The Original Sinners: The Red Years. Tiffany Reisz

He’s…” Zach didn’t complete the question.

      “Bisexual. Very.”

      “Was it absolutely necessary to tell him that we—”

      “I blew you. You liked it. Get over it,” she said as a naked woman wearing only a tail feather held in place in a way Zach didn’t want to think about sashayed past their table. Nora didn’t even bat an eyelash at her. “Ever heard of John Fiske?”

      “Of course. Chairman of the stock exchange, isn’t he? He’s your friend’s—”

      “Yup, that’s Junior,” she said, inclining her head in Griffin’s direction. “The Fiske family is new money, old money, money money. Griff is New York’s biggest trust fund baby. He drives Søren up the wall. Søren’s very dignified. Griffin…not so much.”

      “So who owns this club?”

      “Kingsley Edge—he’s Søren’s best friend. Best friend when Søren isn’t trying to kill him that is. King runs the place but Søren’s top Dom here so he calls the shots when he’s in attendance. He can order anyone to do anything and they have to do it. Here all the Dominants are ranked by experience and level of dominance. Griffin’s lucky number seven.”

      “Who’s number two?”

      Nora leaned back in her chair, snapped her fingers and pointed at herself.

      “I am.”

      Zach’s eyes widened in shock.

      “You are?”

      “Zach, this isn’t a game, you know. I don’t just write it. I live it. I’m a Domme, a female Dominant. There aren’t a lot of us around. Most Dominants are men. Technically I’m Switch since I can top and bottom, but if I show up on your doorstep, get ready to say ouch. I’m not good at it—I’m amazing at it. So good at it that I’m as famous down here for my skills with a whip as I am in the straight world for my skills with a pen.”

      “My God,” Zach breathed.

      “No need for that. You can just call me ‘ma’am.’” Nora winked at him. Zach looked at her and knew she spoke the truth. He knew she was kinky but he never dreamed before now she was some sort of legend. No wonder she’d scared him from the moment they met—she really was dangerous.

      “Your G&T.” Griffin returned to the table with their drinks. “And your mineral water, mistress. Anything else?”

      “Yes,” Nora said. “Kneel.”

      Griffin knelt again on the floor at Nora’s feet.

      “Zachary, Griffin is demonstrating for us the attendant slave posture. Kneeling, hands resting on knees, thighs—” she said and put a foot on Griffin’s inner thigh and pushed “—wide-open. Very good, slave.”

      “Thank you, mistress.”

      “Slave, please recite for my guest the first rule of S&M here at the 8th Circle.”

      “Hurt, but do not harm, mistress.”

      “And the second rule.”

      “Respect the safe word always, mistress.”

      “And the third rule?”

      Griffin looked at Zach before answering.

      “No vanilla sex allowed…mistress.”

      Nora broke into a wide grin. “Good boy. You are dismissed for the moment. But stay close.”

      Griffin rose to his feet and leaned over.

      “I’ll stay so close you’ll think I’m inside you,” he said in a stage whisper meant for Zach to hear and nipped at Nora’s neck. Zach tried to ignore it.

      “Hurt but do not harm?” Zach asked. “What’s the difference?”

      “Hurt is a bruise on the outside.” Nora sipped her mineral water delicately. “Harm is a bruise on the inside. If you’re a masochist, pain feels like love to you. Not being hurt is what hurts.”

      “Are you a masochist?” Zach asked, fascinated despite himself.

      “Not exactly.” Nora smiled almost shyly. “Not everyone who practices S&M is an actual sadist or masochist, not in the pathological sense anyway. With Søren, I loved submitting to pain. I loved the submission, though, not the pain itself. There are a handful of actual masochists down here, though, if you want to meet one. Fair warning, they can be almost as dangerous to play with as the sadists.”

      “Warning taken. You don’t seem like those people down there.” Zach nodded toward the pit.

      “Those people down there are doctors, lawyers, stockbrokers, politicians, you name it. If I’m not like them it’s only because I don’t have a real job. And I have played in the pit before, I’ll have you know. It’s like Sodom and Gomorrah down there sometimes. Tonight’s Monday so the play’s a little tame.”

      “You say ‘play’ like this is all a game. But people are actually getting hurt down there, Nora.”

      “I have one word for you, my uptight English editor—rugby.”

      Zach winced. Rugby—the sport as rough as American football but without all the padding.

      “A lot of people think we’re crazy, Zach. Some even think we’re evil. But I’m a Switch so I’ve seen both sides of the whip. I know you can’t imagine it, but this is love to a lot of us. When Søren hit me, it was because he loved me, because that’s how we loved each other.”

      “Sounds horrifying.”

      “Horrifying is the last thing Søren is. Dangerous, yes. I’ll give you that. But S&M’s only dangerous if you play with someone you don’t trust or if you forget your safe word.” She stopped, looked up at the ceiling and smiled. He could see something like a memory flash across her eyes. “Trust me, whatever you do, Zach, don’t forget your safe word.”

      “What’s a safe word?”

      “A safe word’s your last out. That’s the dark secret of S&M—the submissives actually have the final say. And your safe word can be anything—popcorn, barn owl—whatever as long as it’s not a word you’d use in a scene. If you need to tell the person topping you that you have to stop completely, you end it by using that word.”

      “You can’t just say ‘stop’?”

      “A lot of submissives enjoy feeling overpowered and truly dominated. God knows I did. ‘Stop’ doesn’t mean ‘stop’ in S&M. It’s just part of the scene. You should have a safe word down here. Everyone does. Except Søren, of course.”

      “Why is he exempt?”

      Nora smirked and rolled her eyes.

      “Because Søren doesn’t get topped. Go ahead. You can pick anything—the street you grew up on, your favorite food, the middle name of the long-lost love of your life. Got one?”

      “Sure, fine,” Zach said, picking the first word that came to mind. “Calais.”

      “The city in France?”

      “Oui.”

      “Bien. I’ll remember it. If I start to push you hard enough you need to really get out, just say that and everything will stop. Saying ‘no, Nora, I don’t think that’s such a grand idea’ doesn’t always work on me.”

      “I’ve noticed.” Zach took a sip of his drink. “So my writer is the most famous Domme in New York.”

      Nora grinned. “Zach, I’m the most famous Domme—” she began and then closed her mouth. Her ears seemed to perk up. She tilted her head sideways.

      “Do you hear that?” she asked.

      Zach