Teddy Bear Sir (The Sloan Brothers Book 3) (19 page)

Deacon stood.

“
You two sit in two of the most trusted positions in this company and you don’t even read the memos or emails that the CEO sends out?”

We were both shaking our heads and Deacon sat back down defeated.  He placed his head in his hands while his eyes remained on the table.  I went back to my tuna and Anton leaned forward.

“
And we’re just your brothers.  Can you imagine how many different ways your son can fob you off?”

Deacon’s head shot up and Anton merely grinned and took a giant bite of his sub.

Checkmate.

I stood outside the same building that we’d rescued Melody from, and checked once again for a response to my text message.  I was dressed in my leather pants - as promised - and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up (Ayla’s request).  Class started in thirty minutes.  I’d texted Melody to beg her indulgence on this embarrassing endeavor and as of yet, had received no response.  She was going to make me do it.

This bothered me for one very important reason.  Deacon and Anton were supposed to be in Costa Rica this very day, hanging above the tree tops, zip-lining.  They were supposedly home having dinner with their better halves.  No one questioned their refusal to go except me.  Deacon’s argument was that at seven months pregnant, Dorothy could barely tie her own shoes.  He wanted to be there in case she needed anything.  Fair enough, but I replied that her sister would take care of her needs.  That was met with laughter.  When I questioned Anton, he delivered a shrug and simply said, “I don’t want to go.  I have a wedding to plan”.  That was a lame excuse if I ever heard one.

So here I stood, staring at a building I detested, glaring at a door I did not wish to enter, dressed like the lead guitarist in an ‘80’s hair band.  As I approached, one thing was for certain.  My blackening mood was probably perfect for the endeavor I was about to undertake.

With my spine erect and my head held high, I opened the door and came face to face with a well dressed woman holding a clipboard.  I gave her my name, she snapped a black leather bracelet onto my wrist and told me not to lose it, as I would be required to wear it to get in for the rest of the classes.  I saw no reason to enlighten her to the fact that this would be the ONLY class I would attend.  I did not feel particularly communicative at that point.

I followed her directions to the large room we’d entered first the last time we were here and found it emptied of sofas.  The only furnishings were straight backed chairs, each containing a spiral notebook and a pen, placed on the seat.  I found it strange and oddly humorous that taking notes would be required.  My mind further wandered as I began to contemplate what the final exam would entail.  I found my first smile of the evening.

There were already several others present, most of them men, some were women.  Being one who dominated as opposed to being on the receiving end, I never thought much about Dominatrix’s.  As a rule I never sought personal relationships with bossy women.  I found them engaging in the workforce, but I didn’t like my methods challenged or questioned outside of work.  That excluded them as pleasurable companions.  Call it what you want, we all have “types” that we lean towards.

I sat in the second row on the end and faced forward.  There was a thick padded mat on the floor in front of the small stage, a waist high padded bench on the stage, and several implements laid out on a table near the bench.  I didn’t know if this would be standard equipment for all of the classes, but if not, then they would be cramming an awful lot into the first class.

Promptly at eight o’clock, all of the chairs were full except two.  The one next to me, and the one dead center in front of the mat.  Idle chit-chat was at a minimum so when the instructor and what I assumed was his Sub entered, the room fell instantly quiet.

The instructor was a rather large man, quite muscular and about my height.  He wore leather trousers and a leather vest, his torso bare of clothing or tattoos.  His Sub was quite small in comparison.  Her long brown hair was tied back by a leather strip and fell in waves to her waist.  Her eyes were big and dark.  She wore no expression and I found that odd.  She stood in a long gauzy white shirt that fell to her mid thighs and belted at the waist.  It appeared that she wore nothing beneath it.  Her feet were bare.

Upon entering, she knelt next to her Master, her hands palm down on her thighs, her eyes turned toward the mat.  Everyone present recognized the pose as the expected Sub position.  She awaited her Master’s command.  I’d had Subs in the past that did this naturally and it set the mood for the scene that followed, whatever that scene might be.  I remembered Ayla in that pose the first time we were alone and that memory made me uncomfortable now.  I would contemplate it later because our instructor began the class.

“
Welcome.  Tonight is the beginning of a journey you’ll be taking that will lead you to becoming better Dom’s.  My name is Master Daniel, and this is my Sub, Elise.  We’ve been together five years and we trust each other implicitly.  If you take nothing else from this class, take that and put it to good use.  You will never have a working relationship with a Submissive that doesn’t trust you.  That trust comes with responsibilities.  He or she will trust you to protect them and see to their well being and satisfaction.  They will trust you not to abuse your power over them or hurt them unnecessarily.  If you break that trust in any way, you are nothing more than a common thug that abuses women and you have no place here.  Is that clear?”

The group as one voice said, “Yes Master Daniel”.  It felt like a fifth grade classroom.

“
The first thing you will be taught is how to interact with your Sub...”

And so it went for the next thirty minutes.  He explained the approach and tone of voice used to reward and punish, as well as physical clues the Sub might give if stressed or in need of something, be it attention or a bathroom break.  He stressed the importance of safe words that were easy to remember and he recommended letting the Sub choose them.  I happened to agree so I wrote nothing down.  Everyone else was taking copious notes.  This was not brain surgery and I found their diligence almost humorous.

After the interaction phase, he went around the room and asked us to stand and give our first name and the name of our Sub.  I wasn’t sure why our Subs had to be mentioned and it stumped me.  But I was adaptable and so when it came to my turn, I stood.

“
My name is Master Pierce and my wife’s name is Ayla.”

Master Daniel smiled and instead of moving on, he focused on me for a moment.

“
You married your Sub?  How unusual.”

I found myself shaking my head.

“
No, I married my wife.  My wife kneels to no one.”

He crossed his arms and cocked his head.

“
Then what is your Sub’s name?”

“
I find no need for a Sub.  My wife takes care of my needs in every way and is open to any suggestion I make.”

“
So your wife does what you tell her?  That makes her a Sub by definition.”

“
My wife does what’s reasonable and tells me if she disagrees or finds something objectionable.  I take her suggestions and reasoning on board.  That makes her a wife.”

I watched his nostrils flare and knew he was losing patience.  I didn’t give a fig about him or his lack of patience.  Ayla was not a Sub and I would not be calling her one.

“
Pierce, why are you here?”

It did not escape my notice that he’d dropped the “Master” from my name.  I don’t think I gave a fig about that either.

“
I find Costa Rica and zip-lining not to my liking, and a friend of mine thought that I needed toughening up when it came to Domination.  She gave me this class as a gift.”

He nodded his head once as if indicating that we were finally getting somewhere, before he spoke.

“
Your friend is correct.  Is this friend male or female?”

“
Female.”

“
If she knows about your bedroom preferences, perhaps she could be coaxed into being your Sub.”

“
That would be wrong on so many levels, you have no idea.”

I said the words through laughter but everyone was looking at me as if I were addled.  This encounter was not going in my favor and the instructor had reached his limit.

“
Pierce, could you come up here please?”

I didn’t know what he could possibly be needing me for, but I complied like a good student.  He motioned to a spot in front of the table full of implements and I took a standing position there.  Master Daniel turned back to the class.

“
The rest of the class will be spent learning the various ways to spank your Sub using various tools of the trade, as I like to call them.  Then I’ll demonstrate proper after care.”

He placed his hand on his Sub’s head and she looked up at him.

“
Elise, assume the position on the bench.”

The first thing I noticed was that he didn’t say, “Please”.  I know what you’re thinking, but even as a Dom I find that good manners go a long way.  I was raised to say, “Please” and “Thank-you”, and I found both phrases widely popular with everyone, Subs included.

Elise gracefully draped herself over the bench, her bare bottom exposed to everyone.  While her bottom was quite nice, I saw no reason for it to be paraded naked to a room full of strangers.  I found it uncouth and opened my mouth to say exactly that, when Master Daniel interrupted my train of thought.

“
Master Pierce, why don’t you demonstrate the basic open palm spanking technique?  If you truly are a Dom, and I have no reason to believe that isn’t true...yet, then you are undoubtedly familiar with this basic form of punishment.  Don’t worry, she enjoys a good spanking.  Don’t you Elise?  You may speak.”

A small and throaty voice said, “Yes Master Daniel”.  Then all eyes were on me.

I feel at this point you should know that I’ve engaged in my share of spanking women.  I’ve never spanked one that objected to that form of punishment or play, and I never would.  Just like I would never dole out undeserved punishment.  Master Daniel didn’t say we were in scene or acting in a playful manner.  He specifically said that this was a “basic form of punishment”.  In my view, Elise had done nothing to be punished for.

“
I have no desire to spank Elise.”

Master Daniel looked at me as if I’d just urinated on his leg.

“
Excuse me?  Are you or are you not, a Dom?”

“
I am and I’ve had several satisfied Subs to my credit.”

“
Have you never spanked one?”

“
When it’s understood that it’s a deserved punishment, yes.”

“
Then why won’t you demonstrate a simple technique?  I could teach a five year old how to spank a Sub.”

The group tittered at that, but I held firm.

“
Elise has done nothing to deserve a spanking and I am not in the habit of punishing someone undeserving of it.  I don’t even know Elise.  She seems like a perfectly lovely Sub to me.”

Elise turned her head in my direction and smiled.  I smiled in return.  Master Daniel was not amused.

“
Do NOT address my Sub.  She is not to smile at, or respond to, anyone but me!  For that, she has earned the punishment you seem reluctant to give her.”

He was obviously insulted and angry and I felt bad for placing Elise in that position.  Normally, I would not interfere with a Dom/Sub relationship, but in this case, I felt that Master Daniel was angry at me, not Elise.  I could not in good conscience stand by and watch her incur physical pain because of my transgression.

He was turning to address the audience when I interrupted.

“
I’m sorry Master Daniel for my faux pas.  You are well within your rights to be angry with my unsolicited interaction with your Sub.  But if I may interject something, Dom to Dom, perhaps I am the one deserving of the punishment instead of Elise.”

He took on a deep shade of red and clenched his hands at his side.  He was well aware that the class was now looking at him, awaiting his response.  He had opened the class with a speech about the importance of fostering trust in one’s Sub, and this was a clear breach of that philosophy.  She trusted him to handle this situation with me, man to man, and yet he was clearly planning to inflict pain upon her simply because he could and he was frustrated.  Again, in my opinion, the action was uncalled for and cruel.

He turned his attention to me and narrowed his eyes.

“
What do you suggest Pierce?”

I do not know what possessed me to speak the words that fell from my mouth.

“
I’ll take the spanking in her place.”

A chameleon could not have changed color faster.  He went white as a sheet of notebook paper.  And clenched his jaw as he hissed out, “I do NOT spank men”!

Clearly we were at an impasse.  A woman in the audience raised her hand, and his head swung in her direction.

“
Yes?”

She stood, her back straight, her blonde hair pulled into a severe ponytail.  She was dressed in latex from head to foot and made an imposing figure.  She smiled at Master Daniel and her smile changed to something almost predatory when she turned to me.

“
My name is Mistress Ruby and I DO spank men.”

Master Daniel grinned in a way that told me that my day had just gone from absurd to unsalvageable.  He held out his hand to her and as she maneuvered towards us, weaving through the other students, he turned to Elise.