James’s heart was beating a fair bit faster than usual. He had always been nervous meeting new people, but new AND kinky people, the thought made his cheeks flush.

James’s friend, Matt, had always shared about his escapades within the local BDSM community: play parties with rooms for different “activities,” classes on how to aesthetically tie someone up with rope, the list went on. James always pretended that he wasn’t interested. He was; the idea of exposing that core part of himself was just too frightening.

Too frightening…perhaps until it was exposed for him. Matt had convinced James to go partying a few weekends prior. Clubbing was not James’s idea of fun. His bookish nature and cozy aesthetic clashed heavily with the grimy atmosphere of a college-town bar. But Matt was persistent, so James gave in. His tactic for enjoying the evening anyway was simple: get drunk enough to shed any anxieties. This tactic worked wonderfully but maybe a bit too well because James forgot the night by the next morning. All that was left as evidence of him being there was Matt’s camera roll and the glimmer of “I know something you don’t” in his friend’s eye.

“Hmm, I think you should come to this month’s BDSM munch. There might be a few people there you would find…interesting.” Matt chuckled to himself as he teased James lightly. Some wicked grin had found its way to Matt’s face ever since the night at the bar.

“Umm..why? I told you I’m not interested in that kind of stuff.” James pushed the thick rim of his glasses up his nose, mostly as a nervous tick.

Matt placed his elbows on the table and leaned in closer to him. His face was in his hands, and he giggled slightly, as if he were a gossiping girl at a slumber party. “Ohhhh but I have a slight hunch that you are into ‘that kind of stuff.’”

James exhaled, deflating as resignation to Matt’s assertions. “Matt, please just tell me what happened that night at the club. It’s clearly related to this. You’ve been teasing me about it for days.”

Matt pulled back from the table and crossed his arms casually, very pleased with himself. “Ok, fine. A couple hours into the night, you were plastered and having fun, and you spotted someone doing a hurricane shot with the bartender, and you were VERY interested.”

James lowered his eyebrows in confusion. “Okay, slow down, what is a hurricane shot?”

“Oh, you pay like thirty bucks, and get a drink which you down, but right after you drink it, the bartender throws water in your face and slaps you.” Matt laughed, but horror struck James’s face as he realized what happened.

“So I bought one of those?” Too embarrassed to look at his friend, James just decided to shield his face behind his slender hands.

“Oh yeah dude! It was awesome! The bartender really smacked this shit out of you. She was super hot too; she had a bunch of tats and a nose ring. But…after you took the slap, you had such a big boner. Everyone could see the outline in your pants haha!”

Mortified, James slumped his head onto the table and hid behind his arms. He groaned as if in pain. “Uuugh, so everyone saw that?”

“Yeah, man. Don’t worry though, now you can stop pretending you’re not a kinky freak like me.” Matt sipped a bit of his drink as James contemplated never showing his face in public again. “And if it makes you feel any better, it’s impressive that you could pitch a tent like that while super drunk.”

“That does not make me feel better.” James looked up and rubbed his temples. “You haven’t told anyone we know, have you?”

“No I haven’t, but you should definitely come to the munch. It’ll be fun, and I’m sure you can find someone who would want to slap you hehe.” James contemplated the possibility and eventually caved. He really did want to explore this side of himself, and there wasn’t really an excuse not to now that the cat was out of the bag.

So here he sat, being driven by Matt to some brewery downtown, heart racing and wondering if he’ll be too nervous to talk to anyone.

Matt tried to calm him down as he drove and headbobbed to his playlist. Matt had always been the calm and collected one in the friendship. Even though they had the same graduate school course load, Matt was always significantly less stressed by deadlines. “It’s suuuper chill. I promise. Everyone there is friendly and normal. You’ll do fine, just get a beer and have fun.”

James looked out the window, the light-brown waves of his hair gleamed in the light of the sunset. “I think I’ll steer clear of drinking for a bit.”

“Oh, as if one IPA is going to get you blackout drunk. It’s a brewery. You get beers at breweries.”

James widened his eyes with a sudden worrying thought and turned to Matt. “Do you think anyone we know will see us there?”

Matt shook his head. “No, certainly not. Everyone we know in this city is too busy reading nerd books to go out on a Tuesday night. Plus, if someone does ask us about the group, we can just say we are a…birdwatching club or something.” James smiled at the humorous notion.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Brewery and parked in the side lot. Though they were undoubtedly one of the first ones there, Matt immediately turned off the car and opened his door to get out. “Okay, we are mildly early, but some of the regulars should already be there, so let’s go.” James replied with a shaky “mhmm” and opened his door to step out too.

The brewery seemed like quite the fun place: food trucks lined the gravel lot in front of the large building which housed a long bar, gathering spaces, and many a pool table. The smell of alcohol filled the air, but not in a way similar to a seedy, dank pub; the wafts were light and fruity on the nose. James had half expected a dark and claustrophobic environment, so he was pleased by the open space and pleasing aromas.

“We reserve a few tables closer to the back. This way.” Matt gestured for James to follow and briskly walked past several groups of people young and old sharing beers and good times. James followed but a bit more hesitantly as he gauged the area and tried to spot which group could be the BDSM munch. To James’s surprise, Matt meandered his way to a few tables in the back occupied by what looked to be very normal people. Perhaps a few of them had more of an “alternative” style, but you could easily confuse this group for any other (maybe even a birdwatching club).

As Matt greeted the younger crowd who James assumed were his friends, James stood a bit farther away, afraid to approach. He never liked to interrupt people in conversation, so he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater and looked around aimlessly.

“Oh and my friend I was telling you about is with me.” Matt gestured for James to come closer so he could introduce him. Matt had a big smile on his face and was clearly excited for his friends to meet, so James resisted the urge to turn away and timidly went up to the table to say hi. At the table were a few people in their twenties and thirties. Two of them looked to be a couple and a very attractive one at that. He was on the taller side with long, pretty hair and his partner foiled him in some ways with her short bob and even shorter stature. They introduced themselves, but James didn’t hear their names and was a bit too shy to ask again. The other two were singles, and this time he managed to get their names. Abby was a taller woman with a very lithe build and flowery dress: an aesthetic that clashed very heavily with James’s vision of people wearing dark leather and lace. The other was a muscular man named Dave who seemed very well put together. James thought he must be a lawyer or something very professional.

“Uh… yeah, hi…I’m James. I’m new. I’m studying economics, just like Matt.” James seemed to hunch into himself with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s nice to meet you! We’ve heard a whole bunch, so I’m sure you’re very cool!” Abby was very energetic and beamed at the chance to meet a new person.

“Oh um… thank you…uh, can I sit here?”

“Of course you can dude.” Matt pulled the chair out for him and slapped him in the back. “Don’t worry guys, he’ll loosen up. He just gets nervous with new people.”

From there, conversation flowed. Though it was a gathering for people into kink, not much sexual talk was had. Instead, people shared stories from the last month, talked about their SFW hobbies, and asked James all about himself. It was comfortable, surprisingly. Matt had curated a good friend group, so James fit right in and felt very welcome.

Eventually, more people trickled in and formed their own tables for conversation. Matt and a few others had drinks, but James still decided to steer clear of any booze just in case. After an hour or so, it seemed James’s nerves were unfounded, so he was able to relax.

That all changed when an additional person arrived and sat at their table.

“Hello, everyone. I apologize for being late.” James looked up over his shoulder and there stood the very striking figure of a woman not much older than him. She had a clear, porcelain-leaning complexion that contrasted sharply with her deep espresso brown hair. Thick and healthy, her coffee-colored locks were cut short into a sophisticated, short taper which was swept back and slightly to the side. An equally dark and well-manicured set of eyebrows sat low on her brow and gave her eyes a naturally piercing gaze. As if to accentuate this even more, her facial structure seemed sculpted to perfection as if by a divine hand. Its stronger jawline and high cheekbones gave her an aura of resolve which James found alluring. One might have called her androgynous, which would be further emphasized by her clothing. She wore a form-fitting, jet-black turtleneck which called attention to the lines of her athletic figure and grey cigarette trousers immaculately creased down the center of each leg. To complete the ensemble, she wore matte black Chelsea boots which she loved more than she would care to admit.

James’s mind stuttered slightly when he saw her, and he began to blush as she sat next to him. After settling herself and exchanging greetings with everyone except James, she turned to him and looked him up and down, as if appraising him, before introducing herself. “I haven’t seen you before. I’m Erin.”

James whipped up the courage to turn and meet her gaze for a split second and noticed she had extended her hand for a shake.

“H-hi, I’m uh…James.” He shook her hand and broke eye contact as his face maintained its blush. Erin’s skin was cool and unnervingly smooth, but he could feel her strength as her fingers closed around his with a steady pressure.

Erin still had her eyes locked on his face even as James turned his gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you James. What brings you to this munch?”

Matt interjected, perhaps to help James not fluster himself into combusting. “He’s a fellow graduate student studying Econ at the University. He gets a bit shy, but I promise James is a really great friend when he comes out of his shell hehe.”

“Oh, an academic…I should have guessed given the glasses and thick sweater.” Erin smiled to herself, revealing a set of perfectly straight and naturally white teeth, though James certainly didn’t notice with his gaze now fixated down at his water. “I tease, but you do fit the Ph.D. Student image better than your athletic-shorts-wearing friend over here.”

Matt raised his arms, feigning offense at the clear joke. “I’m hurt…I put lots of effort into my studious image.” The group laughed and James managed to smile a bit too.

The next thirty minutes were quite different for James than they had been. Though everyone else continued chatting casually, James was suddenly a bit more reserved. Sitting next to someone so impressive made him unable to concentrate on the topics at hand. So he mostly watched. He watched the way people gestured when they talked. He watched how people showed that they were listening. Was this a grounding exercise? Not intentionally so, but he certainly was less anxious. Of course, he enjoyed watching Erin while she talked. She had such a quiet gravity to her presence; James found himself nodding without actually paying attention to what she was saying. He also managed to detect a few things about how she carried herself. One of the most obvious was how upright she sat. Not once did she recline to rest her back on the seat; it would have made no difference to her if she were sitting on a bar stool or a regular chair, her posture would be the same. Quite the interesting habit, but James thought nothing of it other than how attractive it was to him. It made her seem resolved and focused.

Another habit Erin had, however, did capture James’s attention. At one point, she took out a sleek, metal pen so she could illustrate something on a napkin. Erin’s handwriting was as neat as expected, but when she finished drawing, she took the pen and started playing with it in a very interesting way. Instead of holding it how one would normally hold a pen, she had her index finger and thumb poised high on the barrel, her middle finger tucked close towards the tip of the pen, and rested her ring finger on the table almost as a “fulcrum” as she moved the the tip of the pen in repetitive motions. Erin was not focused on what she was doing with her hand, so whatever she was doing must have been second nature to her. And it was. James knew it was because he had seen this grip many times in videos he enjoyed late at night by himself.

To say James had a dental “kink” would be an understatement. James had a dental “fetish.” He had been fixated on the practice for as far back as he could remember. He dressed up as a dentist for Halloween when he was very young. He frequently stole latex gloves from offices when he was a bit older. And he even considered the profession seriously before going to college, but he decided against it. Simply put, he wouldn’t have been able to hide his excitement in that environment everyday. He remembered his last few appointments several years ago and recalled having to focus very hard on not getting erect while the hygienist cleaned his teeth. Every night spent touching himself was accompanied by a video of dental work, so recognizing Erin’s “modified pen grip,” typical of a dental professional, triggered something within him.

James’s cheeks grew red. He hated how fair his skin was because his embarrassment was always obvious. To shield himself from people noticing, James excused himself to go to the bathroom. There, he spent a few minutes composing himself.

“James is very quiet,” Erin remarked to Matt from across the table.

Matt scrunched his brow in confusion. “Yeah, he was chatty earlier, but he’s clammed up a bit in the past hour. I’m sure he’s okay, but I’ll ask him what’s up later.”

Abby turned to talk to Erin and Matt so that they could be included in her conversation with the other three. “Ooh, you two, we were talking, would you want to try the new food truck? It has wood fired pizza and looks super yummy!”

“Sure, but I should wait for James so he doesn’t think we abandoned him.”

Erin, always considerate but also interested in getting some one-on-one time with James, offered to stay behind instead. “Oh, Matt, I can wait for James. I had eaten dinner earlier tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go get your personal pizza.”

Matt smiled widely and scrambled out of his seat, excited for Italian goodness. “Haha, okay, thank you! You’re the best!”

Erin stayed behind and examined the emails which had popped up on the screen of her watch. She wasn’t really reading them; this friend of Matt’s seemed just like her type: skrawny, easily flustered, a bit nerdy, and most certainly submissive to his core. It had been a while since she had a pretty boy to play with. Life had gotten hectic after finishing her General Practice Residency and started practicing fully as a dentist. Perhaps James could become a fun outlet for her, so she could relax again.

James finished washing his hands. Though he hadn’t actually used the toilet, he worried that the group would get suspicious or grossed out if he returned and his hands weren’t damp from washing them. He was always conscious of these little things, lest he be judged. Composed once again, he straightened his sweater and walked more confidently back to the corner tables. Unfortunately, his confidence was quickly lost as he spotted that Erin was the only one left at the table. She looked up from her watch just before he could scurry away.

“They went for pizza.” Erin’s voice dropped half an octave in the absence of the group's chatter. “I told them I’d stay behind to keep an eye on you. You looked a little…overwhelmed.”

James scratched nervously at his nose as a nervous tick but also partially to hide his face. “Oh…thank you…I-i’m fine though…I just…um…get nervous in social situations.” James was still standing despite there being many empty seats at the table.

“Hm, nothing wrong with that.” Erin lightly dusted the charcoal-grey material of her trousers before gesturing to the chair beside her where James had sat before. “Sit. I assume you don’t have much of an appetite if you are nervous.”

Erin’s steely gaze and self-assurance still unsettled James to the core. He opened his mouth slightly to rebute, but she had read him like a book, so he closed his mouth and sat on the chair beside her. Still with very proper ergonomics, Erin sat flat footed with legs slightly open while James awkwardly contorted himself into a semi-comfortable position with his legs crossed tightly.

“So, we’ve discussed that you are here partially because Matt dragged you along, but we haven’t necessarily gotten to the root of the reason you are here: BDSM.” James’s eyes widened a bit at her directness. He hadn’t discussed the topic all evening, so diving headfirst into conversation about it with Erin knocked him off his mental balance. He wasn’t sure exactly what Erin said in the next couple sentences, but his brain-fog cleared just enough for him to hear her say: “in other words, what makes you tick?”

“Ummm,” his voice was shaky, “I just…I like…ummm.”

“I’m guessing you’re a submissive?” James was far from being able to look Erin in the face at this moment, but he was sure her complexion was still steady and piercing.

He nodded. “Mhmm.” James squirmed a little in his seat and adjusted his pants which had suddenly gotten mildly tight.

Erin let his affirmative settle in the air a bit before she spoke. She smiled to herself subtly knowing just exactly what she was doing to him. “I can see you’re uncomfortable, so I’ll stop prying. Try to relax.”

James tried to obey without thinking. Erin’s authority fit to his brain so naturally that he began to take deep breaths and focus on the sensations around him to relax. What he didn’t notice was that he was clenching his jaw a bit.

“And release the tension in your masseter muscles, James. You’re grinding.” James complied and relaxed a bit, enough to look at Erin and her wonderfully smooth skin for a few moments.

“Um…you’re a dentist?”

“Just because I’m concerned about you grinding your teeth away doesn’t mean that I am a dentist.”

“But…um…I noticed the way you were holding the pen earlier. The um…’modified pen grasp’ that dentists use…or something like that.”

Erin turned her head slightly and lowered her brow, taken aback slightly at this boy’s accurate deduction. She leaned in a bit and the pub noise seemed to dampen. “Well spotted, James. But why does a boy who studies economics recognize the grip of a clinician? …and why does the mention of it make your pupils dilate like that?”

James might have expected himself to panic in this moment and try to escape the situation, but Erin’s authoritative “bubble” had enveloped him. There was nothing else besides them. He could do nothing except answer her question. “It…it’s one of my fetishes. I’ve been obsessed with the practice for as long as I can remember. I recognized your grip because I read and watch videos about dentistry all of the time, to…you know…get off.”

Erin watched the boy make his way through his confession and then leaned back in her chair for the first time that night. She was thinking. Medical kinks were quite common for her to come across; everyone in this space enjoyed getting naked and touched with latex, but a dental kink was a new one. It clicked with her though. She had always enjoyed the vulnerability of her patients when working on them. And there were certainly moments of joy when a particularly tender piece of tissue was poked and the person in her chair squirmed. She was intrigued.

After a few moments, Erin leaned forward and scooted closer to James, which made his breath catch. Very gently, Erin placed her thumb on James’s chin. An intimate touch but also a clear instruction. “Open.”

James’s eyes fluttered automatically and his breath finally escaped him as he felt her touch and realized it was safe. Slowly, he complied and exposed his mouth to her. She was intoxicating. Some gender neutral cologne mixed with whatever disinfectant her office used to create an aroma that was, at once, piercing and rich.

Erin’s chest fluttered too. Though clearly she was in control, her move was bold. Inspecting James’s oral cavity with what limited view of it she had changed her expression however, from curiosity to professional disgust. Calculus deposits riddled the surfaces of his teeth. His gums looked swollen and ready to bleed at the slightest touch. Not to mention, various inky-black pits spotted the misaligned zigzag of his teeth.

Erin removed her thumb and pulled away from him slowly, a thick eyebrow cocked to show her displeasure. James hadn’t considered the poor state of his teeth before opening, so his realization of what she just saw made his heart drop slightly.

“A fetishist who doesn’t maintain his own canvas? That’s a lack of discipline I find…offensive. You avoid the very thing you crave…perhaps because you are afraid of the authority that comes with correction.”

James deflated a bit and his hands shook as he looked down in embarrassment. “S-s-sorry…”

Erin did not respond to his apology. Instead she reached for her wallet and pulled out a clean, white business card. She slid it across the side of the table and taped her finger on it to emphasize its presence.

“I don’t play ‘Doctor’ for some kink, James. I am one. If you want to see that grip in action, you’ll be at my office tomorrow night at 7:30. Bring your fear, bring your neglect, but, most importantly, bring your total submission.” Erin stood up in front of him, gathered her things, and turned to walk away. “I’ll text the rest of them that I had to leave for an emergency. I trust you can handle yourself until they come back.”

Now alone at the table, James froze, not sure if he was about to cry. He was shaking, and a lump had formed in his throat. More than that, his crossed legs hid the erection similar to the one he was told he sported a couple weeks prior.

After a few moments, he looked at the sleek card on the table, picked it up, and read its face:

“Westwood Precision Dentistry.

Dr. Erin Stone, DMD, GPR.

‘Discipline in every detail.’”