Page 81 of At Her Pleasure

Her touch had brought a slight easing to his shoulders, but the attitude was still there, evidenced by his next words.

“Whatever you say, Mistress.”

She didn’t mind being challenged when it was real, not theater. She was pushing him with a lot of subtle messages, drawing the dark side to the top.

“Answer me like that again, and you’ll be gagged with a nice big butt plug that tastes like motor oil and makes your jaw ache. Then I’ll stick it in your ass.”

Before she could take the idea further, a loud question from the audience reminded her of what she’d forgotten.

She hadn’t officially started the session.

“What do you do if she goes too far?”

Cyn pivoted toward the Mistress who’d posed that question to Olivia. She was clad in Valentine heart red latex and black thigh high boots, a good look for her, though her fashion sense didn’t improve Cyn’s reaction toward her.

She reminded herself she’d agreed to do this publicly. So her response, spoken before Olivia could answer, was mild. For her.

“Olivia is one of the most experienced DMs at Progeny,” Cyn said. “She also knows my play style. If she has a concern, she’ll step in and pause the session to evaluate the situation. However, if you’re already uncomfortable, I suggest you go find the puppy play area so you can hug one of those subs. Find your safe space.”

You fucking pussy.

She didn’t say that, but it was as clear as if she had. Though Vera gave her a warning shake of her head, Ros was biting back a rueful half smile.

The Mistress subsided sullenly. Olivia sent Cyn a patient but firm, “you know you were supposed to let me answer the question” look. Cyn responded with a my bad shrug.

“This is a public session, not a demo,” Olivia followed up with the Mistress and the rest of the audience. “If you have a mild or moderate concern or question, it should wait for the end. If you feel it can’t wait, signal my assistant.”

She pointed to one of her subs, a tall, slim black girl several feet away, wearing denim short shorts, black tights and a white tank top, nothing under it. “Rae will meet you at the bar to hear your question. If she can’t answer it, she’ll bring it back to me. However, keep in mind my first priority is focusing on the scene and helping Mistress Cyn keep her sub safe.”

Olivia paused, scanning the audience and gauging response, including the red latex Mistress. “A consensual non-consent scene is difficult for some people to watch,” she continued. “If you are one of those people, I recommend you quietly exit and go to one of the other stations.”

Olivia sent Cyn a pointed look, a reminder of the other step needed before the official start. Cyn shifted to Mick’s profile, drawing his attention. She affected a formal tone, causing his lips to twitch. He obviously knew this wasn’t her jam.

“You understand this is a consensual non-consent session. You’ve agreed to it, and acknowledge if you use your safeword, it’s only for a medical emergency. You further understand it will be up to me to determine if it is a true medical emergency, corroborated by the DM. If it’s not, the session will continue. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“What is that safeword?”

Mick pressed his forehead against the metal. His shoulder muscles tightened, as if he were struggling with his response. “Cissy.”

Outwardly, she didn’t react. Inside, she froze. Was he serious? She expected him to try to throw her off her game. She didn’t expect him to be cruel.

His flat tone gave her no clue to his intent, so she pushed her reaction aside and treated it the way the audience would. “Sissy. A good choice if you pussy out before a true medical emergency.”

“Cissy,” he said. “C-I-S-S-Y.”

He didn’t lift his head to look at her. She pursed her lips and stood there several long seconds, until Olivia prompted her.

“Cyn?”

Cyn nodded, a short jerk of movement.

“The session is beginning,” the DM announced. “While the request for quiet applies to many scenes, it’s particularly important for CNC. No distractions for Domme or sub from here forward.”

Cyn moved to the table and regrouped. It was just her and a sub wanting to be subjected to whatever she demanded of him. She could let everything else go. This was the one place where everything made sense. In giving him pain, she channeled her own.

Yes, there was a danger in that, because that abyss had no bottom. But that was why she made sure her subs could use their safeword.