Page 54 of His to Teach
“Well, well,” he says, tone both surprised and amused. “I hadn’t heard you’d gotten a new sub. This is the first new girl you’ve brought in since Renee, isn’t it?”
Renee. That’s the second time I’ve heard that name mentioned here. I still have no idea who she is.
Nate doesn’t seem eager to talk about her, though. He grabs my hand and pushes past the man. “Excuse me,” he says, voice cold enough to bring goosebumps to my arms. “We don’t want to miss the beginning.”
He pulls me through the doorway into what seems to be a small theater, the man’s soft chuckle echoing in my ear. Nate’s odd reaction is forced from my mind as the scene in front of us begins to register.
We’re in a rather large dimly lit room. There’s a stage in front of us and several velvet draped booths circle the room, like boxed seats at an opera house. Nate leads me to one and opens the half-door to usher me in.
“We’ll be comfortable here,” Nate says, pulling me onto a couch in our booth. “And it’s quite private. Very difficult to see into the other boxes.” He settles me on his lap, whispering in my ear. “Besides, everyone’s attention will be on the stage.”
“Is it a show?”
I can feel his lips curl up into a smile against my ear. “A very interesting one.”
I want to ask him about the man from the hallway. To ask why his reaction had been so cold when he mentioned this Renee person. But just then the lights dim even lower around us, sending the room into darkness. I have no idea if the other boxes are full or if we’re the only viewers—Nate was right, it’s nearly impossible to see into the shadows. My heart is pounding with anticipation and what I’m pretty sure is excitement—though it might be closer to fear.
Before I can ask any questions, the curtains of the stage swing open and I stifle a gasp. There’s a woman there, a beautiful, completely naked woman with deep chestnut curls and an absolutely ridiculous body. But it isn’t her beauty that I find shocking—it’s her position. She’s restrained against a largewooden, diagonal cross, her wrists and ankles cuffed to the arms, legs spread, exposed to us.
“Hello, pet,” says a voice from the edge of the stage. I recognize Philip standing there, in his expensive fine suit, looking up at the woman like she’s prey.
“Philip and Cherise,” Nate explains to me, gesturing toward the still silent woman. “They often work together.”
“Work?”
He grins. “I suppose play is more accurate.”
Philip steps up on the stage and walks to a dresser, pulling items out and laying them out on top. I squirm against Nate, thinking about the whip scene.
“I’m sure you have questions,” Nate whispers, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.
“Is that a St. Andrews Cross?” I ask, nodding at the wooden structure I’ve only ever seen pictures of.
“Indeed,” he replies. “Very common in playrooms. They restrain the individual for punishments or for easier…access.”
I swallow, my eyes glued to the woman, whose breathing has sped up in anticipation, though she remains silent. “Cherise is an excellent sub,” Nate explains. “A great example to learn from.”
My stomach twists at the thought of him having first-hand knowledge of how great she might be. I try to concentrate on the scene, on Philip as he arranges the items from the dresser on a small table next to the cross. He turns back and I see he holds a crop in his hand. My breath hitches.
Moving closer to Cherise, Philip slides the crop over her bare breasts, which now seem to be positively heaving in anticipation. With no warning, he brings the crop up swiftly into the air and then down on her left breast. She gasps slightly, but otherwise makes no noise.
“Red or green, my pet?” Philip asks.
“Green, Master,” Cherise whispers.
“She’s letting him know how she feels,” Nate explains. “Red is her safe word. She’ll use it if she wants him to stop. Saying green lets him know she’s okay, that she’s ready to proceed.”
“Does it hurt her?” I whisper, as Philip again brings the crop down.
“Crops aren’t particularly painful. But even if it does hurt, she’ll enjoy it.”
I remember the sting of his spankings and I shift again, feeling distinctly wet between my legs. Nate rests his chin on my shoulder, and pulls me closer.
Philip uses the crop against Cherise’s breasts for several minutes. She’s audibly gasping now, her breath coming in rapid pants, and I can tell she’s struggling to wiggle her hips despite the tight restraints on her legs. Slowly, Philip moves the crop lower and lower on her body until he’s lightly whipping the area between her legs.
Cherise moans, loudly, and Philip chuckles. “You like that, hmm?”
“Yes, Master.” He does it again.
