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also remembers that during intense sessions a submissive can forget the agreed upon safe word.”
    Is this what he wanted? Confusion and uncertainty were both messing with his mind. What had Monty got him into? He hadn’t expected anything like this. He shifted nervously in his chair, as the second course of baked Henna-henna bird with glazed red potatoes and asparagus dipped in red wine was set in front of him. Seth picked up his fork and stabbed at the poultry, suddenly losing his appetite.
    “Your slave has the ability to tune out, or as we call it ‘endorphin-out’, does she not?”
    The man was amazingly observant—too observant. “Yes, she can.”
    Tor’s scrutiny was unsettling, as if he could peer into Seth’s mind, read his thoughts. There were things in his head even Seth didn’t want to know, much less a stranger. Mixed emotions battled against one another. Self-doubt hung in dark corners, awaiting the right time to spring out and overtake him. The contest between he and Chastity was the first game in his life where he wondered whether he would emerge the victor.
    “Her technique is smooth, she’s quite skilled. Yet if she goes too deeply within herself, to what is known as ‘subspace’, she won’t be able to object or to express her limits. You could hurt her, inadvertently.”
    26
    The Game
    Appalled at where this talk was leading, Seth pushed back his plate and stated emphatically, “I would never hurt her.” Not physically. But emotionally? Wasn’t that what this was all about? This was revenge, and if she didn’t hurt, if she didn’t feel loss, then all was for nothing.
    Tor studied him a little longer then he laughed. “It’s a thin and dangerous line you walk. Love. Hate.”
    “I don’t love her,” Seth responded a little too quickly. The knowing look in Tor’s eyes said he wasn’t buying it. “Ecstasy Island doesn’t condone cruelty or abuse. Whatever you do together must be consensual. If you are asked to stop, you must.” He laughed again, only this time it was laced with skepticism.
    “But after talking to Monty, if Miss Ambrose were a man, I’d say you had her by the balls. The woman nearly signed away all her rights. An act of a desperate person…or a stupid one.”
    Stupid? No, that was one word that didn’t describe Chastity Ambrose. Desperate?
    Before he could ponder further, Tor said, “As a submissive begins to reach her limits she will become intense. You need to be aware of her body, her breathing.”
    There was no problem with being aware of her body. Long, long legs, rounded hips, a small waist and succulent breasts, what more could a man ask for?
    “Well, from Chastity’s reaction at the station, she’s already reached a nine out of ten on the tension scale.” Seth picked up his glass and downed his beer. The antiquated drink was still a favorite even in the twenty-second century. The foamy, bitter ale endearingly called a “brewskie” quenched a thirst like no other drink could.
    “…signs to look for—her breathing will become tighter, more labored, her muscles will grow rigid. Stop immediately. Remember that it may take time for her to ‘swim back up’ or return from where she’s gone. Even more time if she has fine-tuned the art of escape.”
    A slit in the table opened and another beer appeared in front of Seth. He picked it up, smelling the mixture of malted barley, yeast and hops. “This doesn’t sound safe.”
    “It can be either very dangerous or as innocent as playful experimentation. I want to invite you to attend some of the bondage demonstrations at the club. There’s even a Master-slave dinner and a slave auction. Do you think your slave would be agreeable to be auctioned?” Tor’s eyes shifted nervously. A finger began to trace the rim of his glass. He seemed restless, uneasy.
    “Oh, Chastity would be agreeable. Anything to get away from me.” The question was more if Seth could allow it. Could he watch another man take his