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tried to sit tall while they introduced themselves. Yes, yes, the middle guy has been in the scene for twenty years, he has two lifestyle subs under him. Yes, the woman at the end has been in the scene for thirty years, and she is up to her third slave. The two leather men have been together for five years, and they are master and slave. I read it all in the program. Let’s get to the point. How did they meet? How did they know? What did they do—and how can I find someone to do that with me?
    Well, isn’t that the point of all these things? I mean, I had fun watching the fire demonstrations earlier, but really, I’m here to hook up. If not for tonight, then maybe...maybe much longer.
    As they took turns explaining how real their relationships were to them, I was dismayed to find my mind wandering. Yes, it’s sweet that you love each other so much, I said mentally, but what does it say in your contracts? Do you really do anything you want with your lover? What does it feel like? And why weren’t there more bottoms on the damn panel?
    Instead, I began to hear how compromise made things work for them all. The same stuff I’d heard before, last year as a matter of fact. This one had a trick for making sure that his slave knew that certain things were his right to do—but that he didn’t have to exercise that right. Another one sat down with his slave once every quarter, to discuss things like equals, just to make sure things were going great. Not that she couldn’t ask to do that at any time, he added quickly. It was just to make sure that they both had a safety net. That started a discussion on the burdens of being the top in a full-time relationship. Nods of agreement all around.
    I stifled a yawn, and wondered when the dungeons were going to open that night, and whether there was a women’s party.
    As my mind wandered, so did my eyes. And that’s when I saw her slip into the room, followed by this tall, blond-haired man who looked like he would be more at home posing for an advertisement for milk.
    But she was the one who grabbed me. Five-foot-four or -five was my guess, with spiky, ink-black hair that looked like it ran down between her shoulder blades. Her high cheekbones and narrow, dark eyes spoke of an Asian background, but she wasn’t obviously Chinese or Japanese—maybe Filipina? She was wearing faded jeans and tight chaps with a silky leather uniform shirt, aviator glasses hanging from a correct loop in the front. There wasn’t a ring of keys dangling left, but what looked like a silver snake of a collar, with a lock hanging tantalizingly low on her thigh.
    I instantly saw myself crawling to her and rubbing my face against that thigh, pushing that loop of silver, begging for it to embrace my throat.
    I turned back to the seminar and pressed my lips closed. Swallowing hard, I then had to take a deep breath, because a wave of dizziness had washed over me.
    You got it bad, baby , I thought to myself. Calm down! Jeeze, you’d think you weren’t getting laid often enough!
    But I didn’t dare look back at her. I stared at the presenters, waiting for wisdom, or at least a clue.
    “You have to recognize that your sub is a human being, with feelings and needs just like you have,” one of the guys was saying. “Sometimes, she’s going to need some time off, maybe to just chill out and take inventory. It’s your responsibility to provide her with that time.”
    “And what if you should require that person’s services during that time?” came a voice from the back of the room. I knew who it was. This time, I was not the only person who turned to look at her.
    She was still standing, and the blond guy was behind her and to one side, looking kind of casual, but attentive. And very cheerful. She, on the other hand was dead serious.
    “Well, what do you mean? Like to talk or something?”
    “No. I meant, what if, when you have dismissed your slave for this free time, you realize that there is a task which