Gina watched the students file into Slut Class. Normally, she slipped in with the crowd and sat unobtrusively in the back. She was increasingly aware she was the one girl in the class not on display on the big screen in front of the Student Union, where pictures of the girls topless, and sometimes doing something X-rated, were displayed to the entire student body.
This time she was on display, although not on the screen. Nikki had directed her to arrive ten minutes early and kneel at the front of the room. She wore nothing but a black leather collar, one inch wide, from which dangled an O-ring, and black high-heeled shoes she could barely walk in. Her knees were apart, her hands behind her back, her back arched to accentuate her breasts.
Next to her, also watching the students drift in, was a tall, muscular man in his forties. He wore leather pants and a black T-shirt. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his massive chest, radiating confidence. Occasionally he would correct her posture or her form, and she would do her best to meet his standards. Her legs ached. From time to time he would allow her to close her knees for a few moments, to ease the stress, but then he would order them open again.
The other girls had dressed provocatively, as usual. Tops with deep necklines that hugged their curves were normal, as were short skirts and shorter shorts. There were a few bellies on display, and plenty of cleavage and bare legs.
The original plan had been for Gina to submit to the teacher, Nikki Love, for the class demonstration. But after a few negotiations Gina admitted that while she loved the idea of submission, and Nikki was certainly a gorgeous woman full of confidence, women just didn't do it for her. That was when Nikki introduced her to Carter, the hunky man who stood beside her. They had been talking for the last three days, and Gina knew Carter was an experienced Master. He had a way of getting her to tell him things about herself she had never told anyone before.
Nikki walked in right as the bell tower rang the hour, wearing a vinyl catsuit unzipped to her navel, and heels as high as Gina's, although Nikki walked confidently in them.
"Good afternoon, class. You all are looking lovely today. I'm sure you've noticed that Gina is wearing a rather special outfit today. Today's class is about Dominance and Submission, a topic of particular interest to some of you."
Gina looked at Karen Taylor. Karen wore a bright orange bandeau top, and black short-shorts. Everyone knew Karen had a massive crush on Nikki. Karen called her "ma'am" whenever she could and did whatever Nikki told her to do—even when Nikki had told her to go masturbate in the hall. She had volunteered to be part of this D/s demonstration and had looked daggers at Gina when Nikki selected her instead. Karen, intent on Nikki, ignored her.
"A lot of what we talk about in this class is what we might call egalitarian sex. But all interactions with humans involve some sort of power differential. Men have power. Women have power. Both men and women can feel at an advantage or a disadvantage because of the perceived or actual power of their partners. And differences in class, education, ethnicity, body shape—the list goes on, but each of these things can affect who has more power in a relationship or friendship. You hear guys saying women are 'out of their league'—that's a power differential. When one person can afford to pay for an expensive date, and the other person can't, that's a power differential. So no matter what you are doing, you have to deal with power.
"We put rules in place to deal with some of these power imbalances. Laws against incest. Laws against people over 18, and presumably with more power and experience, having sex with people under 18. Rules against employers dating their employees, or teachers dating their students. And yet a lot of people's fantasies involve these forbidden power imbalances: teacher-student fantasies, or boss-secretary, for instance. Some of these fantasies use the power imbalance, and some of them subvert it—either way, we find them hot.
"The goal of BDSM, and the goal of this class, is to get you to think about the way power is flowing in your sexual interactions and make conscious choices about how you and your partner want it to work, rather than just accepting the power differentials that already exist. Some of you may be turned on by being dominant; some of you may be turned on by being submissive. Many of you may think you are neither, but there's an element of this in everything we do.
"So, show of hands—if you had to choose, dominant or submissive, with no fence sitting, which would you decide. Everyone has to choose one. Dominants?"
A few hands went up. Gina looked around and noted Rachida, Flora, and Veronica. Nikki raised her own hand.
"Submissives?"
Karen, Valerie, Jeni, Abby, and several others raised their hands.
"Stella? A lot of us are a mix of both, but for right now, choose one."
Stella made a face. "I just don't see myself that way."
"Oh," said Flora, "You're totally not submissive."
"Just because I don't do what you say doesn't make me a dominant," Stella shot back.
"That's a really important point," said Nikki. "Some of us feel submissive with some partners, dominant with others."
"And some submissives are brats," Carter said.
Nikki laughed. "Want to define a brat for us? This is Carter Holton, by the way, class. He's been doing BDSM for most of his life."
"Some people enjoy a relationship where the bottom actively needles the top to get him or her to do things," said Carter. "So the bottom isn't very 'submissive'—they are willful and disobedient, which gives the top an excuse to exert his control."
"Is Gina a brat, Carter?"
I'm so not
, thought Gina.
Carter shook his head. "Nope. She's a good girl." He patted her on the head. It was condescending, but she loved it. She wanted to nuzzle her face against his leathers.
I shouldn't feel this way.
Carter wasn't her fantasy man. She'd always had submissive fantasies, but they involved men in suits—business executives, or James Bond. Carter was a firefighter who Nikki knew from the porn industry. Her fantasy was suave and smooth; Carter was rough and scratchy, and a bit scary.
"So," said Stella, "I could say I was a dominant because Flora says I am, but then I'd be submitting, so that would make me a submissive..."
Nikki interrupted. "A good dominant isn't just an aggressive person, or a pushy person, although they may pretend to be. A good dominant wants to dominate someone who wants to be dominated. Some would argue that a dominant is serving the submissive by catering to their needs to submit."
"Those people are wrong," said Carter.
Nikki laughed. "Class, if the question appears on a test, the answer is that those people are at least partly right."
Carter glared at her. Gina looked between the two of them. Nikki had the first kind of power she'd talked about—she was the teacher, so her truth won. Carter's power came entirely because Gina and he had negotiated that for the duration of the class she'd do what he said. They'd discussed her limits, and she'd given him the power to do anything within them.
Not that she expected much to happen. It was class, after all.
"Get up, Gina," Carter said suddenly. "I want to see you walk around the class."
Gina got to her feet, feeling a little wobbly. His arm was immediately behind her waist, supporting her while she got her balance. The kneeling position had been stressful, stretching muscles in a way she wasn't used to. She started walking after a moment, aware that she was far less graceful than Nikki in the heels and finding that vaguely humiliating. Walking around naked and collared amongst her classmates was humiliating anyway. The heels forced her to take it slow.
She wondered if they could see how wet it made her. She could feel it. She didn't think of herself as an exhibitionist, which was why she hadn't agreed to have her picture on the big screen. But being
forced
to display herself was totally hot. Especially if she pretended she didn't have a safe word. "Harmonica" was such a silly word, that it would be humiliating just to say it.
Nikki kept talking while she walked around, but Gina barely paid attention. She'd heard most of it, anyway. There was something about spanking, blah, blah, blah. During office hours she'd gotten a crash course in consensual BDSM, and then she'd learned even more the last three days of talking with Carter. She wasn't thinking about that now. She was thinking about Carter's view. He wanted to watch her walk. Did he enjoy the back view, her hips swaying as she carefully balanced on the heels, her ass bouncing? Or did he prefer it when she was walking back toward him, her face framed by her long dark hair, her breasts jutting forward, the carefully trimmed landing strip of pubic hair pointing the way to her ever moistening slit? He'd told her "around" the class. She could take that to mean around the edges, but she walked up and down the aisles as she weaved her way through the maze of desks. She wanted to impress him, and not cut any corners.
There was a bulge in his trousers. Maybe it was from looking at all the pretty, scantily clad co-eds. Maybe it was the near presence of Nikki. But his eyes were on her, and she liked to think watching her had caused that bulge. She walked back to him, feeling the heat of his gaze.
Nikki was saying something about breaking into pairs to practice negotiating. Gina had been negotiating all damn week, first with Nikki, then with Carter. She'd negotiated for hours. She was so done with negotiating.
Carter pointed down at his feet. She knelt where he pointed and reached for his belt. He cleared his throat and pointed again.
But he's hard, Gina thought. Doesn't he want some relief? But she did as she believed he was directing. She kissed his boots, first one, then the other. Then she started licking them, the blood rushing to her cheeks. What would her classmates think? Nikki preached female empowerment and here she was in the front of class, licking a man's boots. She expected to taste dirt, but there was just the faint taste of leather. His shoes were at least as clean as the plates in the Dining Hall. But only he and she knew that.
For a moment Gina fancied all the chatter behind her was about her, but then she made sense of bits and pieces of it. The girls were practicing negotiating scenes, debating who would be on top, and what sort of things would happen. Maybe they were all so busy they weren't even noticing her. That would be good. So why did that thought make her feel vaguely disappointed?
"Gina." Nikki was suddenly crouching next to her. "Are you wet?"
"Yes," Gina whispered, kneeling up.
"Louder, for the classes benefit."
"Yes!"
"Why? No one has even touched you."
"This, doing this, turns me on. The fact that I don't know what he could do to me next."
"You put lots of things on the menu for him to choose from, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"So much hotter than negotiating for exactly what you want, isn't it?"
