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from him.
    Gerald turned to her. “We’ll take it easy, at first, and try the St. Andrew’s Cross and some light flogging. We’ll see if you’re really cut out to be a submissive.”
    Things were moving out of her control. But that was kind of what she wanted, wasn’t it? Light flogging didn’t sound too bad. Emphasis hopefully on the word “light.” Those floggers looked sexy as hell, but Angela wasn’t at all sure that she’d like the way they felt. Still, through a couple layers of clothing, presumably the lighter ones wouldn’t sting too much. It sure would have been nice if he asked if she was interested, though. She bit back the thought. She was here to learn about BDSM and to learn about herself, and the best way to do that was to go with the flow, as long as the current didn’t threaten to drown her. “Yes, Sir,” she said.
    “You wait here. I’ll go put us in the queue. When I get back, I expect to find you kneeling properly.” He walked off, heading toward the X-frame near the door. Apparently “St. Andrew’s cross” was another name for them.
    “How do I kneel ‘properly’?” Angela asked Genna frantically.
    Genna smiled. “That’s a bit over the top, asking you to kneel when you barely know him. And ‘properly’ varies from master to master. Kneel with your knees parted, your back straight. Put your hands either behind your back, or open, palms up, on your knees, and either look up at him, or avert your gaze. My guess is that Gerald’s the avert–your-gaze type.”
    Angela knelt as directed, trying her palms face up, as it made her feel a little less vulnerable. The skirt wasn’t decent with her knees spread out like that, but she was close enough to the ground she suspected no one could quite see her panties if they weren’t practically on the floor themselves. “I think my type would want me to look up at them.”
    Genna grinned. “I suspect you’re right,” she said.
    “Then why…?” Why had she brought her to Gerald, and why had she manipulated the man into taking her on when he clearly didn’t want to?
    “Trust me, love. I’m going to help you get the right man. Some men, the way to their heart is through their stomach; some men it’s through their cock. But yours requires a little more convincing. The thing to remember is, the moment Gerald violates your limits, yell the club safe word loud and clear. You remember what it is?”
    Angela nodded. “Albatross.”
    “Good.”
    “Hopefully I won’t have to use it.”
    Genna gave her a cryptic look. “Don’t worry. You’ll be very, very safe.” She nodded over to where Gerald was walking back. “I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll make sure the dungeon monitors know you’re new, and they’ll be watching out for you.”
    For a moment, she was alone in the big crowded room.
    “Keep your head down, slave,” said Gerald, when she looked up at him. When had she become a slave? She hated that word, but she did as directed. At least he couldn’t see her grit her teeth that way. “I see she told you to put your hands on your knees. I guess that’s all right.”
    “Now what, Sir?”
    “Now we wait. Genna said you had some pretty hard limits. What are they?”
    “No sex. My clothes stay on.” She took a breath, trying to think. She really should have thought about this more before she left the house. “No bruises, no blood.”
    Gerald shrugged. “Some people bruise more easily than others. I can’t make guarantees, but I’ll try my best. You married?”
    “Would I be here if I was?”
    Gerald laughed. “Lots of married people come here. Some of their spouses know it, and no sex is usually part of the condition for letting them come here and satisfy their taste for pain. Others are getting a little kinky sex on the side, and ‘no marks’ is usually their limit. They don’t want to be caught, after all.”
    “Are you married?” Angela half-hoped he was, because that would give her an out. No way was