That was the part Shayla found difficult to reconcile. The contradiction of the bottom appreciating what the Top did for them.

Landry’s third scene of the night—Tilly. As Tony had predicted, the tender, loving hubby came out. Less impact play than with Valerie, but a lot more sensual sensation play.

And far more forced orgasms.

By the time he finished with her, Tilly was a limp puddle who could barely stand. He wrapped a blanket around her and carried her over to one of the couches where he sat with her while Cris cleaned up the bench and put away their implements.

Part of her envied the women—and a few men—being topped. She knew they had a trust in their Dominant that she didn’t have. She felt a sensual, visceral emotion she didn’t know how to label, and watching the scenes that ended in orgasm for the bottom wasn’t a hardship, for sure.

She didn’t know if she’d ever again have the trust they had in their Tops with anyone. Not after what she’d been through.

Sully approached her and Tony a little after midnight. “Did you want to sit down and talk?” Sully asked her.

“Oh, yes. Please. If you don’t mind.”

“No, we don’t mind. We’ll be leaving soon, and Mac’s feeling up to talking again.”

Shayla was glad Tony trailed along behind without her having to ask as Sully led her to the sofa area where Clarisse was curled up in Mac’s lap. Mac had gotten dressed again. Except for the leather collar buckled around his neck, and the cuffs around his wrists, he looked like any other guy. He wore jeans and a black, short-sleeved collared knit shirt.

She pulled her notebook and pen out of her purse. “I honestly don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted. “I’m pretty brain-fried at this point.”

Sully smiled. “I can give you our contact info,” he said. “We can always do a phone interview, or by e-mail.”

She handed over the notebook and pen. “That would be great, thanks.”

Clarisse smiled at her from Mac’s lap. “It’s a lot to take in at first.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Don’t worry,” Clarisse assured her. “The more you see, the more it makes sense. No two dynamics are the same.” She looked up at Mac. “It took me a while watching my guys doing their thing together before I could accept it wasn’t abusive.”

Mac smiled at her. “We wore you down.”

“Not exactly,” Sully said as he handed back the notebook. “Clarisse’s ex was…let’s just say he was a piece of work. After she came to live with us and watched our dynamic, and saw that Mac willingly stayed with me and that it wasn’t all about the Master and slave stuff, she was able to accept what she saw.”

Shayla looked at the information he’d written down to make sure she could read it. “Isn’t it a lot of work living with all those rules?”

The three of them burst out laughing. “There aren’t as many rules as you might think,” Mac said.

“I have too much to do,” Sully added, “to micromanage them. They know how I like things to be done, and they do them. Real life always takes priority. Anyone who thinks an absolutely strict twenty-four-seven dynamic is practical or doable has obviously never tried it, or they’re so rich they can spend their time doing nothing but BDSM.”

“I don’t mean to be insulting,” Shayla warned, directing her question at Clarisse, “but do you get sick of him bossing you around?”

She shrugged. “No, because it’s not like that. He’s my husband. They both are. He has to work. Mac and I run the boat and have stuff to do with that. We’re like any other relationship. We have boundaries and roles and responsibilities.” She sat up and looked like she was thinking how to phrase her next statement. “I love making them happy. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of any relationship? To make your partner happy? I mean, it is for me. As long as there is a mutual give-and-take,” she added.

“For me,” Clarisse continued, “making these two guys happy makes me happy. That’s what it boils down to. I love them. We have a great life together. I trust them. I know if something’s wrong I can speak up and tell them, and together we’ll take care of fixing it. And it’s the same for them.”

Shayla studied her notebook as she jotted down a few things. Her mind reeled. Back to the issue of trust.

How can I write about trust when I can’t even feel it myself? When I don’t know if I’ll ever feel it again? “That must be scary, though. Putting yourself out there like that.”

“It can be,” Clarisse agreed. “And that’s part of the fun. Part of the thrill. I know they’ll both push me to try things I might be scared to try, but I also know they’ll never cross my hard limits. It’s freeing to just let go and trust them and experience things.”

“I never thought I’d hear slavery described as freedom,” Shayla said.

“It’s one of the most freeing feelings in the world,” Mac responded.

Chapter Eight

Shayla couldn’t sort out her conflicting thoughts about everything she’d learned and seen. Upon getting home from the club, sleep did not come after she went to bed Saturday night.

Rather, Sunday morning.

Even after she’d used her vibrator to reach orgasm twice, which was a record for her. It wasn’t uncommon for her vibrator to be useless getting her off, especially since her breakup.

That was something James had in his favor. Despite his failures as a decent human being, he’d been great in bed. At least, he had in the beginning before the porn took over his life and attention.

Damn sure the only thing I miss about him.

Another obvious sign she still mentally kicked herself for missing. As his sexual attention waned, she hadn’t thought much of it at the time. They’d both been busy with work, and didn’t all relationships eventually reach a plateau where sex became secondary and not a primary part of the dynamic? She never dreamed it was due to the fact he had a severe porn addiction.

Nothing Shayla had learned in the class, or the things she’d seen in action at the club, had been even remotely like the hard-core, sadistic, humiliating bondage and abuse videos James had been so fond of. Even the scene between Landry and Valerie had enough tenderness and consideration between the participants to make some little part of Shayla sigh with satisfaction.

Yes, Landry had delivered some pretty hard blows to the woman’s ass, but in retrospect, after Tony’s educated commentaries, she could see the care Landry took not to cause harm or overstep Valerie’s limits.

Then there was Sully and Mac’s scene. That definitely left her panties damp, and she’d never thought she’d be turned on by watching two men together. The thick, delicious sexual tension in their scene was hotter than any raunchy porno she’d ever viewed despite the apparent brutality of some of Sully’s actions.

Clarisse is a lucky woman.

Watching Landry top Cris later had been even sexier.

She lay in bed, tossing and turning until seven Sunday morning when she finally admitted sleep was out of the question.

She got up, put on shorts, a T-shirt, and some running shoes, and headed outside. It still felt relatively cool compared to how hot the afternoon would turn. With thin shadows still draped across the green space, she headed north along a path. It led to a county trail made out of a converted railroad bed.

Trying to escape her thoughts, she walked for nearly an hour. By that time the sun had fully risen and chased away the last of the cool shadows.

And still, answers eluded her.

She didn’t understand why part of her responded so viscerally, so positively, to what she had seen. Every time she thought about Landry jamming the vibrator into Valerie’s crotch and forcing her to orgasm, she felt her own clit throb a little with longing.

Thinking about how Ross made Loren come during their scene. And Seth and Leah.

Pain and pleasure, irrevocably mixed together. Even when Tilly had scened with that guy…Bob? No orgasms there, but when they finished, the gratitude in his eyes as he hugged her, how her tenderness with him contradicted the vicious, hard-edged Domme she’d been only moments before.

Then how Landry took that same dominant, sadistic woman and turned her into a melted pile of submissive jelly.

It proved impossible to reconcile in her mind.

After heading home, she grabbed a cool shower and donned a large T-shirt and nothing else. It was tempting to use the vibrator on herself, but she had work to do and wanted to sort out her thoughts.

With her damp hair pulled back into a ponytail, she sat on the couch with her laptop and started compiling her notes. She wasn’t sure if she had enough information, or maybe too much to sort through, to write her article yet, but maybe putting everything down would help her focus.

The problem was she still had more questions than answers at this point. Certainly a ton more questions than when she started.

It’s not like I can ask anyone for their opinion, either. She didn’t want to admit to any of her friends or family what she was working on, much less that she’d volunteered to take on the project when she could have asked it be assigned to someone else. She didn’t want to have to explain herself to them after all the outrage they’d expressed on her behalf.

And still, the answer she wanted most of all and the one she’d likely never get—why hadn’t she been good enough for James? Had he wanted to dominate her like the women in the videos he watched? Why didn’t he feel he could talk to her? Why had he refused her offers to dabble in it with him after the first revelation?