“You mean servant, right?”
“No.”
“That’s what you said,” Cav countered.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Do you think a Dominant spends all his time touring his dungeon?” Edge questioned. “Waiting for his submissive to kneel, bend over, put her mouth on his dick?”
Although crude, the image my brain came up with had a spark igniting in my womb.
“That would be cool,” I teased. “But no.”
Cav turned to Edge. “Let’s find out where Ian and Isaac are.”
Edge nodded.
“And Chaos and Nash. We’ll let her see both ends of the spectrum.”
Edge walked to the door, slipped out of the room for a moment.
“We’re gonna let you observe,” Cav explained. “I think it’s important that you see what D/s looks like here.”
I was confused as to where this was headed, but curious all the same.
When Edge returned, he nodded his chin toward the door. Cav walked over to me, held out his hand. I slipped mine in it, grateful that he was touching me. I needed it after the weekend from hell. I followed Edge from the room, Cav beside me.
“Cambria,” Edge said to his assistant. “Ensure no one goes into that room. We’ll be back to use it in about an hour.”
“Yes, Master Edge.”
“This way,” Edge ordered me.
Being the dutiful submissive that I was, I followed my “teachers.”
Ready and willing for my first … real lesson?
ISAAC STOKES
Although I was more comfortable with rigid routines and few disruptions, I had to admit, I was intrigued when Edge requested our assistance this evening.
He’d prefaced by saying it was a spur-of-the-moment request, but he’d only had to outline his intention briefly for me and my twin to fall in line.
So, here we were, role-playing in what was likely the most boring theme room in the entire building. Since I had a living room at my own house, I wasn’t prone to setting up scenes in rooms such as this. However, Edge was trying to prove a point; therefore, I would endure.
The good news was, the room was elegant and comfortable. That was one thing I truly enjoyed about this club. Trent Ramsey spared no expense for comfort and decor.
As I sat in the butter-soft leather chair that someone thought would be a good addition to a living room, my leg crossed over my ankle, I skimmed the pages of a bondage equipment magazine. Clearly, they were lacking a decent selection of reading material here.