Luke looked her in the eyes, his smile fading slightly. “No, you should never be worried when I’m with you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. Do you trust me?”
She regarded him for half a second before answering. There was no doubt in her mind.
“Implicitly.”
Chapter 12
“You’re fidgeting,” Luke observed lightly as they walked up the laneway. Emma looked at him incredulously, trying to keep up with his long gait.
“I can’t imagine why,” she offered breathlessly, deliciously tormented by the slim shaft shifting inside of her with every step. Luke turned his head and looked at her, his expression revealing his glee. He knew the toy was having its way with her, making her feel aroused and vulnerable all at once. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, utterly and helplessly tuned in to her libido. She couldn’t ignore her arousal, her desperate need, even if she tried. She wondered if that was the point.
“Try to keep up, will ya?” he teased, placing an arm gently around her waist. Although his touch was purely platonic she jumped, as though a volt of electricity shot through her, every cell in her body heightened and alert. He chuckled, ushering her up the old stone staircase toward the house.
It was a beautiful, Tudor inspired, old, stone mansion with incredible rose bushes adorning the gardens on either side of the stairs. She could only imagine how stunning it would be in the daylight, if it was this spectacular at night. The house was well lit, elegant and inviting, and Emma couldn’t imagine that anything torrid or naughty was going on inside. It looked like a place that held cotillions and welcomed debutants of high society and for a moment she wondered if Luke had lost his mind.
“What is this place?” she asked, hesitating on the stairs.
“Shhh, you’ll see. Just stay beside me,” he encouraged, taking her hand, “Oh, I almost forgot, put this on.”
He handed her a velvet mask and helped her gently slip it into place. She had to admit, as soon as her face was disguised she felt a lot better. She liked the anonymity it offered her. Tonight she could be herself, free herself. The irony was not lost on her.
“You look mysterious and sexy,” Luke complimented, his eyes lingering on her, “ready?”
“No,” she whispered, nodding her head yes. She smiled at him and took the hand he offered, allowing him to lead her inside.
“One more thing...” he said, turning back, “if anyone asks, I’m going to tell people you’re with me. This will give you time to process everything. If you want to participate, let me know. I’ll take care of everything else. Ok?”
Emma took a deep breath, summoning her courage. She had no idea what she was walking into and felt her heart thrumming inside her chest. As adrenalin coursed through her veins, her womb pulsated with every beat of her heart, the sensation only intensified by the dildo inside her, tightly gripped by her swollen labia. The feeling was sublime. She sighed heavily, feeling she might cum at any moment.
They were greeted by a butler of sorts, a good looking man wearing a very expensive suit, except that his mouth was covered by a piece of duct tape, presumably so that he wouldn’t speak. Luke handed him an invitation and they were escorted inside. Once they were out of earshot, Luke explained to her that the duct tape was to give the houseguests a sense of security, that whatever happened at the party would stay at the party. They were all bound by that. Emma nodded, curiously drawn to the strangeness of the whole experience.
They were led through the house and down the basement stairs by a slender young woman, a submissive wearing a white pleather body suit. She also had duct tape over her lips. Every inch of her, from her chin down, was covered including white gloves on her hands, yet every curve and line on her body was pronounced, as though the suit were a second skin. In Emma’s opinion, the fact that you couldn’t see any flesh at all was a million times more provocative than if the girl wore next to nothing. Her suit had a zipper that went from the neck all the way down through her legs and then up the other side so that when unzipped, the garment would easily separate into two pieces. If it was designed to trigger the imagination, it certainly did its job. Emma glanced at Luke, expecting him to be eyeing the pretty submissive up and down but he was looking straight ahead, his face serious and determined. He held her hand tightly as they walked down the stairs.
“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his breath hot in her ear. She nodded her reply, happy to follow his command and allow herself the luxury to simply observe.
The expansive room was not like a basement at all. It was dimly lit but she could see that the area was well supplied with comfortable couches and chairs, most of which were filled with spectators of all shapes, sizes, ages and ethnicities. Some people were dressed in fetish wear but most were in street clothes like herself and Luke. Aside from the soft music playing it was quiet. It was as though everyone in the room somehow respected that it was a sacred space, much the way a congregation respects the church. Aside from the furniture, the room boasted a variety of different contraptions designed to bind a consenting submissive into vulnerable positions where they could be tied down and easily accessed by their captors. A combination of groans, soft moans and whispers, drowned out by the occasional thwap of a paddle or swoosh from a flogger, added to the strange, erotic energy of the space.
It all seemed strangely beautiful, and certainly unusual to Emma, but one thing was clear; all these people congregating together under that roof were living their lives the way they wanted to. They were there because they were seduced by a powerful need to express themselves in a way that fulfilled each of them at their deepest levels, in a way that society would never completely accept or understand. Here, they didn’t have to hide or apologize for who they were. That was alluring.
“Come, let’s get a drink at the bar,” Luke insisted, resting his hand on the small of her back. He coaxed her through the crowd, skirting their way in and around obstacles. She could feel many curious eyes on her. Normally she would shrink from the attention, tutored well by Andrew over the years to never make eye contact with people, especially men, for fear of a later reprimand. Instead, she felt empowered. She met their gazes fearlessly, comforted by the safety of her mask, and Luke.
“Beer,” he ordered when they arrived the bar. As soon as the bottles were set in front of them, he handed one to Emma and took one for himself, enjoying a long swig before speaking again.
He took his time explaining to her the etiquette of the lifestyle, how roles and rules were important and taken very seriously. Safety was paramount, and consent was never implied. It was important to address people the way they wanted to be addressed, to show respect for a person’s position whether they were a dominant or a submissive, a top or a bottom, and above all else, the importance of the safe word. He explained to her how it was considered rude, for example, to speak to a submissive without permission from their dominant. It all seemed quite complicated to Emma, and she worried she might inadvertently offend someone.
“You look confused,” Luke observed, “speak to me.”
“This is an interesting party. I never imagined that so many people were into all of this...” she said, finding her voice once more, discreetly gesturing around to the room.
“Yes, and even more so now that ’50 Shades’ has hit the mainstream. That book made its way into a lot of hands and shook up a lot of sex lives, but that’s the way these things happen sometimes.
“What’s ’50 Shades’?”
“Fifty Shades of Grey? Erotic novel, made into a movie? About a young woman invited to be a submissive by a tortured, dominant man?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders. She’d never heard of it but it sounded intriguing. Luke shook his head in mock disbelief and chuckled warmly.
“I’d ask if you were living under a rock, but we both know the answer,” he teased, taking another swig from his beer. “I can only imagine what Andy would have said if he found you reading that spicy piece of literature.�
�
“I don’t even want to think about it,” Emma said, shifting her stance from one foot to the other, her libido still highly charged.
She took a sip of her beer and looked around the room. Some of what she saw was actually quite erotic, and some of it was well outside her comfort zone. Everything from gentle spankings to full on floggings. She thought that it must be painful and told Luke so, but he assured her that if done well, it could be quite erotic. Toeing the line between pleasure and pain could be quite seductive, he said, and from the expressions on the faces displayed before her she didn’t have any cause to doubt him. She had to admit, she was intrigued and wondered what it would be like to experience that kind of kinky seduction herself. Would it appeal to her? Perhaps, with the right partner.
Emma felt someone’s eyes on her and cautiously looked over her shoulder. She saw several couples talking quietly amongst themselves, not particularly interested in anything but their own conversation. She slowly panned the room, certain that it was just nervous energy triggering her intuition. Then she saw him.
He was a nice looking man, older than her, with a strong build. He was dressed in a very expensive grey suit which complimented him perfectly, and with a full head of salt and pepper hair he appeared distinguished and confident. A quintessential silver fox.
He was leaning against the wall, his left hand resting loosely in the pocket of his slacks, his suit jacket unbuttoned, revealing a toned body underneath. He smiled kindly, nodding his head to acknowledge her. Emma smiled back nervously, not quite sure how to respond.
In spite of her curiosity, she turned back to Luke, whose attention seemed to be on a scene unfolding in the middle of the room. A woman, maybe in her early thirties, was sitting in a chair, her arms bound behind her back. Her unbuttoned blouse hanging loosely off her shoulders exposing everything from the waist up. She was blindfolded and her long blond hair was pinned loosely in a bun on the top of her head. She appeared to be completely at ease, almost trance-like, while a man teased her flesh with different objects; a feather, tassels of silk, a leather flogger, and some sort of mitten that looked like fur. He was stroking her methodically and tenderly while whispering in her ear, occasionally biting her neck or pinching her nipples, drawing out tortured moans from her.
Although it seemed quite voyeuristic, Emma couldn’t pull her eyes away, completely aroused by the scene.
“What they’re doing is called sensation play,” Luke whispered in her ear, “it can be tender but it’s also a lesson in submission, a power exchange between the top and the bottom.”
“It’s making me fucking hot...” Emma blurted before she could filter herself. She turned to look at him, raising a hand to her mouth, momentarily embarrassed by her admission.
“It can do that to you,” Luke laughed, his eyes showing no sign of surprise.
“Sorry, that was meant to stay in my head,” she blushed, turning her head away, “I guess when I’m with you I just feel so brave, so exceptional.”
Luke laughed softly beside her, encouraging her to turn back to him. He looked at her warmly for a moment or two before saying, “that’s funny, because when I’m with you, I often feel the same way.”
His words surprised her. Luke always seemed to have so much confidence and almost never needed validation of any sort, unlike her ex who needed constant adulation. She looked at him curiously, drawing a shrug from him.
“So is this your thing, Luke?” Emma asked, her eyes returning to the scene in front of her.
“My thing? Hmmm...I wouldn’t say that. I have, on occasion, enjoyed exploring the lifestyle but I’m not hard-core or anything,” he admitted. “It’s been a while.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Emma asked curiously, turning to meet his eyes again. “You asked for the tour, this is part of it,” he offered casually. She nodded softly, accepting his answer.
“So have you ever participated...”
“In a scene?” he asked, finishing her sentence. She nodded, surprised by how turned on she was by the thought of it. She blamed it on the chastity belt.
“Sure,” was all he offered.
“Like this one?” she asked, gesturing back to the woman in the chair.
“Sometimes, yes. Sometimes more.”
She looked at him curiously, wondering exactly what kinds of scenes he enjoyed. Would she enjoy being out there, coloring outside the lines too? Exposing herself? Being vulnerable and lovingly dominated? It was intriguing she had to admit, but also terrifying. Curiously, both of those thoughts seemed to have the same juicy effect on her libido.
Emma was quiet for a moment, her thoughts swirling with possibilities while trying to process everything around her. She looked up at Luke and grinned.
“What?” he asked with a suspicious smirk, regarding her carefully.
“Nothing,” she shrugged.
“Seriously, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I’m just wondering if you’re a top or a bottom? A spanker or the spankee...” she chuckled, teasing a grin out of him.
“What do you think?” he smirked again, leaning back against the bar.
“Hmmm, I just don’t know, it could go either way I think,” she said playfully, mining for a reaction.
“Do I need to turn you over my knee and show you?” he growled, his wink challenging her.
Emma giggled and gave him a playful shove, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Luke looked her up and down, a smile slowly forming on his lips, hesitating as if momentarily speechless. Emma thought for a second she might have taken their teasing too far, made him uncomfortable, until he finally spoke up.
“No,” he smirked, nodding his head yes, his brows raised impishly.
Emma laughed, “You horn-dog.”
“You know it,” he shrugged, taking another deep swallow of beer.
Emma turned back in the direction of where the man she had noticed earlier was standing. He was still there, speaking to a woman who appeared to be propositioning him. His body language was less casual than it had been earlier, standing straight with his shoulders back, arms crossed comfortably across his chest. He was tall, over 6 feet for certain. He glanced in her direction but Emma quickly averted her eyes before he could catch her looking again.
“Luke,” she whispered, gently touching his forearm, “do you know who that man is? By the door over there?”
Luke looked in the direction she indicated. He shrugged his shoulders passively and grinned.
“Yes, I do. That’s Arran Barlow, English guy. He’s an ok fellow, I guess. I’ve seen him here and there.”
Emma stole a quick look over Luke’s shoulder, curious to see him again now that she knew his name. He was actually better looking and quite possibly younger than she had first given him credit for.
“Do you want to meet him?” Luke asked, shifting himself as if to walk toward the man. Emma felt her heart quicken in her chest, both excited and anxious all at once.
“Luke!” Emma blurted, pulling him back towards her.
“What? Come on, It’s just an introduction,” he urged gently, his eyes meeting hers, comforting her. She bit her lip, nodded at him, and he took her hand before she could change her mind.
They crossed the room to where Arran was standing. He looked up at them as they approached, his eyes playfully landing on Emma. He looked pleased that they were coming over and gently placed a hand on the shoulder of the woman speaking to him, kindly ending their conversation. She was gone before Emma and Luke approached him.
“Arran,” Luke greeted him the way men do when they are measuring one another, confident, cocky, and cool, assertively offering his hand to shake. Arran accepted the gesture, smiling warmly while he pumped Luke’s hand.
“Luke, nice to see you again,” he said, his strong English accent smooth as butter. He stared warmly at Emma, as though waiting for an introduction. He was definitely younger than she had originally thought, perhaps just a few years old
er than she and Luke. His silver hair, boasting an expensive, stylish cut, made his blue eyes stand out dramatically. He was quite stunning and smelled delicious, his spicy aftershave perfuming the air between them. It was the same cologne that Luke always wore, she observed curiously, Obsession by Calvin Klein.
“Who is this enchantress?” Arran teased, taking Emma’s hand and raising it to his lips. He gently kissed her knuckles. A girlish giggle slipped through her lips before she could catch herself. His accent added considerably to his appeal, making him almost irresistible.
“This is my good friend Mimi Maguire,” Luke said using her maiden name. He placed a hand on the small of her back, perhaps for reassurance.
“Lovely,” he purred, squeezing her hand gently before releasing it back to her. “Arran Barlow. I haven’t seen you before.”
“No,” she admitted, grateful that she was able to find her voice quickly, “Up until recently I was a married woman. I’m just getting reacquainted with the single life.”
“Now who would be foolish enough to let you go?” Arran teased, his eyes bright with curiosity. Emma smiled at him sweetly, grateful for the flirtatious compliment.
“Exactly,” Luke jumped in, looking back and forth between them, as though assessing their attraction.
“Are you together?” Arran asked thoughtfully, reading Luke’s face carefully.
Emma shook her head slowly, as Luke quickly chimed in, “No, no. We’re just good friends. I’m here looking out for her, keeping undesirables away.” He grinned and offered Arran a look that made Emma wonder if there had been some unspoken signal between them.
“Well then, I appreciate the introduction. Glad I made the cut,” Arran teased, looking back at Emma. “I really wish I could stay and get to know you better, Mimi, but sadly I was just leaving before you came over. I have a conference call from Dubai in less than an hour, time zone difference you see. I really need to head back to my office. Hopefully we’ll meet again?”
Billionaire's Playmate Page 48