I see her consent before she turns back to face the music of the dungeon, eyes closed and chin dropping down. Listening. There’s no fear in her—just spit and fire and curiosity and the wild generosity that’s always flowed from the deepest part of her.

My job tonight is to let her stretch to the healthy edge of that and no further. Even if it means letting her walk away.

I take a fast, experienced read of the lounge. Harlan gave me a quick download on the action and not much has changed. There are half a dozen major scenes in progress and some minor ones—new pairs feeling each other out or more experienced players showing greener ones some of the ropes. Literally, in some cases—it looks like Matteo is doing a demo of his Japanese bondage skills.

That might be an interesting one to watch, but it will be a while before he has his sub trussed up.

I can see Ari helping Tamelia, one of the club’s veteran Dommes, set up a hasty scene along the back wall. Tamelia casts a quick look at the woman at my side, scanning her body language. Most would read Chloe’s current posture as classic newbie sub, but I can see that Tamelia doesn’t. Which nicely supports my instincts—and makes my heart hurt.

I steer Chloe toward the back corner. Tamelia isn’t ready for us yet, and I’m not ready for her. Tank and Eva have a basic bondage and spanking scene going on in the corner, and Eva’s hamming it up enough to have drawn in a sizable audience. Tank isn’t sure enough of his skills yet to have put them on display in the middle of the room, so his exhibitionist sub is pulling the audience to her. Which her Dom is rapidly figuring out, given the wry look on his face as we walk over.

I don’t spend much time watching the two of them, though. I’m far more interested in the reaction of the woman tucked in to my side. Her eyes aren’t on the floor anymore. Chloe’s scanning the action, taking in the watchers and the hulking guy wearing a gray shirt that doesn’t hide a single one of his muscles. She looks at Eva last, right as Tank’s hand lands on his sub’s ass and she howls like he just split her in two.

I catch Chloe in mid-takeoff to launch herself between them. “Get past your first impressions, shorty. Really look.”

Tank swings at Eva’s ass again, and she howls—much to the amusement of the audience, because he stops his hand just before it connects. He growls, and she has the wisdom to look abashed. “Do that again and I’ll give you something to scream about.”

Chloe winces beside me. I hold my breath, willing her to see beyond the army-sergeant language to the layers beneath. To Eva’s need for drama and noise that doesn’t cause any damage. To Tank’s growing certainty that his big hands haven’t actually done a woman he deeply cares about any harm. To the high-voltage trust running between them like a living thing. All dressed up in the language of a big guy about to beat the crap out of a tiny woman while she’s tied down and utterly defenseless.

Tank swings again, connecting this time. Eva squeals, with slightly more decorum, and Chloe winces.

I breathe, waiting. Sometimes a sub needs some help seeing the beauty under the violence. Sometimes she can’t see it at all. And sometimes, in moments I’ve always been proud to be a part of, she can find the way herself. I keep Chloe tucked in tight to my side, saying with my body what I haven’t yet said with my words.

Two more heartbeats and then I hear it. The soft whoosh of breath as something catches Chloe’s attention. My ears tune in to the quiet music of her dawning curiosity. To the slow shifting of her weight off the balls of her feet. To her shoulders, letting go of her ears, and breathing that no longer moves in time to the beat of Tank’s hand.

She’s not just seeing the layers. She’s been caught by one.

I try to follow my sub’s line of sight, because I can’t actually tell what has her intrigued. Ari catches my eye from behind Tank and wraps her fingers around her own wrist.

Bondage.

I take note of Tank’s really basic tie-downs and lean over to my sub. “Tell me what you see.”

“He’s hurting her.”

“She wants him to.”

A long, shaky breath. “I think she does.”

I can hear two things in that breath. She’s definitely seeing some of the layers—and she has no desire at all to trade her ass for Eva’s.

I ignore the sad shrinking of the hope in my heart. Impact play is a common kink, especially in a dungeon, but it’s not the only one. We’ll keep walking. Keep watching. And I’ll give her another look or two at hard surfaces meeting bare asses. Sometimes first impressions are wrong.