THE PARTY
Nothing like being a naked burnished slave to raise your pulse rate. Put into a
nice tight collar and wrist cuffs. A leash to lead you and a master to watch
your behavior. A handler to make sure that every part of you was so clean it
squeaked. More attention than a normal person gets in a month. Awesome.
The fact that I had performed these same services for Adam didn't seem like
anything more than a simple courtesy. He had cleaned me and I, him. Afterwards
I had buckled him into the training harness, polishing his body with oil.
Setting his half-flaccid organ into the pliable leather pouch that he handed me
with soft, careful hands.
Not speaking but feeling a trembling in my limbs that was almost excitement.
Almost fear. I should have known that he would see it. Trained in powers of
observation like he was.
"You're frightened, aren't you?" He asked me. Looking down at my shaking hands
as they fumbled with the buckle at his ankle for the fourth or fifth time.
"Yes, Handler." My mouth was dry and my palms were damp. "I've never been with
a crowd before, or seen anybody else..." My eyebrows knit together over my
forehead. Adam touched my face. Looking down at me.
"It's always hard for the intelligent ones. The wide awake ones like you." I
asked if it had been hard for him. He was obviously intelligent and he smiled.
"Yes, but I deserved it. I had an excess of passion that cost me my wife plus a
great job. Most of my life went down the drain. I'd been thinking of this, but
I still tried to live in `normal' life. It was a mistake, but it was mine to
make." He stood, and then straightened some of the buckles. "You want to keep
this part of you a secret, unfortunately, secrets that have to be kept are
generally things that people are ashamed of. I'm stigmatized, but I'm having so
much fun I don't really care." I smiled. "You like the agony and the
humiliation. You come when you are used harshly and just the thought of it,
makes you drenched." I blushed at the veracity in his words. He pulled me to
my feet, smoothing my hair. Touching me soothingly. "Acceptance of yourself is
the hardest thing that you will learn here. It was the hardest thing that I
learned here. I have my real-life and I also have this intoxicating fantasy.
Lucky me." He said with a devilish twinkle in his eyes that made me smile.
"Are you ever frightened?" He laughed, kissing me. His big hands hard against
the small of my back. Pressing me tightly against his body.
"Of course, I am." He grinned. I breathed deeply of the male smell coming from
his warm skin. "I'm titillated by every aspect of this. I love to punish you.
I, also, love to be punished by others. You think that there is something wrong
with what you want and what you need to feel good." His hands cupped the soft
flesh of my buttocks, kneading it lightly. "If there is something wrong with
you, then there is also something wrong with me. Let's not worry about it,
right now. By the end of this night. We'll both be so sore, so well fucked; it
won't matter if we are ashamed or simply unconscious. We just have to do what
we're told to do. That's all we have to do." I nodded and let him lead me from
the room with the little leather leash.
The party was going when we went downstairs at precisely seven o'clock. The
crowd pleasant and hot looking. There was enough leather in this room to redo
the whole house full of furniture. All of it black and all of it covering hot
skin. Enfolding willing limbs and sensuous attributes. Top or bottom, the
pulse of this room could be felt in the air.
Men and women with slaves kneeling at their feet. Belts studded with silver and
brass. Collars, cuffs. Whips and crops. Flexible leather paddles. I almost
came on the spot where I knelt at the sight of so much S/M gear in one room. I
managed to contain myself, just barely. I attracted some attention simply
because I was a neoteric face. Someone that the regular players did not know
intimately. They assessed my erotic potential the way they would assess anyone
fresh. A new player in this game. These people were like anybody else.
Excited by a novice. A virgin, if you will.
Adam led me over to Jon, who was standing by the fireplace with Traci and
another man. I kept my eyes down and my head close to the floor. Traci saw us
coming and unhooked a leash from her own belt. Snapping it unto Adam's collar.
He went gracefully to his knees, kissing her boots. She touched his hair softly,
still speaking to the man above us. We were ignored. I was almost grateful. I
had no desire to draw any attention in this crowd. The only attention I could
entice would be negative. There were so many people here, so many slaves. The
place practically hummed with suppressed sexuality. A vibratory undertone that
buzzed the very air I was breathing. I huddled closer to Jon's leg in useless
fear. My eyes wide, heart trying to beat its way out of my breast. The carpet
softly abrasive against my skin.
Jon touched my hair making me lean closer against his left leg. Sure that he
could feel my pulse through the roots of my hair. Absolutely certain that
everyone could see the damp tangle of hair at the apex of my thighs. I tried
not to look about me, but it was impossible. There was too much to see. Jon
spoke down to me then, his voice low.
"Eyes on me, Anne." I kissed his shoes and laid my face against the soft
leather of his pants. Focusing all my senses on him alone. Terrified of
displeasing him, especially in this crowd. A word from him would have me bitted
and fitted. Running to please someone I barely knew. My hands curled against
his ankle in mute supplication. I kept my face on the floor. Listening to his
voice flow over me like warm water from a spigot. I did want to see what was
going on around me, yet curbing my curiosity was very difficult. "Anne, Look up
at my friend, Terry." I raised my eyes, and my head. Keeping my hands flat on
the floor, and my gaze below the level of his belt. Jon put his hand under my
chin, raising my face all the way up. "He wants to see your eyes, slave." I
elevated them to the face before me. A wise face. Time had etched lines of
subtle tracery around the corners of his eyes. The mouth was firm and the lips
slightly thin. His hair was light brown, very short. Steel-rimmed glasses,
slightly smoked, covered his eyes. Obscuring the color so I could not see them
clearly. His body was solid looking, not soft. His legs were thick but well
set on the rug. His balance was good. He wore a suit of heather tweed with
elbow patches. Rolex watch and a large diamond pinkie ring. The impeccable
accouterments of money and power. I met his eyes and saw him reach out to touch
my cheek. His hand moved slowly and I knew that my eyes had widened to twice
their normal size. I was all innocent expression and softly trembling limbs.
The picture of enslaved uncertainty.
I watched his hands approaching my face. His fingers encased in thin gray
gloves that seemed to be very finely made. I felt the softest brush from those
limber digits across my cheek. His softly accented British voice floating into
my ears.
"Well, Jonathan. What a treasure you've found. She's lovely." Cupping my
chin, he pulled me upright with the deftest of touches. One long finger moving
across my collarbone. I remembered the proper position and kept my legs open.
My hands on my thighs. Remaining as still as a millpond after sunset. He spoke
as though I was not even there, as I expected him too. "Nice breasts on this
one. I see the mark of the cane on the inside of her thighs already." Wry
amusement colored his tone. Jon spoke again, proudly. Taking a handful of my
hair.
"She passed the Safe-word test by a least five minutes, Terry. Without
bleeding, or screaming, more than one would expect her too. Very willing, yet
compliant." The man never removed his hand from my shoulder, but he took his
gaze off of me to meet Jon's. I was grateful.
"However did you find her?" Terry asked, causing Jon to laugh. Explaining that
I had practically fallen into his lap. Drawn by one of the discreet ads that he
placed in the local Nouveau paper. "I have never tried advertising. I much
prefer to acquire stock from reputable trainers such as you, Jonathan." I could
hear a note of disdain in his voice. "This modern age has so little finesse."
His attention fell back to me. I shivered. "When you want me to introduce this
little flower to the full passion of the cane, do call me. I love a novice that
does not bleed." The fingers remaining on me were pulled away, leaving an open
space on my body.
I felt as if all the air had been pulled from my lungs. I was empty, void. All
of this was meaningless unless the hand of the Master touched my flesh. I took
deep breaths in reaction. Trying to regain my composure, my peace of mind. I
didn't think that I would be able to when suddenly I noticed Traci taking Adam
away from us. Leading him from the room on all fours. Terry following behind,
watching the smooth play of muscle as Adam crawled in front of him. `Where were
they going?' I didn't dare ask. I tried to be patient but it was very
difficult. Other people kept wandering over to handle my body. Touching my
hair and my breasts. Jon seemed to want me to be perpetually titillated by what
I saw, yet merely on the fringe of the action. An observer and that was all
right by me. I was so overwhelmed by what I was seeing that it was hard to
absorb. Others kept wandering off only to return to us. Jon, with one of his
hands on me possessively at all times, was talking shop over my head. His deep
laugh floated down to me in a comforting wave and I licked the tip of his boots
in spontaneous reaction. Feeling warm wetness reaching the tops of my thighs.
I was so hot for sex. I felt like I was going to explode. `Where was Traci?
What was expected of me?'
"Anne, stand up and follow me. Your knees are too raw to go down the stairs to
the playroom." I obeyed him. Surprised anew to realize ho close we were in
height. The contrast between how much he scared me and how related we were
physically was astounding to me. The sprinkling of salt and pepper in his
hair. The fire that lit his eyes when I did something particularly gracefully.
I did like him and that was the best thing that could have happened to me. Being
topped by someone I respected.
