Trying not to dwell on that possibility Alex knelt as gracefully as she could and tentatively touched the dusty black leather with her tongue. “Make it shine, girl.” Mistress Jade pushed the toe of the boot into Alex’s mouth. She wanted to recoil but didn’t dare.
The bell rang and she heard the door open. In a booming voice a man announced, “The party can now begin. We have arrived.” This was followed by laughter.
The boot, mercifully, was pulled away as Mistress Jade turned to cry, “Mark, beautiful man. It’s been ages.”
Alex sat back, relieved at her reprieve. Daniel tapped her shoulder and she stood. He put a comforting arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She leaned against him. “She can be a bully. Don’t worry though, she doesn’t like girls except to humiliate them.” Alex found this small comfort and determined to stay off Mistress Jade’s radar for the rest of the evening.
The new couple was considerably more attractive. They were introduced as Mark and Jarrett. In their late twenties or early thirties, they both had hard, lean bodies, though neither was as good-looking as Liam and Daniel. Mark wore a black jacket over a black knit shirt and dark trousers. His sub Jarrett wore white cotton pants and a white tank top he removed upon entry to reveal thick silver barbells through his nipples.
As the guests entered, they were offered juice and sparkling water by two dark, handsome swarthy men dressed in gold silk lounge pants and matching gold vests, the uniform of the caterers. Two other men in gold moved through the growing crowd, offering platters of hot and cold appetizers.
Liam and Daniel were busy mingling and introducing people to each other, though most of them seemed already acquainted. Alex stayed close to one or the other of them, feeling shy. They introduced her as well, referring to her as their slave girl, which gave her an excited tingly feeling.
Liam was engaged in a conversation with a striking older man with a thick mane of silver hair. A petite woman, naked except for a very thick metal collar around her slender throat, knelt at his feet, her hands chained loosely behind her back. Alex noticed the crisscross of fading and fresh purple welts covering her back and ass.
While Liam and Daniel had marked Alex during whippings, the marks never lasted more than a few hours at most. She noticed the bruising on the woman’s thighs and upper arms and felt a sense of disquiet.
She looked around for Daniel, who was talking to a couple of very good-looking guys. In fact the party was for the most part populated with extremely handsome and no doubt very gay men, both Dom and sub. She moved toward him and waited nearby, hoping to catch his eye.
Eventually he saw her and excused himself from his guests. “Hey, Alex. What’s up? You need me?”
She pointed with her chin toward the kneeling woman. “That sub. She’s covered in welts and bruises. Is she okay? She looks like she’s being abused.”
Daniel looked at the woman in question and turned back to Alex. “That’s Isabelle and Christian, her Master. She’s a pain slut. She’s there at his feet because that’s where she wants to be. Don’t worry, she’s not being abused, Alex. We wouldn’t invite people to our house who didn’t honor the basic rules of consensual submission. Isabelle and Christian are married. They’ve been living as Master and slave 24/7 since the last of their kids moved out like ten years ago. From what I can see, they’re in love and deeply committed to each other.”
“But those bruises,” Alex protested.
“Isabelle has fair skin. She bruises easily, like you do. I’ve left a bruise or two on your ass, you know.” He patted her bottom.
“Yeah, but not like that.”
“It’s a matter of degree. Her level of pain tolerance is much higher than yours—or mine, for that matter. She needs more to feel the intensity we can get from a simple whipping or spanking. They’ll probably do a demonstration later, once the party is in full swing. He always has some new toy he likes to try out on her. But don’t worry, she’s very into it. She’s the one who buys the stuff and begs him to use it on her.”
Alex nodded. It made sense. It was all part of a pleasure/pain spectrum. Isabelle just happened to be at the far end, while Alex was more in the middle. If she thought about it, most vanilla folks would be horrified to know what turned her on. They didn’t understand she was built this way. It wasn’t a choice—it was how she was hardwired.
Hell, her best friend, Cheryl, claimed she was cool with Alex’s orientation. But if she really knew the details—how Alex could practically orgasm from a good whipping, or be reduced to soaking-wet desire from the stinging cut of a cane, she would probably freak out.