An Education in Femdom: The Second Trilogy (A Bundle of Femdom Discipline and Submissive Training)

An Education in Femdom

Book 8
The Red Spot Press

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, dominant women and submissive men, bdsm play, discipline, crops, spanking, humiliation, multiple partners, and public sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Adam's first hours in his new mistress's house have been intense ones, but he knows they have only scratched the surface. Before he has done little more than catch his breath, it's time to meet the other submissives in the mistress's household and learn just exactly what he has gotten himself into. Far from being allowed to wade in slowly, Adam's initiation into this tight little community will mean getting tossed directly into the center of its many different flavors of discipline and power play. By the time his first morning has come to a close, he will have a lot more to think about than why there isn't a number on the mailbox.

Lessons in Submission: The Second Trilogy follows Adam over the course of his week as a submissive in the house of femdom run by the mysterious leader of the Tunisia Society. What begins as a hesitant experiment in the world of forbidden pleasure quickly careens into something much more serious, and the promises that they would not become too attached begin to erode. In the heat of the moment – and the moments get very hot indeed – who can say what will become possible and what will remain unattainable fantasy?

Excerpt
I turned just enough to catch how Chris's face fell and reddened at the news. "I..." he began, but trailed off.

"Up here."

He drew a breath and stood. The legs of his chair made a scraping sound against the hardwood of the floor and he winced.

"Here," Mistress repeated unsympathetically, pointing to a spot at the head of the table.

Christopher moved into place on unsteady legs and then turned back to regard us - the audience of his humiliation and punishment - with that flushed face. He reddened very attractively, I noticed with slight envy. His cheeks took on a very soft glow and his eyes stayed very round as he watched Mistress.

"Tell me," Mistress said to him as he stood at attention.

"Tell what, Mistress?" he asked.

"Why did you fail the inspection?"

"I - I don't know, Mistress. I didn't know I had until you told me."

"You know, Christopher, I don't really believe you."

He looked at the ground, flustered and stammering. After a few seconds he fell silent and he closed his eyes. Mistress watched him coolly. Another moment ticked by and then he opened his eyes and raised them to meet hers.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread's His to Train series with full consent of the original author.
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About the author

What’s to say? I love a good femdom scene. Thinking about a woman who takes all the power and dominance in the relationship for herself without giving up any of her own seductive femininity? Imagining a man who can accommodate a forceful woman and knows how to give up control without giving up himself and his masculinity. Well, goodness, those things just press all my buttons. What’s a girl to do but write her fantasies?

I love any and all feedback, either in the form of an online review or by emailing me at mirandacruz@theredspotpress.com. The satisfaction of readers like you is what I'm all about, and only you can tell me if I'm getting it right!

Also, subscribe to my mailing list! I'll let you know about new releases and never ever ever give your information out to a third party.

Thank you for reading and for supporting an indie author!
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Additional Information

Publisher
The Red Spot Press
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Published on
Nov 7, 2014
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Pages
68
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ISBN
9781310084515
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Best For
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Language
English
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Genres
Fiction / Erotica / General
Fiction / Romance / Erotica
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Content Protection
This content is DRM protected.
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Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, bondage, spanking, anal sex, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Society's mysterious leader, Adam has been offered the opportunity to spend a week with her and begin to explore his true potential as a submissive. It means temporary separation from Naomi, but the allure of what Adam has tasted is simply too strong to ignore. Once reunited with the woman whose touch thrills and controls him so perfectly, Adam begins the long road of self-discovery - rich with challenges and with pleasures - as he begins to learn what it is to have a mistress and just exactly who his is.

Excerpt:

Slowly, as though she could sense my impatience, Jessica's deep charcoal eyes turned towards me.

"Adam," she said simply, "I'm glad you could come."

"Mistress," I responded, eager to try the new form of address.

She smiled. "You've heard that word, have you? Good. We'll teach you the meaning of that word very thoroughly before you leave here."

A slight shiver ran down my spine. God, was I already getting hard?

She stood and walked over to me. "I like a new toy that arrives early in the morning," she said. "There is so much time left in the day to try it out."

She laid a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet her. With a slight pressure, she bid me stand and I rose to my feet, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been on my mind a very great deal over the past twelve hours," she said to me.

The number surprised me. Had it really only been that long?

"I'm usually such a patient woman," she went on, sliding a finger within the neck of my shirt, just brushing my skin. "What is it about you that so undermines my self-control?"

I trembled slightly at her touch and the tone of her voice. Her words were deep with intensity, and yet I did not believe her for a moment when she said her self-control was compromised. She seemed to have so much of it that it bled over and controlled me, too, without her being entirely conscious of it. Simply having her standing in front of me, looking and touching me, was enough to paralyze me until next she told me to move.

"And all nicely wrapped," she murmured. "I can always tell an outfit chosen with care. We'll put these clothes somewhere safe for the week. I wouldn't want them to wrinkle."

Her gaze held mine as she began to strip my clothes from me. A slight flush rose to my cheeks but I did not break eye contact. My God, she didn't beat around the bush. There was the slightest hint of a challenge in her deliberate movements. I am making you naked in front of me, her eyes were telling me. There is no secret or thought or emotion you possess that I cannot choose to uncover. You walked in my door, knowing who I was and what I wanted, and now you will be utterly mine.

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, spanking, public discipline, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Adam's first hours in his new master's house have been intense ones, but he knows they have only scratched the surface. Before he has done little more than catch his breath, it's time to meet the other submissives in the master's household and learn just exactly what he has gotten himself into. Far from being allowed to wade in slowly, Adam's initiation into this tight little community will mean getting tossed directly into the center of its many different flavors of discipline and power play. By the time his first morning has come to a close, he will have a lot more to think about than why there isn't a number on the mailbox.

Excerpt:

"Yes, Master," several of them agreed and the others nodded obediently.

"His shorter time here makes it all the more important that his experience is a positive one."

Again they agreed, smiles breaking onto some of their faces. I could feel excitement rising in the room.

There was a slight teasing note in Master's voice. It was as though he and the men at the table were in on an inside joke, as though they all knew what was coming and Master was being deliberately slow in getting to it: tantalizing them under the guise of introducing me.

Slowly, Master strode to the head of the table, a hand stroking his chin and that infectiously mischievous smile on his lips.

"For those of you who haven't heard," he went on, "Adam and I encountered each other at his audition for the Langston Society. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

He nodded, his hands splayed lazily on the wooden table and his eyes closed. "Quite a performance."

A slight rustling passed through his audience.

When he reopened his eyes, they fell as though by coincidence upon a small spiral-bound notebook lying in the center of the table which I had not noticed.

"And what's that? The Log?" he said as though surprised.

He reached out one hand and drew it towards him. A collective shiver along the table confirmed that whatever had everyone so on edge had a great deal to do with that unremarkable little book. He licked a finger, drew it open, and flicked through several pages.

"My goodness," he said. "Look at this. Would you look at this. Four days I'm away and you acquire a rap-sheet like this?" He tutted softly, turning a page back and then forward again. "Now I understand the nervousness. We have some serious accounts that need settling, don't we?"

The sighs and shivering had stopped. He now commanded the room in utter silence.

"Who was my record keeper this week?" he asked.

"Me, Master," a blond man seated two down from the end answered him. He had a lean muscularity and a well-defined face that was fixed in an expression of nervous expectation: a strange mixture of dread and excitement. Even sitting down he was two inches taller than the men to either side of him, and his pale skin was flushed.

Master shook his head and tutted again. "Hayden, Hayden, Hayden. All this happens when I leave you in charge?"

Hayden seemed to be holding his breath.

Master looked at his paralyzed, blushing form. "That's ten spanks, isn't it? For a house poorly run?"

Around the table the men nodded in confirmation.

"Would you come up here, please, where everyone can see you?"

Hayden rose carefully from his chair and made his way around the table. Master took his own chair and turned it around so that the back of it faced the room.

Hayden stopped beside him and stood waiting with nervous hands clasped over his bare stomach.

"Apologize to everybody, please. They are going to be punished because you couldn't keep them in line. If you had done your job, none of this would be necessary."

Hayden turned and faced the onlookers. "I'm sorry," he said in a weak voice. "I should have been better."

He seemed to include me in his apology. Not yet understanding what that meant, I took it to be flattering. Already I was a part of something.Yes, Master, several of them agreed and the others nodded obediently.

"His shorter time here makes it all the more important that his experience is a positive one."

Again they agreed, smiles breaking onto some of their faces. I could feel excitement rising in the room.

There was a slight teasing note in Master's voice. It was as though he and the men at the table were in on an inside joke, as though they all knew what was coming and Master was being deliberately slow in getting to it: tantalizing them under the guise of introducing me.

Slowly, Master strode to the head of the table, a hand stroking his chin and that infectiously mischievous smile on his lips.

"For those of you who haven't heard," he went on, "Adam and I encountered each other at his audition for the Langston Society. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

He nodded, his hands splayed lazily on the wooden table and his eyes closed. "Quite a performance."

A slight rustling passed through his audience.

When he reopened his eyes, they fell as though by coincidence upon a small spiral-bound notebook lying in the center of the table which I had not noticed.

"And what's that? The Log?" he said as though surprised.

He reached out one hand and drew it towards him. A collective shiver along the table confirmed that whatever had everyone so on edge had a great deal to do with that unremarkable little book. He licked a finger, drew it open, and flicked through several pages.

"My goodness," he said. "Look at this. Would you look at this. Four days I'm away and you acquire a rap-sheet like this?" He tutted softly, turning a page back and then forward again. "Now I understand the nervousness. We have some serious accounts that need settling, don't we?"

The sighs and shivering had stopped. He now commanded the room in utter silence.

"Who was my record keeper this week?" he asked.

"Me, Master," a blond man seated two down from the end answered him. He had a lean muscularity and a well-defined face that was fixed in an expression of nervous expectation: a strange mixture of dread and excitement. Even sitting down he was two inches taller than the men to either side of him, and his pale skin was flushed.

Master shook his head and tutted again. "Hayden, Hayden, Hayden. All this happens when I leave you in charge?"

Hayden seemed to be holding his breath.

Master looked at his paralyzed, blushing form. "That's ten spanks, isn't it? For a house poorly run?"

Around the table the men nodded in confirmation.

"Would you come up here, please, where everyone can see you?"

Hayden rose carefully from his chair and made his way around the table. Master took his own chair and turned it around so that the back of it faced the room.

Hayden stopped beside him and stood waiting with nervous hands clasped over his bare stomach.

"Apologize to everybody, please. They are going to be punished because you couldn't keep them in line. If you had done your job, none of this would be necessary."

Hayden turned and faced the onlookers. "I'm sorry," he said in a weak voice. "I should have been better."

He seemed to include me in his apology. Not yet understanding what that meant, I took it to be flattering. Already I was a part of something.
Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, femdom bdsm play, discipline, pain play, bondage, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

It's been three days since Adam arrived at the mistress's house, but when looking back on them he remembers only a whirlwind of new experiences that overwhelm any sense of time. In only that short period it has fulfilled all the lofty hopes that brought him here, but it has awakened new deeper, secret hopes as well. In quiet moments, he even dares to think that it is special to the mistress, too, even as experienced and worldly as she is. As together they delve ever deeper into the submissive dominant relationship and push at the boundaries of what Adam thought himself capable of and comfortable with, the promises that they would not become too attached begin to erode. In the heat of the moment – and the moments get very hot indeed – who can say what will be said and what plans may be changed to address these unexpected feelings?

Excerpt:

She had lowered herself so that she was sitting on my thighs, her skin against mine. Her hand rested on my hip as she continued to hold my face towards her with her other hand. It was a symbolic gesture. I could never have looked away now. She was praising me for things I had never known about myself, but now that she had said them and said that she liked them, I couldn't bear the thought of being any other way. So I looked at her, submissive and patient for her to do what she clearly wanted to so badly.

She produced a match from her pocket, struck it, and lit the candle before setting it aside on the floor. The clean scent of its smoke infused the air.

"Do you trust me, Adam?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good," she said. "That's good. Because this isn't something I would do with just anyone."

"I trust you, Mistress," I repeated. But even so, my chest felt tight.

She laid a hand on my on the pale, sensitive skin of my stomach. She could feel my slight trembling. She could see the trepidation that, in spite of my need to please and be brave and be open-minded, I could not shut out entirely.

"If it becomes too much for you, I want you to tell me," she said. "I want you to say so, alright? I want you to say 'Awry.'"

"Awry," I repeated.

"This is a safe room," she said, "where two people who trust each other can explore things that they would not do with other people."

I watched her, still at a complete loss for what was about to happen. I pulled lightly at my wrists. The bondage I understood. The bondage I liked. But it also made what was coming all the more terrifying, whatever it was. But I was grateful that she was speaking this way with me. It reminded me why I was not, in my conscious mind, afraid.
Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, dominant women and submissive men, multiple partners, bdsm play, discipline, spanking, and humiliation. All characters are 18 or older.

Adam has been in Mistress's house for almost a week now: doing his best to live up to her expectations and being brought back into line when necessary. Things have started to get intense, and in his struggle to make sense of his growing feelings Adam has made a misstep that will earn him the sternest punishment of all, and once again in front of the whole household.

But despite her strictness, Adam's mistress is not a vindictive woman. When debts have been paid, what she really wants is some time alone with Adam to begin to understand what exactly she feels for her new eager and ever tempting submissive.

Excerpt:
I turned just enough to catch how Chris's face fell and reddened at the news. "I..." he began, but trailed off.

"Up here."

He drew a breath and stood. The legs of his chair made a scraping sound against the hardwood of the floor and he winced.

"Here," Mistress repeated unsympathetically, pointing to a spot at the head of the table.

Christopher moved into place on unsteady legs and then turned back to regard us - the audience of his humiliation and punishment - with that flushed face. He reddened very attractively, I noticed with slight envy. His cheeks took on a very soft glow and his eyes stayed very round as he watched Mistress.

"Tell me," Mistress said to him as he stood at attention.

"Tell what, Mistress?" he asked.

"Why did you fail the inspection?"

"I - I don't know, Mistress. I didn't know I had until you told me."

"You know, Christopher, I don't really believe you."

He looked at the ground, flustered and stammering. After a few seconds he fell silent and he closed his eyes. Mistress watched him coolly. Another moment ticked by and then he opened his eyes and raised them to meet hers.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread's His to Train: Exclusive Discipline with full consent of the original author.
Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, dominant women and submissive men, bdsm play, discipline, crops, spanking, humiliation, multiple partners, and public sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Adam has always been curious about the kink lifestyle, but his exposure to it with his current partner has been a bit limited. But after an eye opening experience with couple acquaintance within the scene, Adam and Naomi apply to become members in the highly exclusive Tunisia Society, a BDSM network of the city's most powerful and influential women. Rather than questionnaires or resumes, the Tunisia uses only one metric to assess potential couples: the worthiness of the submissive. So it is that Adam finds himself standing alone before a gathering of the city's most powerful and sexually dominant women with only one task: obey.

An Education in Femdom: The First Trilogy follows Adam along the initial steps of his sexual adventure, first at the hands of his partner, then on the public stage of the Tremboix Society, and finally into the house of discipline established by one of the society's most prestigious members who, intrigued by Adam's charms, makes a rare offer to train him personally over the course of a week.

Excerpt

Slowly, as though she could sense my impatience, Jessica's deep charcoal eyes turned towards me.

"Adam," she said simply, "I'm glad you could come."

"Mistress," I responded, eager to try the new form of address.

She smiled. "You've heard that word, have you? Good. We'll teach you the meaning of that word very thoroughly before you leave here."

A slight shiver ran down my spine. God, was I already getting hard?

She stood and walked over to me. "I like a new toy that arrives early in the morning," she said. "There is so much time left in the day to try it out."

She laid a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet her. With a slight pressure, she bid me stand and I rose to my feet, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been on my mind a very great deal over the past twelve hours," she said to me.

The number surprised me. Had it really only been that long?

"I'm usually such a patient woman," she went on, sliding a finger within the neck of my shirt, just brushing my skin. "What is it about you that so undermines my self-control?"

I trembled slightly at her touch and the tone of her voice. Her words were deep with intensity, and yet I did not believe her for a moment when she said her self-control was compromised. She seemed to have so much of it that it bled over and controlled me, too, without her being entirely conscious of it. Simply having her standing in front of me, looking and touching me, was enough to paralyze me until next she told me to move.

"And all nicely wrapped," she murmured. "I can always tell an outfit chosen with care. We'll put these clothes somewhere safe for the week. I wouldn't want them to wrinkle."

Her gaze held mine as she began to strip my clothes from me. A slight flush rose to my cheeks but I did not break eye contact. My God, she didn't beat around the bush. There was the slightest hint of a challenge in her deliberate movements. I am making you naked in front of me, her eyes were telling me. There is no secret or thought or emotion you possess that I cannot choose to uncover. You walked in my door, knowing who I was and what I wanted, and now you will be utterly mine.
Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, bondage, spanking, anal sex, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Society's mysterious leader, Adam has been offered the opportunity to spend a week with her and begin to explore his true potential as a submissive. It means temporary separation from Naomi, but the allure of what Adam has tasted is simply too strong to ignore. Once reunited with the woman whose touch thrills and controls him so perfectly, Adam begins the long road of self-discovery - rich with challenges and with pleasures - as he begins to learn what it is to have a mistress and just exactly who his is.

Excerpt:

Slowly, as though she could sense my impatience, Jessica's deep charcoal eyes turned towards me.

"Adam," she said simply, "I'm glad you could come."

"Mistress," I responded, eager to try the new form of address.

She smiled. "You've heard that word, have you? Good. We'll teach you the meaning of that word very thoroughly before you leave here."

A slight shiver ran down my spine. God, was I already getting hard?

She stood and walked over to me. "I like a new toy that arrives early in the morning," she said. "There is so much time left in the day to try it out."

She laid a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet her. With a slight pressure, she bid me stand and I rose to my feet, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been on my mind a very great deal over the past twelve hours," she said to me.

The number surprised me. Had it really only been that long?

"I'm usually such a patient woman," she went on, sliding a finger within the neck of my shirt, just brushing my skin. "What is it about you that so undermines my self-control?"

I trembled slightly at her touch and the tone of her voice. Her words were deep with intensity, and yet I did not believe her for a moment when she said her self-control was compromised. She seemed to have so much of it that it bled over and controlled me, too, without her being entirely conscious of it. Simply having her standing in front of me, looking and touching me, was enough to paralyze me until next she told me to move.

"And all nicely wrapped," she murmured. "I can always tell an outfit chosen with care. We'll put these clothes somewhere safe for the week. I wouldn't want them to wrinkle."

Her gaze held mine as she began to strip my clothes from me. A slight flush rose to my cheeks but I did not break eye contact. My God, she didn't beat around the bush. There was the slightest hint of a challenge in her deliberate movements. I am making you naked in front of me, her eyes were telling me. There is no secret or thought or emotion you possess that I cannot choose to uncover. You walked in my door, knowing who I was and what I wanted, and now you will be utterly mine.

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, degradation, spanking, humiliation, discipline, punishment, submission and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.
Men Made Obedient contains three Femdom BDSM-themed stories of intense eroticism, dominance and submission, discipline, spanking, and humiliation in all forms.

Her Terms for Taking Me Back
After a series of relationships sabotaged by his own controlling ways, Daniel returns to the woman he remembers being happiest with, only to find her changed. Marissa has learned a lot about herself and about the world since they we last together and if Daniel wants to be with her now, he will be the one to surrender control. A fulfilling and charged relationship may await, but only after Marissa has made Daniel suffer for his past transgressions and made it very, very clear who is the dominant and who is the submissive.

When She Is Strict
As much as his mistress appreciates Richard's inviting, submissive body, his behavior can leave something to be desired. On a morning when Richard oversleeps and goes to his mistress later than expected, her interrogation reveals that he often touches himself after their sessions together when she has not allowed him release. His disobedience, his mistress informs him, reveals not only that he does not understand what it is to obey, but that he does not understand the great pleasure and gratitude that lie within true submission. But lest he worry, his mistress is here to instruct him.

Hers to Punish When She Wants
Mitchell has been meeting his domme irregularly for the better part of 3 months. He has never experienced anything as powerful, fulfilling, or seductive as his submission to the mysterious Mistress A. But their meetings are sporadic and he is desperate for more. Tormented by needs he never knew he had and which only Mistress A can satisfy, he searches the nearby residential areas until he glimpses her through an open window. He approaches the house, prepared to beg for more, only to uncover an unwelcome surprise and reap the penalties and pleasures of his disobedient arrival.

Excerpt:
Google has deemed this excerpt too explicit to be displayed.
Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, spanking, public discipline, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Adam's first hours in his new master's house have been intense ones, but he knows they have only scratched the surface. Before he has done little more than catch his breath, it's time to meet the other submissives in the master's household and learn just exactly what he has gotten himself into. Far from being allowed to wade in slowly, Adam's initiation into this tight little community will mean getting tossed directly into the center of its many different flavors of discipline and power play. By the time his first morning has come to a close, he will have a lot more to think about than why there isn't a number on the mailbox.

Excerpt:

"Yes, Master," several of them agreed and the others nodded obediently.

"His shorter time here makes it all the more important that his experience is a positive one."

Again they agreed, smiles breaking onto some of their faces. I could feel excitement rising in the room.

There was a slight teasing note in Master's voice. It was as though he and the men at the table were in on an inside joke, as though they all knew what was coming and Master was being deliberately slow in getting to it: tantalizing them under the guise of introducing me.

Slowly, Master strode to the head of the table, a hand stroking his chin and that infectiously mischievous smile on his lips.

"For those of you who haven't heard," he went on, "Adam and I encountered each other at his audition for the Langston Society. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

He nodded, his hands splayed lazily on the wooden table and his eyes closed. "Quite a performance."

A slight rustling passed through his audience.

When he reopened his eyes, they fell as though by coincidence upon a small spiral-bound notebook lying in the center of the table which I had not noticed.

"And what's that? The Log?" he said as though surprised.

He reached out one hand and drew it towards him. A collective shiver along the table confirmed that whatever had everyone so on edge had a great deal to do with that unremarkable little book. He licked a finger, drew it open, and flicked through several pages.

"My goodness," he said. "Look at this. Would you look at this. Four days I'm away and you acquire a rap-sheet like this?" He tutted softly, turning a page back and then forward again. "Now I understand the nervousness. We have some serious accounts that need settling, don't we?"

The sighs and shivering had stopped. He now commanded the room in utter silence.

"Who was my record keeper this week?" he asked.

"Me, Master," a blond man seated two down from the end answered him. He had a lean muscularity and a well-defined face that was fixed in an expression of nervous expectation: a strange mixture of dread and excitement. Even sitting down he was two inches taller than the men to either side of him, and his pale skin was flushed.

Master shook his head and tutted again. "Hayden, Hayden, Hayden. All this happens when I leave you in charge?"

Hayden seemed to be holding his breath.

Master looked at his paralyzed, blushing form. "That's ten spanks, isn't it? For a house poorly run?"

Around the table the men nodded in confirmation.

"Would you come up here, please, where everyone can see you?"

Hayden rose carefully from his chair and made his way around the table. Master took his own chair and turned it around so that the back of it faced the room.

Hayden stopped beside him and stood waiting with nervous hands clasped over his bare stomach.

"Apologize to everybody, please. They are going to be punished because you couldn't keep them in line. If you had done your job, none of this would be necessary."

Hayden turned and faced the onlookers. "I'm sorry," he said in a weak voice. "I should have been better."

He seemed to include me in his apology. Not yet understanding what that meant, I took it to be flattering. Already I was a part of something.Yes, Master, several of them agreed and the others nodded obediently.

"His shorter time here makes it all the more important that his experience is a positive one."

Again they agreed, smiles breaking onto some of their faces. I could feel excitement rising in the room.

There was a slight teasing note in Master's voice. It was as though he and the men at the table were in on an inside joke, as though they all knew what was coming and Master was being deliberately slow in getting to it: tantalizing them under the guise of introducing me.

Slowly, Master strode to the head of the table, a hand stroking his chin and that infectiously mischievous smile on his lips.

"For those of you who haven't heard," he went on, "Adam and I encountered each other at his audition for the Langston Society. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

He nodded, his hands splayed lazily on the wooden table and his eyes closed. "Quite a performance."

A slight rustling passed through his audience.

When he reopened his eyes, they fell as though by coincidence upon a small spiral-bound notebook lying in the center of the table which I had not noticed.

"And what's that? The Log?" he said as though surprised.

He reached out one hand and drew it towards him. A collective shiver along the table confirmed that whatever had everyone so on edge had a great deal to do with that unremarkable little book. He licked a finger, drew it open, and flicked through several pages.

"My goodness," he said. "Look at this. Would you look at this. Four days I'm away and you acquire a rap-sheet like this?" He tutted softly, turning a page back and then forward again. "Now I understand the nervousness. We have some serious accounts that need settling, don't we?"

The sighs and shivering had stopped. He now commanded the room in utter silence.

"Who was my record keeper this week?" he asked.

"Me, Master," a blond man seated two down from the end answered him. He had a lean muscularity and a well-defined face that was fixed in an expression of nervous expectation: a strange mixture of dread and excitement. Even sitting down he was two inches taller than the men to either side of him, and his pale skin was flushed.

Master shook his head and tutted again. "Hayden, Hayden, Hayden. All this happens when I leave you in charge?"

Hayden seemed to be holding his breath.

Master looked at his paralyzed, blushing form. "That's ten spanks, isn't it? For a house poorly run?"

Around the table the men nodded in confirmation.

"Would you come up here, please, where everyone can see you?"

Hayden rose carefully from his chair and made his way around the table. Master took his own chair and turned it around so that the back of it faced the room.

Hayden stopped beside him and stood waiting with nervous hands clasped over his bare stomach.

"Apologize to everybody, please. They are going to be punished because you couldn't keep them in line. If you had done your job, none of this would be necessary."

Hayden turned and faced the onlookers. "I'm sorry," he said in a weak voice. "I should have been better."

He seemed to include me in his apology. Not yet understanding what that meant, I took it to be flattering. Already I was a part of something.
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