Read Liv's Journey for Free Online Page A

kind of like a combination of army boot camp and dude ranch, mixed up with some classes pertainin’ to each business' field. The BDSM Boot Camp is different; it’s not a corporate boot camp, it’s a group retreat for the spankin’-oriented BDSM crowd. It’s still structured a bit like a boot camp, but the physical part has…different challenges."
    "It's a lot of fun," Laura chimed in. "Rosaria, Mark and I go every year."
    The three were pretty chummy. Liv wondered about their relationship. Or maybe one of the women was along as a potential date for Trey. She pondered that and sipped at her margarita while the friends talked small talk. The waitress came and took their food orders, and Liv had to make a quick decision between a plate full of tasty sounding meat samples and a salad. She was among unfamiliar people. Did she dare show her weakness for food? What if one of the women was there to seduce Trey? Wouldn't she make a snide remark over the amount of fat on the meat platter?
    Salad seemed the safer choice. And, once again, it was keenly disappointing to miss an opportunity to have what she liked. She was also frustrated with herself for not embracing her new body. She sighed, and Trey looked over at her, his brows rising in question.
    "Hard decision," she said. "So many yummy choices."
    That seemed to satisfy him.
    The other women ordered meat dishes with piles of tortillas and cheese. It was depressing.
    They chatted about recent movies and TV shows for a while, and then began what appeared to be a casual planning session for the BDSM Boot Camp.
    Much of it sounded like pretty normal stuff: horseback riding, daily run through the trees, picnicking, cooking classes. But then they got into the kinky stuff and Liv found she had less to contribute and more to listen to.
    "So, are we still working with two x-frames, Trey? Last year, two wasn't enough. Can we get three?"
    "I only have two," Trey answered. "And no time to build another one. Can we borrow one from someone?"
    "I'll check with Dennis. He has a lot of equipment."
    Trey ate a mouthful of fajitas before his next comment. "Good. I dug out all of the comfort stuff this year–blankets, the hot-cocoa cauldron, massage oils, all that. Subs will be cared for better than ever. Looks like we'll have a record turnout."
    "You can't always go by RSPV's," Rosaria pointed out. "People chicken out at the last minute."
    "Yeah, we took that into account when we made the tally."
    Liv hesitated, but asked, "You said subs will be cared for. Aren't they supposed to be subservient and treated…well…harshly?"
    Trey smiled kindly, but Mark spoke up. "Subs are people too, Liv. They get into their space and follow orders, and the way they're treated depends on each of them. There are a few—very few—who get off on being abused, but that’s not what our group's into, and we discourage such people from attending, or returning if they do. In our circle, subs are generally rewarded for being obedient and well-behaved."
    Trey explained further. "It’s a bit like, well, training horses: some people use whips and punishments, but most of us are into affection training."
    "What are their rewards?"
    "Orgasms," Laura supplied. "And cuddles, and delicious scenes involving things we like or want to try."
    "Wow."
    "That's the second time you've said that, Liv," Trey said with a chuckle. "Are you sure you're not shocked?"
    She frowned at him. "Are you trying to shock me?"
    "I might be."
    "Well, knock it off soldier-boy."
    Rosaria giggled behind her hand and Mark snorted.
    "Oh, boy," said Laura softly.
    Trey's smile slipped, but returned quickly enough—perhaps a little cooler than before. "That was pretty disrespectful, Liv."
    "Well, you keep treating me like I'm some kind of inexperienced yahoo."
    "A yahoo, hm?"
    "Yeah, and it's annoying. You ought to think before you talk."
    There was complete silence at the table. No silverware clattered, no breaths were breathed. All six of his friends'