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  "I should call Caine and tell him to spank your ass!" Rebecca crossed her arms, about to pretend to pout, but it was too hot. "Jesus, Coley, can we get out of here? I'm dying."

  Coley shook her head. "No, just allow all the negative energy to leave your body. See? You already are letting it all out on Neely. Be free with your feelings and emotions."

  "Well, from what I can see, the man knows what he's doing. Your tattoo looks great so far," Neely complimented.

  Rebecca smiled. "He's good. I've had two sessions with him already and he's getting really far."

  "Do you like him?" Coley asked.

  Rebecca nodded as she tried to wrap her hair into a bun. "Yeah, he's really nice and easy to talk to. I felt out of place at first, but he put me at ease after a while. My next session is in a couple of days. I start getting some color at that point."

  "What's he like? I haven't met him before," Neely said, as she, too, tried to keep her hair off her neck.

  "He's not exactly what I was expecting. He's covered in tattoos and has the edgy look, but there's something different about him. He seems softer than I anticipated. Almost like the image of the typical tattoo artist isn't really what he is all about. He's really good at what he does and takes pride in it. But I get the feeling that there is more to him than just what he puts out there."

  Neely and Coley exchanged knowing looks.

  "What? What was that look?"

  "Nothing," Neely answered.

  "It just appears that Mr. Tattoo has piqued your interest," Coley added.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes and huffed. "Please. We are as platonic as you can get. The thought is comical."

  The girls exchanged another look, but Rebecca chose to ignore them.

  The heat grew in intensity—if that was even possible. The chimes seemed to get louder, and the chanting of the monks began to feel like fingernails down a chalkboard. She loved her little hippie friend, Coley, but sweat was pooling in every crevice of her body—this wasn't fun.

  "I've got to get out of here. Can we go get a glass of wine like normal friends?"

  Neely stood and nodded. "I agree."

  Coley dramatically threw her arms in the air. "Fine, but don't blame me if you still have toxins eating your insides."

  "I'll take my chances," Rebecca replied, as the three girls exited the box of Hades.

  * * * * *

  Rebecca was regretting what she had chosen to wear for today's tattoo session. She'd wanted to be comfortable, because this was going to be a long one, but she now found herself desperately wanting to change out of her yoga pants and do something more elaborate with her hair than a simple ponytail before Sawyer walked into the lobby. Being in this environment—his environment—made her feel like a Plain Jane. She should have made more effort.

  As Sawyer entered the lobby, with his tall frame, broad shoulders and a lean muscular build, Rebecca realized he was the perfect size. He was a handsome man; eccentric, mysterious… Wait, what? Rebecca tried to shake the new thoughts rushing into her brain. Damn Neely and Coley for planting a seed to suggest that she may indeed be finding interest in Sawyer. He wasn't really Rebecca's type. She usually preferred normal, clean-cut, GQ-like guys; businessmen who wore suits to work. Sawyer was not anything she would even consider. Yes, this was all because of her girlfriends and their ability to get in her head, nothing more.

  "You ready for today?" Without waiting for an answer, Sawyer's gaze shifted from Rebecca to the employee behind the counter. "This is going to be a long session. You can lock up and call it a day. I won't be needing you anymore."

  Rebecca felt prickles rise up on the back of her neck. She was more nervous now to continue on with the tattoo than on the first day. She remembered the pain, and wasn't exactly excited to feel it again.

  "You look ready to go." Sawyer's gaze slid to her athletic attire. "It seems you are more prepared today." She still hadn't been dressed the part when she'd arrived at the second session two weeks ago, which had earned her a little lecture. So she'd made sure to do as she was instructed for this one.

  Rebecca nodded her head. "Trying to be more comfortable. Not exactly the most flattering look."

  "I like it." His admiring gaze lingered on her legs.

  "Thank you."

  He smiled and waited expectantly. It only took Rebecca an instant to realize he was waiting for her to stand up and lead the way.

  She started to rise when his hand reached out for her. He pulled her up so she was standing right in front of him. Her heart picked up speed. The delicious fragrance of his male scent enveloped her and Rebecca drank it in, drowning in unfamiliar sensations. What the hell was going on with her? Was this just nerves? She needed to get herself together.

  She took a big step away from him and forced a bright smile. She headed toward the back room, her heart racing, her brain pure mush.

  "I'm ready," she said. "A little nervous, but ready."

  "Are you all healed up?" he asked, following her into the back room.

  "I am, it wasn't too bad. A little bit of scabbing, but not as much as the first session."

  "Yeah, but once we do the color, it will scab up pretty good. It's important to keep the tattoo moist and not let it dry out."

  She reached the back room and just stood there. "Should I take my shirt off and sit like last time?" She shifted from one foot to the other, anxious to not have to look at him anymore. He seemed different today. More familiar, in a way. He was wearing a simple black shirt, jeans and sneakers. His dark hair curled upwards at the ends and wrapped around his face. His casual appearance had such a draw. She suddenly wanted to examine and study all of his tattoos and see what they were. At a glance, all she saw was a swirl of color and design.

  "Make yourself comfortable."

  He sat down in his chair, got his tattoo machine ready and started pouring the colored ink in little containers. Rebecca removed her shirt but kept her bra on, as she had before. She positioned herself on the chair, taking a deep breath to calm her raging nerves.

  "Did you tell Caine I said hi? Last time you were here, you said Neely and Caine were out of town," he said as he turned on his machine, dipped the tip into the ink, and moved into position to begin.

  "I told his wife. I haven't seen Caine. I told Neely that I was going to tell Caine to spank her for sending me to a spanko for a tattoo." Oh god, why did I say that? She glanced over her shoulder to see if she'd insulted him.

  He chuckled. "Oh, really?" He put his fingertips to her cheek and pushed her head forward. "That's not a very nice thing to do to your friend."

  She released a nervous giggle. "Well, it's not like he really would or anything."

  "Oh yes, he would. He has to. It's the DD law. Don't you know the Domestic Discipline list of conduct rules? If someone requests that a spanking be given, then rule number twenty-one clearly states that a spanking must be delivered with a paddle, panties down, bent over the bed. It's the rule." He continued giving the tattoo as if he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. "In fact, if I remember correctly, the dictate clearly says that sixty swats must be given. You really are going to make Neely pay for this one."

  "What? You are kidding, right?"

  "I'm sure it will pain Caine to do it. But the Domestic Discipline doctrine cannot be broken."

  Rebecca turned her head to look at Sawyer in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? There isn't some doctrine somewhere?" Was this for real? She couldn't read his face.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "I feel sorry for Neely." He stopped tattooing and winked at her. "Or more sorry for her ass. And then, after Caine whips Neely, he has to sacrifice a goat." He gave a wicked smile and chuckled. Once again, he placed his fingertips against her face and positioned it forward.

  "Ha ha, very funny," she replied. "Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if there was some doctrine. Who knows with this whole DD thing."

  "No, there is no doctrine. If anything, there may be list of rules the couple comes up with.
You really don't know anything about DD, do you?"

  "No, why would I?"

  "Because you judge it. I've always believed that if you are going to be so strongly against a belief or a lifestyle, then you should be fully educated about it first. But that's just me."

  "I don't judge it," she snapped, feeling defensive.

  "You do," he countered.

  "Well…" She paused, realizing he might be right. "Maybe I have judged… a little."

  They sat in silence for a while, as if neither knew what to say next, or whether they should even continue this conversation. The only sound was the buzz of the tattoo machine. Rebecca noticed that there wasn't any music playing today, and she sort of missed it. Sawyer began to run the gun over her ribs once more, over and over and over again. She hissed in pain.

  "Sorry," he said. "This spot's a real bitch."

  "You're telling me," she said through clenched teeth. "All my organs are vibrating."

  Rebecca needed to get her mind off of her pain. They weren't even an hour in, and she wasn't going to make it at this rate.

  "So educate me," she blurted. "Educate me on why my friends have chosen to live in a DD relationship." She didn't like being called out the way Sawyer just had, but he had a point. She was judging, and she didn't know much about the lifestyle.

  "I'm not the one to do that. I don't know what makes your friends do what they do."

  "Fine. Then tell me why you believe in it. Give me your viewpoint."

  "It's simple really," he began. "I grew up in a household with a lot of screaming, slamming doors, fists in the walls, cussing, anger, you name it. Dysfunction with a capital 'D'. My brother and I got into our fair share of trouble… my brother more than me. My mom, as much as I loved her, drank a lot, and usually passed out on the couch with a cigarette still in her mouth. My dad was just an asshole, and we will leave it at that." He dabbed the gun in the ink and paused for a moment before continuing. "Anyway, relationships were not something I ever wanted. Hell no was I going to live a life like my parents."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Rebecca offered, right before she hissed in pain. Color hurt!

  "Yeah, well, I was giving Caine a tattoo and, long story short, we somehow got onto the conversation of Domestic Discipline. The idea made sense and I ate that shit up. Any way to be different than what I knew sounded brilliant. At the time I was on course to just repeat history. After the tattoo, I went home and researched the hell out of it. When I had my next session with Caine, I pumped him for every single detail. I guess you could say Caine was my mentor."

  "God help the girls you are with then," Rebecca murmured, half joking. "Caine can be a real hardass."

  "Yeah, well, I can too."

  "So from then on you were in DD relationships?"

  "Yes and no. I had a lot of learning to do. I mostly played around with it, and explored BDSM a bit. To really be in a Domestic Discipline relationship, you have to be committed. Commitment wasn't my strong suit."

  "You've never been in a committed relationship?" she asked.

  "Maybe two. I wasn't good at them, but I sure as hell gave it my all." The buzz of the tattoo gun and his constant chatting almost put Rebecca into a trance. The pain seemed to fade with his voice.

  "I was married once," she confessed. "The difference being that I didn't give it my all. By the time I realized I probably needed to, it was too late." Opening up to Sawyer was so easy. Sort of similar to how you can open up to your hairdresser. "So you feel spanking your girlfriends makes things better?"

  "I do."

  "Why? How?"

  "It's about dynamics. A man wants to feel like a man, and a woman wants to feel like a woman. The roles of DD allow the man to release his alpha tendencies, and the woman is allowed to let her femininity and submissive nature surface. When a couple fights, the roles and dynamics get all muddled up. Everything blends, which causes the eruption. The woman is trying to be alpha. The man feels like it is being stripped from him. The woman doesn't feel loved and protected, and so on and so forth. When you stop all the fighting with the DD dynamic, whether it is via spanking or some other sort of discipline, it allows nature to step in. It's in our make up. It's who we are deep down. Alpha and submissive."

  "I'm alpha," Rebecca threw in.

  "No you aren't. You just feel you have to be alpha to get respect," Sawyer countered. "But if you were given the respect, shown the respect, and truly respected by the man you loved, you wouldn't feel the need to bang your fists on your chest and attempt to be the alpha dog. Wouldn't you rather have someone care, nurture, love, protect, and cherish you in every way?"

  "Well, of course. But I don't see how spanking makes that all happen."

  "Spanking isn't Domestic Discipline. It is just a tool of it. You can't have the man be in control and the leader of the relationship without some sort of tool."

  "So spanking is just used as a way to make the woman submissive?" The conversation they were having truly was fascinating. Rebecca regretted not really sitting down and listening to her friends. It was fair to say that Sawyer was right. She had been judging.

  "Yes, and it does. If it's done correctly, that is."

  "But it just sounds like the woman has to be weak. Why would she allow someone else to lead her?"

  "Actually, it is quite the opposite. Women in DD relationships are extremely strong. It takes more strength than you know to give up the constant fight. They are handing the alpha role over to the man they love and trust on their own terms, rather than having him try to steal it in a battle of wills. It also takes a lot of wisdom and patience. They can see beyond the whole, 'I am woman hear me roar' thing. They don't have anything to prove. They are comfortable with who they are and what they are without having to fight to be heard. And when they allow themselves to truly be a woman and stop trying to be what they aren't, they are happier, more content, and can allow the love of a man. They realize it isn't a competition anymore." Sawyer stopped tattooing for a minute and let out a laugh.

  "What's so funny?" Rebecca asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

  "Jesus, I sound like I should write a how-to book. Sorry, I just went on a rant."

  She smiled, taking him in, seeing a gentler, wiser side of the man. "No, thank you for doing so. Hearing you explain it… it really is starting to make sense. I can see why my friends choose to practice it." She turned around and he started to tattoo her again. "I think a lot would depend on the man. I can't even imagine my ex-husband leading anything, especially me."

  "Exactly. Not every man is strong enough. And the man who thinks he is all alpha and pounds his chest isn't right, either. It takes patience, control, sensitivity, and a whole lot of putting the female first."

  Rebecca huffed. "Isn't that what every woman wants? To be put first?"

  "Yeah, and if you look at the DD relationships you know, wouldn't you say the men dote on their women? Aren't they loving, protective and would die for them?"

  Rebecca nodded. She had to admit he was right on that count. Neely, Coley and even Kendall were cherished. There was not a thing their men wouldn't do for them. It was obvious in every action. Those ladies were their men's number one priority, and love exuded from their husbands' alpha bodies.

  "Listen, I'm not saying DD doesn't have its flaws," Sawyer said. "But it works for many, and I sure as hell hope it will work for me in the future. Love can be a real bitch. So, in my opinion, anything that can help it along is a good thing."

  He had a point. A very good point. Love was a bitch, and maybe it did need all the help it could get.

  Chapter Six

  "All done for the day. I'm really amazed at how well you sit," Sawyer announced, as he turned off the machine and squirted the paper towel with some astringent.

  "It's easy with you. You talking really helps pass the time. I really learned things today. Sort of opened my eyes."

  The cool wetness of the paper towel felt heavenly against her inflamed skin. She couldn't help b
ut release a small moan as he caressed her back gently, wiping away the ink and blood. He handed her her shirt and stood to assist her with it.

  "Don't wear your bra this time," he said as he helped her sit up.

  As soon as she sat fully up, her ears began to ring and the room seemed to fade into shadows. "Uh oh, I feel like I'm going to faint." Her words sounded distant to her.

  Sawyer quickly grabbed a bottle of water from his workstation and handed it to her. "Here, drink this."

  She did so quickly, not sure if she was going to remain conscious or not.

  "Where's your snack? Granola bar?" he asked, as he made a lunge for her purse.

  She shook her head, regretting her decisions. "I didn't bring anything. I haven't eaten all day." And, with those final words, the darkness won.

  * * * * *

  Rebecca woke up to find a cold rag placed against her forehead. She appeared to be lying down on the black leather couch in the lobby, and Sawyer was looming over her with concern in his eyes. She tried to sit up and take in her surroundings better. The reality set in that she had fainted, and she could have died of embarrassment.

  "I'm so sorry, Sawyer. I don't know how that happened." She didn't know how she'd made it to the couch but could only assume that he had carried her.

  "Just sit back and rest. Don't try getting up." He pressed a granola bar—one of his—into her hand. "Eat this," he commanded.

  He sounded annoyed. Or was it angry? Rebecca wasn't sure.

  "Thank you," she said as she took a small bite, feeling self-conscious of her situation. So much for being a good tattoo client.

  He handed her a water bottle and silently watched as she drank some and finished off the bar. It did seem to help, but her body felt weak and her head heavy.

  "I told you to eat today. I also told you to pack a snack," Sawyer began to lecture. "I warned you that this was going to be a long session. You sat in one spot for hours."

  "I know. Clearly I should have taken your advice." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.