Judging by the looks from everyone around the table, Sam knew she had slipped up somewhere. Wide, brown eyes searched their faces for any hint of what was so laughable about her question. Mikie, thankfully, took over to explain what the books had gotten wrong about BDSM. "It doesn't<i>look</i>like the submissive is in control," she hesitantly mentioned, looking again to the stage where, from her perspective, the Domme was making all of the decisions.<br/><br/>"That's all part of the game Mikie mentioned," Louise smiled. "It's a called a power exchange, but you have to understand it goes both ways. The sub willingly gives the Dominant the power to control the scene, but it's all done within their established limits. Even though he is submitting to me, I can't use a gag on Rickie or whip him until he passes out if those are his limits. I also can't continue a scene once he uses his safe-word, even if I don't think we're done. So... the only power I really have is whatever Rickie is willing to give me, which in turn gives<i>him</i>power."<br/><br/>It was clear from her expression that Sam was not only beginning to understand, but was intrigued by everything being said. Mikie's rhetorical question had her giggling, and she shook her head. "That would only encourage them to earn more "punishment". Everyone uses discipline and punishment interchangably, so I never thought about how they mean different things."<br/><br/>Louise nodded and explained, "Exactly. Punishment can be part of Discipline, if it's agreed upon, but it isn't the "point". As a Domme, I use Discipline to help my sub serve me better because it pleases<i>both</i>of us."<br/><br/>They got to the point a moment later when Mikie stood up, Sam tilting her head back to look up at the woman, both admiring how bold she was and, like the rest of the table, slightly embarrassed to have attention drawn their way. Marie didn't seem at all taken aback, however, and answered in a way that was both honest and warm. It was clear she saw Marcus as more than part of the show; he was her partner, both on stage and in life. Sam's expression softened as she listened to the woman, and she nodded before the woman turned away once more.<br/><br/>Noting everyone's bright red faces, she glanced at Mikie, realizing this probably wasn't the first time the punk woman had embarrassed her friends with her bold antics. Reaching over, she gently covered one of her Mikie's hands with hers and smiled as she caught her gaze. "Thank you for asking," Sam said softly, "I'm usually too shy to draw attention to myself like that, even when I have a question. If Marie would rather stop the show than risk her husband, I'm sure she would rather answer a question now than wonder later why someone didn't ask before they hurt themself."<br/><br/>That left only one pressing question on her mind, and Sam looked at Mikie's friends as she asked, "So... how does someone know what they are? Do they choose? What if someone doesn't fit in anywhere here?" Mikie, Bobbie, Louise, Rickie... they all seemed so sure of who they were and what they liked. Sam didn't even know where to start.