“Yes, Sir.”

His approving smile had the butterflies in her stomach doing loop-de-loops. “As to your first question, I try to do the rounds every hour or so,” he said. “I like to keep an eye on the crowd, the activities. I don’t believe you’ve seen the entire club yet, have you?”

“No.” Jessica’s gaze winced away from a man strapped to a bondage chair. A woman in a metallic blue bustier and leggings was tying ropes around the man’s balls. Sweat poured down the man’s face and chest.

They’d reached the double doors on the back wall. The area she’d avoided last time. Sir led her down a wide hallway where long glass windows alternated with doors on each side.

Z stopped her at the first window. “This is the office.”

She wrinkled her nose in perplexity. Why would he have his office here? And why were people crowded around the window to the room? She edged forward to peek around a man’s shoulder. Oh.

The room had a desk, rolling leather chair, books on shelves, thick dark red carpeting. Nice office. A man sat behind the desk writing while his secretary -- a woman with her hair in a bun, and wearing a tight skirt and white blouse -- was on her knees, sucking his cock.

Jessica licked her lips, then whispered to Sir, “Guess it’s not your office, huh.”

He grinned, a white flash of teeth, then led her farther down the hall.

The next room appeared familiar, and Jessica jerked to a stop. “That’s a --”

“A gynecologist’s table, yes. This is the medical room.”

A man, bare from the waist down, was being assisted onto the exam table by another man in a doctor’s white coat. Jessica shivered, remembering the feel of a doctor’s hands down there in that private place. How could that man do that, knowing everyone could watch from the window?

Even worse, the next room had the window glass slid open. People leaned over the windowsill, watching avidly as a man dripped hot wax onto a woman strapped to a table.

Horrified, Jessica wrenched away from Sir, backed away. Torture. That was torture, plain and simple.

Master Z held his hands out to her, gaze steady. “Jessica.”

After a moment, she put her cuffed and chilled hands into his warm ones. He smiled faintly, pulled her into his arms, and held her firmly against his chest like a child.

“The lifestyle runs from a little bondage all the way to severe pain. I avoid subs who need pain like that, for I do not have a liking to dispense it. Can you trust me to know how much or how little pain you would find enjoyable?”

“No pain is enjoyable.” She buried her head in his shoulder. “That’s just wrong.”

“And after your bottom was paddled, how did it feel?” he whispered, running his hand over her bare ass, reminding her of how the pain had mingled with excitement, making her hotter.

She couldn’t answer.

He didn’t make her, though his gaze was too knowing. He knew how it had made her feel. Damn him and that mind-reading stuff.

The next room, darkly medieval with chains dangling from a rock wall, contained only three people. A naked blonde lay face up on a roughly hewn bench, her arms and legs shackled to the floor. A woman slapped the blonde’s legs with a flogger while a man sucked on her breasts. Giving thin screams, the restrained woman arched her back, pushing her breasts up.

“The dungeon,” Master Z said. “It becomes more popular as the evening goes on, as does the playroom.”

The last room was huge. One round high bed, at least three times the size of a king, took up almost the entire room. Five people were in there, twisting and turning in various positions, all entangled together. One woman on her knees sucked on a cock while a man pounded into her from behind. Two men…

Jessica’s mouth dropped open as disbelief ran through her, then a thrill of excitement. “How…unusual,” she said, her voice husky.

Standing behind her, Sir put his arms around her, one hand cupping her left breast. He kissed her neck, murmured, “Your heart just sped up. Something interest you here?”

“No. Uh-uh.” She tried to take a step away from the window, but he didn’t move. Holding her with an unyielding arm around her waist, his other hand slipped between her legs and under her thong to the growing wetness there. He stroked her clit with his slickened fingers, over and over, until she squirmed uncontrollably.

“I grow tired of your prevarications, pet.” His voice had turned firm. “Answer me.”

She tried to close her legs, but his hand was there, spreading her pubic lips open. One finger slid into her, and she jerked as warmth shot through her body. He wouldn’t make her --

“I-I… Okay. It… I’ve never seen that.”

“There’s more,” he growled, obviously dissatisfied with her answer. The finger pushed deeper inside her.

“Sir.” She sucked in a breath and gave up. “It’s exciting.”

“What part did you find exciting?”

“The woman with two men,” she whispered, her face flaming hot.

“Anything else?”

Her hips tilted into his hand as he kept up the slow stroking. “People watching.”

“Thank you for being honest, kitten.” He squeezed her in a brief hug. “I know this is hard to talk about for you. Although we’ve moved past the days when only the missionary position was acceptable, society still insists sex should be only one man and one woman in private. It’s hard to get past that mind-set, especially for someone as conservative as you.”

The matter-of-fact logic was steadying, his understanding of her personality even more so. Just then, the man in the room behind the woman shouted his release, and the woman came, her hips jerking frantically.

And Jessica could feel moisture trickle down her thigh.

“Mmm-hmm, I think you’re getting past your inhibitions nicely,” he said, amusement in his voice. He kissed her neck then released her, leaving her throbbing.

Chapter Nine

They went back to finish their drinks; then Sir ignored her protests and took her out onto the dance floor. The music was slow and romantic. She could do this, especially with Sir holding her warmly against him. He danced like everything else he did, competently with a firm lead.

“How did you get so good at everything?” she murmured, enjoying the soft music, the slow glide of his hand up and down her back. He’d unhooked her wrists, and she savored the feel of his hard shoulder muscles under her fingers.

“You haven’t seen me anywhere but here, pet. Your opinion might be a little overstated.”

Somehow she doubted that.

“What do you do when you’re not here?” He seemed too straightforward to be a lawyer or businessman. Maybe --

“I’m a psychologist.”

She jerked back, stared at him. “You?”

He burst out laughing. “That amount of amazement isn’t exactly flattering.”

“But --” Well, heck, no wonder he read her like a book. “Then you don’t actually read minds?”

He pulled her back, nuzzling the hairs at her temple. “Within a short distance, I can actually read minds. Emotions, rather, and limited to what the person feels at that moment.” His hands curled under her butt, pressing her against his cock, keeping her half-aroused with his attentions. “Since I work with young children, being able to know what they’re feeling is essential.”

Sir. Working with children. And she could actually see it; she’d never met anyone more comforting, more able to make a person feel safe.

Still… “I’d have figured some sort of sex therapy, considering…this.” She waved her hand at the room.

“Counseling children is my gift to the world.” He grinned, rubbed her against his erection until her legs felt weak. “This is what the world gives me.”

Her body moved into aching need at the feel of him against her mound, the feel of his hands cupping her butt. How did he do this to her?

“Um --” She’d forgotten the question she’d been about to ask.

“And you, Jessica? What do you do for a living?”

Question. He’d asked her a question. “I’m an accountant.”

His soft laugh ruffled her hair. “I should have known. You would be a perfect accountant.”

“What does that mean?” she asked. Her hands came down from around his neck. She pushed him away enough to frown into his face and move his tormenting hands away from her butt.

He grasped her wrists and put her hands back around his neck. “Leave your hands there, pet,” he ordered. And then he put his hands back, only this time he slid his hands under her skirt so he was touching her bottom.

Her feet stopped.

“If you’re not dancing, my fingers can do this,” he whispered, moving one hand to her front, sliding between her legs, under her G-string. She jolted as his fingers explored her folds. “Dance or enjoy?”

She set her forehead against his chest, shivered as his fingers brushed over her clit. “Dance, please.”

When his chuckle rumbled through his chest, she shivered again.

After returning his hand to her butt, he resumed dancing. “As for being an accountant, you’re extremely smart, logical, conservative, controlled. You like organization and facts. And, at least when it comes to man/woman relationships, you are more comfortable with numbers.”