Since it didn't appear to bother him, she forced herself to relax.

"Better," he approved. "Maybe you'll get the hang of this submission thing. Now, face me again."

He washed her breasts, her abdomen, her belly, even her legs. "I thought I was supposed to do this for you, Sir."

"At times," he agreed. "But caring for a sub's needs is part of being a good Dom."

He was right. If this continued and he pampered her like this all the time, she would most assuredly get the hang of this submission thing.

When he was done washing her, he grabbed a towel that he'd thrown over the top rack and dried her. He took exquisite care of her, drying each part of her, even between her legs.

She realised she shouldn't be so stubborn. She could stay the night, curled up in his inviting bed. But she knew herself too well. If she yielded, it would be too easy to start caring for him.

He allowed her to keep the towel wrapped around her as she followed him down the stairs. Unfortunately, he'd donned a loose-fitting pair of athletic pants and a T-shirt. He still looked every bit as hot as he did naked, though.

As she dressed, he said, "There's a party a week from Saturday night at the Den. I understand Evan C will be in attendance."

Excitement and anticipation thrummed through her at his words. She'd sent the confounded man several e-mails and even an unsolicited proposal for his career. She'd received nothing back but an automatic response saying that he appreciated her writing to him and, due to the large volume of correspondence he received, he regretted he was unable to send a personal reply. Which was exactly why he needed to hire her. He didn't realise how many more sales he could generate if he had a strategic social networking plan. His refusal to acknowledge his fans was career suicide.

This was the opportunity she'd been working towards. She might not be the world's most fabulous submissive yet, but she had made significant improvements since she'd seen him last. She was sure to get his attention.

And she still had some time left to refine her skills.

"Would you like to go?" Master Alexander asked.

Her heart quickened. Everything she'd worked for was coming together. "You'll take me, Sir?"

"If you'd like a companion. Otherwise, you can go alone. I'm sure Master Damien will add you to the party list. It's a perfect opportunity for you to show what you've learnt. It's your call. But if you'd like, I'd be honoured to accompany you."

Chapter Seven.

Alex folded his arms and looked down at the naked Chelsea. She was at his home for the fifth day in a row. Every time she showed up, her behaviour was more and more perfect. He knew she'd joined some online communities where she was getting feedback from other submissives, and it showed.

She occasionally set her chin in a mutinous line, but those occasions were becoming rarer. He still put her in a posture collar from time to time, but she had ceased protesting that, also. Today she was naked, except for a pair of stockings and heels she referred to as 'stupid high'. He thought they were almost tall enough.

He knew she was looking forward to having the opportunity to see Master Evan C. And it seemed her efforts to learn everything possible had redoubled when he'd invited her to the upcoming party at the Den. "Present your breasts, sub."

"Yes, Sir," Chelsea said, her voice strong. At his request, she never whispered now. She lifted her breasts and drew them together. She looked at the floor the whole time.

If he had a sub, he'd want her to be just like Chelsea. "Ask me to clamp your nipples." This was the first time he'd asked that of her, and he wondered how she would respond.

"Please, Sir, clamp my nipples as hard as you want."

He pinched the rosy tips, and she winced. He tugged hard, and she moaned but didn't protest.

"Thank you, Sir," she said when he released her.

"These are Japanese clovers," he told her. A sturdy chain ran between each clamp, and he dangled it over his index finger. He held them in front of her eyes so they filled her vision. "I've selected a fairly vicious pair." He saw her shoulders tighten. "But if you learn with these, others will be very easy to tolerate."

"If you say so, Sir."

He squeezed her left nipple hard, then closed a clamp over it.

"Jesus, Sir!"

"I take it that hurts."

"I want it off." She glared at him "Then use your safe word or figure out how to change your attitude and compartmentalise the pain."

She breathed in. Despite her obvious discomfort and the anger he heard in her voice, she continued to hold her breasts for his torture. She was learning. "Good girl."

At his words, she exhaled a shaky breath.

More than any other woman he'd been with, she responded the most favourably to his approval. A few words from him had the ability to change her attitude. "Now you pinch your other nipple."

"Sir is an absolute..." She trailed off.

"Good thing you didn't finish that sentence," he said into the silence. "You will be punished for saying that much, though."

She stuck out her lower lip.

"And for that attempt at manipulation."

"I..." She sighed. "I apologise."

"Please don't. It's been a while since you felt my wrath. I'm looking forward to reinforcing my rules." Although she sometimes got off when he used corporal punishment on her, she was so different from Liz. Chelsea liked pain, but she didn't crave it like an addict did a fix. The idea of relinquishing her to another Dom, especially one who was unworthy, pissed him off. But hadn't he had his fill of keeping a woman he'd taken in for training? "Pinch that nipple." He looked at her and waited for her reaction. She blinked several times but said nothing. He gave the chain a fast yank.

She screamed.

"Pinch your nipple," he repeated. "Hold it for five seconds and then release it."

The moment she did, he clamped her nipple. Her breaths were ragged, but she remembered to keep her breasts cupped. "You really are becoming a well-behaved submissive."

"Thank you, Sir."

"At times," he amended. "You may let go of your breasts."

She remembered to express her gratitude again.

He gathered the metal chain in his fist. "The reason these are my favourites is that when you tug on them, they tighten, rather than coming off." To show her what he meant, he said, "Stand." He exerted pressure on her tits as she climbed to her feet in a shaky move. He did love the sight of her calves in the stilettos. Once she found her footing, he tugged again, urging her onto her tiptoes. "I should have clamped you a long time ago. It works great as a leash."

"Sir! Fuck!"

"Over here," he said, leading her to the couch.

She had no choice but to follow, but she didn't question him.

"Kneel up." He released the chain, and the sudden change in tension made her wince again.

When she had settled into position, he said, "Remove my belt."

"Are you..."

"Going to punish you? Yes."

Her lower lip trembled, but he knew this time it was from fear, rather than an attempt to sway him.

She unfastened his buckle, then slid the leather through the loops. "You're staying dressed, Sir?"

"You told me that it reinforces your subservience. So yes. I want you to be aware of your station."

"Of course." She doubled the leather over and held it.

"Offer it to me."

She extended her hands and looked at the floor.

"I like the way you do that. It's incentive to punish you more."

She shuddered as she returned to the kneel up position. He sat on the couch. "Over my lap, girl." To hurry her along, he grabbed the chain.

"I'm coming, Sir."

"Was that hostility in your tone?"

"No, Sir."

She draped herself across his lap. He jostled her around slightly. "If you need to grab hold of my ankles for support, you may. But you may not try to evade what you have coming to you."

"I understand."

"I'm going to give you eight strokes."

"Thank you, Sir."

He rubbed her skin to get the blood flowing. If she were his, he would enjoy seeing marks that lasted, but he was aware she probably wanted to look good for Master Evan C. "How do your nipple clamps feel?"

"Fine, Sir."

"I could put weights on the chain if you need a bit more pressure."

"I think they're sufficiently evil as they are, Sir."

He grinned. She sounded prim and proper. "Are you ready for your spanking, Chelsea?"

"Yes, Sir. And before you get started, I do promise to watch my mouth more in future."

"Good plan," he approved. He swung the belt hard, catching her across both butt cheeks at the same time.

She yelped, but she said, "Thank you, Sir."

After the second, she lifted her head slightly but thanked him again.

For her training, he'd been concentrating on the small details of submission, tone of voice, pretty motions, anal penetration, bondage, and posture. She took his belt well.

He traced her spine-mainly because he enjoyed touching her-before he laid the leather to her again.

Chelsea arched in response to the blow, but didn't protest.

He applied more pressure to the fourth stroke.

She grunted, a very unladylike sound, but otherwise, she remained quiet. She would definitely please some future Dom. "Move forwards a bit," he told her. "Palms flat on the floor. I want to give the backs of your thighs some attention."

When she hesitated, he dropped his left knee a bit to tip her off balance.

He finished the punishment, belting her several times in rapid succession.

She hadn't protested even once, and when he tossed the strap aside, she said, "That was hot, Sir. Thank you."

"It was meant as punishment, not pleasure," he said.

"It did hurt," she said.

Was she trying to reassure him? His lips quirked. He intended to teach her a lesson, but if she'd liked it as well, he could live with that. "Present, lying down on the floor."

She moved quicker than he thought she might. Oh, yes, she was pleasing.

He bent to rub a finger up the inside of her pussy lips. With a frown, he asked, "Did you shave this morning?"

"No. It was last night, Sir."

"It feels as if it's been several days. Take a little more care next time."

Her thighs quivered. "Sorry, Sir."

He slapped her cunt hard.

She screamed.

"That's a gentle reminder." He'd hit her hard enough to drive his lesson home and to ensure she wouldn't think it was meant as a turn-on.

"I won't be so remiss next time, Sir."