Camellia

by Cari Z.

  Still trying to catch her breath, she stumbled out of the bathroom with her fluffy robe wrapped around her and barely managed to keep her forgotten, mostly full teacup from spilling over as she landed on the bed. Happiness-inducing chemicals swam through her body, keeping the fantasy that Danny had just come to from shocking her as much as she felt it should have. She wasn't big on pain, and for her extreme sex was pretty much just about wearing a strap-on and calling her lover a dirty girl once in a while. At least, that was how it had always been before meeting Lucy.

  Danny had a good idea that some things would be changing about her idea of sex tomorrow morning. She shivered—with cold, she told herself, not anticipation. It was just the cold.

  While Lucy would've liked to have called Danny down to the curb the next morning so that Lucy could wait for her in the comfort of her warm car, good manners dictated that she go to the door. Her high-heeled boots caught and held traction on the icy concrete as she stepped out of her Aston Martin. The car was red and sleek, but looked nearly purple in the early morning light. Beautiful, even if the wheel wells were somewhat caked with ice. Poor thing; she'd have to park it indoors once they got to the convention center and get it professionally cleaned once the weather dried out some. Danny's house was between Camellia and the convention, so though Danny had offered in an email to meet her there, Lucy had decided to come get her.

  Lucy rang the bell as soon as she stepped in front of Danny's front door. Muffled yelling immediately erupted inside the house. She raised her eyebrows and stepped back, waiting for the door to open as the unseen game of who-was-going-to-answer commenced.

  Eventually the winner opened the door. Lucy was relieved to see it was Danny, although she had to hold onto the edge of the door with both hands to keep from being crowded forward. "Hi," she said a little breathlessly. She wore a pair of skinny jeans and low, dark heels on her feet, just as Lucy had recommended. Her form-fitting sweater accentuated her sensuous curves, and her hair was loose around her shoulders, smooth and shining.

  "I just have to get my jacket, it's downstairs," Danny continued, kicking back sharply with one foot. The young man behind her reeled away, swearing.

  "Aren't you gonna invite your friend in?" a man called from inside the house.

  "Daddy, this is my boss," Danny called back. "And we're going to leave in just a second, so …"

  "Then she can get in out of the cold for just a second," the man said firmly. Danny shrugged and stepped aside.

  "I'll be fast, I promise," she said softly as she waved Lucy inside and shut the door behind her, but not before the young man who had been crowding her got a look outside.

  "I knew it was something like that!" he crowed, going over to the window and looking out. "Holy shit, that's a what, a DB9? Two thousand and … ten?"

  "Two thousand and nine," Lucy replied, glancing discreetly around the lounge. The floor was carpeted with something that had probably once been champagne colored, but was now more of a dirty dishwater tan. A few empty beer cans were scattered around the floor next to the well-worn sofa and recliner, leaving the air smelling a bit malty.

  Seated in the recliner was an older man, undoubtedly Danny's father, who looked at Lucy like he didn't know exactly what to make of her. Fair enough—Lucy felt rather the same toward him. He was as homely as his daughter was enchanting, heavyset and stubble-faced, and the bathrobe he wore was practically indecent. For a certain standard of decency, of course.

  "Care to sit down?" he offered.

  "No, thank you, I'm quite comfortable standing."

  "Right, right." They looked at each other in silence for a moment. "So, you're the lady with the job," he said at last.

  "Quite."

  "Modeling clothes, I guess?" he asked, gesturing at Lucy's outfit. She was in what she considered to be one of her tamer ensembles: a vintage Dior twill suit that had belonged to her mother, paired with ankle boots and a Merino wool, single-breasted coat.

  "Yes," Lucy replied briefly. She felt extra eyes on her and looked over at the door to what was likely the kitchen, where a young and very pregnant woman peeped around the doorframe at her. Lucy smiled at the girl, who ducked back around the corner. A sister, perhaps?

  "Oh my god, your car," the young man—more of a boy, really, as he couldn't be much older than twenty—moaned. "I would trade my right nut to get a good look at its engine."

  "Might as well trade them both, since you're not using them," Danny quipped as she barreled back up the stairs she'd disappeared down, her leather jacket slung over her arm and a small duffel bag in her hand.

  "Shut up." The boy turned to Lucy. "You want to trade my sister for your car? 'Cause I think all of us here would prefer to have the car."

  "Clint!" Danny yelled, flushing with emotion—embarrassment, anger? Either way, Lucy disliked seeing Danny so perturbed.

  "I'm afraid nothing I own is remotely as precious as your sister," Lucy said coolly. "And," she added, dialing up her British aloofness, "I greatly disapprove of casually referring to human beings as commodities, so I'm afraid I could never do business with you, anyhow. Are you ready, Danny?"

  "More than," Danny muttered, heading for the door.

  "You gonna be home tonight, honey?" her father asked, glancing at the bag.

  "I'm not sure yet," Danny said slowly. She glanced at Lucy, as if asking for guidance, but before Lucy could speak up she continued, "I'll call either way. Have a good day at work, Daddy."

  "Yeah, you too, honey."

  "The car," her brother whined as they headed out. "Danny, you have to take—!" She slammed the door before he could finish the sentence.

  "Jesus. Sorry about that," Danny said as they picked their way down the icy steps to the front walk. "Clint can be such a jackass."

  "Your younger brother, I take it?" Lucy asked.

  "The youngest. There's another one between me and him, and an older one, but they're both off opening up the shop," Danny explained, sliding into the passenger side. "Oh, wow," she said as she shut the door. "Oh my god." She ran her hands over the sumptuous chocolate brown leather of the dashboard, settling into the seat with a decadent sigh. "This really is amazing."

  "Thank you," Lucy said, starting the car. Danny actually moaned as the engine purred to life, which was simply unfair. "I like it."

  "I can see why. You must feel like a female James Bond in this thing."

  "Oh, but James is such a one-dimensional scoundrel. I prefer to think of myself as M," Lucy replied with a smile.

  "No, you have to be James Bond. He drives the Aston Martin, he wears the gorgeous clothes, he always gets the girl …" Danny's voice trailed off, and she blushed again.

  "Well, if I absolutely must be an icon of British culture, I suppose I could do worse," Lucy allowed. Traffic was light this early on a Saturday, and she figured they would reach the convention center in less than fifteen minutes. She consciously relaxed her foot on the gas pedal, not wanting to cut short what might be the only real private time she got with Danny today. "The mug on the right is yours, by the way."

  "Thank you." Danny lifted it straight to her mouth and took a drink, and Lucy appreciated the fact that she hadn't even stopped to ask what Lucy was giving her, she'd just trusted it would be acceptable. "Is this chai?"

  "Black tea chai," Lucy said. "Consider it your coffee substitute. It's high in caffeine, and rather delicious, I think."

  "It's pretty good," Danny agreed. She sipped in silence for a while, and Lucy let the quiet lengthen without discomfort. She didn't have to fill the air with words to enjoy being in someone else's company, and she appreciated that Danny didn't seem to either. Eventually, though, the silence was broken.

  "So," Danny drawled, "if you're not a Bond fan, why an Aston Martin? Is it because you only buy British, or because you like paying super-high insurance premiums to protect yourself from all the idiots on the road here?"

  Lucy smiled. "Neither of those. A few years ago, I came into a rather larg
e inheritance. I didn't need the money, but a friend of mine induced me to spoil myself with something beautiful. I decided on an Aston Martin because it was my father's favorite type of car, and also because sometimes owning something so exceptional is the only bright spot I might have in an otherwise dull day."

  "I'm sure it would brighten my day." Danny chuckled.

  "You'll have to take it out sometime this weekend," Lucy said. "If only to tell your brother all about what he's missing."

  "You know, I didn't think you could make that offer sound any better, and then you did," Danny marveled. "Clint likes the power of a sports car like this, but it's a shame Zach wasn't home to see it. He'd really appreciate it."

  "He sounds like a kindred spirit," Lucy said, pulling into the convention center's underground parking lot. "And here we are. Are you ready to meet Lillian and Natasha?"

  Danny nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

  Lucy stepped out of the car and, once Danny had shut the door behind herself and they'd removed her bags, locked it behind them. This particular convention center was connected to a hotel that promised a level of discretion commensurate with the subject of the convention itself. BDSM, while not as taboo as it had once been, was hardly a lifestyle so accepted by the masses that it could be paraded down a busy street without repercussions.

  Lucy looked at Danny as they made their way to the elevator that led to the lobby and wondered what she was thinking right now, given that Danny had no real experience in the scene. Was she nervous? Would she find it appealing, or appalling?

  Lucy's own introduction to the BDSM lifestyle had been a godsend. She'd been fresh out of college, an educated woman with prospects, but no real sense of purpose. Her father had described her as a boat adrift in the sea of her own privilege. Lucy had kept that description well into her listless twenties, until a woman with a firm hand and a lot of patience taught her about life in an entirely new way. And it had started with a crop, much like the one in the leather satchel tightly grasped in Lucy's left hand.

  The elevator doors opened, and Lucy led Danny over the polished hardwood floor and past gilded Rococo columns to the front desk, where a young woman with tightly braided blonde hair greeted them with a bright smile.

  "Good morning, and welcome to the Sapphire. Checking in for the convention?" she asked Lucy after glancing at their luggage.

  Lucy nodded and handed over her driver's license and credit card. "Lucy Culpepper, although the reservation should be for two."

  After a quick check of her computer, the receptionist nodded and handed her back her cards, along with two key cards for the room. "Ah, here you are. These are your keys to the room. Sign here, and please enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call the concierge."

  Lucy signed and took the cards, handing one to Danny before putting her own in the front pocket of her satchel. They were on the second floor judging by the room number, and Lucy quickly walked up the nearest set of stairs, eager to get out of the lobby. Leather-clad men and women were already queuing up to get their welcome bags and badges, and Lucy didn't want to get drawn into the maelstrom this early in the day.

  Their room was easy to find. It held two double beds, a table and chairs, and the banal art that seemed to be a requirement of hotels everywhere. A lavish bathroom sat just off the entrance, and there was a mini fridge with a sign above it announcing that the beverages inside were complimentary. Lucy bent and pulled a bottle of water out for each of them. Another cup of chai would have gone down better, but if they couldn't have Lucy's tea, then at least they could settle for being well-hydrated.

  "There should be a lock box in the closet and another under your bed, if you wish to utilize them," Lucy said as she pulled the steel box out from under her own bed, stowing her purse in it before swiping the key.

  Danny looked surprised. "Isn't that a bit overkill? Three boxes, I mean?"

  Lucy nodded, supposing that it was. "This hotel has a reputation for its discretion concerning clientele. I presume they anticipate the needs of their patrons and plan accordingly. Natasha and Lillian should be here any moment, so please, put away the things you won't be needing while we're out of the room. My assistant from Camellia is setting up the booth in the main convention area already, and I expect go we'll straight there as soon as Natasha deems us both presentable."

  Danny locked her own purse away, then shrugged her jacket onto the bed and kicked off her heels. After that she started digging into her duffel— probably looking to take things out and hang them up, as it was impossible to keep a proper crease with a soft-sided bag. Lucy opened her own luggage and removed the few items of clothing she knew Natasha wouldn't be providing for the weekend, mostly underwear and her favorite dressing gown, and put them away. She set her toiletries out across only half of the sink so that Danny would feel that she had plenty of room for her own things if she opted to stay the night. Lucy pumped a little of her shea butter moisturizer onto her hands and rubbed it in, frowning at the dryness of her skin. How in this weather she could dehydrate in only a few hours constantly surprised her.

  There was a knock on the door, and Lucy went to answer it while Danny continued to rummage through her duffel. A quick check through the peephole showed just who Lucy expected it to be, and she opened the door, allowing Natasha and Lillian in.

  "Danny, we have company," she told her unnecessarily as Danny straightened up and looked at their guests. Lucy tried to see them from Danny's perspective, instead of as the people she'd known for years. They were both beautiful, but in entirely different ways. Lillian was as close to the perfect slave in temperament as Lucy had ever met. She rarely spoke but was always there, willing to lend herself to her mistress' use without having to be asked. That kind of attitude was beautiful in its simplicity. Her hair was shorter than the last time Lucy had seen them, and the inky black stopped just above the thick gold choker around her neck. Her almond-shaped eyes glanced Lucy's way when the door opened, as close to a greeting as Lillian ever offered anyone without direction from her master.

  Natasha was all fire to Lillian's apparent calm. Her nostrils flared with exertion already as she balanced half a dozen boxes of shoes, craning her head around the pile, her dangling ruby and gold earrings dancing. "Want to give me a hand with these, honey?"

  "Of course," Lucy said, grabbing a few off the top and setting them on her bed. "It's lovely to see you both again."

  "You too, Lucy-Lou. You should come over more often," Natasha replied, her Southern accent seeping through her words as she walked in and set the rest of her load down on the bed.

  They embraced and kissed each other on the cheek, and when Lucy stepped back, Natasha looked over at Danny. "This is the girl you picked?" she asked.

  The choice of a model for the job had been at Lucy's discretion, so there was hardly cause for the flutter in her stomach as Natasha gave Danny a thorough once-over with her eyes. Still, when Natasha turned back to her and gave Lucy a grin, she felt relief uncoil the tightness in her belly.

  "She's beautiful," Natasha said approvingly before going to the chair by the window and laying her pea coat over the back of it.

  Lillian followed behind Natasha, pulling a small rolling suitcase along with her. Natasha nodded toward Lucy's bed, still mostly neat—unlike Danny's, which had her things spilling over it—and Lillian opened the case and began pulling clothes out of it and laying them on the comforter.

  Lucy turned her attention to Natasha, surprised at the lack of embellishment in her outfit of choice for the day. She wore a corset, as was her norm, and though Lillian wore a long jacket over her black slacks, Lucy knew that more likely than not she would be wearing one as well. But, like all things about Natasha, Lucy knew that it was the details that mattered most when it came to her creations, and so she crossed the room and touched Natasha's shoulders, holding her still as Lucy got a closer look.

  What she had thought to be a black corset with swirling gold accents was actually a
deep red; in the unnatural light of the hotel room, it was hard to discern as much. But once she caught that detail, the entire ensemble became entirely different to her. The red went perfectly with Natasha's skin, the color of fine chocolate, and the gold brought out the amber flecks in her brown eyes.

  "This is exquisite," Lucy said, stepping back to give her some space.

  Natasha smiled at her. "If you like this, I think you'll love what I've got in mind for both of you. Bring your girl over to see the lovelies I've come with."

  Lucy wasn't surprised at the way Danny's face became pinched. Before Danny could say anything to embarrass either of them, Lucy put a gentle hand on Natasha's forearm. "Danny is outside of our circle, so please address her by her name."

  Natasha froze for a moment, then sighed heavily. "Oh, good lord. Foot, meet mouth. I apologize, Danny. I hardly have a social life outside of the scene. I shouldn't have assumed you were into it. Won't you come closer, honey? I won't bite and Lillian won't unless I tell her to."

  Lucy held her hand out for to draw Danny close, and though she looked a bit uncertain, after a moment Danny took it. Lucy gave her a soft smile as Danny's palm warmed hers.

  "Thanks, it just startled me a bit. This is still all really new." Danny seemed to fumble for a moment. "But I'll do my best. I've been practicing the tea ceremony a lot this week. It'll go smoothly. Promise."

  Lucy wasn't sure who Danny was trying to convince more, herself or Natasha, but she appreciated the effort at reassurance anyway. "Of course it will," Lucy said.

  "Glad to hear it," Natasha declared, wrapping an arm around Lillian's waist as she moved out of the way. "Lucy, your things are to the head of the bed. Danny, yours are at the foot. I wasn't sure of your measurements, so I brought things that could suit a range of different sizes. Don't wear anything that makes you uncomfortable, go with something you like. I've gotta say, anything of mine that you pick will look good on you." She grinned and reached out to touch Danny's cheek, a common sign of affection from Natasha. Lucy felt Danny tense a little and squeezed Danny's hand reassuringly.