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my sub trainee. You can sit nearby and watch and, while you do, note if there’s anything you need to ask me later. I realize you’re not clueless, but every club is different.”
    “Sounds good.”
    Before he could turn and leave the office, Steve called out, “Wait!”
    “Yeah?”
    “Close the door.” Vic pushed it shut and sat back down. “How do you know anything about any of this? I would’ve never pegged you as one to be in the lifestyle.”
    How to explain it? Vic sat for a minute, trying to think of a way to tell Steve where he’d been and what he’d done in his younger years, but he couldn’t. “Let’s just say that I was extremely experienced in all things sexual at a very early age.”
    “Hmmm. Guess you’re not going to expound on that, huh?” Steve’s green eyes bored into Vic’s deep brown ones.
    “Nope.” As far as Vic was concerned, that was ancient history and no one needed to know about it. “Let’s just say I don’t mind training subs, and I’m not above using them, but I’m never unkind. I can get rough, and if they’re coming for a hand-holding or hugs and kisses, they’ve come to the wrong guy. I reserve that for personal relationships. But I will tell you this; I’m no sadist, and I don’t need any of this for sexual fulfillment. To me, it’s just something erotic that I enjoy. When I was in the lifestyle before, I used lots of restraints and bondage methods, and I will discipline, won’t hesitate, if needed. If a sub tells me she needs an application of pain, I’ll give her what she needs and no more – that’s my responsibility – and I’d be horrified if a sub safeworded and I didn’t hear her. But I don’t get off on causing anyone pain, ever. I’ve always felt that my most important duty is to satisfy the sub I’m with. The play, the scene, is for her , not me.”
    “Understood. Fortunately for some of our patrons, we’ve already got one sadist here.” Steve smiled as the words left his lips, and Vic couldn’t help but feel sorry for any sub he worked with.
    Leading the way back out into the main commons area, Steve bypassed the sofas and chairs and pulled a bar stool over to the wall near one of the stages. Vic perched on it and leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. As imposing as he appeared, anyone who didn’t know him would’ve assumed he was a bodyguard. There were some other members on other stages, but Vic was paying attention to Steve.
    Just as he had instructed, the sub from the office was sitting in a chair at the edge of the stage. Vic saw Steve lean down and whisper something to her, and she sat up straight. Steve righted himself, walked to the center of the stage, then looked at the woman and said, “Present yourself to me. At my feet. Quickly.”
    The woman rose and went straight to Steve, dropped to her knees, and assumed the same position Vic had witnessed in the office, all with utter grace. And true to form, Steve didn’t bother to tell her that he was pleased with her. Steve put his hand on her head and stroked it. “What is your safeword?”
    “Red,” the woman answered.
    “Red what?” Steve asked. Vic smiled.
    “Red, sir.” The corners of her lips dipped down at the reminder. “I’m sorry, sir.”
    Steve smiled. “That’ll be ten strikes with the paddle on top of the thirty you were already promised.”
    The woman stared at the floor. “Thank you, sir. I’ll try to do better, sir.”
    “See that you do.” He took a handful of her hair, tipped her head back so he could look down into her face, and said, “Go to the kneeler. Immediately.” As soon as he turned loose of her hair, she rose and rushed to the kneeler, leaning over the front of it with her hands hanging down to the sides. Steve took the cuffs already attached to the front corners of the kneeler and cuffed her wrists, then cuffed her ankles to rings on the other two corners. Vic was a little shocked when Steve turned the kneeler with the