by Eileen Green
The centerpiece table was wide and on one end, the one that faced the bottom part of the U table, where a golden throne sat, was split in two. Leather cuffs were set on the sides of the widest part of the table where most likely someone’s wrists would go, while cuffs were on the two separate parts, the rope holding them coming up from holes in the tables themselves.
Taking in the table where she knew she was going to be showcased, Skye swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure how to take this all in, on top of wondering why she had ever agreed to this.
The warmth and weight of two hands, one on each butt cheek, gave her some strength and courage. If it wasn’t for Brock and JC standing next to her, she would have bolted already. Well, she would have been flying back to New York. Billy was dead and she was safe.
What am I still doing here?
Around her, women dressed in corsets, fishnet stockings, garters, and panties moved around the room setting the tables. Gold chargers were placed at each place setting and then a white plate was set atop that. Gold silverware sat beside each plate while crystal wine goblets sat above the knives and spoons. Room above the place settings was most likely reserved for food and drink.
A tall blond man walked around the table, checking each place setting, nodding his approval. He wore dark brown leather pants and a white t-shirt, which looked odd. When he saw Brock, he walked over. The two men grasped hands and then did a man hug. Turning, he looked JC up and down.
“Oh, lookie here! The rock star is back amongst us!” the man exclaimed, a smile on his face. He greeted JC the same way he did Brock, telling Skye that he was quite familiar with him.
“Yup. Ready for the fame and fortune again,” JC commented, his arm slipping around Skye’s waist. “It’s good to see you again, Mitch.”
“It’s great to see you here also, JC.” Mitch spoke, as he looked Skye up and down. “And who is this lovely lady?”
“This is our woman, Skye Daniels. Skye,” Brock said turning towards her, “this is my second in command, the vice president of Eccentric, Mitch Adams. He knows what is to take place here tonight. If for any reason JC or I are not right next to you and you feel distressed, Mitch will help you out. Even if you are in the penthouse by yourself and need something or aren’t feeling well, call Mitch.”
She was a bit disturbed by what Brock said, but he seemed to trust Mitch quite a bit. She hoped that Brock and JC were never far from her though.
“It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who has captured Brock here. I didn’t think he’d ever let himself get caught.” Mitch’s smile reached his eyes and he genuinely seemed to care about Brock, which caused her to relax a bit with the man. “We’re huggers here, so may I hug you?”
That he asked was thoughtful, and Skye had noticed that even at the dinner the other night, that everyone hugged her when left. She was surprised that Mitch had asked permission first.
“Sure,” she said even though she felt JC’s hand tighten a bit on her side. He possibly couldn’t be jealous, could he?
Mitch gave her a brotherly hug, being careful of her arm. When he stepped back, he looked down at her arm. “I’m sorry to hear that you and Brock were mostly all right after what happened. Neither one of you deserved what happened, just as you didn’t deserve what Craven did to you the first time. No matter what, even in the lifestyle we live in, no one should be attacked the way you were.”
A lump formed in Skye’s throat at Mitch’s words. That a person could have such compassion for someone he just met was endearing. Bella, the guys at the shoot a few nights ago, and now Mitch, she was going to miss this when the guys sent her packing.
Lowering her gaze, she prayed that the tears smarting in the back of her eyes wouldn’t fall.
Why did I have to develop feelings for everyone?
“She’s a bit nervous,” she heard Brock say.
“Well,” Mitch began. “We’ve got everything set up. Is there any fruit you are allergic to?”
Shaking her head and trying to calm herself, she answered quietly, “No.”
What the hell are they going to do with fruit and me? Then it dawned on her that things could be used for insertion. They wouldn’t do that to me, would they?
As she thought about it, she felt JC’s arm move around until his hand was on the other side of her waist. His other hand was under her chin and moving her head up until she looked in his eyes. “Hey, it’s still early, baby girl. If you want to pull out of this, you can.”
Chancing a glance over at Brock, Skye found him watching her, concern in his blue-eyed gaze. Anxiety hung over the foursome, which caused Skye to shift from one foot to the other. Brock’s voice rang through her head. You just have to let yourself feel, little one. Relax and enjoy what we do to you…for you.
Until they pushed her aside, she would use that as her mantra. “No, I’m good,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay. Let’s get you situated here so we can start the party.” Brock’s voice was a bit deeper than usual. Skye wasn’t sure if he was aroused or if he was still concerned about her.
As her two men helped her out of her robe and then onto the table, Skye tried to keep herself from trembling. Waiting was the hard part; trying to keep her wits about her while she tried to hold back the nausea that threatened her.
After the cuffs were tightened around her wrists and ankles, Brock leaned over her, a smile on his lips and pride in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, little one. Just relax and enjoy this.”
After he kissed her lovingly, JC appeared in her vision, his smile and gaze matched Brock’s. “Just remember, if you need anything, use your safe words. Red to totally halt the situation, yellow to slow down or you need something. Water, the bathroom, anything like that would be included in yellow. All right?”
Invisible cotton seemed to have taken over her mouth for it was dry as the Mohave Desert in summertime. Licking her lips, she nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said softly.
He kissed her softly, his smile still on his lips. “You’re going to do great, darlin’.”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. She agreed to this and she was going to go through with this to prove that she could.
Her head was free to move around and she watched as everyone hustled around to finish up the last-minute details. She had to admit that this production was a well-oiled machine.
Laying her head back, she looked up at the black wrought iron chandelier that was above her with lights that looked like flickering candlelight. Focusing on one of the lights, she felt herself zone out a bit, letting herself relax to keep herself calm, at least until it was show time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
People in all various forms of dress filtered into the room. With his heart in his throat at the scenario about to be played out, JC watched people as they walked by his princess as she was laid out for the room to see.
He wore a black fabric mask that covered half his face. His life had been hidden in the background for so long and he was finally coming back into the light; he felt odd with the mask on. The man that he was now because of Skye made him proud. He felt like a whole man after floundering in the dark for so long. She was his light and she made him a better man.
The people that had been invited to the dinner knew who he was, but between non-disclosure documents and the integrity that came with the Eccentric household, JC was confident no one would out him. He wore the mask because of the filming of the event.
Masters made their way around the room with their slaves in tow. Submissives quietly followed their Doms or Dommes as they greeted one another. Tops were there without someone to service them, but that’s what the serving girls were for.
Various arrays of clothing were worn. Some men wore suits and ties, while others wore jeans and dress shirts. Several men wore togas, getting into the spirit of the Roman motif. One of the Dommes wore a bright red latex dress with her breasts exposed through two round holes cut out of it. Thigh-high black boots cla
d her legs and her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail.
Subs and slaves either wore corsets and thongs while some wore nothing at all. A few subs wore schoolgirl outfits, a white button-up shirt that featured their breasts along with a miniscule plaid skirt that showed off bare asses and pussies.
Those outfits take me back to my schoolboy fantasies. I’d love to see Skye in one of those.
Watching the room and people walking around the table where Skye was laid out for everyone to see, he was proud of her. Touching the mask gave him reassurance of his hidden persona as the blindfold did for Skye’s face.
He and Brock had helped Skye out of her robe, her body trembling. They laid her on the table, which had been specially made.
The table was eight feet long and four feet wide. There was a split halfway down the length of the table and that half was split down the middle so that it separated. It looked like a Y when it was opened.
Skye now lay on that table, her legs spread open. Two of the servant girls set fruit out alongside Skye’s body and artfully placed a couple pieces upon her. She was a delectable showpiece and certainly the center of attention.
The aroma of the food drifted in from the kitchen which was in the next room, and he had to hope that it wasn’t bothering Skye for she had little to eat today in order to stay cleaned out. He looked forward to fucking her in the ass when this was all through.
Across the room, Brock greeted his guests as they arrived. They had already been screened by Tripp downstairs in the lobby before they were let up here, so no one wandered up here by mistake. Brock was an excellent host, remembering everyone’s name, characteristics, and in this case, kinks. Doms and Dommes were greeted with enthusiasm and good-natured bantering, while the subs or slaves that came with them were greeted with a hug or a few words, depending on the person or top.
Until the announcement of dinner being served, people moved around the room, some stopping at areas within the play spaces to hold a discussion with someone, or even attempting a bit of play. JC couldn’t wait until he and Brock were able to play with Skye at one of these dinners.
His gaze slid back to the beauty on the table. A banana was laid along her cunt as if it was getting ready to slip into her folds, while a cherry topped each breast. All that was needed was some ice cream on her stomach to make a sundae.
I wonder if she would be up to food play.
JC looked at the cameras situated around the room, mostly posted on walls or hanging from the ceiling. Those were being operated remotely from a control booth somewhere in the building. Two men with smaller video cameras would wander around the room during the dinner, but for now, one of them sat in a corner waiting for the action to begin. The other man, an older man who JC knew was gay, slowly moved around Skye, ready to capture the expressions and comments people were going to make regarding her.
The magic moment was almost upon them and he hoped she would get through this without calling red. There was no turning back from Skye. She was in their blood, their hearts, and their souls and he and Brock knew they loved her. BDSM was also in their blood but they could manage a relationship with her without it, but they would crave it. They wanted her to embrace it to be able to round out their love for her.
Her ability to brush herself off as a person because of her weight and her fears concerned JC. No one should have to live like that because of comments from other people, whatever happened in the past. The need to love and protect her, even from herself, was at the top of their list in life now. This just had to work to break her open and bring the past to the surface so she could move on with her life.
***
Darkness was Skye’s friend right now. It marred her ability to see the other people in the room, although she could hear them moving around. The sound of bare feet slapped against the floor as people came and went. Dress shoes fell on the marble floor and she knew they were most likely from men for they fell with heaviness. Stilettos also descended on the stone flooring from women, or in this group, people acting as women.
Cool air brushed across her exposed skin even though she felt heated from the inside out. After JC and Brock had helped her onto the table and each one strapped her limbs into the cuffs, her nerves tumbled within her. Soft hands skimmed across her skin as things were set around her. Soon, the aroma of fresh fruit became pungent and she knew they placed fruit around her. When something cold and long was placed on her pussy, along her slit, she had to keep from jumping at the sensation. Then, two small items were placed on her nipples, this time expecting it for some odd reason.
She prayed she looked good as she was trussed up and on display like a Thanksgiving turkey. The shaking began immediately even though she tried hard not to let it get to her; she hated to disrupt the work people went to make her look like a centerpiece. The thoughts that raced through her head about how ugly she was and how fat, wouldn’t stop. She had to calm herself or she was going to be sick.
A hand skimmed her arm and she could tell it belonged to a man. “Look how beautiful she is,” he said as if talking to someone near him. “She has a magnificent body.”
“She is beautiful, sir,” a woman said in a soft voice. A woman’s hand touched her after the man’s. “She is soft and has the prettiest breasts.”
When the woman’s hand came out and touched her right breast, Skye sucked in a quick breath. “Just imagine what she would look like when she comes.” The man was being generous with his compliments.
“Yes, sir. She already has a nice pretty color. I’m sure it goes much deeper then.” The man’s submissive said as she leaned in and kissed Skye’s cheek. “If she blushes anymore, she’ll be as pink as her cast.”
“It’s a shame she got hurt because of that lunatic, Billy Craven,” a new arrival said. It was a woman, or at least that’s what Skye thought. “Even Brock got shot. It would have been a shame if we had been denied this beauty’s body or lost our illustrious leader.”
Again, a hand raked her, this time on her thigh on her left side. A shiver coursed through her.
Several more people came by and paid homage to her. Their kind words prompted tears to smart behind her eyes. Had Brock told them what to say? She had to wonder.
Time seemed to have stopped for Skye as she lay there listening to the kind words said about her. Hands touched her kindly, never disrespecting her girly parts. All she could do was accept what was going on around her.
Perhaps she dozed, she wasn’t sure, but when a ding, ding, ding sounded out, most likely a knife on a crystal wine goblet, she focused again. Brock’s voice sounded from down past her feet. “Everyone, please take your seats! We’d like to go ahead and get this party started.”
The sound of multiple people moving around the large room caught her attention. The aroma of food settled upon Skye as the clinking of silverware against plates and serving dishes sounded. People murmured and the “yes, sirs” or “yes, mistresses,” were evident from the subs and slaves, both male and female.
It was a few more minutes before the clinking on the glass occurred again. “I’d like to welcome all of you to our Sunday night dinner. To you, my family, I open my home to you. Also, the centerpiece is Skye. She is JC’s woman and mine. We have been blessed to have her in our lives, and we have set her out to introduce you to her. She will become a resident here as soon as we can get her situated. All three of us hope you have an enjoyable time here and enjoy your dinner.”
Brock was ever the showman, Skye had noticed. His voice not only commanded attention, but it did something to Skye that caused her pussy to throb and leak.
Again, people held conversations around her as she could hear them eating. She could only lay there, waiting for a time that she would be released. The lesson she was supposed to learn hadn’t come to her yet, so she was certain she would be lying there for a while longer.
It wasn’t long before the sound of a woman orgasming reached Skye. She hadn’t realized that the dinner meant food of a differen
t kind of libations would be available.
Relaxing as everyone ate gave time for thoughts to run through her head. All the things that Brock and JC had said to her over the past week and a half filtered through her brain. They had been nothing but kind to her, not just physically, but mentally also.
She still tried to make sense of everything when a deep male voice spoke next to Skye. “Emperor Brock, Master John, will you please allow us to say you have a magnificent woman here. Her curves are beautiful, enough to hold onto when making love to her. Her complexion is one that other women are envious of; it’s clear and vibrant. And, the aroma she gives is certainly enough to drive a man wild. Would you be willing to share her with some of us?”
All sound ceased in the room, the anticipation of an answer weighing heavily in the air. The longer it took Brock to answer, the more Skye felt herself tremble. He had said they wouldn’t let that happen. Had they changed their minds?
Finally, a chair scraped the floor. “Master Joseph, thank you for your kind words regarding Skye. She is new to this lifestyle and is having issues adjusting to JC and myself. That question would be one to ask in the future once Skye has made her decision about what she wants from all of this. This is her initiation and she needs to embrace it fully. Touching is allowed, as is making her come with hands and mouths, but there is no actual intercourse allowed.”
“Thank you, Master Brock for allowing us to bask upon such beauty,” Master Joseph said beside her.
Sounds of eating began again as hands skimmed across her body again. There was more than just one now and this time multiple people spoke to her.
“You are so beautiful,” one man said. “I’d like to be able to play with you more if your master and my mistress would allow me to play with you.”
“Yes, beautiful,” others agreed with the man.
“Yes. You are lovely. I hope you realize that.” The woman’s voice was familiar but Skye couldn’t think of where she had heard it. A mouth covered her left nipple, the person’s tongue playing with the hard nub and whatever piece of fruit that had been sitting there.