I frowned. “Is that what you think submission is? You obey your Master and in return you get whatever he wants to give you?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Absolutely not.” I couldn’t help it, I was pissed at the thought, and I knew it was reflected in my body language.
“Then what do I— I mean, what does a submissive get out of it?”
“Drop the pretense, sweetness,” I snapped. “If you want to write a paper, we’ll do this in a classroom. If you want the experience, we’ll nix the scenarios and show you.”
There he is. The Dom she needs. You can see it on her face, can’t you?
I could see it in her eyes, yes. This woman had a strong submissive side. Even if she didn’t realize it yet.
“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Let’s suppose I’m submissive.”
I nodded, urging her to continue.
“And you are”—she motioned between the two of us—“my Doms. What do I get out of this? Aside from the opportunity to spend more time with you?”
Cav jumped in, his tone reflecting the same frustration I felt. “What do you want to get out of it, cupcake? If you’re doin’ it solely to get the attention of a man you’re interested in, why would you put yourself through it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think Brax and Case are with your brother because they want his attention?” I asked.
“Yes,” she insisted. “I do. Case needs what Zeke can offer.”
“And what’s that?” I needed to know if she could see the bigger picture, the deeper meaning behind it all.
“He needs Zeke to … beat on him.”
“He’s a masochist,” I explained. “He craves the pain.”
“So, if he submits,” she said, her forehead creasing, “he gets Zeke.”
“No,” I countered. “He gets what Zeke can give him to fulfill his need for pain. In turn, he gives Zeke what Zeke needs.”
“As a submissive, he’ll need that, too,” Cav added. “The pleasure … the fulfillment of giving Zeke what he needs.”
“So it’s a give-and-take?” She seemed to ponder this.
“Absolutely,” Cav inserted. “How could we ask a submissive to give themself over to us if they’re not gonna get somethin’ out of it?”
“Do you think Luci submits because she wants Landon’s and Langston’s attention?” I tossed out. “She gets that at work already. If she submits simply because she wants their attention, what does that fulfill for her?”
“I don’t know. If it were me, I’d get tired of it,” Jamie declared. “Tired of doing everything for them.”
“Are you confusing being a submissive with being an employee?”
Her dark eyes held the answer. She was.
“Being submissive doesn’t mean you ever pick up a dishrag,” I explained. “Or a vacuum. Cleaning the house, doing the dishes, making the bed … those aren’t forms of submission. Those are chores.”
“In some of the books I’ve read, a Dom will order a submissive to do those things.”
“And you think the submissive derives pleasure from the actual act of cleaning the house?”
“No?” She stared at me and I could tell she was thinking it through.
I waited for it to click.
“She derives pleasure from pleasing her Dom,” she mused. “From following his instructions, regardless of what those instructions are, she would get that. To know he was pleased by her actions…” Jamie smiled. “That would be where the pleasure comes from.”
Bingo. She’s a fast learner.
“She wants to give up control to her Dominant,” Cav explained. “She craves his command because it gives her the structure she needs, plus the opportunity to please him.”
“I didn’t think of it that way.” Her eyes shifted back to mine. “So, this is what you learn in the training class?”
I shook my head. “It’s more about safety, reading a Dominant’s intentions, being able to assess the situation, and making sure you’re in it for the right reasons.”
“I won’t learn how to please my Dominant?” she questioned.
“Not by vacuuming the floor, no,” Cav said with a chuckle.
“You will learn how to please him,” I acknowledged. “In a sense. And you’ll learn about the various equipment, the positions, the logistics of it all. But most importantly, you learn how a Dom can fulfill your needs and the difference between submission and abuse. A submissive ultimately holds all the power because without your need to submit, what does a Dominant have?”
“A rag doll,” she said simply, her eyes locked with mine.
“Exactly. That’s not what I’m looking for.” I glanced at Cav. “You?”
“Nope. Prefer my submissives to be a little more interactive.”
“I need to walk in a submissive’s shoes,” she finally said after a few moments of silence. “To see what it feels like. I mean, I understand what you’re saying. It makes sense in my head, but I can’t quite grasp how a submissive would know they hold all the power.”
Cav sighed. I glanced over to see him rolling his eyes.
She was making this too difficult. Too clinical.
“You’re looking at this the wrong way,” Cav said, exasperation in his tone.
