by Brandi Evans
“Welcome to Reading Your Sub,” Carter began, “deciphering the body language of your submissive. Within the confines of Restrained Fantasies, I’m Master Carter. Outside the club, however, I’m Detective Carter Burkes of the Dallas Police Department. During my career, I’ve trained at Quantico with one of the leading experts on nonverbal communication, and over the next three classes, I’m going to give you a crash course in the science of nonverbal communication, so you can be a safe, as well as a seductive, Dom.” He gave Raven’s hand a squeeze. “This is my very lovely assistant for the evening, Raven Malek. Unless this is your first night at Restrained Fantasies, you’ve probably seen Raven at the club and looking seriously sexy behind the bar—and not participating in scenes. There’s a simple reason for that. Raven isn’t part of the lifestyle, but she’s graciously agreed to help me out tonight. Therefore, outside of this class, you are only to address her as the kickass, capable employee she is. Do I make myself clear?”
A wave of nods filtered through the room. Brock, who was standing in the back corner, arms crossed, grinned.
Carter continued. “Nonverbal communication, put simply, is a way of transmitting information without words. Pretty self-explanatory on the surface, but if we dig deeper, we discover nonverbal communication not only relays what a person’s thinking or feeling at any given moment, it also telegraphs what a person’s about to do. It can show whether a person’s being truthful in their verbal communication. These reasons underline why learning to accurately read your sub is one of the most, if not the most, important thing you can do as a Dom.”
He paused a moment to let his statement sink in. Scanning the room, he checked to see if any disagreement showed on the faces of the newbie Doms—and thank god, he did. Not thankful this would-be Dom thought so little of protecting his partner, but grateful because Carter could turn it into a teachable moment.
Humility and respect were essential characteristics of a Dom. Yes, Doms should be strong, powerful, even a bit sadistic when the situation—or their partner—called for it; what they weren’t, however, were dicks.
“You there,” Carter said, pointing to the kid. “What’s your name?”
The young man’s eyes widened, and he crossed his arms, surprise with a hint of discomfort. “Matt.”
“Tell me, Matt. Why don’t you think it’s important for Doms like us to be able to read our lovely subs?” Carter motioned to Raven. “Why don’t you think it’s important for me to be able to read the lovely woman beside me?”
Carter purposely chose to juxtapose ‘sub’ and ‘woman’, to drive home the point that, just because someone was a sub, they were still human and deserving of rights. He did this for the new Doms and for Raven. He needed her to know he respected her.
“Well, because she’s a sub,” Matt said. “She does this because she wants it.” No malice played in his voice; he was utterly clueless, which Carter could work with.
“You said she wants ‘it’. What all does ‘it’ entail?” Carter asked.
The other man didn’t answer.
“So, all subs are the same? Be they men or women, they want to be spanked, flogged, whipped, publicly humiliated, or something even more extreme?”
As Carter had anticipated, Raven tensed and turned into him, instinctually seeking his protection, even if she didn’t realize the impact of her actions. He responded by wrapping her close. Would anyone else notice what had happened?
Brock chuckled, drawing everyone’s attention. Even laughing, the man was one-part terror and two-parts intimidation.
Carter grabbed onto the other Dom’s reaction and ran with it. “Master Brock, would you mind telling everyone what made you laugh?”
“The second you mention being whipped, she turned into you, as if wanting protection. Spanking she didn’t seem to have a big negative reaction to, flogging she was certainly wary of. But whipping?” Brock shook his head. “Nope, she doesn’t like that at all.”
“Exactly.” Carter turned his attention back to the new Dom. “Being able to read your sub and respond appropriately is the difference between flogging fun between two consenting adults and assault.”
No argument.
No backtalk.
Matt simply nodded.
Carter pushed on. “Did anyone notice what I did in response to Raven’s actions?”
The newbie Doms looked at each other as if they’d find the answer around the room somewhere. And didn’t.
“You comforted her,” Master Steel finally said, arms crossed and towering over his brother, Master Ewan. A former linebacker for the Cowboys, Steel was about as thick as he was tall. He’d gotten his nickname because players said running into him was like being hit by a steel beam. “In distress, she turned to you, and you hugged her to your body.”
Carter nodded. Give it to the most ruthless and feared Dom in the room to see something so gentle and subtle.
“Precisely,” Carter said. “I offered shelter and protection to her. The move was almost instinctual for me at this point, as was what I saw in her countenance. I didn’t need words to know she was upset or to know what she needed from me, and that’s what I’m going to teach you in this class.”
Carter hunched over a bit, index finger to Raven’s chin, and tugged until they were face to face. Her forehead was furrowed, and her jaw was tight.
“You know I’m not really gonna whip you, pet, right?” he whispered, needing to offer further comfort.
She nodded, but her trust didn’t reach her eyes. She was so outside her comfort zone, but he couldn’t exactly stop to coddle her. He had students waiting; he would keep an extra-close watch on her though.
He untangled her arms from his body, kissed the insides of each of her wrists, and turned back to his class. “Well, over sixty percent of all interpersonal communication’s nonverbal, and during sex, it can be close to one hundred percent, especially when you factor in things like ball gags, which is why it’s so crucial for a Dom to be able to read his or her sub. Facial expressions, gestures, kinesics, proxemics, haptics, posture—hell, even clothing—all work together to relay the inner workings of someone’s mind.
“We call a person’s nonverbal behavior a tell because it tells us of a person’s true state of mind, and because people are often not aware of their own tells, nonverbal communication’s often the most honest. We craft our words to fit our narrative, whatever our narrative may be. Your sub may say he or she wants to be flogged, for example, but their expressions might tell an entirely different story. And as their Dom, it’s your responsibility to read between the lines, to push them, to question them, to find out why there’s a discrepancy. Sometimes, it’s as simple as they’re scared and in need of additional reassurance. Sometimes, they’re downright petrified based on years and years of physical or emotional abuse from a bad Dom. So, when you see these discrepancies, dig deeper. It’ll help them become a better sub and make you a better Dom.
“Reading people successfully, regardless of whether it’s your sub or your boss at work, takes constant practice and proper training, and once you’ve got these skills mastered, they become second nature. Also, as you get more adept at the skills, you’ll realize nonverbal communication forms a circular, self-feeding loop with verbal communication. Nonverbal communication gives you baseline truths. Is your sub anxious, scared, uncomfortable? But it won’t give you the why. That’s where verbal conversation comes back. Once you discover your sub’s discomfort, ask them why, all the while watching them for more tells. Are their answers genuine and so-on? Any questions so far?”
He waited for a few moments, and when no one spoke, he turned to Raven. How much longer would it take before he could smooth away the furrowing of her brow?
He gave her a quick wink as he took her hands and tugged her toward the St. Andrew’s Cross.
Speaking to the class, he never took his eyes off her. “Gather around, everyone, while I get my lovely sub into position—and into submission. Then, we’ll get in
to what my instructor at Quantico called the Ten Commandments for observing and decoding nonverbal communications.”
There went her muscles tensing again. Shoulders stiffening, brow furrowing deepening. If she kept this up, she would need a massage later, which he wouldn’t mind helping her out with. Not one bit.
His hands at her waist, Carter positioned Raven in front of the cross. “What’s your safeword, pet?”
Red. The word formed on her lips; her lips moved to create the sounds. Nothing, however, came out.
“Relax, pet. I’ve got you.” He kept the words soft, only for her. “I’ve got you.”
When she didn’t respond, didn’t soften, didn’t push aside the terror painting her expression, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
“What’s your safeword?” His lips grazed hers as he spoke, their breaths mingling.
“Red, Sir.”
Beautiful. Both her acquiescence and the sound of Sir in her throaty voice.
Restraining a sub on the cross was second nature, so he didn’t need to look at the clasps as he locked them into place, which freed him to watch Raven. She was still scared—but determined. The combination was sexy as fuck, and it made him equally as determined as she, even if for different reasons.
Come hell or high water, he would turn Raven’s fear into pleasure.
He trailed his hands along her sides as he dropped to his knees and secured her ankles. As he pushed back to his feet, he drew his fingertips along the inside of her legs, diverting about halfway up her leg to keep his promise of not doing anything which would make her feel compromised. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
She shivered at his near intimate touch, drawing her sexy bottom lip between her teeth. And the softest moan leaked from her mouth.
He went still. Well, lookie there. This wasn’t fear. Not even close. This was pleasure, distinct and clear for him to see, and he rewarded her submission with yet another kiss, harder and longer than any which had come before.
Carter’s kisses were like crack, and Raven couldn’t get enough. For the first time in her life, she could empathize with her mother’s addiction. Well, almost. At least Carter’s kisses wouldn’t ruin her life.
Or would they?
Raven tried not to think of her impending downfall which, granted, was easy with his lips against hers. No crappy mothers. No bindings holding her in place. No impending decision hell-bent on ruining someone’s life. Gone with his incredible lips against hers.
When all her turmoil had nearly melted away, Carter pulled back, his smile too sexy for her own good, and turned to his group. “Commandment One. Nonverbal communication requires practice. Like active listening requires focus on the person speaking, so does this. You can’t catch tells if you’re not actively looking for them, and to do it properly, you must maintain good situational awareness. When you walk into a new situation, create a picture of your surroundings in your mind and commit it to memory. Use all your senses. Think of awareness like a muscle. If you work it, it gets stronger; if you don’t, it atrophies, which leads into Commandment Two. Observation in context is critical…”
Raven hung on Carter’s every word. His passion in his topic transfixed her as much as the dominant way he held himself as he spoke. The shift of muscled shoulders as he gestured with his arms. The pull of the simple cotton tank with each movement. He spoke with conviction and authority. Seeing the cop show through the Dom was an interesting juxtaposition.
Or was the Dom showing through the cop? She’d never realized how intricately the two were linked.
Carter turned back to her, never missing a beat, and stepped to her side. “And now, it’s time for a quick, practical exercise. Focus on my beautiful sub and tell me what you see when I touch her.”
Before she had time to brace herself, Carter trailed the index finger of his right hand along the side of her neck, over the carotid artery. His movements were barely there, but nonetheless, they wrenched a shudder from the deepest parts of her. The shivers worked their way through her, drawing her eyes closed and—
“Her eyes closed, and she turned her head into your hand,” someone said, snapping Raven back to reality with the subtlety of a grand piano dropped in the middle of a library.
“Very good.” Carter dropped his hand and turned back to his class.
The I’m-finished-with-you-for-the-time-being dismissal left her feeling more exposed than if she’d been naked. He’d touched her, made her feel—something and promptly pushed her away. His actions were exactly what he’d told her he’d do; this touch-and-respond-interplay was what he was paying her for. So why did the dismissal feel like such a personal betrayal?
“Her reaction’s a clear invitation,” Carter continued. “I touched her, she liked it, and she invited me to touch her more by further exposing the area she wants me to touch.”
Steel chuckled, a dark sound which made her shiver in all the wrong ways. “She didn’t like that. Whatever that is. She looks like she’d be running for the door if she wasn’t restrained.”
Carter examined her with his gaze that saw everything. “Good catch, Master Steel. She’s certainly upset with me. See the way she’s pressed her lips together, so they almost disappear? This is what’s called lip compression, and it’s a universal non-verbal tell.”
Carter cupped her cheeks, his pinkies stroking either side of her neck, and he pressed a kiss to her temple. The sense of peace he evoked so easily tingled inside her, but she fought it. She didn’t want to be calm. She tried to stay pissed. At him for manipulating her so easily. At herself for falling for said manipulation. She was stronger than this, damn it!
When she didn’t submit, he pushed his hands back and worked his fingers into her hair, cradling her head and kissing one of the spots he’d been stroking on her neck, just over her carotid artery. The effect was practically instantaneous. The second his lips contacted her skin, she felt herself sliding deeper under his spell.
No, no, no.
How did his touch calm and enrage her so thoroughly? Would he cover that in his class too? She needed a means to shield herself from his power.
He pulled back and stared at her. She wanted to run.
Red.
The word played on the tip of her tongue, but she refused to let it out. And not because of the money she stood to lose. As mad, frustrated and confused as she was, she had to admit the truth she wanted so violently to ignore.
She didn’t want him to stop touching her.
The left side of his mouth tipped up. Fucking hell. He knew! He fucking knew what was going on in her mind. He wasn’t good at reading nonverbal behavior; he was fucking telepathic.
He grazed his lips over hers. “My sweet pet,” he murmured, voice so low only she could hear. “It’ll just be us, soon. Hold on a little longer, pet, and I’ll be all yours. And you’ll be mine.”
Like hell she’d be.
He turned back to his audience. “On to Commandment Three. Learn to recognize and decode nonverbal behaviors that are universal. As a species, we have certain nonverbal cues everyone exhibits, regardless of societal environments or dictates. For example, eyes widening in shock, you’ll see the same thing in Manhattan or the untouched tribes of Africa. Now, I’m not going to take the time to go over every one, tonight. We’d be here forever, but I’ve made a list of them on your class handouts.”
He pointed to a table beside the door where a stack of papers sat. “For Commandment Four, we’re gonna move to the flip side of the previous commandment, recognizing and decoding idiosyncratic nonverbal cues. Idiosyncratic cues are relatively unique to each individual. I say relatively because there are some common cues like foot tapping when you’re anxious, but these aren’t universal. Not everyone does it when they’re anxious so, as a Dom, you must study your sub carefully to discern what his or her idiosyncratic cues are and then commit them to memory. Build a knowledge base on which to draw from.”
Carter turned back to R
aven again, and she knew what was coming. She steeled herself, standing straight and tall. She felt too exposed as it was, but judging by his smirk, she wasn’t fooling him in the slightest.
“Notice the way my sub’s biting her lower lip?” Carter said. “What do you think that could mean?”
“She’s being flirtatious,” said a Domme in a red corset.
Carter gave a half-nod. “Could be. But lip biting can also convey nervousness, which seems to fit the context for this sub in this situation. This underscores the importance of Commandments Five, Six, and Seven, which I’m packaging together for the sake of time tonight, but I’ve spelled them out in detail in your handout.” He took a step toward the table. “It’s imperative you establish your sub’s baseline behaviors. How do they normally position their feet? How do they normally hold themselves? And so forth. By knowing someone’s normal, you’ll be able to pinpoint when things suddenly change. Also, be on the lookout for multiple tells occurring in clusters. Think of these individual tells as puzzle pieces: the more you have, the faster you piece them together, the more accurate read you’ll have on your sub.”
Carter grabbed a brown flogger, and Raven practically collapsed in on herself, fighting her restraints with a determination she’d only ever felt once before. Oh shit, the flogger. No, no, no. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t do this. He’d promised her.
Red.
She yanked anew at her restraints, with her hands and feet, but nothing. She wasn’t going anywhere. Trapped. In a room full of—mostly—men who could easily overpower her if—
Hiding the flogger behind his back, Carter cupped her cheek and drew her gaze back to him. He used no words, only his stern, yet gentle expression to relay a single word. Relax. But relaxing was easier said than done, especially with the flogger still so near.
“Master Brock,” Carter said, never breaking eye contact. “Tell the class what you see regarding Raven’s body language.”
Fuck.
No.
Not again.
