I hung up my coat and purse on the long rack near the door, and Shay did the same. This place was more crowded than I imagined. I was thinking 40 people, tops, but at least twice that many flitted about in the visible areas alone. Though the music wasn’t splitting my eardrums, the cranked-up bass thumped hard through my body. A spread of chips and coolers of soda cans covered a card table, but I didn’t see any kegs. Not that I drank beer, it’s nasty, I preferred mixed drinks, wine coolers or frozen treats when I can score some, but at a party this wild, I just assumed they’d have it.
Trying to figure out where to go first, I walked further in and looked around. The waif still pressed against my back and quaked like one of those toy Chihuahuas. Tiny envelopes, marked with unfamiliar names, peppered a long table and gave the answer. Other sororities must still have trials this late in the year too. Frat boys too! Delta Gamma wasn’t as unique in its stinginess for handing out pins and secrets as I believed.
A sign said, “Welcome to Mardis Gras. Hand your card to the RINGMASTER and state your number and choice of activity.”
“You can still make a break for it,” I said.
Shayna bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I can’t. The Goddesses were hoping I’d come. See?”
“All our names are here, in case. It doesn’t mean you have to.”
She snatched her envelope off the table and tore into it with trembling fingers. She crumpled her envelope and tossed the paper ball into a brass bowl on the table. “I’m Number 21. My options: Whipped or Double Dipped. Good Lord.” She shuddered. “Whipped sounds depraved and painful. But what the heck is Double Dipped? That can’t be, like, both at the same time, like … holes I mean. Like that Harold and Kumar freak-out moment, can it? That’s disgusting.”
I was messed up, totally, because it didn’t disgust me at all. To be doubly full and the object of manly attention? Mmm. Scary kinda, especially the anal, but enticing all the same.
The white card in Shayna’s jittery hand blurred before my eyes. Under a cascade of the yellow-green light sweeping over us, it might have been a trick of the eye that she looked suddenly greener, but I’d stake my life on it that some of that color was real. She removed the red, silicone bracelet from the envelope and put it on, proof to everyone here that she was certifiably STD-free. “I’ve never even had sex,” she muttered, even though I already knew that. I was pretty sure we were the only untapped flowers in the whole House, unless someone was lying.
“It can’t be that. Neither vaginal nor anal is allowed. Brianna swore.” I rubbed the bracelet in my sealed envelope between my thumb and ring finger. The report I’d surrendered to the Goddesses weeks ago was out of date. I’m not sure how long it takes for STDs to show up in a test anyway, but I’m thinking ten days is not enough time, for most. Since then, I’d been eaten out by Logan … amazingly, I must stress. His skill and self-assurance suggested a long line of lovers, but I didn’t think he’d had many. His presence, with its breezy slant towards domination–god, I love that word–wasn’t an accurate gauge of his experience. I’d savagely hunted for his castoffs of yesteryear, to learn what kind of girl melted his resolve, so I could maybe kinda be that, just long enough to catch his eye. I could only come up with one ex, Carrie, and they’d never done it or anything close, which was why she dumped him. She claimed he wouldn’t go down on her and couldn’t keep his stick up long enough to take her virginity. Brianna was determined to fix that and show him what a real woman could do. He saw through her game. He hasn’t dated since from what I could gather. Maybe the ED thing was just another rumor to scare off girls, maybe not. I honestly didn’t care either way. Of course I wanted him, viciously, but he, as my Lord, well, the Lord I desired, if he did indeed claim me as his–Which he won’t!!! Get a clue, Addison!–could choose to never fuck me anyway, to never give me that gift, and I might whine about it, but I’d still itch to serve him until I expel my dying breath. He certainly had no problem faux-fucking me and licking me up in the woods, though, that’s for sure. He was not lacking in skill at all or hesitant. Uuuuhhh, god. And there we were again, going buck wild against the tree. I leaned forward and set one palm on the table.
“Yeah, but …” Shayna whined, “that’s only with a penis.”
And his penis, god, his rigid, long cock, was still in my mind, sliding back and forth, flicking my clit, making both of my mouths water. Fuck! Get out of my freaking head, Logan! You’re an asshole. Leave me alone! I drifted away from that visual only to zip back to the moment after he made me squirt. At the time, when he’d said he didn’t know if he could do it for me, I thought he meant to me, ’cause like, every girl’s different, but now, I really don’t think he’d ever done that at all. He also never spanked a girl and had delivered a sure hand that I’m sure rivaled any Master Dom’s. He knew exactly how to warm me up, push me up and over my threshold and make me hurt the most. A guy like Logan, who yearns to control, even though he may be in denial right at the moment, would never walk around untested. He’d have to know. And he wouldn’t have been lapping me up and sucking me senseless if there’d been even the slightest doubt in his mind. Anyone caught lying about their status, post-test results, or wearing an unauthorized bracelet got banned from all future parties, but I felt very confident he was as clean as cotton and decided to not sweat it.
Shayna continued, “But the rule doesn’t apply to tongues, fingers or toys. I don’t know about this. I didn’t know the choices would be so obscure. But, if I back out now, I might get kicked out. Leaving now would be worse than me not having come here at all. Don’t ya think?”
“Shay! What did you not understand about a Close-to-Sex party? What did you think this would be? Either stop being a wimp or leave. You shouldn’t have come to this in the first place. I told you this would be too ‘sinful’ for your puritan sensibilities. Didn’t I say that? No one should be making you do anything you don’t want to do.” I was suddenly slammed with the hot image of Logan pressing me into the carpet, his booted foot on my head. Not in an abusive way. In a way that said I was not my own, that I was his. His claimed one. His filthy slut. His cocksucker. His sub. I yearned for his commanding voice to tell me what to do in order to please him, or to catch his eye even, because I’d been failing miserably at both. His eyes had totally vaporized me whenever we crossed paths instead of finding mine and filling me with fire. I growled and mouthed, “Fuck! Off!” to him, even though Logan wasn’t here, he wasn’t in any frat.
A long line of passed DeGa “tests”, most of which I never would have chosen to do on my own, also highlighted my hypocrisy in the words I’d just uttered to Shayna. I’d done every stupid and dangerous thing requested of me to earn my spot in the House. I was even here, diving into who even knows what … something that elicited moans and screams … even in guys. “You know what I mean. This goes against your moral code. The eggs, all-nighters, pranks on the dean and sensory deprivation days were silly things. This is optional. It’s a choice.”
“Choice. Right.” She smoothed her hair and cleared her throat to make a good show of determination, but she was probably really close to peeing on the floor. “What does yours say?” she asked, voice shaky.
I slid it out and tossed my balled-up envelope into the bowl. “Cherry or Bomb. I have no idea what either of these mean. They’re way more vague than yours.” Putting on my bracelet, I searched for the RINGMASTER. I spotted a guy in a long red coat and top hat on a couch in a room that made the term “great room” used in other homes seem facetious and laughable. The large space was a jaw-dropping 20'x40' at least, the perfect size for the handful of BDSM zones it housed in various sitting areas and around a baby grand.
The two felines hanging on the circus freak were chewing on his ears and digging into his pants, and I could see the erection trying to escape the tight, white fabric encasing it, as well as their wrestling strokes to be the one to make him lose his juice.
“Come on. Ring dude’s in there,” I said. “Let’s ask
.”
Costumed bodies and furniture filled this S&M nightmare, or dream come true, depending on where one falls on the spectrum. The music was louder in here, though still not ear-splitting, thank goodness. I couldn’t hear Shayna’s footsteps but could feel her shuffling behind me.
In spite of his salacious preoccupation, the RINGMASTER grinned as we walked up. The tigress on his lap, not the lioness, snarled her painted black lips at me. Their pawing hands went still. With all their wild action, I was surprised their makeup wasn’t smudging off on him, but he was totally clean.
I swallowed tightly when he asked, “And your number and choice is?”
I shrugged off my nervousness and said, “I don’t know what this means.” I showed him my card. “Cherry or Bomb? How do I choose? There’s not even a hint there as to what I might be picking.”
“It’s the risk you take, sweetheart.”
“Okay, say I choose, Cherry. What happens next?”
“A station attendant will tell you everything you need to know. Wait for your number to be called, which should be in about ten minutes. Is that your choice?”
I cringed. “Uh, I guess. Yeah, sure. What the hell. I’ll choose Cherry.”
He jotted it and my number on the sheet of paper clamped to a clipboard and looked at Shayna who was hiding behind me. “What about you, Rizzo?”
“Thank yooouuu! At least someone gets my costume.”
I sneered. Rizzo? Really? Sandy I could see.
She elbowed me as she stepped out from behind me. She dryly choked out, “Um, Number 21. Double Dipped.”
“Looks like you’re up before your friend, Sweet Cheeks.” He winked at her. “Have fun, ladies.”
The two cats on his lap returned to devouring him, and we spun away to take in the horrors and delights. The first scene to snag my eye was a blindfolded guy standing in the center of the room, hands tied together and pulled up over his head with a rope that attached to a chandler. His pants and underwear hugged his ankles and his hard cock stuck out in front of him. Girls and guys took turns tickling him with scarves, feathers and fingers. He couldn’t otherwise move besides a wiggle here or there. I cringed for him. No freaking way. I’d die. Absolutely die. That was hell right there. To be stripped down and tied up with no way to evade tickles. I hate, hate to be tickled. No thanks. I’d much rather have pain.
It was like a carnival of freaks in here, with people moving from exhibit to exhibit.
“Ohmygosh. He’s naked. I’ve never, uh...” Shayna bent over like a teapot. “Hmph. Don’t you think guys kind of look like dogs. I mean, with the arms like ears, nipples as eyes, belly button nose and a tongue hanging out.”
I laughed. “No, that never crossed my mind, Shaynut. I love physiques in general. Even chubby ones.”
As he squirmed in abject horror, I nodded. Yeah, I’d take pain over that any day. Absolute hell!
And speaking of pain, I was next drawn to a small, tanned girl bound with ropes on an ottoman, her fringed Indian skirt flipped up, bare, red butt exposed. Turquoise feathers splayed from behind a black scarf covering her eyes and mask, and black hair that may or may not have been hers parted at her neck and draped over her shoulders. A tilted-down halogen light on a stand spotlighted her in soft white light. She was trapped in the shape of a bean, legs tucked under.
People took turns spanking her ass with a plethora of objects: paddles, slippers, belts. I was awestruck.
My loins boiled as I watched her bellow out at the parade of implements to cross her cheeks. She shouted out often, but she wasn’t crying, not a single sob, no matter what smashed into her flesh or how hard someone hit her. And I doubted anyone else in the room could detect it because it was oh-so-subtle, but every once in a while, one of her wavy bellows held a trace of something more than a response to pain. They shot out, wrapped in a scant moan of ecstasy. And that’s what had me riveted. She was loving this. I was sure of it. I’d bet my life on it. This was my true sister, and she was so much more controlled than me. One day, I hope I can be this strong. That’s what I wanted a Dom to find, unwrap and release within me. Strength and fortitude. Had she been trained by someone very caring, someone with a stern, firm hand, to take punishment so well? My fingers itched. I licked my lips. As soon as the people thrashing her went elsewhere, I was yanked forward. I zipped over there, as fast as my legs could carry me.
“What are you doing?” Shayna cried out from behind me.
I bent at Indian girl’s side and clutched her head with a spread-open palm. “Have you been a bad girl?” I said gruffly in her ear. My wig curls fell forward and whisked her face. I flicked them back over my shoulder with my other hand. I was so hot and shaking to know I could be right. I had to be. I had never encountered possible kin before.
She shook her head, no, and insisted verbally too, but I doubted that very much and slid my row of fingers between her legs and flat up into the folds of her desire. Liar. She “aaahhed” and pressed her soaked flesh down on my touch.
“Mmm, wrong answer, Pocahontas. You little slut liar. You’re a very bad girl. You’re enjoying every minute of this. And I know … because I’d be loving this too.”
A fresh wave of juice surrounded my fingers.
“Ah-ha. See? I know. You’re such a naughty liar. And now, I’m going to punish you for lying to me and for being such a spank-whore. I’m going to set your ass on fire.”
I rubbed her red cheeks with the softest strokes, reached my hand back and sighed when I crashed my palm into the left one as hard as I could.
She shook and shrilled.
Amazing! I got a sweet taste of what it was like to be someone like Logan. And I liked it! It was beyond delicious. I gritted my teeth and hit the other side.
That time her moan-cry emerged all fuck-me-up alley cat, which drove me wild.
I fired more spanks into her cheeks, alternating from side to side. I hit her faster and harder, falling into a frenzy, and my hand began to sting. I didn’t care. I loved the heat beneath it and the way her flesh bounced each time mine met hers. I was making her shout out all kinds of feral noises and words, and it felt so, so good to be sending this girl to heaven with my palm. I may lean sub, I may crave to be controlled and crushed and reshaped into someone else’s vision because I know a beautiful phoenix will ascend from the rubble when the smoke clears, but I just discovered something new about myself, something I had absolutely no clue about: I’m a switch spanker. What a glorious revelation! Warmth washed over me and was molten by the time it reached my fuck zones. I snatched up a wooden spoon.
Evidently now emerged from the shock I’d surely sent her into, Shayna was shaking as she jerked on my arm. “My god. Are you insane? A wooden spoon? What are you doing to her? Stop! Let her go. We’re up next and have no clue what we’re even in for. How would you like someone to treat you that way? She can’t even move.”
I’d love it, I thought with a burn in my chest. But like any closeted spanko, I said, “You’re right,” and put down the implement. I bent and muttered, “Hottie alert,” in the girl’s ear when I spotted a cute, built guy in a football uniform making his way over. I picked up the spoon again, and he grinned at me when I handed it to him. I glanced at the digital countdown clock by the girl, grabbed his arm and pulled him close to me. “Her time’s almost up. Finger-fuck her juicy, swollen cunt when you’re done giving her the spoon. Don’t leave the poor girl in want.” I laughed as his grin melted into a gawk. Yes! Exactly the reaction I’d hoped for. I did not, however, appreciate the chiding look I got from Shayna when I turned my focus her way.
“What the heck’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of freak?”
“Some kinda, yeah,” I admitted. Whatever. I didn’t give two cents what she thought.
“I’m worrying about going to hell for this, and you’re jumpin’ into a spank-a-thon? Her poor butt. Why on earth would you do that?”
“It looked inviting, and she was right there for the taking. I wanted to
try it. We’re here to have fun. You won’t go to hell, Shay. You don’t believe in fickle salvation that gets canceled out for random reasons. This is being wild for one night. You can always ask for forgiveness, right? And if it is wrong, like you say, ‘grace abounds’. And you could be jumping into a spank-a-thon too, Number 21, on the receiving end, with the almighty Double Dipped pick, whatever the hell that is.”
“Don’t remind me.” She rubbed her own bottom in some empathetic reaction. “Ow. Man, I feel so bad for that girl. There are probably psychos in here getting off on her pain. It’s so twisted how there are actually people in the world who are into that sort of thing, don’t ya think?”
“Twisted indeed.”
And just like that, Shayna’s number came out of the speakers, but she seemed to have missed it.
She looked at me, tears in her eyes, lips quivering. “I always try to be a good girl, but sometimes, I just crave to let go and be wild and I can never do it. I’m in college now. I need to grow up. I’m determined this time.”
“Yeah, go be human for once, Shay. You can go back to being a religious robot tomorrow.” I nodded and smiled at her as she raised her hand and waved, as others before us had done. “Your number was called. You’re up. I think that girl’s looking for you.”
Shayna turned, following my gaze.
After my wave and point, a girl skipped up to her and sang, “Number 21?” When Shayna nodded, she said, “Great. Hi. Come with me.”
I followed after them. She was brought into a smaller bedroom on the first floor, maybe a maid’s room or something. At least she had semi-privacy for whatever was coming her way. The 9'x11' room, with its white and pastel explosion, was dimly lit from the illumination of a Tiffany lamp in the corner. The wall of toys and pain contrasted harshly with the shabby chic décor.
“Number 21, your time is twenty minutes. Thank you for choosing Double Dipped. Anything done to you must be delivered by two people at the same time in synchronicity. Possible activities are toy use, spanking, massage, finger insertion and oral stimulation anywhere. Anal and intercourse are not allowed at this party. Only those approved by a house leader or the RINGMASTER, denoted by red bands, are allowed to engage in oral and mouth kissing, and your doorkeeper, known as Melanie tonight, will screen entrants and monitor activities. Take your panties off please and follow the directions of your guests. You may keep the rest of your clothes on, but know that people are allowed to reach into them or lift them out of the way at will.” She handed Shayna a buzzer to hold in her hand. “At any time, if something is beyond your comfort level, you can exit your session by pressing this, but you must leave the party immediately. Do you understand the rules?”
Red Hot Obsessions: Ten Contemporary Hot Alpha Male Romance Novels Boxed Set Page 208