Consultant

This chapter is probably going to be frustrating for some readers. I can only say I felt it was the logical progression of their characters.

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Dakota

Dakota was really tempted to go into the bathroom and just force herself to throw up so the urge to do it might calm down. Lord knew she'd met enough women in the business who'd taught her how.

She, along with some help from Monique, had convinced everyone she should go pick up Samira when she got there. Monique had privately suggested it because it was a good first test; if she (or Sam, Monique insisted, but Dakota couldn't imagine it) couldn't handle being together again and wouldn't be able to work, Dakota could pull the plug before it got too awkward. Samira could just spend the time in Paris or jump back on a plane and go...wherever.

Like she had some sort of sixth sense, her head snapped around and locked on her.

Sam's face was fully visible because of course she had her hair back in a bun. She wore a long dress that hugged her body. Dakota could make out the contours of her toned stomach and the hollow where her navel was. Her well-developed legs pulled the stretchy fabric tight with each step. She must have had some sort of cover on her breasts or her nipples would have been making dents in the fabric, but she couldn't see the outline of a bra.

Unless she has those nipples that pull in. Holy shit, I never actually saw her breasts.

She was of course wearing high heels, and as she moved the crowd parted around her. Some stepped back to gawk, but for others it just seemed to be an instinctive thing where they gave way to her without even realizing it.

She was so focused on Samira she didn't notice the other woman until they were almost in front of her. She was shorter, around Dakota's own height, and had her hair gathered behind her. She seemed fit but mostly average as far as body type. She did have a nice smile and pretty eyes though.

She also, to Dakota's dismay, seemed to be doting on Sam. Following her lead. Almost like...

Samira stopped in front of her, and it was only then Dakota realized she never called out or even waved to them. She expected to see a stern, annoyed, or even angry expression on Sam's face.

She looked...nervous.

Samira was nervous.

"Hi," Dakota said.

"Hi," Samira replied.

There was an awkward pause.

"Do we need to get a cab or a rideshare?" the other girl asked in good English with a Middle Eastern accent.

"Um...yeah, sorry," Dakota said, trying to pull out her phone.

"I will handle that," the girl said, "You two need to talk. Or maybe find a bathroom stall?"

Dakota gaped at the girl and she saw Samira level a glare at her that would have had Dakota bracing for a whip. The other girl just smirked and walked off.

"So...after that I'm guessing she's not...?"

"No," Samira said, "No, she's not. But at the moment it's very tempting to string her up and take a flogger to her."

Dakota swallowed and asked, "So...if she's..."

Samira saved her from trying to finish the question. "Mira. Her name's Mira, she's my executive assistant. I may have...I may have told her about us. Like I'm guessing you told this Monique?"

"Yeah," Dakota admitted, "I was...I was trying to explain to my costar why a dom would be into everything and it just...everything hit me. Monique's our intimacy coordinator. She thought Danny was pushing me or harassing me."

"Is he?" Samira asked, and Dakota could hear the dangerous note.

"No, Danny's a sweetheart, that's the problem. He tries to be a dom and it's...I literally have to keep from giggling sometimes."

Dakota paused and looked up into Samira's face. "I guess...when you've been with the best it's hard to take poseurs seriously," she said.

Samira looked away so quickly it surprised Dakota. "I'm hardly the best P-Dakota."

"If we're alone...I don't mind if you call me Princess," Dakota said in a near-whisper.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Samira asked.

"I don't know," Dakota admitted, "But I know it...feels right. You calling me Dakota just seems wrong."

"I made you think that," Samira said guiltily.

"I know you think you did," Dakota said, "I don't. Maybe I wouldn't because of what you think you did. I just...I know I miss it."

"There are other people in the lifestyle. Thousands, maybe millions," Samira said.

"I don't miss being a slave. I miss being

your

slave," Dakota said.

"I...I'm not going to have any more slaves," Samira said.

"So...you're not...with anyone?"

"I sold the house and everything in it," Samira said, "I had to have Mira buy me a bullwhip and rush deliver it just for this."

"Oh," Dakota said, "So I know Mira's not your sub, then, but..."

"She constantly flirts with me. She's blatantly told me she would like to share my bed. I don't think it would be a good idea," Samira explained.

"So will you be okay with this...consultation?"

"Are you going to be okay with me using you as a demonstration piece?" Samira asked her.

"What would you say if I told you I'll probably be more okay than is good for either of us?" Dakota said.

"I'd say you won't be the only one."

Interlude: Monique

Monique tried to temper her expectations about this Samira woman. The way Dakota had talked about her painted her as an avatar of sexual and violent power, with men and women bowing before her to avoid her wrath. She assumed there was a bit of hyperbole there from a mix of nostalgia and awe because of their relationship.

Then the woman arrived on set and Monique had to mentally backtrack.

She had worked with many powerful people. Some people were just gorgeous or intimidating because of their physique. Others demanded respect and deference because of their public titles, like rulers or commanders. Then there were others where they had an effect on the room, but you couldn't figure out why. In her own language, it was the "je ne sais quoi", a phrase that English had also hijacked for its own use.

This Samira had a presence. You couldn't not notice her. You had to at least acknowledge that she was there and decide what your reaction would be. If she focused on you, you immediately felt like you were being weighed and measured. If she were actually in the movie, Monique's entire job would focus on her, and determining how people were coping with her.

Monique's gaze flicked to Dakota. She seemed uneasy but it wasn't because she was uncomfortable with Samira. She was leading Samira in, but she kept glancing back nervously. It was like..

Like she doesn't feel she should be in the lead, of course,

Monique thought.

There was another Middle Eastern woman with them about as tall as Dakota but largely forgettable. Dakota had texted and mentioned she was Samira's assistant.

She, Regis, and a few others had met and agreed there should be even fewer people on set for the consultation. It was only the two of them, Danny, the writer Teri, Dakota, and one camera crew. They were on the house set, in the living room.

Samira had approached Regis first and the man gushed over meeting her. Monique didn't know Regis knew who the woman was. He seemed star-struck, which was new.

She shook Monique's hand with a grip that shocked her; it felt like Samira could have crushed it. "We spoke on the phone, I believe. I'm Samira."

"Monique."

"I wanted to thank you. For the invite. And for supporting...Daktota," Samira said.

Monique noticed the pause. Samira had been about to use another name.

"Of course," Monique said.

Then her eyebrows raised when Sam stepped over to Teri. The woman cowered in front of Samira. Samira immediately stepped well into Teri's personal space and gripped her chin.

"Hello sweetie," Samira said quietly, "You belong to someone, don't you?"

Monique almost stepped over to interrupt, but a quick glare from Sam stopped her cold. When Sam looked back, Monique thought Teri gave a small nod. She couldn't tell if the woman was scared or amazed.

Then Samira bent down and whispered something in her ear. The woman literally shuddered and then Samira stepped away to introduce herself to the camera crew. Monique went over to Teri.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just...I really really want to go home to my husband right now," Teri said, and Monique saw her wipe sweat from her brow.

Her greeting to Danny was more involved. She shook his hand, then stood back and blatantly gave him a once over. Danny bore it but seemed a little annoyed. The assessment went on for a couple of minutes.

"Do me a favor," Samira finally said, "Do not ever try to do this to someone in real life."

"You're saying I'm not a dominant," Danny said.

"No, you are not," Samira agreed, "But I will try to help you fake it for the movie. May I see them run one of the scenes?"

Regis nodded, but then Monique balked when she saw Dakota undressing. "You don't have to do that," she told her.

"I do," Dakota said to her with an odd look, "But really, what does it matter? Everyone except Mira there has seen it all. And will again. Mira, right?"

"Yes," the girl said hesitantly as she moved up next to Monique.

"Are you going to be uncomfortable if I'm walking around naked?"

"Are you going to be upset if I keep the images in my head forever?" Mira replied with a bit of a teasing voice.

Dakota laughed. "See? We're good," she said, and then stripped off her top.

Monique heard Mira suck in a breath and then say something in her own language. "She's a beautiful girl," Monique said quietly.

"How...I'm seriously questioning Miss Nazari's taste now," Mira said.

"There's more to a relationship than sex," Monique said, "especially theirs."

"There is an understatement," Mira said.

Dakota walked onto the set. It was only then Monique noticed she wore the garter and stocking set from the other day. Her eyes darted to Samira.

As soon as Samira saw Dakota, she went stiff. It took her maybe a full minute to recover, and then her eyes narrowed at Dakota as she took her place.

Samira stood next to Regis. He called "action", and the one camera rolled, even though this wouldn't be used for the movie.

The scene was a punishment scene that then transitioned to sex. It was, in fact, the infamous one where Dakota would actually be fellating Danny, at least if everything stayed the way Regis wanted. Monique was still unsure, though now her hesitancy was more because of Danny than Dakota. Dakota's attitude about it was that it would be harmless, if very naughty, fun.

First Danny ordered Dakota, as Kitty, to bend over and grab her ankles, putting her ass fully on display and vulnerable. Then he took what was called a flogger, a handle with a bunch of straps on it, and would smack Dakota's ass several times. After that, he would order her to go down on him, and then have her pose on the couch for actual sex.

They got as far as the end of the punishment when Regis called 'cut'. Samira started in on Danny immediately.

"You are the dominant. You do not ask, you do not persuade. Every time you give an order, you don't just expect it will be followed, you

know

it will be followed."

"Is this where you tell me it's a state of mind?" Danny asked.

"No, because it's not. It's something you simply are. Just like the slave just is what they are. People fit into the roles, they don't play them."

"I don't think I get it," Danny said.

"I know, that's fine. Watch. Princess! Presentation One!"

Samira had been a strong speaker the entire time. When she gave her command, it was like someone fired a gun. Everyone noticed.

And Dakota immediately dropped where she was, legs spread, hands behind her head. Samira hadn't even turned.

"Mira, whip!"

Mira moved immediately and Monique wasn't even sure the woman was aware of it at first. She handed an intimidating looking whip to Samira, then scurried back to Monique.

"Holy fuck," Mira said.

Monique looked at her in surprise. "You're not-"

"No. Fuck no. But I'll tell you, I am damn glad I had that whip with me when she asked," Mira said.

Samira grabbed a candle from the set and walked over to Dakota. "Open, Princess," she said.

Dakota opened her mouth and let Samira put the candle in it, then had her tilt her head back. The candle was in her mouth pointing almost straight up. Samira walked away, then turned to face Dakota.

Half the people realized what was about to happen and started shouting. Everyone else made a sound after the whip cracked. The top piece of the candle went flying off into the set. Before anyone could recover from that, there was another crack and the next segment flew off.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Danny said, reaching for Samira's whip hand. She caught his before he connected.

"Proving a point," Samira said.

"What the hell is this proving?" Danny asked.

"For that whole demonstration to work, Prin-...Dakota had to stay perfectly still. She moves one way, I miss the candle. She moves a different way and she needs her chin stitched. You note I didn't ask if she was ready. I simply knew she would be. Just like Dakota knew that I wouldn't hit her. That is the basic foundation of the master/slave setup. The master knows the slave will follow orders. The slave knows they will be taken care of as long as they follow those orders."

"Think of your lines," Samira continued, "You ask if Kitty is ready to receive her punishment. That is not a question. That is a warning. You are informing her that it will start. You are not giving her a chance to object or plead her case. You are informing her of what's going to happen. If you're uncertain with a slave, they start to doubt you can hold up your end. They trust you and rely on you for nearly

everything

. If you are uncertain about your position and control? They become uncertain about their ability to live."

"I'm...just...I'm sorry I just have a really hard time understanding why anyone does this? I mean...fuck if this was real I'd be

hurting

her!" Danny said.

There was a tense pause. Monique thought they'd hit an impasse, of sorts. She knew Danny's predicament; he was having serious trouble understanding his character's motivation. The entire conflict in the film centered around his character's need to reconcile their body dysmorphia and their BDSM lifestyle. From Danny's perspective, there was no conflict; get rid of the dom play and just live their life.

But she apparently didn't give Samira enough credit.

"Do you want a real demonstration, of why this is worth it? Why a dom would cling desperately to this?" Samira asked. Monique noticed she wasn't only addressing Danny, but Danny nodded.

Samira looked at everyone on the set. "You're about to witness a true BDSM scene. It will be extreme. It can be disturbing. If you think you will be bothered, please leave. Not you," she said, putting her hand on Danny's chest, "You need to see this. Director, you remain as well. Everyone else, you can stay or leave, but if you stay you

do not

interrupt me or my slave."

As she was talking about in her speech to Danny, the last part clearly wasn't a request. It was a warning. There was another minute or so of silence while she stared down everyone in the room. She walked over to Mira and Monique and took a small handbag from Mira. She also looked at Monique.

"This will probably bother you. Promise me you will be open minded," Samira said.

"This is my job," Monique replied. But the demand scared her.

Then Samira walked over to Dakota and took the candle. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment.

"How much do you think they just said to each other?" Mira said barely above a whisper.

"Probably an entire book," Monique said.

"Princess! Kneel on the couch. Face the back, hands on the top, legs spread," Samira said.

"Yes Mistress Samira," Dakota replied, then got into position. Her knees were on the cushions, her hands on the back of the couch, her ass facing the room.

"Oh my-" Monique started to say, then Samira's arm uncurled and the whip with it.

The crack seemed to echo even louder and Dakota cried out. Everyone on the set gasped, winced, or cursed as a bright red line appeared on Dakota's ass cheeks.

A second strike cracked out across the set, and then a third. On the third hit, Dakota let out a sound that resembled a howl.

Monique felt pain in her hand and realized she was digging her nails into her palm. Then another hand took hers. She looked over and saw Mira groping blindly at her closed fist. They clasped hands and nearly crushed each other's fingers, but neither of them took their eyes off the scene.

They saw Samira move forward, coating her hand in some sort of lotion she got from a bottle in the bag. When she reached Dakota, her hand rubbed and caressed the red-lined flesh of her backside.

Dakota started talking, Monique thought, but she couldn't be sure. Samira fixed that for her.

"Louder Princess," she demanded.

"Please. Please don't stop Mistress Samira," Dakota said. Her voice was uncontrolled, naked begging.

"I'll keep going if you can show everyone it's worth it, Princess," Samira said, "Are you going to do that for me?"

"Yes Mistress Samira," Dakota said.

The entire time Samira had used one hand to massage the lotion into Dakota's ass. The skin glistened in the stage lights. Then like a serpent strike, Samira's hand snaked out and grabbed the flogger. She brought it down on Dakota's ass.

"Yes. Yes! Yes! Mistress Samira, please!"

Then Samira swung the flogger up between Dakota's legs.

"FUUUUUUCCCCCK!" Dakota wailed out as her whole body began quaking violently.

Mira muttered something in her language.

"What?" Monique asked.

"Look at her! She's...she just climaxed."

Monique looked, really looked, and then gasped.

The pink nipples at the tips of Dakota's magnificent breasts were pointed. Her body shook, but the lights on the set meant it was anything but cold. Her breathing was ragged and deep. Her pale skin was flushed.

And her thighs glistened in the lights.

Samira had resumed rubbing her hand over Dakota's ass. It was mostly pink, with the bright red stripes from the whip standing out brighter than the rest.

Monique looked around at the rest of the people watching. Regis looked shocked, but hungry; he may not have fully understood what was going on, but he recognized the extreme emotion and was eager to get it on film. Danny looked dumbfounded, and Monique knew she'd have to work more with him so he could process what he'd seen. Then she looked over at Teri. The woman had tears in her eyes and a hand over her mouth. But her expression wasn't one of sympathy.

She had a yearning look. Like someone who was hungry, watching another eat a gourmet meal.

Monique looked over at the woman still holding her hand. "Bet you're never going to have a report late for her again," Monique tried to joke.

"No, I imagine not," Mira said. Monique waited, because it seemed like the woman had more to say. Mira suddenly looked over at Monique like she was coming out of a trance and pulled her to the side, slightly farther away from everyone.

"You are close with Dakota, the girl?" Mira asked, "She trusts you?"

"I...I believe so, yes," Monique said.

"Good. We will fix this," Mira said.

"Fix what?" Monique asked.

"Them," Mira said, gesturing to the two women. Samira had Dakota's head gathered to her bosom while Dakota had her arms wrapped tightly around the larger woman. Monique couldn't imagine desperately clinging to someone that had just done that.

Mira apparently had a similar thought. "I...I believed I might work on her. Spend months flirting, breaking down the woman's walls. Then we might be lovers. Maybe more."