“You can leave your bra on,” Cassie said reassuringly. “Or your top, if you want. Although it’s better with nothing underneath, of course.”
Sami glanced around. Allie had been naked in front of them on Friday night, and Lucy seemed to be in the habit of shedding her clothes whenever she got the chance. Sami thought back to when she had taken off her shirt during the rope class. After the first embarrassing minute, it actually hadn’t bothered her too much. She took a deep breath. “I think I’ll leave my bra on.”
“Sure.”
Sami slowly pulled her T-shirt over her head, unable to keep from glancing around to see if there was a reaction. Lucy gave her a smile and a thumbs-up. Susan didn’t even glance in her direction.
It was oddly freeing, being half-naked and realizing that no one was shocked or scandalized. Cassie held up the top and laced it on her, explaining how it was handmade and could be customized in many different colors and patterns.
“You look really sexy!” Lucy called. “Are you going to buy one?”
“Heavens, no,” Sami said, then caught herself. “Sorry, Cassie.”
“No problem. Go take a look in the mirror. I’m just here so you guys can get an idea of what’s available.” Cassie shooed her away and began laying out more pieces.
“I want one, I want one!” Lucy barely looked at the corset that Madame Theresa had just tied her into before she went running over to the chain-mail outfits.
Sami stood in front of the mirror, amazed. She would never have believed it, but the top was actually very cute. It flattered her chest and tapered down to her waist, drawing attention to skin and breast, not stomach. Her extra few pounds didn’t really seem to matter that much. She turned to get a side view, gazing at herself. Could she ever actually wear fetish clothing?
* * * *
“More?” Crash stared in dismay at the boot in his hand.
“Way more. You’ve still got dull spots here and here and here.” Brad pointed, then gave him an encouraging smile. “Nobody ever said bootblacking was easy. It’s not difficult, exactly, but it is an art. As my mentor Big J used to say when I would complain, ‘Work it out.’ Leather care is very important in the BDSM community.”
They were in the main section of the barn, sitting around a table. In front of each of them were little bottles of leather soap, conditioner, something called Huberd’s shoe grease, polish, small bowls of water, and piles of cloths. Brad had been showing them the proper way to clean and polish their boots while Karl messed with photography equipment in the background.
“As Doms you’ll probably want to wear leather most of the time to the club or events.” Brad stopped, raising his eyebrows. “Are you both Doms? Or is one of you—”
“No!” Crash looked up, then realized that everyone had turned toward him with startled expressions. It must have come out a little more vehemently than he’d realized. He forced his voice back into a more casual tone. “I mean, no. We’re both Doms. Or we would be. If we—But we’ve never—I mean—” He stopped and looked to AJ for help.
AJ laughed. “He means that we haven’t ever actually done a scene. But I don’t think either one of us would make a very good submissive.”
“It’s important to know what you’re interested in,” Brad said. “I suspect you’re not being fair, AJ, when you say you wouldn’t make good submissives. Being the ‘bottom’ in a scene is not quite the same thing as being submissive, for one thing. A scene is done to produce specific sensations or experiences, and even Dominants sometimes enjoy being on the receiving end. But the term ‘Dominant’ is a little misleading in itself. Everybody is submissive to someone at some time, right? You’re both willing to listen to the coach when he tells you what to do, I assume.”
“Usually.” Crash nodded.
“Well, that’s being submissive. You recognize the authority of certain people, like your coach, quarterback, team owners, the police. If you can’t deal with authority, then you’d make a terrible Dominant. You have to be able to understand and respect hierarchy and be able to use it for everybody’s benefit. Even submissives are dominant at times. For example, sky is a submissive. But you’d better not mess with her establishment or you’ll see for yourself how aggressive she can be when necessary.”
AJ nodded. “I get that. You have to understand both positions. Otherwise it’d be like trying to coach without knowing what it’s like for the players.”
“Yes.” Brad picked up Crash’s other boot and began working on it. He obviously wasn’t used to sitting around while other people worked.
“So I have a question.” Crash had been steeling himself for this moment ever since Brad had told them at lunch that they would be doing a bootblack class while the ladies discussed costuming.
“Okay.”
“How does it work with both of you and Allie?” Crash squinted at his handiwork, trying to avoid eye contact. He never liked talking about women with other guys. It usually ended up as a bragfest, with Crash feeling like an incompetent idiot who couldn’t get a woman to save his life. Crash could swagger around and thump his chest with the best of them when it came to sports or drinking, but when women were involved he tended to shrivel up like an ant under a magnifying glass.
He had a feeling Brad wouldn’t be competitive like that, though. The guy was really mellow and laid back. It was a refreshing change from most of the guys on the team. He seemed to know some really cool stuff, too. Crash found he was really getting into this bootblacking. He wanted badly to do it right, so he’d been watching Brad closely to try to imitate his technique.
AJ didn’t seem to be as enthusiastic about what they were doing. He scowled at the boot in his hand, but his vigorous rubbing had slowed a little, as if he was distracted by the conversation but didn’t want to show it.
“It works pretty well,” Brad said. “I was kind of skeptical at first, but once we got over some of the initial awkward parts, it’s turned out to be a really good thing. One of the hardest things is getting used to the idea that one person may not be able to meet all of your partners’ needs. It’s okay for someone to have interests that can only be met by other people. As long as it’s all open and honest, it can really take a lot of the internal pressure off a relationship.”
“True. Besides, I could see that it’d be useful to have another income,” Roy said from Crash’s other side. “The way Lucy goes through money, it’d be worth having to buy a bigger bed. But then we’re swingers anyway, so it doesn’t bother me having another guy fuck her.”
“I’ve been trying to talk Susan into swinging for years,” Greg put in. “She might be willing to do it herself, but I think she’d freak out if I actually touched anybody else.”
Crash stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Brad. “Don’t you—I don’t know. Fight over her?”
Brad smiled. “No, we don’t fight. I think in a complicated relationship like this, it’s important to have a hierarchy. Karl is the boss in our household, but that’s mostly because he is the best at looking at the big picture and balancing all of our needs. We all have our own roles and our own place in the structure. It keeps things on an even keel.”
Crash resisted the urge to say that he wouldn’t mind a roll of his own right then, and instead concentrated on what Brad was saying.
“What I like best about poly is the fact that you can’t hide from your own shit,” Brad went on. “When you’re a couple, you can get into this ‘I’m not the problem, you are’ crap. Everything is the other person’s fault. When there are three of you, it’s a lot harder to get away with that. You’re forced to be a little more honest with yourself. The power exchange is kind of similar. I like the feeling of being accountable for doing what I’ve said I would do and being able to hold my partners accountable for their promises, too. It’s a good arrangement.”
“But what about sex?”
“That’s kind of a personal question, Crash.” AJ gave him a warning look, but Brad laughed.
“Yeah.” Crash glanced at AJ again. They’d been best friends for a long time but had never considered sharing a woman before now. Crash knew if AJ and Tammy got married, he’d be out in the cold. Tammy had made no secret of the fact that she didn’t like him. If AJ and Buffy got together, though, they might not exclude him. He tried to picture the three of them hanging out, maybe even living together. Instead of seeing AJ and Buffy as a couple, though, he kept getting an image of the three of them huddled together like in the rope class when they had almost fallen over. He saw Buffy standing between them, protected and cherished and loved. Was there a chance something like that could work?
Roy and Greg began a conversation about the merits of swinging and different nudist resorts in the state. Greg sounded wistful as he asked Roy about their experiences.
AJ didn’t look like he appreciated the topic at all. There was a grim expression on his face, and he was back to scrubbing at his boot with forceful determination. Crash sighed, turning back to his own. It had sounded like a good idea to him, but AJ’s face made it clear that he didn’t approve of the arrangement at all.
Chapter 9
“Allie, can I talk to you?”
Allie jumped a little at the sound of her name being hissed from the direction of the doorway. She turned to see the edge of Crash’s head peeking around the corner to the living room, as if he was trying to avoid being seen. It kind of made sense. The women were still trying on corsets and chain-mail tops, and any guy who wasn’t used to the openness of the leather community would assume he wasn’t allowed in. It made her like him more.
“Of course, Crash. Girls, do you mind if a guy comes in?” Allie looked around the room, gauging the reactions. She knew Lucy would be ecstatic for a chance to show off her enhanced tits, but Sami and Susan were another story.
Susan was decent, having just been cinched into a dark-blue corset. She barely looked up from her discussion of the material with Madame Theresa.
Sami, on the other hand, had finally been persuaded to take off her bra and try on a purple underbust corset. She had put a short chain-mail top over it, but it was a loose weave, and her nipples were clearly visible. Her eyes got wide and alarmed, but Lucy, standing next to her, called out, “Of course not! The more the merrier!”
Crash stepped into the room, and Lucy dragged Sami over to stand in front of him. He had already been visibly nervous, and when he saw Sami’s outfit, they both turned matching shades of beet red. Sami made an attempt to put a hand over her chest, but that seemed to make her even more embarrassed, and she dropped it again, squirming awkwardly. Crash’s mouth gaped open as he and Sami stared at each other.
“Doesn’t she look just gorgeous?” Lucy gushed, displaying her reluctant protégé for his approval.
“I—Um—Yeah, absolutely. You look hot.” Crash seemed to be having trouble with his vocal chords. He choked and sputtered a little, obviously trying and failing to tear his gaze away from the purple garment. Sami seemed rooted to the spot as well, although there appeared to be a definite chance she might pass out if any more blood rushed into her head.
It was apparent that if Allie was ever going to find out what Crash had wanted, it would be necessary to get him out of sight of Sami and her breasts. Touching him on the arm, she said, “Do you want to go out in the hall and talk?”
“Not really, but I guess that would be a good idea.” He nodded, his eyes not leaving Sami. Allie got him turned around by brute force and walked him out of the room. As he went, his head swiveled like an owl, trying to keep Sami’s breasts in sight. He was so distracted that Allie had to keep him from walking into the opposite wall.
“What did you want to talk to me about, Crash?” Allie asked gently, resisting the urge to snap her fingers in front of his face.
“Oh. Um. I wanted to ask you a favor.” He shook his head and seemed to refocus on her, now that Sami was out of sight.
“Here, why don’t we get a cup of coffee and a snack and you can tell me what you need?”
“Snack?” he repeated, his face lighting up. “Yeah, favors always go better with brownies.”
She took him into the kitchen, repeating that they were welcome to come in and get snacks whenever they wanted. She’d assumed the football players were bound to be big eaters, so she’d been sure to leave plates of cookies and bags of chips out on the table. He didn’t really seem to be taking advantage of it, though. Maybe they were in training or something and had to watch what they ate. Or was that wrestlers?
“Would you like some coffee? There are cookies on the table. Sorry, no brownies, but I can try to make some this afternoon.” He always ate his dessert, she mused. He nodded, and she poured him a cup. He thanked her, eating three cookies while doctoring the coffee with cream and several spoonfuls of sugar.
“She looked really good in there, didn’t she?” Crash looked a little sheepish. Allie warmed toward him some more. At first she’d thought that Crash was a complete moron who wouldn’t see past the fact that the women in her community weren’t the skinny cheerleader types. The more she got to know him, though, the more she could see the sweet, insecure guy underneath the muscleman exterior. She gave him her warmest smile.
He sighed, staring down at the table. “I looked like an idiot, though. I always do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I, uh, get a little nervous around girls sometimes. Especially sexy half-naked ones like Buffy.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed it affect you like that before.”
“It gets worse around a girl I like. Buffy is really cool and so pretty. Then when I went there and saw…” His voice trailed off, and he ducked his head.
“It’s okay, Crash. She is a beautiful woman, if a little shy. You had something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“I need to ask you a favor,” Crash said again, swallowing another cookie.
“Sure. What is it?”
“It’s about—” He flushed bright red again. “About the outfits in there.”
“I’m not sure they have one in your size.” She watched to see if her joke might ease his nervousness a little.
It didn’t. “What? No. That’s not what I meant,” he stammered.
“I know, Crash,” she said gently, patting his hand. “I was just teasing. So what about them?”
“I was wondering if you would arrange something for me. For us, really, me and AJ. We know that Buffy doesn’t have any good outfits for the play parties next weekend, and we were wondering if you would kind of watch what she likes and buy something for her. I’ll pay you back, with a bonus. We don’t want her to know about it. We’d like to have them delivered to her on Friday afternoon so she has time to get ready for the parties but not so much that she has an opportunity to talk herself out of wearing them. Is that something you can do?”
Allie gave an involuntary glance toward the living room. Madame Theresa had pointed out several styles to Sami that would be very flattering. She needed to talk to the corsetiere right away so she could make notes about the right size, color, and style. Then there was the chain-mail top. Cassie would probably know which ones had suited her best. She nodded at Crash, patting his hand.
“That’s really sweet of the two of you. Let me know how much you want to spend and I’ll work it all out. Do you have any preferences?”
He gulped audibly. “I wouldn’t know. What she had on was pretty nice. We don’t care how much they cost. We just want her to have some nice outfits that
she likes.”
They both looked back toward the living room as the sound of Lucy’s laughter floated out to them.
Allie could sense that he wasn’t used to asking for favors. She went to get a bag of regular potato chips from what Brad thought of as his secret stash in the hall closet. “Here. Have a snack. I’ll go back in there and see what I can do.”
* * * *
Sami was finally able to get out of the costuming session and escape to her room. She would never have guessed that an afternoon of trying on clothes would be so tiring. It would have been extremely tempting to sneak out earlier and go hide, but the fact that she was one of only three female guests would have made it much too obvious.
Lucy had decided, after making her own purchases, to treat Sami like her own personal Barbie doll. Allie had joined in, surprisingly, bringing over corset after corset for her to try on, asking Theresa’s advice about what kind of skirt to wear with each, and insisting that she be measured as if she was actually buying the stuff. After a while, even Susan had loosened up a bit and come over to make suggestions. It had been a little overwhelming. She’d tried to tell them that she couldn’t possibly afford new outfits, leaving out the part that she seriously doubted she’d ever have another opportunity to wear these styles, anyway.
“Nobody expects you to purchase anything,” Allie had assured her cheerfully. “We’re just playing. Now, which of these colors would you get if you actually were ordering something?”
She climbed the stairs almost wearily, thinking of the Agatha Christie in her nightstand and wondering whether she should collapse in her room or go find a sunny spot outside. Maybe a nice, hot bath. Followed by a nap.
“Just the person I wanted to see!” The staircase suddenly shook with pounding footsteps behind her, and she instinctively grasped the railing. AJ appeared at her side a moment later, grinning. It was the first time she’d seen him look completely happy since she’d met him. He had always had an air of apprehension, as if he wasn’t completely sure why he was here and if he was about to get kicked out. But now he looked positively cheerful.
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