Wow. Just wow.
The Wilders’ entire basement was set up in her image of the classic sex dungeon. There were intricate racks and solid wooden benches, crosses and cages, chains and pulleys and other equipment she’d read about in her investigation into the BDSM “lifestyle.” Almost all of it was in use. From the stairs she could see the whole room, but she didn’t dare stand there and gawk. She continued down and moved off to the side.
The music was softer down here, so she could hear the pervasive sounds of lust and arousal. The lighting was minimal, which suited her purposes—lots of shadows to hide in. The walls, floors, and ceiling were all black, lit by candelabras that flickered even though the candles were fake. From her vantage point, she could see that the back and side walls were loaded with whips, handcuffs, sex toys, and some stuff she didn’t recognize. Aside from the decor and the extensive selection of BDSM toys, the whole room was alive with people, real people doing really intimate and perverted stuff, freely, in public.
Petra watched all of this with a sense of wonder. She wasn’t a prude by any means, but...wow. These people were going at it full throttle, with no self-consciousness, at least none that she could see. There were crawling women on leashes, slave men decked out in complex body harnesses, Dom-types with leather floggers and cuffs clipped to their belts. In one corner, a burly man decorated a curvy girl with knotted rope, while his female assistant stroked and teased her between the legs.
Nearby, a man walloped a bent-over, voluptuous woman with a thick strap. The woman cried out at each blow, but she was clearly enjoying it. The woman’s ass was scarlet red beneath her sheer pink panties, and her entire body seemed to tremble in fear at the same time she accepted each stroke. As for her partner, his face lit up in a smile at each of her cries and groans. It was so freaky and weird and...hot. The sound of the strap and the impact turned Petra on, even though she didn’t want anything like that to happen to her. It was impossible not to react to the intensity of interplay between the couple.
Petra closed her eyes. No. No, she didn’t want to be that girl. Did she?
No. She was only getting turned on because it had been so long since she’d had sex. It had been too long since anything raunchy or intense happened in her bedroom, unless she counted her sex dreams about Rubio, and they weren’t real.
Rubio. Where was he? She searched the room as well as she could, but other scenes caught her attention. A twenty-something girl with long stripey socks clutched a teddy bear while an older couple played with her breasts. A super hot, barely-legal guy knelt in front of a latex clad woman, alternately licking and polishing her boots, while a girl in skin-tight leather writhed and screamed as her Dom paddled her.
If she was that girl, would she scream like that? She wondered what it felt like, to be spanked while screaming her lungs out, powerless to get away. She’d fantasized about it, but these men and women were really living it.
“Hey, Ashleigh!” Arms encircled her, pulling her into a full body embrace. “I thought you went upstairs with Liam.”
From his touch alone, she knew it was Rubio. His hands roved over her flat stomach. “Meu Deus do céu. What happened to your baby?”
Petra turned and stepped away from him. He took in her face and her hair at the same time she took in his astounding nakedness. He was hard all over, beautifully muscled, his pronounced iliac furrows framing a truly magnificent cock. She dropped her gaze and stared at the ground. Don’t recognize me. Please don’t recognize me.
He put a finger under her chin and tipped her head up. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he scrutinized her face. His voice came low and roughened with surprise. “You!”
She shook her head, like she might still play this off. He backed away and looked at all of her—her dress, her wig, the black pumps she wore instead of her toe shoes.
“You,” he exclaimed again, like he couldn’t get his brain wrapped around it. Her brain wasn’t working that well either. She was stone-cold busted and Rubio was so, so naked. When she turned to flee, he caught her arm.
“Wait. What are you doing here?” He pushed back her hair when she tried to hide her face. “Why are you wearing a wig?”
So you won’t recognize me, damn it. “I’m here for the same reason you are,” she lied. “To have a good time, to relax, to enjoy myself.”
“What in holy fuck?” He seemed outraged, which made no sense since he was here and, from the looks of things, having quite a pleasurable time. “I thought you were Ashleigh,” he spluttered. “You looked just like her from behind.”
“You run around groping Ashleigh whenever you feel like it?” Petra snapped. “I thought she was married to your friend.”
“What are you doing here?” he repeated, ignoring her question. Again, helplessly, her gaze dipped to his half-engorged and wholly-impressive cock. He reached down and covered himself with an affronted expression. “Stop leering at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
“I’m not leering. You’re the one running around naked.” He wasn’t the only one, sure, but he was the only one standing two feet from her. And the only one with a body that made her want to cry in its virile perfection. She’d seen him bare-chested, in clinging sweats, and in body-hugging tights that left nothing to the imagination. Even then, she’d never imagined this.
“Come here.” He took her elbow and steered her deeper into the dark corner. He backed her against the wall and leaned down, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he waggled a finger in her face.
“If you came to spy on me, to tell my secrets to everyone, too bad. Everyone knows I come here. I’m not ashamed that I’m kinky.”
What? He thought she was here to out him or something? She didn’t want him to believe that so she spit out another blatant lie. “I’m here because I’m kinky too.” She stuck out her chin, willing her voice not to shake as she lied her head off. “I’ve been kinky my whole life, as long as I can remember.”
“Who are you here with? Who invited you?”
She bit her lip. How long was she going to brazen this out? “No one invited me. I heard about this party and I came to check it out.” She shot a longing look over his shoulder, to the stairs and the exit.
“Who you looking for here?” he persisted. “A man? A woman? A top or a bottom?”
His intent questions alarmed her almost as much as her lies. “It’s none of your fucking business who or what I’m looking for
.”
He stared at her a moment, then he snorted. “You have sub all over you like fucking body oil. Is leaking out of your pores.”
“It is not.”
“I knew you were a sub from the second I met you. I just wasn’t sure you knew it.”
She inched away from him, back toward the activity and noise of the play room floor. “It doesn’t matter. Just because you’re a Dom—”
“I’m a top,” he said sharply. “I don’t do all that role play stuff. I top women and make them feel good. I hurt them, give them sex. They like it. End of story for me.” His gaze flashed with a way-too-alluring intensity as his lips quirked up in invitation.
“That’s great,” she managed to say. “Good for you.”
She walked away from him, because she needed distance and because she was thinking really stupid and ill-advised thoughts.
“Hey.” He grabbed her and pulled her back again. She couldn’t help it—her gaze returned to his cock. It was the barest glance, but he noticed.
“How long since you had sex, Petra? Too long, huh? You like what you see?” He slipped a hand around her waist, brought her right against his chest. She hated that it felt so good, so natural to be in his arms. We’re partners, that’s why. Don’t allow this, stupid girl.
“I’ll top you if you like,” he said in a soft, compelling voice. “Tie you up and hurt you and make you feel so good.” His cock rose with insistent presence against her front. “Then we could do whatever you like. Fucking, oral, even anal if you’re into it. I’m into it,” he added in a truly filthy whisper.
She could barely draw breath. “No, I don’t want you t-to top me. I was just—just going home. I’m tired.”
“But you keep staring at my cock,” he wheedled. “Three, four times now you’re staring at it like you want it.”