<strong>Susan Cochrane<br/>In a Bar's booth<br/>Very keyed up</strong><br/><br/><br/>Susan turned her hand on the table, palm up, adn gripped Mara's hand, lightly.  Not looking at the younger woman, her eyes on the sage.  "No, not amatures at all.  She rubbed her neck with her other hand, swallowing.<br/><br/>"Not amatures at all.  Shit, that Domme, I don't have to tell you how dangeous a neck strike like that is."<br/><br/>She was silent s the show proceeded.  Very extreme.  Very.<br/><br/>"You're a hard Domme, Mara."  Now turning her head, looking the very intense younger woman in the eyes.  "I'd tell you to go to hell.  But then, I'm able to judge how bad I'm hurt, whether I need a doctor or not.'  She glanced down at their hands, still joined, then back up at her eyes.  "I've got quite a tolerance for pain.  Quite high indeed. But I've never taken pleasure from it."  Her thumb ran lightly across the back of her companion's hand.  " but hen again.  being controlled...." She grinned with real humor.  "Hell, the Army is all about dominance and submission, when you look at it the right way."  She didn't say anything for a few more moments.  She looked at the stage but wasn't watching the show.  "I've been on edge for moths.  Watching my back, keeping track of patients, patients who can't or won't go to a real doctor or clinic.  Always on edge, terrified of making a mistake that will get somebody hurt.  Or killed."  Her eyes flickered, then she looked down at the table.<br/><br/>"I.... have trouble turning my head off."<em>You have no idea how sincerely I say that, no idea.</em>