Den of Iniquity Ch. 03

"Through discipline."

"Correct, well done."

"But, who maintains the honesty of the punishers? It seems like a dangerous system."

"Well here's the thing. We can loosely divide ourselves into two groups. The dominants and the submissives. And basically we keep an eye on each other."

"So the submissive can reject the dominant."

"Of course! What submissive worth his or her salt would submit to anyone?" asked Chantelle, "only a gutter slut, that's who."

I nodded. Okay, it was all getting a bit clearer. "So the dominant has to prove his or her worth to the submissive before they are accepted..."

"Exactly."

"How would I prove myself, for example?" I blushed.

"Thinking ahead already Roger, I knew I liked you," smiled Claudio.

"Well I was just wondering, I mean I hardly have the first clue what to do."

Chantelle interjected, "It's the quality of the person that attracts the submissive Roger, not necessarily the level of experience. It's my belief that dominants are born, OR made. Either way, they are still dominants. To learn the 'crafts' of the lifestyle takes time, and a quality submissive is unlikely to just jump into your arms overnight. Then again..." Chantelle seemed lost in thought.

"The point is, it is useless to put oneself up as a dominant with experience, when one has none," continued Claudio, "one would be found out within minutes. And nothing good comes of that."

"So it comes back to honesty."

"And a desire to learn, and practice," nodded Chantelle.

"Practice?"

"Yes practice... what turns you on Roger? The whip? Cane? Flogger? Tying a girl up in knots? Treating someone like a baby? A fuck-toy? Berating someone? Spanking them?"

"Um."

"It takes practice. One needs the tools of the trade before one can consider oneself a craftsman."

"I can understand that too."

"So you will need to practice whatever it is you want to do. Organise some of your life around the pursuit of your own gratification."

"I can't believe I've been thinking about the same thing... well kind of..."

"A dominant is a 'doer' Roger. Good dominants make things happen," said Chantelle, "Claudio and I have been in the lifestyle a long time now. We are also successful people. We have successful friends. And one needn't measure success by wealth, but more by the happiness of the person in their given pursuit, and the happiness they experience in their relationships."

"I see." I really did. "So let's say a submissive person comes up and says 'I've been bad, will you punish me?' What would I do?"

"You would seriously question the submissive's credentials," replied Claudio. "A submissive requiring discipline should speak with their dominant about it, confess their sins and be done with their punishment. One coming to you out of the blue is probably a thrill seeker rather than a true submissive. Not to say 'one night stands' don't happen, but they are just as likely to end in failure as a vanilla one night stand."

"Okay, so in a sense a dominant/submissive relationship is much like a vanilla one, normal day to day problems etc., dealt with on an ad hoc basis," they were both nodding, "with basic rules of honesty and integrity working on both sides."

"You got it brother!" smiled Claudio.

Chantelle smiled too, and toasted me, looking into my eyes. She put down her glass and leaned forward on the table, resting her chin on the back of her interlaced fingers.

"So Roger... why would a dominant punish a submissive?"

"Hmmm? Exam time?" I smiled.

"Something like that... play along with me."

"Okay, well, I guess for any number of reasons..."

"Including?"

"Well, dishonesty for a start," I said.

"That's the biggie," encouraged Claudio.

"Hmmmm... for displeasing behaviour?" Chantelle nodded. "Also, I think I remember you saying Chantelle, 'because I can'."

"That's right. There is a power exchange that goes on. The submissive accepts the 'power' of the dominant over him or her, and he or she accepts it fully, so long as he or she continues to believe in the relationship. The dominant accepts the power being given to him or her, and promises to act in a manner that is within the accepted norms of the lifestyle."

"The accepted norms?"

"Yes a little inexact I know Roger, but within the lifestyle the 'accepted norms' are pretty wide. There are those who willingly subject themselves to incredible pain and discomfort for the pleasure of their dominant. And there are those who cannot handle pain and would be punished by other means, such as humiliation or isolation."

"I'm wondering about rules for dominants..."

"There is a general rule in the lifestyle that most would agree with," said Claudio, "and that is, behaviour of dominants should be safe, sane and consensual."

"S. S. C. ," chimed in Chantelle, using her fingers like inverted commas.

"S. S. C. ," I repeated.

"Yes, but given the particular relationship, where the dominant is acting in the submissive's interests, sometimes it isn't as clear as all that. As long as what is happening is understood by the submissive, through honest communication, the sub can continue to assume that whatever happens, it is S.S.C."

"Is a submissive and a slave the same thing?"

Chantelle smiled at Claudio then looked at me, "You are quite perceptive aren't you Roger." I grinned. "No, the slave is somewhat different to the submissive. Basically the 'C' gets dropped."

I sat back in my chair and took a healthy gulp of my Bloody Mary. "Goodness."

Our waiter approached and whispered in Claudio's ear.

"Phone call dear people, I'll be right back."

I went to stand up and Chantelle placed her hand over mine, stilling me.

"Another drink Roger?"

"All right but that's enough for me after that."

"We'll be eating soon anyway," Chantelle replied before turning to our waiter and ordering two more drinks.

"So Roger, how are we doing?"

"It's fascinating."

Chantelle nodded. "It is to the newcomer, to the old hand, it's just life," she winked.

"I'm so thankful, I hope you don't mind all this."

"Not at all silly boy," she grinned, "I am having a wonderful time."

So was I. For the life of me, I'd never enjoyed myself as much as I was at that moment. It was better than the day my Dad gave me the keys to my own car. I threw back the last of my first Bloody Mary as the waiter returned with fresh drinks and Claudio came back and sat down.

"Mothers!" He grinned.

"Wonderful people," I smiled.

"Yes of course," said Claudio, crossing himself and winking at me. "So what rubbish has Chantelle been filling your head with?"

"Good quality stuff in my estimation," I replied.

Claudio nodded. "Current subject?'

"We were waiting for your return, my dear," said Chantelle.

"Well I'm back, so where are we up to?"

"I think Roger has the floor."

"Oh um ok...." I stuttered, "well... I was wondering why? I mean... why does the submissive submit?"

"Good question. Some call it ying and yang," offered Chantelle, "and some call it a natural fit."

"I think the existence of one group requires the existence of the other," said Claudio.

"You've lost me," I replied.

"Take Chantelle and I... both dominant... and both still searching for the perfect submissive for us..."

"This conversation is private, right Roger?" asked Chantelle.

"Yes of course."

"Well," she continued, "finding 'the one' that is right for you, is as problematical as it is in the vanilla world." She sipped her drink. "In any case, finding 'one's true love' is a rare thing indeed."

"I can see that, without necessarily experiencing it."

"Experiencing things is important Roger, and it's ok to make mistakes, just don't leave marks!"

"Ain't that the truth," they high-fived each other over the table.

"But honestly Roger, err on the side of caution, okay?"

"Yes, of course," I understood implicitly, an 'out of control dominant' would soon become an 'out of control defendant'.

"Again, it's likely that only someone outside the lifestyle would consider litigating against another, or be litigated against. It's not unheard of, but that person would forever be judged by it."

"Tarnished," added Claudio.

"One needs a good sense of who they are," I added, "and self control."

"Absolutely! No one in their right mind would punish while angry. It's an important rule I live by," said Chantelle.

"Me too," said Claudio, nodding.

"Self-control is important on both sides," continued Chantelle. "Everyone has their limits and it's the dominant's role to seek and push the submissive's limits, when it is appropriate, or when it suits them."

"Suits the submissive?"

"Suits the dominant, Roger."

"Let's remember two things. The dominant has the 'dominant' role to play. They choose when, where, and how things will happen. This is a given. The submissive's role is to submit, to the dominant, at the time of the dominants choosing. However, and this is a big 'however', it is by the submissive's behaviour that things happen. The submissive has an incredibly important role in how the interaction between the two proceeds. A 'look', 'attitude', 'smile', 'hesitation', 'reluctance', 'denial', 'refusal', 'desire', or even 'eagerness', will affect, as it should, the response of the dominant."

"So the submissive has a certain measure of control," I agreed.

Chantelle smiled. "The submissive decides, by her submission, to whom she or he submits, and how, when and where."

"Not too different to vanilla relationships really," I laughed. I looked at the others and they were nodding at each other.

Claudio smiled broadly at me and put his hand on my arm. "Honestly Roger, it's like a taste of the 'fifties', added to a bit of the feminist 'sixties', shook up in a blender from the "seventies', mixed with the music of the 'eighties', touched up with some of the blatant I-ism of the 'nineties', and now... we throw it all in a hot tub and have a party!"

"Oh Claudio... I'm sure Roger is expecting more than the equivalent to football talk!"

"I like football!"

"Roger, you are not helping!" Chantelle squealed before covering her mouth. The waiter had arrived bringing dishes of the best seafood the establishment possessed, the best wine and, I assumed, the best pasta Claudio's mother had taught him how to make.

Claudio played host, spooning delicacies onto our plates. The conversation lulled as we each tucked into what was before us.

"Oh Roger, you have got to taste the baby octopus."

"I've never had it before."

"Believe me, you'll adore it."

"It's barbecued and then lightly sautéed in onions and the sweet sauce, mmmm... it needs nothing."

We piled garlic prawns, mussels-in-shell, oysters kilpatrick, smoked salmon and miles of various salads onto our plates. It was sumptuous. I didn't notice how much wine I was drinking. Nor did I notice the sun beginning its slow descent into the southwestern sky. Before I knew it, the sky was darkening, and Claudio was ordering a second bottle of port.

"Any plans tonight, Roger?" He asked.

"No, I was just thinking, um, I don't think I'll need to eat this evening... er... I mean, no, I have no plans... jeez, I think I'm getting drunk..."

"Oh c'mon Roger, the night is young!"

Chantelle stood and reached out to me. I took her hand in mine and she pulled me to my feet.

"What are we doing?"

"We're dancing!" Chantelle grinned and took me into her arms. Of course, I stood head and shoulders over her, so she turned her head sideways and pressed her cheek to my chest, and I put my arms around her, and began to sway.

"Chantelle?" I whispered. She looked up at me. "Do public exhibitions ever get out of hand?"

"What do you mean Roger?"

"I mean is anyone really 'punished', up there, on your stage?"

"That's a very good question Roger," she fluttered her eyes and grinned at me, "I don't allow serious punishments up there. True punishment is a private matter, and to further humiliate the submissive by doing it publicly... well, let's just say I find it distasteful."

"So it's all just a bit of fun?"

"In a sense, yes."

I twirled her around on the end of my fingers before bringing her back into my arms.

"Mmmm... and you can dance too..." Chantelle said, her eyes sparkling.

"Why thank you Ma'am," I replied, continuing to sway and gently turn her this way and that. She pressed herself against me and I felt myself beginning to harden.

"Um," I whispered, as she did it again, "what are you doing?"

"Research," she said and winked, placing her hand gently on my cock between us. "You are going to make a fine dominant, Sir," she winked and giggled.

Then she twisted away from me and bowed, to which I replied in kind.

"Thank you for the pleasure of the dance, my fair lady," I said as I rose back to my full height, taking her hand and leading her back to the table.

"The pleasure was all mine, Sir," she replied as she leaned up on tiptoes and kissed my cheek before taking her seat. This time I did indeed guide it under her before retaking my seat between the two of them.

"Well?" Claudio asked.

"He makes the grade," Chantelle replied, tossing her raven hair, with a big grin on her face.

As I blushed, I was hoping they were talking about my dancing...

Author's note: Thanks go out to rachel for her wonderful editing work.

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