Jazz has opted to play wearing a pair of low-slung jeans, even though I've told him that his choice of dress should be the least of his concerns.

Appearing confident is what is essential, and the way he's walking in a slow circle around Bella – who is of course kneeling in position on the floor –

reminds me more of a half-drunken swagger. Not quite the kind of confidence he'll need, but there's still hope.

He takes his time, letting her stew for a while as he stops behind her and just looks down at where her hands are clasped behind her head. It's obvious to me that, of the two of them, she will be the last to lose her calm, but then she has learned to be remarkably patient over these last months while he can barely kneel for five minutes without fidgeting.

"Get up," he eventually orders. I feel a little proud at how calm and commanding he sounds, even though his fingers still drum against the side of his leg. Bella rises to her feet, then stills again, waiting.

"Hands behind your back, fingers clasped as if you are praying." His directions are clear, and she complies immediately, then jerks once when a flaying rope end hits her thigh accidentally as he starts tying her wrists together. An almost apologetic look appears on his face; he doesn't say anything, but I take a mental note. It's good that he notices. After the scene is over, he can be sorry for it all he wants, but as long as he's playing, he's in change, and the sub has to trust that everything that happens, happens for a reason – and not because the newbie Dom still has problems judging what a few feet of hemp will do if tugged the wrong way.

Once Jazz is done I watch as Bella flexes her fingers, then tugs on the restraints to test them. They seem to hold well, yet aren't too tight. Instead of going right on to the next step, Jazz remains standing behind her, then steps up close enough that her fingers idly brush against his crotch.

Leaning further into her he inhales loudly next to her left ear, then blows on the side of her neck, making her shudder ever so slightly. He grabs her breasts and roughly digs his fingers into her tits for a moment, then lets go just as he steps away. He's giving her a quick taste of what is to come, but deprives her of any further stimulation.

Jazz leaves her standing there and walks over to the toy rack, selecting one of the medium-heavy leather floggers. We've done enough target practice with pillows over the last few days that I'm confident he will do a good job with it. And if not, that will at least wipe the slightly cocky smile off Bella's face that she has been beaming at his back while it has been turned on her.

Before he even raises the flogger to hit her, he walks around her again, letting the leather strands of the toy slide over her ass and thigh, increasing her anticipation. When he is sure that he has her full attention he steps back, grabs the ends of the flogger strands, aims, and lets them fly. His aim isn't perfect, but it's not bad, either, hitting her ass every time without accidentally straying to her thighs or lower back. Bella doesn't react except to curl her fingers upwards, away from where the flogger comes in contact with her skin and to suffer in silence.

He continues like that for a while, the strokes slowly increasing in both speed and force. He is highly focused on the task, missing the way Bella keeps looking at the ceiling instead of at him or herself in the mirrors. At least she does it stealthily, and stops whenever Jazz re-directs his attention to another region of her body. When he puts the flogger down again, her ass and thighs are a nice light shade of red.

Taking her arm in a light but firm grasp, he walks her across the room to the padded bench and pushes her down until she's lying firmly on her back, her ass at the lower edge and her weight on her arms. I'm not sure whether I should tell him to have her sit up and replace the rope with cuffs, but decide against it – I haven't checked the ties, and she should be fine this way for a while. I also trust her to speak up if she starts losing the circulation in her fingers. Another note on my imaginary list.

"Raise your legs and spread them. Let me see your cunt."

Displaying her first real sign of defiance, she only complies after he nudges her thigh, and even after that her body remains tense. When her head lolls to the side I can see her face in the reflection of the mirrored wall, and realize that she's fighting hard to keep her tongue. Jazz doesn't notice –

again – and runs his fingers over the inside of her thighs, then stops briefly to run two fingers up and down her pussy lips.

"Soaking wet already. You really must have liked the flogging," he observes.

Bella's head comes up, a hard move considering the strain it puts on her neck and shoulder muscles, and huffs at him.

"No shit. Did they teach you that in Dom Sunday School?"

Instead of putting her in her place – a hard slap to the pussy might have been a good choice, or sneering into her face to wipe the bratty pout off it an even better one – he grins, then walks off to the supplies cabinet. The moment his back is turned, Bella closes her legs and shimmies around so that she can let them fall somewhat comfortably to the side while she keeps her knees drawn towards her chest.

Jazz is a little perplexed to find her like that, looking innocently up at him with a sweet smile on her face. I can't remember her ever doing that with me. He finally gets the message, but instead of barking at her, he steps between her legs and pries them open, leaning on her thighs with increasing pressure until she grunts. That can't feel good on her hips, but at least it's one way to stress the need for her to keep her position.

"Legs stay open until I tell you to close them, understand?"

I half expect her to shrug, but she keeps on smiling and offers a sweet,

"Yes, Sir," in reply. He smiles back, obviously happy when she complies, and I feel like smacking my forehead.

"Good. Let's see if we can get that cunt of yours dripping for real."

Bella is more amused than anything by his words, but holds her tongue while she watches him turn on the vibrator he took from the cabinet. He runs it over her clit a few times before he pushes it into her pussy, fucking her slowly with it. She relaxes a little, then lets out a few moans a porn star would have been proud of. And if I'm not mistaken, it's suppressed mirth that has her legs shaking a while later.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir, I like it," she replies, laughter now also in her voice. Jazz looks a little irritated, then pushes the vibrator deeper into her.

"That better stay in until I come back."

I half expect her to answer with a succinct, "Or what?", but she leaves it at a meek, if fake smile. At least he doesn't ask for her permission or anything like that. When he returns with the bottle of lube, he pushes one, then two of his fingers into her ass while he keeps the vibrator firmly in her pussy.

Eventually he deems her prepped enough, and after applying lube to the vibrator, slides it slowly into her ass. Bella holds her breath, her body language changing from languid to expectant for a moment, but it soon switches back when all he does with the vibe is make a few, very slow thrusts. I'm all for teasing her, mercilessly even, but right now he's only boring her.

"Let's spice this up a little, shall we?" he says, and this time she doesn't hold back.

"Yes, please, let's."

Jazz frowns, then looks over at me, which draws a long and quite audible sigh from Bella. I only shrug, silently telling him to go on. I feel like my part here is done anyway; the lesson he needs to learn is the one Bella is teaching him right now.

He looks a little unsure as he walks back to the toys, but then straightens and grabs the box of clothespins with more confidence. After pushing the vibrator back into her ass, he starts applying the clothespins to her body –

thighs and breasts mostly, a few more on her labia, but none on her nipples.

The sound of the vibrator hitting the floor makes him whip his head around, then he gloats as she looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to keep that in?"

"No, you didn't. Only that I should keep it in my pussy. You didn't say anything about my ass."

He looks ready to argue but then shakes his head slightly, picking up the toy and leaving it near the door to take with us for proper cleaning when we're done. Instead he gets a medium-sized butt plug, and after lubing it up, shoves it into Bella's ass with enough determination to drive home the message. He even keeps on fucking her with it for half a minute before he leaves it in, then adds another push against the base for emphasis. It's funny to observe how she immediately slips into a more docile state when he acts the part, but I wonder how long that will work. The clothespins won't really hurt her, and he seems a little reluctant as he picks up a long, narrow paddle.

The first two slaps he deals to her soft, inner thighs look promising. The resulting cracking sound is loud and underscores her nearly inaudible pants. But then he accidentally hits one of the clothespins, snapping it clean off her skin. Bella utters a high pitched whine, nothing serious but a sound of clear pain. Jazz immediately checks the slightly red mark on her skin, then strokes her cheek in a soothing motion – and that is definitely not what she wants; only her reaction is one neither of us expects.

Her laughter is rich and deep as it bubbles out of her, rocking her whole body. Several clothespins fall off her thighs when she closes her legs and draws her knees towards her chest again, adding a light hiss to her laughter, but doing nothing to stop it.

And as if that isn't bad enough, he keeps hovering by her head, trying to talk some sense into her. It's then that I decide I have to do something.

"Jazz, got a minute?" I bark, maybe a little too forcefully, but it makes both him and Bella look at me, and shuts her up. She even looks a little guarded as she relaxes again when Jazz walks over to where I'm standing, looking a little like a hurt puppy.

"I'm totally fucking this up, aren't I?" he mutters, thankfully too low for her to hear what he's saying.

I sigh inwardly, then sling one arm over his shoulder and turn us both around so that Bella can't see our faces as I whisper to him.

"Quite frankly, yeah, but that's not a surprise. Your first scene, a sub who loves to yank your chain every chance she gets outside of the playroom, of course that's not an ideal setup. Plus she's never been one to be patient and meek, and it's her first time with a Dom who doesn't know how to mentally pull her under within the first minute."

He nods a few times during my little speech, but doesn't look happy.

"So, what do I do now?"

"First off, stop being the overprotective best friend. In here she's your sub.

Her sole purpose is to please you and to take whatever you deal out. Little accidents happen, like with the rope, but you don't react to them during the scene if it's nothing serious. For all she knows, you could have done it deliberately to test her keeping her position."

He inclines his head. "Good."

"Next, you can't let her talk back. Your whole behavior towards her is too lenient, too playful. She's pushing your boundaries, and you're giving up territory inch by inch, so of course she's going to continue that behavior.

Tell her to cut the crap, and don't offer empty threats. Be stern, and if the need arises, treat any transgressions harshly. She can take it, in fact she's asking for that right now. Manhandle her, be rough, not caring and gentle.

There's plenty of time for that after the scene. You can cuddle up with her and bring her hot chocolate and massage the cramps out of her aching shoulders later, but as long as we're here, you show no mercy."

"I'm not sure I can do that," he admits.

"Because she's a woman?"

"Because she's Bella. Sorry."

I sigh, scratching the back of my head.

"Then you have to keep her from getting the idea that she can push you.

Keep her occupied, give her mind something to work on besides finding the chinks in your armor. Challenge her. Hurt her."

"I'm not sure I can-"

"She's a masochist, you do her a favor every time you slap her a little too hard!" I grunt, probably loud enough for her to hear it, but Jazz's whining is getting on my nerves. Turning away from him I walk over to Bella, forcing my face to remain neutral while I let her see by my gaze how displeased I am with her behavior. Even before I reach her she's cringing a little, and looking somewhat guilty.

I lean over her, my hands propped up left and right of her face, and for a few seconds I just leer down at her. She seems to be trying to sink deeper into the padding of the bench but holds my gaze steadily.

"Do you even know why you're behaving like such a brat today?"

I don't have to growl to make her swallow hard, and she shakes her head almost immediately. I wonder for a moment if she's lying, but she doesn't look like she is. Mostly to give Jazz a good example of how ridiculously he is coddling her I grab her nipples and twist them hard while I pull upwards, my fingers digging deep into the pierced flesh. Bella immediately tries to arch her back in an attempt to lessen the strain, a pained moan leaving her that rises into the higher registers when I squeeze even harder.

"I really don't know, I'm sorry, I just can't help myself! He's not doing anything to me and looks ready to apologize, I can't not rub that in his face!

Please!"

I'm not sure she really knows what she's pleading for – while her face is contorted with pain I don't think she actually wants me to stop – but I figure that's beside the point. Still keeping up the pressure on her nipples, I lean back down and kiss her, stopping her up. Then I move on to her ear, and pretend to kiss her again while I whisper softly to her.

"It's because he shows the dominant behavior of a doormat. Keep pushing if you're willing to handle what you'll get when he snaps."

Then I let go and return to Jazz, smirking at him but doing it so Bella can't see.

"Now she's wet, trust me. She's really getting off on that."

I know that he understands that, but there's a huge difference between being aware of a fact and acting on it. Changing my tone so my voice is a little less belligerent, I give him a few more pointers.

"Get her off the table, remove the remaining pins, and tie her breasts like I showed you last week. Then add more pins, but use the plastic ones on her labia. The bondage will make her tits more sensitive, and adding the pins then will be more intense. Then use the paddle, and get a little creative. Hit her calves, the soles of her feet, the underside of her breasts. After the pins have been on for a while, they will pinch the flesh enough so that hitting them lightly will hurt – play with that. Let time work for you; the longer you draw things out, the more removing the pins will hurt. Slap them off with the paddle, that should make her scream and writhe nicely. If you're up to it, do it while you fuck her, she squeezes so nicely when she's in pain. Tan her ass good if she comes without permission, though. If talking isn't your thing, then don't do it, it's not a role-play scene."

Jazz looks ready to bolt for a moment, but then exhales slowly.

"She's here to please me and take whatever I want her to suffer through."

"Exactly. Now go and give her a wild ride. She deserves it."

I take my place in the back again while Jazz seems to consider his next step, probably a little overwhelmed by my info dump. He shouldn't be, as we've talked about this at length, and all the possible ways the plan could be modified along the way. Then he squares his shoulders and walks back to her, his whole manner changing bit by bit as he comes closer.

There is no hesitating this time when he grabs her arm and hauls her back to her feet. Keeping his hand tightly around her bicep, he pulls the clothespins off her tits and lets them fall to the floor.

"Don't move," he barks, then undoes the knots holding her wrists tied behind her back. I catch a look at her hands while he gets the cuffs. The skin is red but not bad enough to intervene and tell him not to have her lie on them again. He forgoes the breast bondage, but that's his call to make.

Yet instead of just substituting the previous ties, he now cuffs her hands in front of her body, pushes her down on the bench again and brings her arms up to clip the cuffs to a snap hook at the other end of the piece of furniture.

With her ass still at the lower edge, she is forced to stretch her body to resume her previous position.

"Legs open. Don't close them again."

I'm a little proud that he leaves it at a simple command, without adding a pointless threat that might just provoke her to see if he will really act on it if she doesn't obey. She's still hesitant to comply and he lets it slide, but gets the other box of clothespins, the plastic ones. Bella goes still when he starts putting them on her labia first, pinching the puffy, swollen flesh around and between her piercings. He also uses them on her tits, forming neat circles around the edge of each of her aureoles, the last two pins on her nipples make her whimper. Lastly, he adds a few more on her arms, but not on her thighs, which makes me curious.

Once he's done he steps away and admires his work a little, before he picks up the paddle again. Holding it in front of her eyes first, he brushes it almost tenderly over each of her cheeks, then down between her tits until he reaches her pussy. I'm a little surprised when he taps it twice against the pins on her labia, but the shudder she gives in response looks good.

Still standing beside her, he proceeds to slap her spread thighs with the paddle, fast and almost methodically. At first she takes each hit in stride, but before long her legs start to tremble with the strain of fighting her instinct to close them and hide away from the pain.

"Keep them open," he tells her, almost conversationally, never missing a single slap. She doesn't reply - no witty comment nor meek acknowledgement - but compared to before that's an improvement.

By the time he finally stops, her thighs are a uniform red color, and she grunts loudly when he adds a few slaps with his bare hand. None of that should have been really painful, but considering it went on for a few minutes and there was no added pleasure, it has done a good job wearing her down a little. And this time Jazz's expression is evil when he grins down at her.

Still holding the paddle in one hand, he walks up to where her hands are tied. He unzips his jeans and shoves them down his legs, then takes his partially erect cock in his hand and slaps it playfully against her hands.

"Make me hard."

Another simple command, and one that would normally be easy for her to obey, but with the way her arms are already stretched out and the cuffs fixed to the bench, she has a hard time even rotating her wrists, let alone jerking him off. He watches her feeble attempts for a little while, then laughs softly.

"Seems like you need some incentive to do a good job."

Leaning forward, he taps the paddle against the upright clothespins on her breast from the side, slowly increasing the strength with which leather hits plastic. It's not hard enough to knock the pins off but certainly enough to make her feel it, and I hear her gasp when he switches to her other breast.