He pulled a dress out, soft and clinging, with a halter top that tied behind the neck. Anything that tied was fun. And the midthigh length was long enough to give her a sense of security. He grinned. That wouldn't last.

Perhaps he should keep her up here? But no. She'd come to the Shadowlands for an introduction to the lifestyle, so she really should see some of the regulars play. Considering how she'd reacted so far, it might be interesting.

She was so sweet.

He smiled, remembering her wide-eyed look when he told her to suck him, the tears on her cheeks after her spanking. Sweet. Innocent. Some men liked battling with sarcastic, angry subs. He wasn't one of them. Although he appreciated her courage and sparking temper, her modesty and nurturing nature drew him even more.

Her responses were so compelling, so honest, that he found himself wanting to wring more from her. But he needed to control himself to keep from pushing her too fast and far. She wouldn't stop with this visit. She might retreat after this, but her true nature was submissive. Now that she'd discovered the depth of passion inside her, vanilla sex would be even more tasteless to her.

She stepped out of the shower, rosy pink from the heat, her shoulders a confection above the blue towel. Yum. Crossing the room, he bent his head to nibble the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He tilted her head back and kissed the softness of her neck. “You taste wonderful and smell divine.”

“Thank you,” she said. She'd obviously recovered her composure in the shower, and her little shivers were gone completely.

Back in control, was she? Hmmm.

“I found something you'll like,” he said, stripping the towel from her. “It slides right over your head.”

* * *

Kari paused at the top of the stairs. The noise from the bar washed over her, bringing back a semblance of reality.

Why was she still here? She'd achieved her goal, to see what this BDSM stuff was all about. Now she really wanted to think about what had happened, what she'd done—what he'd done—for a while. A long while. She needed to be away from here to do that.

Time to go home. Her body was satisfied. Oh yes, more satisfied than ever in her life.

She turned to look at Master Dan and caught her breath when the soft material of the dress rubbed against her tender nipples.

No bra. No panties. She would have horrified the nuns. Then again, considering the other clothing in the armoire, she should be grateful this dress covered her fully. She'd seen a sheer lacy gown in there with the breasts and groin cut out. Good grief.

Yes, she appreciated this dress. This amount of indecency was enough for her. And Master Dan had refused to allow her underwear. She'd never gone—what did they call it?—commando before, and the cold air touching her nether regions made her feel very naked down there.

A little excited too, but she'd die before admitting that.

“I think I'll go home now,” she said as he moved closer and tucked a firm arm around her waist.

He tilted his head and studied her silently. Unexpectedly, his fingers stroked across her breasts, and she sucked in a breath at the tingling, inside and out.

“No, little sub, your body isn't ready to leave yet.” He held out his hand. “Take my hand.”

It was an order, and her fingers were in his grip before she thought about saying no.

His eyes softened, and when he smiled approval, she had to smile back. He was right, darn him. The part of her that knew better, that followed the rules, wanted to leave. All the rest of her wanted to stay, to have his arm around her waist, to do what he ordered her to do.

He led her downstairs to the bar. Boy, things had livened up. Men and women nodded at him, greeted him by name. Not all of them, though. Where there were couples, only one would speak. The dominant one, whether man or woman. A few people were at the bar; others occupied the couches, occasionally with a man or woman at their feet. An older woman in an evening gown sat at a table with a male sub kneeling beside her.

She noticed the roped-off areas near the walls had been brightly lit, standing out in the shadowy room. She frowned and tugged him in the direction of one. “What—” At his narrowed gaze, she gulped. “Sir?”

“Good catch.” And when he grinned, the flash of white in his tanned face was mesmerizing. “You have questions for me, Kari?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ask.”

But her questions disappeared right out of her mind when the roped-off area came into sight.

A naked woman squirmed on the St. Andrew's cross.

Kari's mouth dropped open. Good God. In the class, Master Raoul had put a clothed man up there; this was so very different. She took a step back, came up against Master Dan's hard frame.

His arm came around her, his hand just under her breast. He whispered in her ear, “Imagine yourself up there, unable to cover yourself, open to every man's gaze, available to every man's touch.”

She could…she could see herself, and the thought was terrifying. Erotic. Her pussy dampened, and he rumbled a laugh in her ear. “Yes, the thought excites you, doesn't it?”

No way, no way would she let herself be put in that position. She shivered as he set his hand almost on her pubis, pressing her back against his erection.

“I would like to see you there too. But not yet, my sweet.”

Hand against her back, he moved through the room. They passed a naked woman on the spiderweb, and then a man on the bondage table. A hooded Domme in a red latex corset stood beside him, wielding a switch.

When they reached the back wall, Kari stopped again. Her hands closed convulsively on Sir's hard biceps.

“What are they…she…?” But she could see. A woman lay on her stomach across the sawhorse, her wrists cuffed to the front legs. Her bent knees were strapped to the short cushions on each side, and she showed…everything, even more than the woman on the wall frame.

A man stood behind her, his jeans open, fully erect. He thrust into the woman with one stroke, and she screamed in pleasure.

Master Dan had to pull Kari away, she was so outraged. “Sir, he just took her right there. In front of everyone.”

He stopped, lifted her chin, and looked her right in the eyes. “Call me Master Dan or Master. I tire of being nameless. I want to hear my name and my title from your soft lips, little sub.”

“Bu—”

His eyes darkened, his mouth tight. He was really, really serious. Call him Master. To actually say that aloud felt like she'd be giving him too much power over her.

He waited, fingers unyielding, his other hand clamped on her shoulder. People swirled past around them. A woman somewhere broke into a cry of rapture, a man shouted in pain.

She had let him tie her and take her, punish her. Her body recognized his title, even if she didn't want to admit it. “Master.”

“Again.”

“Master Dan.” As she feared, saying the words relinquished something inside her, some control she'd still been holding on to.

“Sweetly done, little Kari.” He took her lips gently, lovingly even, his tongue rubbing against hers, slow and sensuous, until she was pressing up against him for more. His arms tightened around her. He was hard and ready, and she wanted him again. When she rubbed her breasts against his chest in invitation, he growled a laugh, and his hands reached under her skirt to massage her bottom.

The air on her butt hit her like a cold shower; she pushed away and opened her mouth to scold him. Shut her mouth.

“Nice save.” He held her against her chest, stroking her hair. “What should you see next?” He glanced over at the other side of the room and shook his head. “Mmmph, not that.”

She stood on tiptoe and still couldn't see.

“Perhaps next time.” He stroked her cheek and smiled down into her eyes. “There will be a next time, will there not?”

Oh my God. Come back? This was so much more intense than just that first lesson. And seeing the equipment in use… Just look at what might be done to her. “Uh—”

His eyebrows drew together. “The answer is, 'yes, Sir.'”

“Yes, Sir.” He wanted her to come back. More. Oh God.

“I think we both deserve a drink, don't you?” he murmured and pulled her to the bar.

“Daniel, how're things at the station?” A white-haired man, his hands knotty with arthritis, nodded at Sir. “Did I hear Bonner is retiring?”

“End of next year, he says.” Sir shook the old man's hand with obvious care. “Master Gerald, this is Kari, here for the newbie classes.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kari.” Gerald wrapped an arm around the tiny woman standing next to him. “This is my wife, Martha.”

Probably in her seventies, Martha wore a collar and cuffs that matched her bright pink bustier. Her long black skirt had pink studs along the waist and hem. She nodded at Kari, her aged eyes dancing with humor. “Master?”

“Go ahead,” the old man said.

“Welcome to the club, Kari. We enjoy seeing young faces.”

Was she allowed to talk? Kari glanced up at Sir, received a nod. “Thank you. I'm pleased to meet you.”

“Kari, you're still here!”

Kari turned to see Jessica break away from a group of people. “May I borrow your sub for a moment, Master Dan?” she asked, taking Kari's hand.

Sir frowned, pointed to a spot about ten feet away. “Go no farther than that.”

Jessica dragged her over to the spot. “How on earth did you end up with Master Dan again? I heard what happened Monday when you left.”