Liv's Journey

by Patricia Green

  He nodded.

  They drove back to the restaurant in silence. Trey went inside alone to tell his friends that they were going back to the ranch early. Liv moved to the front passenger seat while he was away.

  His look was intense as he sat beside her. "We'll get through this, Liv." Trey's fingers were warm on her cheeks and she realized that tears were running down her face.

  "Yeah." But they wouldn't get through it. No matter what they did, what story they'd concoct, there would be that photo out there, calling attention to a new weakness she blatantly showed the world. It was too much. She pressed her hands to her face and began to sob in earnest.

  She tried to stop, but the tears and wretched whimpers kept coming.

  Trey gathered her up in his arms, quietly cursing into her hair.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  Liv had to bathe her eyes in ice water the next morning before the session, but puffy redness persisted. The cosmetician covered what she could and looked at her with concern. Liv told her she was alright, but, of course, she wasn't. Nothing would ever be alright again.

  When her cell phone rang, she looked at the caller ID and then put the phone on "silent." It was her agent. She didn't know why Amanda would call her so early, except with bad news, so she chose not to deal with it. Maybe if she ignored the spanking incident, it would just go away.

  No, of course it wouldn't.

  She went to work though her heart wasn't in it. The photographer got frustrated with her lack of animation and switched to other segments and other models. Liv wandered away from the crew and into the trees nearby, meandering toward the sound of the stream she'd heard so recently with Trey.

  Only birdsong broke the silence of the cool trees. It was shadowed like her mood, but peaceful, unlike her roiling emotions.

  Maybe she could scurry out of the country until the scandal died down. Europe would be out as the property "Liv Aune" was known there as well as she was known in the states. In fact, they'd probably laud her in Paris and Milan for being so outré. The publicity would be huge, but all she wanted was for the whole thing to go away. It would have to be South America, she thought. She liked Santiago well enough, so that might be a possibility.

  How long would she have to be away? Would a month be long enough? Any longer and she'd start to erode her "star" status.

  Tears pricked the back of her eyelids and she sniffed resolutely. She would not cry again.

  The stream got louder as she approached, and then the path opened up and the water came into view. It was a small stream, just big enough to run over rounded rocks vigorously. A frog jumped away from her as she stepped up to the water.

  "You look like you lost your best friend."

  She didn't look behind her; she recognized the voice—Trey. "I have lost her. Her name was Liv Aune."

  "You haven't lost yourself, darlin'. It's just a bump in the road. It'll pass."

  She turned toward him, angry and ready to bite his head off, but he stood there, so tall and handsome, his hair tousled by the breeze, his cotton t-shirt molded to his broad chest and shoulders. All her anger fled on the wind and she was empty.

  "What are you doing here, Trey?"

  "Lookin' for you."

  She faced the stream again. "Here I am."

  "Yeah. Nothin's in the paper today. I drove to Sonora to look at all the rags. Maybe the picture came out badly. It was dark, and you were face-down."

  A little hope brightened her dismal mood. "Maybe."

  "Anyway, it'll work out." He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I called my commandin' officer this mornin' and gave him a heads-up."

  "Was he mad at you?"

  "He didn't like it much, but I don't think he's goin' to reprimand me unless it becomes necessary for public relations. That’s a good thing; a public reprimand would pretty much end my chances at promotion or a full military career."

  "PR is everywhere."

  "Mm-hmm." He turned her around until they faced each other. "Let me take your mind off it for a night, Liv. Come to the BDSM Boot Camp openin’ party with me. There will be security there, so nothin’ bad can happen to you."

  "Who secures the party-goers, Trey? All of those people could make money on a story sold to the papers."

  "They'd be exposin’ themselves right along with you. And, let me assure you, most of those folks would have as much to lose as we do. Some a lot more."

  She stopped staring at his chest and looked up into his face. Sincerity made his eyes warm. Things had gone horribly wrong, but she'd learned something about herself, and about Trey, too. She was beginning to trust him, she realized.

  "I don't have anything to wear."

  He laughed softly. "Woman words, if I ever heard 'em. How 'bout you wear one of my dress shirts and some really high heels?"

  That might look cute. "It's a kind of costume party?"

  "Many of the women will be wearin’ fetish wear. A shirt and heels combo will fit in fine."

  "Okay. Can I borrow a tie, too?"

  His mouth turned up at the corners. "I'll dig one up for you." He ran his finger along her jaw. "No underwear, darlin'."

  Liv's face got hot. On the runway, that was the way it went. Nothing to spoil the lines of the garments. But, since she'd changed, she felt the need to cover up all the sexy parts. "I don't know…"

  Trey smoothed the frown between her brows and she relaxed her face. His voice was gentle but brooked no disagreement. "That's an order."

  "Like you ordered me to stay away from my vibrator?"

  "Yeah, like that kind of order."

  "I did it."

  "I’d hoped you'd mind and am pleased to hear you did." He sounded so confident. "I have faith in you, li'l girl."

  She bit her lip and Trey's hands moved into her hair. "Your girl?"

  "We’re headin’ that way," he told her. "We'll see tonight."

  He lowered his head to kiss her, and she rose on tiptoes to meet him halfway. His hands were insistent in her hair, tilting her head to slant their lips together. It was not a gentle kiss, but Liv didn't want gentle. She wanted to be transported. Whisked away by the moment and out of her dark musings about fate and consequences.

  They only had a few days left together. Until harsh realities claimed her, she wasn't going to be "Liv Aune, Supermodel." She was going to be "Liv Aune, Trey's Girl." No loss of self, but a temporary relaxation of responsibility. Like a vacation. A vacation adventure.

  * * *

  She was sexy as a centerfold, but with no airbrushing. Liv wore his shirt like it was made for her, despite the fact that she'd had to roll the sleeves up to sit at her wrists and the shirt tail hung nearly to her knees. The tie he’d given her was a favorite of his, hand-painted with four playing cards, all threes. Her pale blonde hair draped down her back like a golden silk scarf, straight and shiny as a new coin. Her white heels, which she confessed she'd borrowed from the shoot, were five inches high with an inch-high platform under the instep. Trey was glad he was so tall, for once. A tall girl like Liv would easily tower over most other men in those heels.

  "You're staring at me," she pointed out. "Do I have lipstick on my teeth?"

  He did a mental head-shake. "No. Your lipstick is where it ought to be, for now."

  Her brown eyebrows peaked. "For now?"

  He grinned. "I can think of a few other places it might migrate to." She looked tense, but he thought of a way to take some of the starch out of her shoulders. "There is one thing missin’ from your outfit, darlin’…you need a spot of color."

  "I should have picked the red shoes. I thought they'd be too much. I was going for something more understated." She sighed and stared at her shoes, a little frown marring her brow.

  Trey tilted her head up. "That's not what I meant."

  "Huh?"

  It would smear her lipstick, but Trey didn't care if she wore it eyebrow to earlobes, he wanted to kiss her. L
iv's lips were full and warm beneath his, and her teeth were smooth as he explored. She offered her tongue to him and he took it eagerly while he pulled her body up against him. Her curves delighted him, especially the curve of her ass. He squeezed those gorgeous globes, noting with pleasure that she'd followed his instructions and left off her underwear. Gathering up the shirt she wore, Trey exposed her behind for fondling. But he wanted more than a fondle. She needed to relax, and truth be told, he could use a little relaxation as well.

  "Turn around, angel, and put your hands on the back of the chair."

  She was breathless when she answered. "You want me to…what?" Her voice was sexy and almost ragged.

  "Yeah, you heard me. Put your hands on the back of the chair."

  Liv gave it a moment's thought, then turned and did as he'd asked. The chair had a low back, and left her bent over. It was a perfect spanking position.

  Trey pushed her shirt up to the small of her back and rubbed his hand over her bottom reverently. It was a perfect ass. Full, slightly jiggly, round and topping a pair of incredibly sexy legs.

  He gave her a few love pats, each one growing in intensity. After her first gasp of surprise, she arched a little, caught herself and pulled away slightly.

  "Don't you think we've gotten into enough trouble with this, Trey?"

  "We're alone, darlin'. No one's here to see or hear us."

  Her indecision was like heat emanating from a furnace. He smacked her again and she groaned. A moment later, she wiggled her ass a little and pressed back toward his hand. Apparently, she'd made up her mind.

  Trey swatted her again and again, and soon her bottom blushed a rosy pink. She was excited, too, he could smell her clean, woman fragrance and see the wetness on her pussy. "That's my girl." A few more spanks, and then he rubbed her red cheeks tenderly. "Pretty color. Pink looks good on you, li'l girl."

  "Don't stop, Trey."

  "We need to stop and get along to the party." He patted her hot rear. "But, I promise you, darlin', next time I'm not gonna stop until I fuck you into next week."

  She stood and took a step away, rubbing her behind as the shirt settled back in place.

  "Until then…" He grinned and gestured toward the door.

  Pink-cheeked, she slid into the overcoat Trey had tossed on the bed and headed for the door. Trey moved aside as she passed. Her perfume inflamed his senses almost as much as her appearance. It was going to be tough to have much self-control that evening.

  * * *

  Liv had been to hundreds of parties as part of her job. She attended a much smaller subset because she liked the people involved. In the case of the BDSM Boot Camp opening party, she didn't know quite how to prepare herself. Trey was with her, and she was confident that if she hated the experience, he'd take her back to her cabin and say a polite goodnight. Of course, it would be goodnight forever.

  Hopefully, they wouldn't have to go there. Liv intended to do her part to make their evening a success…even if that meant stretching herself into new experiences.

  Out of consideration for Liv's towering footwear, Trey drove them to the convention center in his truck. He explained that the building used to be the family's house, but had been renovated to suit the Boot Camp requirements.

  It was a sprawling two-story brick ranch house, with white trim. As promised, two security men stood at the front door, checking people's invitations as they arrived. They were not uniformed, but their size was plenty intimidating. They knew Trey on sight and addressed him as "Mr. Journey" though they stumbled over "Mr." as if they normally called him something else.

  There was a little foyer inside, with scuffed parquet flooring and freshly painted pale cream walls. A large gilt-framed mirror made the small space seem bigger and gave guests a chance to have a quick look at themselves before entering the main room.

  Liv took a look at her reflection. She was not wind-mussed, but she did feel butterflies. She had a momentary chill when the heavy overcoat was lifted off her shoulders by a woman wearing a lacy teddy and a lot of cheap perfume. The cold sensation was compounded by the fact that she wore no underwear. The pinstriped oxford shirt she wore with a loosely-knotted necktie, was starch-slick against her scorched bottom, and rubbed sensuously against her nipples. She worried that her imperfect body was too accessible, too easily exposed to all these people. She worried that the people would be weird and repugnant. That she would be repugnant. Her hands grew clammy with anxiety. Despite it all, she put on her best smile and followed Trey through the foyer and into a warm welcome.

  There were about fifty people there and many large pieces of equipment. Liv didn't know what each piece was used for, but she was willing to be educated—academically, at least. Small groups were gathered in several scene areas. A woman was suspended on what must be an x-frame, her bare back lightly striped. There was a man behind her with a multi-tailed whip. A clutch of people were watching and chatting.

  Nearly everyone knew Trey, of course. The men—largely dressed in jeans and dress shirts, or sometimes in leather pants—patted him on the shoulder, and the women, dressed in bright latex or silk and looking like tropical birds, turned their eyes down toward his boots and called him sir.

  For Liv, the kind of respect he garnered was not particularly surprising, but the way it was shown was an eye-opener. Was she supposed to be avoiding eye contact with these unknown men as well? They looked respect-worthy, but how could she know? Didn't they have to earn her respect? She'd never demurred from a strange man in her life.

  Trey introduced her around, telling his friends that she was new to BDSM and "untrained." Whatever that meant.

  A slightly older man, his rugged features so similar to Trey's that they had to be related, was the last to greet them.

  "Little brother! I was beginnin' to wonder if y'all had gotten lost on the way to the party." He smiled at Liv. "But I can see why you'd be distracted. Hello, pretty girl."

  Trey snorted, but his smile was genuine. "Ace, this is Liv." He put his arm around Liv's shoulders in a gesture that said, "mine!" "Liv, this is my brother, Ace."

  "Pleased to meet you...sir?" She looked up at Trey who nodded and grinned.

  "Good girl," he said, then turned back to his brother. "Learns fast."

  Ace's brown eyes meandered over her face and her cheeks got warm. His gaze then moved over her hair to her pointed breasts and down her long legs to her high, high heels. "Not bad, brother."

  Some weird and perverse facet of Liv's personality got an inordinate amount of pleasure from that simple assessment. Distracted, she realized that it had made her smile rather too late to turn the smile into a remonstrative frown.

  Trey's hand moved from Liv's shoulder to the small of her back, then down to cup her bottom. He gave it a squeeze then pointed to a bar set-up on the other side of the room. "Liv, will you please go and fetch me a Jack and coke? Get yourself something you like, too. I need a moment to talk to my brother about party details."

  Ace hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his black jeans and watched curiously.

  Liv looked from brother to brother and then nodded. "Sure." Trey patted her butt as she walked away, and a little bite of irritation flared. She wasn't sure she could deal with being objectified this way. It was possible, however, that nervousness was making her hyper-sensitive. This was, after all, a male dominance group and women were supposed to be subservient. She'd had an idea of what she was getting into. The night was still young.

  As she moved through the room, she heard snatches of conversation. Mostly, it was chit-chat about the weather, traffic, travel stories. Some was pure gossip—he did, she did, they did. The most interesting tidbits were the scenes she heard being planned.

  A woman was on her knees in front of a man of middle height, balding, but wearing a famous designer oxford shirt and some expensive Italian shoes with his custom-made slacks. A man with money, then, getting the obeisance of an attractive woman wearing a blue corset and g-string and nothing else.
The man told her that she could have two choices tonight: pussy flogging on the bondage table, or nipple torture on the trapeze. Torture? Liv's blood raced. How dangerous was this group? The woman immediately thanked her "Master" and chose the nipple torture. Her voice was full of delight, and she smiled joyfully. Although Liv thought Trey was likely trustworthy, she was afraid of what he might ask of her. Torture sounded scary.

  She trembled as she moved away from the couple and approached the bar. There was something intriguing and seductive about the idea of pain and sex being tied together, but how much pain made all the difference. Liv didn't think she was masochistic; she was…open to new sensations.

  As she was walking back with Trey's Jack and coke and her gin and tonic, she saw Mark, Laura and Rosaria in a nearby seating area. They were having sex! Right there, in the middle of the place, Rosaria was sucking on Mark's thick cock while Laura was licking the brunette's pussy. They were focused on each other as though no one else existed in the room. Rosaria's face was a little flushed and her eyes were closed in concentration and pleasure. Laura was humming happily against Rosaria's wet flesh. Mark had his hands wrapped in Rosaria's long hair and was guiding her face on his shaft in the rhythm he liked.

  Liv nearly dropped her drinks. Was Trey going to expect her to have public sex with him? Granted, Liv had had a kind of exhibitionist streak when she was skinny. She liked to be admired for her looks and was happy to show off how well she looked in designer clothes. But that was in clothes, not wearing fetish clothing and giving head. And, how did she feel about having a woman's mouth on her? Her usual attitude was that whatever consenting adults chose to do, so long as it wasn't hurting anyone, was okay with her. But, she'd never tried it and didn't know if it would be for her. Certainly, she was unprepared for the eventuality.

  Trey was smiling with his brother a little distance away, and she relaxed a bit. Her bottom still smarted from what he called a "warm-up" but he hadn't asked more of her than she could accept. He knew she was a beginner in this world. He wouldn't expect her to jump in with open legs. Probably.