Page 9 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“I warned you that we’re going to have an honest conversation. I suggest you take it seriously. I’m usually a very forgiving man but with you, I’m running out of patience. Believe me, you don’t want that to happen.”

“Why does anyone come to a club like this?” she quickly countered, a little more subdued but still with the same bratty attitude.

“Anyone isn’t the topic of discussion. You are. Answer the question.” The way his voice darkened was more than a warning—it was a demand. One she was clever enough to identify as her hands finally disappeared behind her back when she got into the position that he originally ordered her to take.

“I wanted… uh, needed to find an outlet for pent-up emotions.”

“Hmm. In which BDSM novel did you read that? His Sassy Sub? The Devil’s Kiss?” He snorted a derisive laugh. “Come now. Surely you don’t expect me to believe such silliness?”

“It’s not… I’m not…” It was evident that she was frustrated with her inability to express herself. From the confidence she presented from first meeting her, he would guess that she had a demanding career, was perhaps even a leader in her field.

Kaden picked up the red folder he had earlier placed on the edge of his desk. Paging through it, he picked out a specific page.

“Sheila Lovett. Thirty-four-years old. Single. Occupation: Security Management. Experience as a submissive: eight years.” He looked at her. “Eight years. So, that begs the question: Why would an experienced sub lie on her application for the Pair and Play event and ask to be placed in a severe masochistic scene?”

“I didn’t apply for a severe scene… just something more than, you know… the usual.”

“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you explain to me what, the usual, means.”

Again, some unintelligible muttering, which he once more allowed, purely because he found her expression adorable when she did it.

“What was that?” he asked with a straight face as he placed the file back on the desk.

“I wanted to find out whether or not I had unrealized masochistic tendencies by indulging in a bit of hard spanking that might reveal the truth.”

“If you haven’t been able to identify that you have masochistic tendencies after eight years of being a submissive then I can’t help but wonder what kind of Doms you’ve been exposed to.”

“Proper ones. Powerful, forceful ones, who offer their subs exactly what they ask for.”

“So, are those the fantasy Doms that appear in the books you’ve read or are they real?”

“Look, I’m done with you making fun of me,” she snapped.

“Believe me, Patty Cakes, a Dom worth his salt won't give a sub what she asks for. He’ll give her what she needs.”

“Same difference.”

“Anything but, which makes me wonder, do you even know what BDSM is about?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Maybe you know the basics, but I think it unlikely that I’d lose a bet if I said that you’ve never been inside a BDSM club, let alone having ever experienced a scene with a true Dom.”

She spread her arms wide. ““Since I’m sitting in your office, overlooking—oh, what is that down below? What do you know? It’s a BDSM club! So, I’d say you already lost the bet.”

“Keep going, Patty Cakes. The number of strikes is racking up pretty fast.”

Chapter Five

Sage bit back a sharp retort. Becoming more circumspect as the night wore on, she thought that maybe reining in the petite peste behavior would yield dividends of some kind. Her situation had deteriorated to the point where she found herself on the short end of the stick. And that same stick was getting shorter with each display of bad behavior.

She had, in part, already achieved something by showing up incognito at Club Rouge—confirmation that Congressman Beats had a dark side. Not that there was anything wrong with being a sexual sadist, provided of course, he was with a consenting masochist. That wasn’t at all obvious to her. The way his eyes had glowed at the prospect of using his whip on her, had warned of the very real possibility that this man harbored psychosexual tendencies of which he, himself, when fully aroused, had little self-control over.

Being stuck in an interrogation wouldn’t help her find actual proof against the corrupt bastard—no matter how much of a sex god her jailer was. Success would only be achieved if she got back in the dungeon. It was time to wind up this little interim power play.

“I apologize for my disrespectful actions, Master Alpha. I blame my reaction to my surprise at how cruel Master Bull sounded in his promise to take care of me.” As she had seen in the videos, she lowered her eyes and allowed her lips to droop just a little.

“Ah, I see. So, the true sadist immediately cured you from any desire to be treated like a masochist?”

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