I heard voices then, two men talking. They must have been coming down the stairs.

As they came into the room I recognized one of the voices as Damon's. "That's something for the finance committee to work on," he was saying.

"No doubt you're right," said the other man. He sounded older, and his accent was different from Damon's, with more r sounds. "Ah, and here she is. Good to see you, Vanette, my darling."

"Good to see you, Director."

I heard the sound of the chairs being pulled back on the carpet and them settling themselves. Vanette cleared her throat again. "State your name and that you are here of your own free will, that no one coerced you into appearing here, and that you are not being paid or compensated for your attendance."

"Karina Casper, and yes, I'm here of my own free will and no one is paying me."

She then addressed the other two. "American, as you can hear. Turned twenty-seven recently. No known family in the UK."

"What's she doing in London?" the director asked.

"Working at Tate Britain," Damon said. "That's where I met her. Karina, why don't you tell us why you're interested in serving us in the society?"

Well, it was your idea, I wanted to say, except now that I had decided on checking the place out to try to find James, I couldn't very well say that. "You made it sound very intriguing," I said. "And so did Nadia and Juney."

"How would you describe your experience?" Vanette asked, her voice sharp and serious, like her clothes.

"You mean, my sexual experience?"

"With service or other S-type roles."

"Oh." How should I describe my relationship with James? "I don't know if I'm really what you could call submissive, but I do follow instructions well. I've done some rope bondage." Let's see, what were the other things I'd seen described on the Internet? "Medical play and shaving. Orgasm denial. I've been...played with in public a fair bit-"

"In front of the general public?" Vanette asked. "Or at play parties?"

"Mostly the general public," I admitted. "Secretly, like going to a restaurant with my...partner, when he had me wear a sex toy, and also at things like performance art."

"Performance art?" The director sounded a bit amused.

"At an art gallery in New York. Well, it was invite only, so I don't know if you count that as public or private, but I was sort of a spectacle. People in the audience could pick up a riding crop and try to hit me on the ass."

"Did you enjoy it?" Vanette asked.

"Yes. It was very intense. And arousing." How much of my arousal was caused by the sensation of being struck, how much was the thrill of being naked and exposed, and how much was the fact that James was in control? I wondered.

"And your partner, did he also perform more, ahem"-the director cleared his throat, and I was amused that a man who was the head of a secret sex club seemed to stumble over these words-"overtly sexual acts in public?"

I paused before answering, trying to figure out which things would be considered overt or not. I decided the best thing to do would be to give a frank description. "If making me come in public, like in restrooms or public libraries, counts as overtly sexual, then yes."

"Did he fuck you?" Vanette asked, and I heard a bit of a smirk in her voice.

"Yes. Once." I pressed my hands together. I hadn't realized that cataloging everything I'd ever done with James was going to make me miss him even more. I didn't think it was possible to miss him more than I already did, but now I felt his absence like an ache all over my body. Oh, James, does it have to be this way? And is it you I need so much, or the things you used to do to me?

I drew a deep breath. Was I ready to find out the answer to that question? One more reason why I had to find him. I had to know. Did he miss me as much as I missed him? If he didn't, then maybe it really was over. Maybe it was time to move on. But I had to believe, deep down, that he felt the loss. He was running scared from how much he loved me and how vulnerable that love made him. Right? He was a man of masks, but love stripped them away-or at least I had stripped them away. I had to believe he wouldn't have let me go that far if he didn't love me too.

And I had to believe that if I could find him, I could break through the wall he'd built around himself. I could make him see he didn't have to run.

The questioning turned away from directly sexual topics after that, and it became almost like a job interview. We talked about art and my previous job as a waitress. I even told them Jill's tips for reading customers. But things came back to the topic of submission when Vanette asked, "Have you thought about what your training goal is? What you hope to get out of serving the society?"

"Well, I would like to understand what's going on in the minds of dominant men," I said. "Nadia said you become a sort of mind reader if you're good. I would definitely like to develop that knack."

I think it was Damon who stifled a snigger. Vanette went on. "Society trainees have two other things to determine. One is what your slave name will be, and the other is your personal dictum."

"Dictum?" I repeated. Nadia and Juney hadn't used that word.

"You may choose one thing that you do not allow," Vanette said.

"Ah, right. I didn't know that was what it was called."

"Have you given any thought to what your prohibition will be?"

I had given it a lot of thought, actually, but until that moment I hadn't known what to ask for. It became suddenly clear to me, though, as I sat there. "Intercourse."

"Oh, now that's interesting," the director said, his voice light and animated. "You mean to say you won't allow anyone to, ahem, fuck you?"

"Yes," I said.

The director slapped his hand on the table. "In other words, you're not interested in the job as a way to get laid. Excellent! You see, Vanette? That's the spirit we've been missing in the society. Not that I object to all the luscious creatures we have about the house, but these days, they're all so...so loose. Even when their discipline is tight as a drum."

Vanette's voice dropped in pitch. "I don't think that's it at all, Director. I think she's saving herself for someone. Is that what it is, Karina?"

I bowed my head. "Yes."

"A real someone? Or your fantasy master whom you hope to meet among our ranks?"

"A real someone."

She huffed. "If we're going to spend the time to train her, then I don't want her flitting off the second Mr. Right comes to his senses and realizes what a plum he has before him."

Damon hadn't spoken for a long time, but now he answered. "I find it more likely she'll forget all about Mr. Right once she's exposed to our ways. And then if one of our members wants to make a permanent partner of her? Well, isn't that part of our job?"

Vanette snorted. "Karina. I take your suggestion to mean that you won't allow penile penetration."

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"That means, however, that you'd be available for every other form of sexual play or torment."

"I figured that...um...ma'am." Was ma'am even the right thing to call her? Mistress? I didn't know.

"Well, I am all for accepting her into the training program," the director said. "I find her a very intriguing and bright candidate. Something different."

"I am not convinced," Vanette replied. "She lacks experience, and I worry that she will be unable to perform adequately when it comes to sex. Service talents are all well and good, but, gentlemen, none of us here is deluded into thinking that is enough."

Damon spoke up then. "And if I took her for a weekend and put her through her paces? If I find her adequate sexually, shall we reconsider?"

They went quiet for a moment, and I had the urge to lift the edge of the blindfold to see what they were up to. If I had to guess, they were all glaring at each other, or at least Damon and Vanette were.

Vanette gave in. "Fine. I'll be interested to see what you can do with her with that dictum in place."

Damon made a surprised noise.

"Because of course that's the condition that needs to be tested," she went on.

Damon sighed. "Very well."

"That sounds like we're in agreement then," the director said, "that is, if Ms. Casper agrees. Karina Casper, if you agree, you'll belong to Damon George for a weekend and operate under all the usual rules of our trainees. Your society dictum against sexual intercourse will be honored."

So, Damon had come up with a reason to get me in his limo after all. But it seemed the only way forward, and I realized that as long as he wasn't trying to fuck me, I felt fine about being alone with him. "Yes, I agree," I said.

"Good." Damon clapped his hands once. "If you really agree, you'll crawl over here and kiss my shoe."

I chuckled inwardly, thinking, Let the games begin. "All right."

I slipped to the floor and crawled across the thick carpet under the table in the direction his voice had come from. I felt for his feet with my hands. There. I had my palm on the instep of one of his well-shined leather shoes. I pressed my lips to it.

I felt him stand up. "From this point forward, I'm Mr. George to you."

"Yes, Mr. George." I swallowed. My clit began to throb the moment I answered him.

He hummed in appreciation. "Follow my voice."

He was backing away. I crawled slowly after him, and I felt my lower lips moving slickly against each other.

"Stop there," he said. "Turn around."

I did as he asked, crawling in a circle. Then I felt his hand give a firm caress to one of my ass cheeks. His cupped hand slid between my thighs, and I squeaked, wondering if he could feel the wetness.

"She's very turned on," he said to the others.

"Then I suppose you have a good weekend ahead of you," Vanette said.

"Just remember, old boy, no wetting the dipstick!" I heard the director slap him on the shoulder. "Now, we should discuss that balloon payment."

"Yes, of course, Director." To me he said, "You will stay still, with your head down, until your dominant has left the room."

"Yes, Mr. George."

"Excellent. I will message you about the weekend."

I stayed where I was, listening to the sound of feet crossing the carpet and then the parlor door sliding shut. I wondered if that meant it was okay for me to get up.

I startled as Vanette's voice came from my left. "Is he telling the truth? Are you wet?"

I squeezed my legs together. "Gushing, ma'am."

"All right. I wanted to be sure spending the weekend with George wasn't going to be a total chore for you. Is he very much like your previous partner?"

"No, ma'am, not really."

"And I told you to call me Vanette."

"Oh! Sorry, ma-Vanette." I felt her approach me and then gentle tugs on the knot of the blindfold.

"Watch your head when you stand," she warned.

I opened my eyes and saw I had ended up with my head partway under the table. I climbed to my feet and straightened my jacket. "Can I ask a question? About the whole names and titles thing?"

"Of course," she said.

"Some people use aliases, some people don't, some people have titles, some don't...How is someone supposed to know what to use?"

She smiled. "Well, that's one of the things you start to learn, but generally speaking, it's considered polite and proper to ask how people should be addressed. Now that you know it, you'll be listening for when people say things like 'Call me Vanette.' And if they don't, you'll know to ask, with proper deference of course, 'Excuse me, but how would you prefer to be addressed?' Some of them will tell you sir or ma'am is acceptable. Others will insist on a title or a name. It will be your job to remember what they tell you, of course."

"I understand." I wondered if I should have asked James what to call him sooner than I did. Then again, I realized I had asked very early on. And he had actually told me his real name. I just hadn't known or believed it at the time. "What about the society itself? What do I call that?"

"Well," she said, an amused smile twisting her lips, "you're forbidden to speak of it to anyone, so why would you need a name for it?"

"I meant among us."

"We have no name. Just referring to the group as the society is enough, since among our company everyone would know what you were talking about."

"Ah, I see."

"You should make your way back to the Underground now," she said. "Nadia is here to escort you and return your phone." She clapped her hands twice, and the parlor door slid open, revealing Nadia.

I made a quick trip to the restroom before we got going. Neither of us said anything until we were a few blocks away, and then she handed me back my phone. "Here you are."

"Thank you. Wow, talk about giving the third degree."

"They do grill you pretty good. I don't know how many they turn down. It's not as easy to get an interview as it might seem from how taken with you Mr. George is."

"I'm supposed to spend the weekend with him for evaluation."

"Oh, truly? That sounds like him. He makes sure everyone else gets sloppy seconds." She blushed as she said it and put her hand to her cheek, holding in a laugh.

Her comment made me giggle. "What's funny is...well...I picked sex as my dictum. I mean, sex-sex."

"Oh, you wicked girl!" She squeezed my upper arm as the train station came into sight. "He will hate that. He absolutely loves to rule with his 'love rod.'"

That made me snort, and we both laughed. "I think he thought he was going to have his way with me," I said. "Vanette put a stop to that."

"Oh, she is such a wonderful ball-busting bitch when she needs to be," Nadia said with a sigh. "She's fantastic. She's supposedly only a handler, but none of the tops or masters dare get out of line when she's around. Well, not that they get out of line much anyway, and risk expulsion or censure. They're very, very big on rules."

"I noticed." We passed through the turnstiles. "Which way are you going?"