Writes of Submission (9 page)

“No, thanks.” Allie handed her a mug of coffee and pointed to a tray of condiments on the table. “But you’re welcome to sit and chat while I cook.”

“Okay.” Nikki took a seat and reached for the cream and sugar.

“What did you think about last night?”

Nikki jumped a little. It seemed almost crude to be talking about sex in a kitchen first thing in the morning, but she supposed that wasn’t something that would bother Allie. Or Kane. If she was going to be a romance writer, she’d probably better get used to it.

“It wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” she admitted finally, staring into her coffee mug.

Allie laughed. “I imagine not. You haven’t been to any dungeon parties or anything like that, right?”

“No.”

Allie poured her concoction into a baking pan and popped it into the oven. Then she picked up her own coffee and came over to sit across from Nikki. “Let’s talk a little bit about dungeons, then. Am I right in thinking you’d be more comfortable discussing this with me to start with?”

Nikki’s head jerked up. She hadn’t quite considered that. “Yes, please,” she said. The more Allie explained to her, the less she’d have to ask Kane. She wasn’t at all sure about sitting down with Kane and talking about sex. How had she not thought about all this before?

Because, of course, she’d been expecting Candee Appelbaum to be a comfortable, middle-aged woman who used her imagination for the hot, spicy scenes she wrote. Not a gorgeous hunk of a guy who would expect her to go to public dungeons and watch people having sex. Or worse.

“All right, then.” Allie reached over and patted her hand. “You really need to relax, okay? I know this stuff is a bit of an acquired taste, but if you’re going to write about it, you should know how it’s really practiced. Misconceptions about our lifestyle can really hurt the people who actually live it.”

Nikki’s coffee cup paused halfway to her mouth. “Really? How?”

“Well, for one thing, people who don’t know better tend to assume that polyamory is no different than cheating, that BDSM is just abuse, and that power exchange is manipulative and preys on weak people. So if a single mother is ‘outed’ as being kinky, poly and in, for example, a ‘slave’ role, then it’s very easy to take away her children on the grounds that she’s an unfit mother who engages in dangerous practices, promiscuous sex, and an abusive relationship. In reality, that’s most likely very far from the truth. Of course there are all kinds of people in the leather lifestyle, just like any other community, and some are no doubt unfit parents. But most kinky people are very smart, strong, and capable who just happen to have a non-traditional relationship style.”

“But—a slave?” Nikki couldn’t help but ask.

Allie nodded. “It’s not quite how it sounds. Someone who identifies as a slave is usually a very strong person who wants to harness their energies in the pursuit of a common goal with their partner. The Master takes on the responsibility of helping the slave develop discipline, keep on track, and achieve their goals. It’s not a job for a weak person with no will of their own. There’s a lot of work—on both sides—but also a lot of potential for each person to grow and become more than they would be on their own.”

“I see.” Nikki took a sip of coffee, digesting this.

“But we need to talk about dungeon etiquette, especially if you decide you want to go to The Keep, our club here in town, this weekend.”

“Oh?” Nikki had the sudden feeling she’d done something very ignorant and rude last night. What a strange thought. They’d had sex in public, but she was the one who needed to be taught etiquette?

Allie gave her a reassuring smile as she got up to bring over the coffeepot and refill their mugs. “It’s not a big deal, and remember that we are doing these scenes for your benefit, so it was perfectly okay last night. But at the club, you would never want to ask questions during a scene, or disrupt it in any way.”

“Really? What if the bottom—is that right?—is in trouble?”

“That is the right term, yes. But you have to be aware of how some scenes are set up. People like to roleplay, and sometimes that involves what we call ‘resistance’ play. A bottom might be yelling ‘no’ or ‘stop,’ but that doesn’t give anyone else the right to interfere. They might be screaming their heads off, but there’s only one time you should be concerned enough to try to stop a scene, and that’s if they’re using the safeword ‘red.’ It’s pretty much universally accepted that if someone is calling ‘red,’ they really do want the scene to stop.”

“I’ve heard of safewords, but I wasn’t completely sure what they were,” Nikki admitted. “I always wondered why they didn’t just say ‘stop.’”

“Because it can be good to beg someone to stop, knowing that they won’t. If you
really
need them to stop, you have a safeword, but it can release some tension, or build tension, to yell ‘stop’ knowing that it won’t do anything.”

Nikki wordlessly added more cream to her coffee. She was beginning to see how much she had to learn.

“Now, we showed you some of the different stations last night, but we didn’t get into the toys too much,” Allie went on. “There are lots of other things that you’ll see at the club, like electrical play, fire play, wax, knives. Of course never talk to someone in a scene, except here, where it’s more of a lesson, really, than a scene. Never criticize someone’s technique, at least not unless they’re doing something in an unsafe manner. Don’t talk to someone who’s acting very submissive, like being led on a leash or serving their Dominant in some way, without asking the Dominant first.”

“What’s the difference between a Dominant and a top?” Nikki asked, relaxing a little for the first time. Maybe she could learn to deal with this stuff.

“A top is someone who is in charge of a scene,” Allie explained. “If I were flogging Brad, I would be the top. If we were sitting in the public area and he was giving me a foot rub or bringing me food, I’d be his Dominant. The term top refers to one scene, or a preference. The term Dominant can be used for anything from one scene to a lifetime commitment. Master is usually reserved for a very intense commitment. It can also be a term of respect given in recognition of accomplishment and service to the community. Even if someone is generally referred to as Master So-and-So, it doesn’t mean you have to call them Master. At a party, Sir would work fine and some don’t mind if you use their regular scene names. If they insist on being called Master, it usually means they don’t deserve the title.”

The back door open flew open and Dante came in. Nikki gasped a little. He was wearing nothing but jogging shorts and shoes, his hair pulled back and his muscles glistening with sweat.

“Good run?” Allie got up to pour him some orange juice from the fridge. She also poured glasses for herself and Nikki and checked the dish in the oven.

“Great. Thanks.” Dante took the glass from her and grinned at Nikki. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Not very,” Nikki mumbled, feeling her face go hot again remembering last night. God, she was really going to have to toughen up if she was going to hang out with this crowd.

“Breakfast will be ready in half an hour,” Allie told him, glancing at Nikki with a suddenly worried frown. “But Kane said he probably wouldn’t be down until ten.”

* * * *

Dante and Nikki were sitting at the dining room table at quarter after ten when Kane stumbled down the staircase. He groaned internally when he saw Nikki’s face, a self-righteous scowl proclaiming her displeasure. Great. Now she was going to turn into one of those early-bird-gets-the-worm people.

Her mouth opened and he held up a hand as he went past. “Not before I’ve had my coffee. Please.” He continued into the kitchen, feeling her eyes boring holes through him. If the coffee ran right out his back and trailed along the floor behind him it would be her fault. He hoped Allie made her mop it up. What a waste of a good cup of joe that would be. Shameless, really.

He came back out a few minutes later with a nice steaming mug and a couple pieces of toast. Nikki was practically snorting flames as she sneered at his “Write drunk. Edit sober” T-shirt. “Do you always sleep this late? How are we expected to get any work done? We’ve got to redo the first scene and brainstorm the next one—”

She stopped as he picked up a folder from the hall table and tossed it in front of her. He sat down. “For your information, I do my best writing late. There’s the scene we saw last night, without the commentary, of course. I also went through the one you wrote yesterday and made some suggestions. It actually wasn’t bad, although if you ever sneak in another trust-fund CEO on me, I will personally shove him down your throat.”

She stared at him openmouthed for a moment, then slowly reached out and took out the manuscript.

Kane turned to Dante. “So I’m thinking we’re going to need to make another run to that liquor store in town before tonight. I already went through all the wine, and I see many, many sleepless and frustrating hours in my future. Maybe we should see if they deliver and put them on speed dial.” He looked over at Nikki and was pretty sure her lips twitched a little as she read.

“Sure, man.” Dante glanced between them as if trying to figure out whether or not to be worried, but when Nikki didn’t react, he grinned. “You guys are going to be a hoot to work with.”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a carnival.” Kane gave him a wry smile in return. “You know, I’m really glad you’re here. I may need a corroborating witness to get away with a plea of justifiable homicide.”

Nikki was completely engrossed in her assignment and didn’t even look up.

Dante leaned forward and grinned broadly at Kane. “I finished your first book this morning. Brilliant!”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance fan, though.” Kane took another sip of coffee and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, not before this, no, and to be fair I wouldn’t have guessed you were, either,” Dante admitted. “But I think I’m getting a good idea of what you’re doing and I like it. I’ve got the next five on my Nook ready to go.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Kane considered him. He really was beginning to enjoy Dante’s company. He had a feeling he was going to need an ally while he and Nikki figured out how to work together. Romance writing was such a female-dominated industry that having another male viewpoint might come in very, very handy.

Nikki finished and looked up at him, all signs of the harridan that had been waiting for him gone. Her eyes were hopeful. “You really thought it was okay?”

“Yeah, I did.” He leaned back and sipped his coffee. “Even though we obviously disagree on the definition of the word ‘regular.’ I’ll have to buy you a dictionary for Christmas. You, of course, will be buying me an island to thank me for turning you into a runaway bestselling author right out of the gate. I, however, will hire my own helicopter pilot. Your guy’s hopeless.”

Something that sounded like a chuckle came from her as she bent her head over the scene he’d written last night. He waited patiently as she read through it, watching in amusement as the color rose in her cheeks.

“Well? What do you think?”

She put it down, visibly steeling herself to meet his eyes. “It’s great. You really captured the essence of what we saw.”

“Do you have any edits to make to it?”

“No.” Her voice was hesitant.

“But?”

She paused, looking down at her lap. “But I’m realizing the difference between reading about kinky sex scenes and actually writing them.”

“Or experiencing them.” He made his voice as gentle as possible, smiling when her face went even redder.

“Do you think—” her voice caught.

He waited.

“Do I really need to try that stuff?” It came out in a squeak.

He let his chair come back to all fours and leaned forward, making it obvious that he was waiting for her to look at him again. When she finally did, he nodded in approval. “It isn’t absolutely necessary, no, but it would be a good idea. You have a decent imagination and an excellent way with words and I’m sure you could bluff your way through it. But why not try it for yourself? If you aren’t at least a little intrigued, why do you want to write it? It’ll be a lot easier and much more meaningful if you know what you’re writing about.”

“Can I say something?” Dante sounded hesitant, as if he might get in trouble for disrupting their process.

“Of course, man.” Kane nodded at him. “We definitely need your input here.”

“I don’t want to interrupt—”

“Not at all. Interruptions are very welcome at this point. Come two in the morning when my muse is up and working, I may stab you with a pen. But for now, interrupt away.”

“Did you put something in that coffee?” Nikki looked suspiciously at the mug he was nursing.

“Not yet,” he told her sternly. “Now listen to Dante. He’s obviously more awake than I am and I think he’s got his head on straight. It would be good if at least one of us did.”

She narrowed her eyes but remained silent. Dante looked between them both, then settled on Nikki. “I think it would be a really good idea for you to try some of this stuff. I just wanted to offer, in case you’re interested, to help you get a little experience. I’d be happy to learn to tie you up.”

“Hey!” Kane had to stop himself from jumping to his feet, fists clenched. Maybe he’d been too quick to change his opinion.