Garrett cleared his throat, “Well, I haven’t actually met Mistress Melody in person,” he admitted. “But I have chatted with her quite a bit online. She’s kinda famous for these parties; they’re like a mecca for the kinky and freaky. Basically anyone with an open mind is encouraged to attend. Almost anything consensual goes. I guess they usually have a pretty good turnout. Plus she has an amazing venue. I’ve seen pictures.”
Sarah felt her face flush as she instantly regretted not finding out more information about the event. Garrett’s description sounded sort of vague, and Sarah could tell by looking that Jack and Rachel were reticent. “I’m sure it will be great,” she brightened, attempting to console everyone. “I trust Garrett’s taste in people...and, come on, if anyone can make a party fun, it’s you and me, Rachel.” She winked.
Rachel laughed, “Of that I have no doubt, Honeybun!”
Jack smiled and Garrett relaxed. He gripped Sarah’s hand and held it for the rest of the journey to their destination in Baltimore. The contact was like magic, allowing her to clear her mind of all the jumbled thoughts being broadcast from the James Channel. She looked down at her fishnet clad legs and suede high-heeled ankle boots. How did Rachel talk me into this ridiculous outfit? she mused. Garrett had looked shocked when he’d arrived to pick her up. He was used to seeing her in jeans or yoga pants, not black lace stretched over her curves. And certainly not fishnets.
Rachel wore a short, flowy purple empire waist dress that accentuated her growing baby bump. “I’m finally starting to look pregnant!” she cheered. She refused to be sensible and wear flats, though. Instead, she donned black leather boots that laced up the sides and came to mid-thigh.
“Sexiest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen,” Jack proclaimed approvingly right after Sarah introduced them both to Garrett.
Seeing her best friend pregnant again was quite a flashback for Sarah. The women had met in Lamaze class when they were both pregnant with their now eleven-year-old sons. At that time, they were both married to their babies’ fathers and firmly believed their newborns were going to solidify their marriages. Little did we know, Sarah rolled her eyes.
She devoted only a moment to remembering the reunion with her son Owen’s father that summer in Colorado when they attended Rachel’s wedding. Now that he was back in contact, happily married with a new family, he called at least once a week to speak to his son. He had asked if Owen could spend Christmas with him in Colorado but Sarah was stalling as long as possible to make that decision.
Garrett exited the car and leapt around the rear before Sarah could even gather up her things so he could open the door for her. How gentlemanly! Sarah observed as he helped her to her feet. Rachel smiled approvingly and cast Sarah a wink as she smoothed her leather jacket down against her swollen stomach.
The GPS had expertly led them down a wooded, windy road in a suburb to the party house. GPS, Sarah snickered to herself, remembering Garrett’s initial-themed nickname again. Their destination was a two-story brick colonial with a narrow porch supported by around columns on each side. The stone path leading to the double front doors was flanked by two huge concrete urns filled with cone-shaped topiaries. Other cars lined the driveway and extended down the curved street with several more parked in the yard. “Wow, there’s quite a few people already here!” Sarah exclaimed, scrutinizing the types of vehicles while attempting to ascertain what kind of crowd to expect based on make, model and year. But the diversity made it impossible to predict, a fact which reassured her immensely.
The foursome headed to the front door and Garrett rang the doorbell with no discernible sign of trepidation, ever exuding confidence. They were immediately greeted by a slight, middle-aged woman with jet black hair which fell into a smooth, shiny bob framing her face. She had deep purple lips and nails, and her eyes were lined with thick black makeup. She smiled broadly, revealing straight white teeth. When she spoke, the sound was like velvet: “I’m Mistress Melody, welcome to The Cave!” She distributed hugs and kisses all around, then explained some of the protocol and etiquette to her guests.
Sarah glanced around, wondering how this beautiful brick home could have possibly earned the title of “The Cave.” Although, in defense of the moniker, it was dark, only a black light illuminating the long corridor that ran down the length of the house toward a staircase at the end. The right side opened up into what looked like a library, the walls lined with full but neatly kept bookcases. Sarah stepped into the room, the heels of her suede boots clicking on the wooden floor. The rows and rows of books reminded her of James’s house, except for the fact that his were everywhere: stacks and stacks placed haphazardly throughout his whole house. The orderliness of this room made her suspect a librarian had been a member of the interior design team.
There was a brass floor lamp in the corner with a green light bulb casting an eerie glow about the room. By the lamp was a glossy black grand piano. Wow, Sarah thought, this house is like something from a movie! I wonder if it always looks like this or if it’s just for parties? She glanced across the hallway to the dining room which featured a huge lit candelabra scattering gray shadows of its flickering flames against the floral-papered walls. She saw a set of glass french doors framed in thick burgundy velvet curtains that opened onto a terrace lined with strands of twinkling white Christmas lights.
Garrett seemed to be taking it all in stride. Maybe his many online conversations with Mistress Melody had given him a good idea what to expect? Sarah speculated. He said he’d seen pictures. He grasped her hand and led her down the hallway which ended with a huge wooden staircase ascending to the second level of the house. It was one of those staircases that was wider at the bottom than at the top and was covered with a long oriental rug.
The downstairs was open to the ceiling and each side of the upstairs was flanked with walkways that were studded with closed doors. Sarah’s curiosity was piqued. What was behind all those doors?
“Up? Or down?” Garrett questioned, guiding her around the side of the staircase to a cherry wood-paneled wall that had a smaller door cut into it. He pulled it open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into the darkness below. She could hear music emanating up through the stairwell as well as stifled moans. “The fetish and BDSM stuff mostly takes place downstairs,” he explained. “Mistress Melody is a really wonderful hostess who loves to share all of her toys with her guests. We’re really quite lucky!”
He pulled her hand toward the basement and she followed, feeling her entire body acquiesce to him. I guess I’m feeling submissive tonight, she thought, which seemed appropriate given the venue. Or maybe it’s just Garrett’s effect on me, she considered, remembering the scene that played out in the dressing room the week before.
She was not surprised to see the larger open area of the basement lined by all manners of instruments ranging from floggers, whips, and violet wands to assorted restraints; from items that merely provided stimulation to those that could inflict a great degree of pain.
Sarah had been prepared for a “fetish” element. She hadn’t experienced most of it herself, but she’d done extensive research within the BDSM community, having attended munches and done a great number of interviews with Dominants and submissives. She was familiar with the lingo but hadn’t seen the action in person. This is going to be very educational, she surmised, carefully making her way down the staircase. She knew that a lot of times these parties didn’t even feature sex; it was all about power exchange and discipline. It was not really her cup of tea, but she was wildly curious as to who participated and why. She was already formulating hypotheses in her mind.
“So are you into all this stuff?” Sarah asked Garrett as he surveyed the scenes in progress. She tried to remember the exact verbiage of his profile on the fetish site and didn’t remember a heavy BDSM component mentioned. The fetishes he had listed appeared relatively vanilla if my memory serves, she reflected.
“I enjoy the atmosphere and the mindset,” he replied. “
And I’ve dabbled here and there.” He cast a suggestive wink in her direction, accompanied by a broad grin.
“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable,” Sarah explained, “more that I’m just...um...uninitiated.”
“Well, we can take care of that,” Garrett offered. “I know you’re an exhibitionist. We can certainly leverage that.” He winked at her again. “Just stop me if anything feels uncomfortable, alright?”
She nodded, attempting to exude an air of confidence and trust. There was a very sturdy looking St. Andrew’s cross in the corner on which Garrett’s eyes immediately fixated. Sarah envisioned the proverbial light bulb illuminate above his fiery red hair. She looked around to see if Rachel and Jack were still following them, but it looked as though they’d wandered off on their own adventure. Garrett walked over to the workbench and grabbed a set of cuffs and something else with a thin chain before meeting Sarah back in the middle of the room. Even squinting intensely, she couldn’t see what the other item he carried was.
While submitting to being affixed to the cross, Sarah surveyed the other scenes taking place in the dark corners and along the far wall of the basement. There was a woman binding a beautiful Indian lady with thick, black, flowing hair; skillfully weaving a silky lavender rope into an intricate design that crossed in front and underneath her caramel-colored breasts. They had begun to swell and jut out, crowned by nearly black nipples almost begging to be teased and tortured. She turned her prisoner slightly to reveal that the lacing continued all the way down her back and wrapped through her legs.
Several feet away a completely nude woman save for black leather boots was bent over a wooden bench receiving punishment from a Dominant dressed in all black and wielding a flogger with black and red leather tassels. “Hey, I know those two,” Garrett remarked, offering the man a casual wave. The Dom stayed focused on the task at hand but returned a curt nod of recognition.
Once Garrett was satisfied with Sarah’s placement on the cross, he pulled down the stretchy lace top of the dress that encased her breasts. He roughly extracted each creamy mound from her black satin bra and let them fall back against the fabric. He affixed one end of the mystery item - nipple clamps - first to her left nipple and then her right. She immediately felt the searing pain surge through her body as he tightened them down. Soon she felt the cold metal chain that now connected her two breasts fall onto her bare skin. He tugged the chain just as the initial pain had subsided, causing it to well up within her again. She winced and he looked pleased.
Who knew he had a sadistic streak? she questioned, realizing that she must trust him, even though she barely knew him. I guess seeing him on stage night after night gives me the sense of knowing him well, even though he is only playing a role. Despite that, Sarah had the feeling that more of him shone through his character than he’d care to admit.
So there she stood, hands and feet bound to each end of the cross, her legs spread. She garnered several glances from other party guests who smiled knowingly or nodded in approval. She watched Garrett whisper something to the Dom and his submissive who were occupying the nearby bench. The Dom shook his head with a devious smile and then directed his sub to follow Garrett over to the cross, which she did on all fours, crawling alongside him as he smacked her bare, already scarlet bottom with the black and red leather flogger.
First Garrett commanded the sub to kiss up Sarah’s thighs, up one side and down the other, ignoring the area covered by her skirt. Sarah felt the moisture from the blonde’s full lips seep through the openings in her fishnet stockings and began to feel a bit wobbly on her suede boots as the sensations soaked in. Garrett patted the sub’s head as he lifted the skirt half of Sarah’s black lace dress up so that only her midsection was banded by the material. Sarah wore no panties, revealing the smooth-shaven V shape of her mons pubis where it met her full, rounded thighs. She felt the sub's steamy exhalations and moist lips brush against her sex, her head guided by Garrett's strong, commanding palm.
By this time a larger crowd of five or six had gathered near the cross to observe. The blonde sub sat perched with her bottom against the heels of her thigh-high boots, obediently waiting for another command while her Dom tenderly stroked her hair. Garrett relished his role as ringmaster; he was channeling all the performance energy Sarah had observed him projecting on stage during rehearsals. He ran a fingertip up Sarah’s thigh and hooked it between her labia so that it caught on the swollen knot of her clitoris. “You love being watched, don’t you, Sarah?” he whispered into her ear while rubbing her clit in a circular motion, his hot breath igniting every nerve in her body.
She nodded. Oh my god, what are you doing to me? she thought desperately, feeling her sex salivate all over his hand.
“I think you should have to play voyeur as well as exhibitionist,” he pronounced. He stepped down from the cross and positioned himself directly in front of the sub. Sarah knew what he was going to do before he did it: her mouth was at the perfect height to take his cock down her throat. He unbuckled his pants and guided the sub’s hungry mouth onto his massive tool. He gripped her by the hair and stroked shallowly in and out of her mouth for a few seconds, then authoritatively required her to take his whole member. Sarah’s eyes widened as she remembered how hard she’d tried to engulf his enormous cock with her mouth. It’s an impossible task, she reasoned. Not surprisingly, the sub choked and sputtered when there were still three inches of his shaft left to go, yet Garrett persisted in trying. Sarah witnessed a tear roll down the blonde’s cheek as he finally released her, allowing her to catch her breath.
The Dom sidled up next to Garrett and unfastened his pants as well, placing the tip of his swollen cock against the sub’s mouth which she opened, accepting his gift graciously. He was much less endowed than Garrett, and she easily slid his entire length to the back of her throat. After a minute of sucking him from base to tip, the Dom pulled out and guided her mouth back to Garrett’s pulsating manhood. She went back and forth between the two cocks as if her hunger could never be satiated.
Sarah watched, her wrists and ankles struggling against the restraints. The glistening, saliva-coated cocks, throbbing with desire, looked so very delicious. She felt the moisture her sex had generated from watching the display begin to seep out onto her thighs as her body trembled with anticipation, her need growing and exacerbated by the tingling pain emanating from her clamped nipples. She imagined Garrett’s slick, veiny tool slipping easily inside her, the sub’s saliva mixing with the juices of her desire and easing his passage. She remembered how consumed she’d felt when they’d been together in the dressing room, filled by every inch of him, the feeling of it being on the very threshold of her tolerance
Even though his cock was buried down the sub's throat, Garrett maintained constant eye contact with Sarah. His voice seemed closer to her ears than it really was as he taunted her, telling her how good the sub's mouth felt sliding up and down his shaft. Sarah was in misery, her need for release so great that she felt a burning deep within her pelvis and radiating outward throughout her body. But she said nothing, continuing to writhe against her restraints, too proud to beg him to satisfy her need.
Finally, the Dom pulled out of his sub's mouth and with two quick jerks, his cock exploded all over her face, the semen running down her cheeks as he praised her, "Good girl, good girl,” with his eyes half closed and head thrown back. After he recovered he thanked Garrett for inviting them into the scene and the two headed back upstairs, this time the sub upright on two feet.
The crowd observing the show applauded and Garrett took a bow. Ever the showman, Sarah mused, relieved that her torture was coming to an end. Or was it? Garrett stepped to the cross and playfully slapped the flogger against the chain of the nipple clamps, pulling her nipples with excruciating pleasure. Her heightened state of arousal had diminished the pain eons ago.
After the audience dispersed, a solitary man remained. He was a tall, broad-shouldered African American with smooth, milk chocol
ate-colored skin and striking features: large almond-shaped eyes with thick lashes, high cheekbones and full dark lips. "Would you desire any assistance with your sub?" he asked assertively, standing with his feet spaced shoulder-width apart, his hands folded together near his groin. He looked all business, nearly military-like.
Garrett grinned and introduced himself. "I'm Warren," the black man replied, firmly shaking Garrett's hand. He helped him release Sarah from the restraints and down off the cross to the concrete floor.
"Are you okay?" Garrett asked her, the previous sadistic intensity replaced with care and concern.
She nodded. "Just tingly and fucking horny as hell." She laughed thinking that she sounded like Rachel. I wonder where she and Jack went off to, she thought, suddenly envisioning Rachel in a pile of bodies, mouths and genitals all engaged at various contact points.
"Let's go take care of her, shall we?" Garrett suggested, turning to Warren for approval.
Warren nodded matter-of-factly, as if he was fully dedicated to the serious task at hand. He guided the pair to one of the smaller rooms adjacent to the large open playroom and closed the door behind them. He and Garrett stood on either side of her, their eyes raking over her body, which was now re-sheathed in the black lace dress.
Garrett pulled a bit of the lace fabric away from Sarah's skin, "You'll have no need of this," he determined. She obediently pulled the dress up and over her head and laid it on the dresser that was near the door.
Warren unhooked the black satin bra before she could even process what was happening, and in a flash she was completely nude before them. Wow, it's been a long time since I've had two men at the same time she thought, a devious grin spreading across her face. She flung herself onto the bed, her arms wide open, as if inviting the two men to completely ravish her.
The invitation was eagerly accepted and within moments she had two pairs of lips taking each of her nipples between them. They were sore from the previous torture of the clamps, but the warm moisture of the two mouths was a welcome balm. Garrett traveled up her collarbone to her neck while Warren slid down her body until his face was nestled between her thighs. "You're not allowed to come until I say," Garrett warned her as Warren's full-lipped mouth began to consume her desire-drenched sex.
The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 41