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Steve hooks up with his ex-girlfriend's younger sister.

"

"Oh thanks," I laughed, happy for the change of topic. "They're my research assistant's, she insisted I wear them tonight. In fact, she helped me buy this dress today at Nordstrom's."

"Well, she has good taste, you're a lucky woman to have her. The dress looks fabulous on you, it accentuates your curves very nicely. And I must say, it shows off your beautiful breasts as well."

"Thank you," I said, blushing once more in response to her compliment.

She said no more, looking right at me, waiting for the answer to the question she had posed a moment ago.

"I guess, if I had to see myself in one role, it would be as the submissive," I told her.

"I'm not surprised," Amber replied.

"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised myself. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh dear, please," she said, as if I should have understood without any explanation. I was very aware that she had used that familiar term "dear" when addressing me, as Cecilia had a number of times. "In my line of work, I have to be very good at reading people's personalities, and categorizing them that way."

"And you can do that so quickly after meeting someone?" I asked.

"Yes, I can," she responded. "And besides," she continued, "that's what Cecilia told me as well."

Once again, I was caught by surprise. "What did she tell you?"

"She said she had you pegged as a submissive from her first conversation with you." She chuckled as she continued, "She's as good as I am at reading people's personalities."

Now I leaned forward toward her. "Wait a minute - I didn't say I was a submissive," I objected to her.

"No, you didn't. But you did admit that between the two roles, you could see yourself more in the submissive one, didn't you?"

I sat back in my chair again, realizing that she was absolutely right - I had said that. "Yes, I did," I said in a somewhat resigned voice.

She must have picked up on my tone, because once again she softened her own a bit. She leaned forward again and patted my knee. "Susan, please don't be upset. There's absolutely nothing wrong with admitting that between those two polar opposites, the submissive is the one you would gravitate toward."

I was very aware of her hand on my knee again, and I was a bit flustered to realize that she thought that I was being judgmental about submissives. "Tha. . . No. . .I. . ." I stammered, trying to formulate a response. "That's not what I meant," I was finally able to get out in a soft voice, looking down.

"That's okay, no worries," she said, patting me again. "I can't tell you how many women I have met who had submissive fantasies, but had such difficulty admitting it to anyone beyond themselves. Those are exactly the kind of women I think I can help the most. Here, I want to show you something." She got up and walked over to a bookcase on one wall, and removed a book. She sat back down on the couch, and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit next to me so I can show you."

I got up and as I started to walk around the table, realized that I was a little unsteady on my feet. I realized the wine was definitely having an effect on me. I sat next to her on the couch, and as I did, she moved over right next to me so that our knees were touching, sending an electric jolt through my body. I saw that the cover of the book was totally blank - no writing, no photographs, nothing.

She opened up the book, placing it across our knees, and began to flip slowly through the pages. It was mostly pictures, with just a little bit of text, and all of the pictures were of women in various submissive poses. There were some who were bound and gagged, some had their limbs shackled, spread-eagled on a bed, and others were blindfolded and sexually servicing other women. Every woman appeared to be different; some were young, some old. They were tall and short, white and black, thin and heavy, but all different. And every submissive was naked.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's a book I use with some of my clients

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