The Virgin Dating Game

by Sky Corgan

  He takes the brush and splatters me with liquid latex. Part of me wants to get upset, but the uptight feeling I've held onto all night snaps, and I just laugh. I dip my brush into the liquid latex and sling it at him. Then it turns into an all-out war.

  People move out of our way as we run around the area like children, throwing liquid latex at each other. There's really no place to seek cover, so we get it everywhere. By the time our bottles are empty, we're both laughing so much that we're breathless.

  Lucian tosses his bottle in the trash and pulls me into his arms, embracing me while we regain our composure. I love the way his heartbeat feels thrumming against my chest. More than that, I'm enjoying having fun with him for once. Maybe his world isn't so bad after all.

  “Amy,” Janice's voice comes out of nowhere.

  I turn to see her standing at the front of the booth. There's an ear-to-ear grin plastered across her face. At first, I think it's because she's finally seeing me happy here, but then she says, “I found Sir. We're going to do a scene in the dungeon.” She points towards the dungeon and then disappears.

  The amazing moment is broken as I pull out of Lucian's arms. The latex on his chest sticks to my top, making a plasticky peeling sound as we disengage from each other. Dread fills me at the mention of the word dungeon, though at this point, I think it's more from the fact that I know I'll be stuck here for an indistinguishable amount of time. Who knows how long their scene will take.

  “I think we can start peeling this stuff off now.” Lucian glances down at his chest. He's absolutely covered in liquid latex. It's molded to his muscular torso, looking almost like a second skin.

  “May I?” I make pinchy fingers at him.

  “Be my guest, but watch the nipples.”

  Just because he said it, I make sure to tweak his nipples after I peel the liquid latex off of them. He squirms and takes a step back when I do, and then we get into a tickling fight. I laugh and kick and scream until I think I'm going to pee on myself.

  “Lucian, stop!” I beg.

  “Call me Sir.”

  “Sir. Please, please, please. I'm going to piss myself.” I wiggle out of his grasp and move a safe distance away.

  “Are you going to behave?” He points at me.

  I screw my face, contemplating.

  “I'll tickle you again, if you don't.”

  “Fine, fine,” I huff, returning to him to peel off more of the liquid latex without harassing him.

  The stuff comes off with surprising ease. At least, it's easy to remove where there is a lot of it. The outline where the liquid latex begins and the small dots spotting his neck and face are more difficult.

  “It's fine. Just leave the rest,” he tells me when my picking becomes tedious. I don't even bother trying to get most of the liquid latex off of my outfit. It's just going to end up in the trash later anyway.

  “Did you have fun?” Lucian asks as we walk out of the booth, his arm slung over my shoulder.

  “I did.” I nod, a bit surprised.

  “Good. I want you to have fun.” He kisses the side of my head.

  “What now?” My eyes skim down the row of vendors. I feel like I've seen the whole place already.

  “Well,” he draws out the word, and I already know what he's about to say. “We could go check on your friend in the dungeon.”

  “I don't know.” I curl against him, feeling unpleasant from the possibility of him seeing Janice naked. It already seemed like he liked what he saw when she had clothes on.

  “Aren't you at least the slightest bit curious?” He squeezes me gently.

  I am curious. But I'd be a lot more curious if I knew that my best friend wasn't in there.

  “I'm not really interested in seeing all that nudity.” I gesture into the air.

  Lucian smirks. “Well then, we're in luck. There's no nudity allowed here. If you didn't look at the dress code, all women have to have their nipples and areolas covered, and all attendees must have at least a one-inch strip of fabric covering their genitals.”

  That does make me feel a little better, though not much. I can tell that it's really important to Lucian that I check out the dungeon, so I decide to cave in.

  “Fine,” I exhale heavily, unable to make myself sound excited about it.

  “Excellent.” He places his palm on the small of my back to get me going. It's beginning to feel like he's herding me. Would it be so hard for him to hold my hand instead? Maybe that's too normal for a place like this.

  Each step we take towards the dungeon makes knots build up in my chest and a sick feeling churn in my stomach. I'm more than uncomfortable with the idea of going in with him. Any curiosity I might have had is erased by the fear that he's going to talk me into doing a scene.

  Lucian exchanges a quick greeting with the Dungeon Master before we step into the area reserved for scene play. There is an array of BDSM equipment inside: stockades, wooden sawhorses padded for kink play, custom-designed furniture with restraints bolted to them, and a whole row of Saint Andrew's crosses.

  My eyes dart around the room, trying to take it all in. I'm quickly able to distinguish the experienced kinksters from the amateurs. There's a group of people crowded around one Saint Andrew's cross, laughing and talking and joking as they play with the various kink equipment available for public use.

  In one corner of the room, a Dom has a female submissive tied up on top of a table. The rope-work is so detailed and intricate that it's practically an art. From where we're standing, I can't tell if he's performing a scene, or if it's an exhibit for people to learn from. There's quite a crowd gathered around, all watching in awe.

  On the other side of the room, there's a Domme flogging her female submissive. It doesn't look like she's using that much force, but the girl cries out after each blow as if it's the most painful thing in the world. It makes me cringe, even though I'm pretty sure she's faking it.

  To be honest, the worst thing I see is some extreme pain play taking place at the other far corner of the room. I can only imagine that it's another exhibit, because the guy working on the submissive looks incredibly skilled. He's basically using his sub as a pin cushion, pressing needles into her skin in a straight line down her breasts above her corset. Between the gloves he's wearing, the way he maneuvers her skin, and the assistant that he has holding the tray of needles, I can only assume he's done this dozens of times before. The girl doesn't even flinch as he sticks her again and again and again. If anything, she looks happy. It's an oddity to me, but who am I to judge. I just know that it definitely wouldn't be my thing.

  Finally, I spot Janice and her Sir. I wouldn't have even known it was her if not for the outfit she's wearing. Her Dom has her tied up on a padded sawhorse, bent over the V of it with her hands restrained behind her back and a ball gag in her mouth. Her skirt is hiked up over her hips, and her latex underwear is in full view. It's a one-inch strip alright.

  Her Dom is a lot bigger than I imagined him to be, a hulking man so broad that he seems almost unreal. There's so much muscle on him that he makes Lucian look scrawny by comparison. He's bald with blonde eyebrows and blue eyes, and his skin has a slight fake-tan look. Janice said he looked like Mister Clean on steroids. I think he looks more like Mister Clean's bad-ass brother. He's wearing latex pants and a matching latex vest that looks at least one size too small. I can only imagine it's difficult finding clothes that fit when you're that big.

  “That's Janice's ass.” I point to the two of them.

  “You know your friend by her ass?” Lucian quirks an eyebrow in amusement.

  “Yup. I'd know that ass anywhere,” I sigh, thinking of all the times I've held Janice's hair back while she was throwing up after a night of partying. Usually, when we get home from the bar, and she's had too much to drink, she'll strip her clothes off in the living room as she walks. It was awkward the first time I saw her do it, but I quickly got used to it when I realized it was a habit of hers.

  By the time we reac
h the two of them, Janice's Sir has selected a heavy-looking flogger and is winding it back for the downswing. I'm not exactly sure what they've been doing up to this point, but one of her ass cheeks is already red. The other one is practically barren, still pale and untouched. It seems unbalanced to me.

  Mister Clean Steroid Edition doesn't even glance over at us as we stop near their scene. He appears to be completely into the moment, telling Janice to thank him after each lash before he goes to town on her backside. I jump and wince from the first strike, watching her body tense from the blow. She makes a hissing sound but doesn't cry out, then mutters a 'thank you' around the ball gag in her mouth.

  I lean against Lucian, keeping my face turned to the side, having a hard time watching the display. “Is this what you like to do?”

  “Yes.” His eyes are glued to Janice's ass, to the irritated skin there that's quickly becoming a deeper shade of pink.

  “You enjoy it?” My gaze falls to his crotch, and the answer is right there for me to see. There's a bulge in his pants. He's getting off to watching my best friend being flogged, and that only makes the sickness in my stomach grow. This is part of what I feared.

  “These are the things I like to do.” He looks down at me, and his tone is all seriousness.

  I feel like the fun time we were having with the liquid latex was years ago. The dungeon makes me uncomfortable. I don't like watching other people being tortured and pleasured. It feels dirty to me—wrong, somehow. That's just the naive part of me talking though. This wouldn't be going on if people didn't want voyeurs. But I don't want to be a voyeur. I don't want to be a participant either. I just really don't want to be here.

  “Watch.” Lucian's fingers touch beneath my chin, directing my face to the scene in front of us.

  Janice's Sir strikes her again and again. I can see tears streaming down her cheeks, but her eyes are happy. She's enjoying what's happening—getting off to it. Is this what I'm supposed to be seeing? That pain at this level has the potential to be pleasurable? Janice and I aren't the same person though. We don't feel the same things. We don't have the same desires.

  Mister Clean shoves the flogger into a large black duffle bag on the floor and pulls out a thick wooden paddle. He steps up behind her and takes it in both hands.

  “Now, I'm going to brand you mine,” he tells her.

  It's an incredibly hot thing to say, and I feel the slightest twinge of jealousy. The idea of Lucian marking me his fills me with pleasure. I wouldn't want him to do it here though. Not publicly.

  Janice's Dom draws the paddle back and lets it sail. There's an audible crack as it makes contact with her unmarked ass cheek. She cries out, a sound that tugs at my heart. My moment of enthrallment with the scene is over as soon as I watch him pull the paddle back and welts begin to form where it hit. The letters take shape slowly, but as soon as I can read the word clearly, my entire body is flooded with disgust. Displayed across Janice's ass for the world to see is the word SLUT.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I think I'm ready to go.” I stare at the bold letters on Janice's ass, trying to bite back my anger.

  I'm not sure why I'm so irrationally mad. Janice wouldn't care that her Dom plastered such a derogatory word across her backside. Heck, it would probably just turn her on more. It infuriates me though. Even seeing the word changes my mood completely.

  “Too intense for you?” Lucian asks, and I can tell he's a bit displeased by my reaction.

  “I'm getting tired,” I lie, glancing down at my watch to make sure it's not ridiculously early. Thankfully, it's a little past eleven.

  “They're probably going to be at it for a while.” He nods towards Janice and her Sir.

  My shoulders slump. He's right. It's not like I can pull Janice out of her scene just because I don't like it and want to leave.

  “You know what, I'll just call a cab.” I turn and start walking out of the dungeon. The thought of staring at the word 'slut' one second longer is driving me crazy. I need to get out of this area before I have a meltdown.

  “Or, we could go back to my place.” Lucian takes long strides to catch up with me.

  I look down at the bulge in his pants. It's not for me. It's for her. I don't want him if he's just going to be thinking about my best friend when we're fucking.

  “I really am tired, Lucian,” I lie again.

  “Then let me take you home.”

  “I don't want to burden you. This is your thing. You're having fun. Stay.” I can't even meet his gaze as I talk. All I can think about is going outside and getting some air. Fleshfest has filled up a lot, and it seems like there's a shortage of oxygen. That's probably just my anxiety talking though.

  “To be honest, I'm a little tired too. Let me take you home, and then I'll go home afterward.”

  It sounds almost like he's trying to convince me that he's not such a bad guy, that his interests don't lie exclusively with the BDSM scene. I'm probably reading that wrong though.

  “Fine. You can take me home,” I relent. Anything to get me away from here faster.

  Lucian digs his cell phone out of his pocket and makes a quick phone call. For a second, I wonder who he's calling at a time like this, but then I realize he's talking to a driver.

  When we step outside, it feels like I can breathe again. I inhale deeply, taking in the scent of cement and dirt and the city. It's not the most pleasant smell, but it's better than the sweat and leather I was getting from Fleshfest.

  Within seconds, a limousine is pulling up in front of us. A man steps out to open the door. Lucian puts his hand on the small of my back, herding me again, and I step into the limo, trying not to be mesmerized by how luxurious it is inside. The seats are done in black leather, and there's a minibar taking up one whole side of the vehicle. Briefly, I wonder if Lucian is going to pour me a drink. After the night I've had, I could really use one.

  Lucian crawls into the limo beside me, and the driver closes the door behind us. When he steps back into the driver's seat, he pulls open the little window separating the compartments and asks for my address. I rattle it off to him quickly before getting comfortable next to Lucian.

  “So, what did you think of Fleshfest?” Lucian asks.

  “It's not really my thing,” I admit, even though I know it will displease him.

  “It was just your first time. It's a little awkward for everyone the first time around.”

  “Was it awkward for you?” I turn to face him.

  “Yes.” He smiles.

  “How did you get into the lifestyle anyway?” I'm genuinely interested. In fact, I've been wondering about that for a while.

  “We'll talk about that some other time.” Lucian urges me onto his lap with a wolfish grin. “For now, I just want to enjoy what little time I have left with you tonight.”

  It's a sweet thing to say. I climb onto his lap and rest my head against his chest, trying to relax—trying to have a romantic moment—but he has other things in mind.

  His hands begin to wander. First, they wrap around my waist, his thumbs lazily rubbing the bottom of my latex top back and forth as he cranes his head to kiss my neck. For a second, I think about telling him to stop. I'm really not in the mood, but I do enjoy the affection.

  His lips press tenderly against my throat. Then he flicks his tongue out to taste my skin. I feel the first tremor of arousal as his grip tightens around me. Already, his manhood is poking at my ass. The thin latex skirt I'm wearing does little to hide it.

  It's not until one of his hands moves up the front of my blouse to grab the zipper at my cleavage that I decide he's taking things too far. I place my hand on top of his, curling it around his fingers. “Lucian, not right now.”

  “But you're so sexy right now. I want you so badly,” he whispers against my ear. His breath is hot, his words infused with lust. My clit throbs in surrender, and I know I don't really want to resist him.

  Weakly, my fingers fall from his hand. He draws my zipper down,
and his hand makes its way inside my top, sliding over the slope of my breast to grab at my nipple. When he pinches it between two fingertips, I moan softly, turning my head to find his lips.

  The kiss is explosive, so deep and passionate, and quickly becoming aggressive. I maneuver myself around, turning to straddle him, ever aware that my skirt is straining, pressing hard against my thighs as I try not to let the material ride too far up.

  The space is cramped, but I use it to my advantage. Lucian has allowed me to touch him tonight more than he ever has before. I decide to test my luck by holding his face in my hands while we kiss. The stubble on his cheeks and chin makes me want to giggle, though I don't know why. Probably because I'm just so damn giddy from touching him.

  He wraps his arms around me, pressing me down on top of him. I can feel his dick rubbing against the fabric of my panties, yearning to get under them. I taste his lips, nibbling and savoring them. They're so soft. I just want to kiss them all night.

  Lucian's fingers find their way into my hair, and it takes me a minute to realize that he's pulling the tie out of my bun. I can't help but smirk at how much he loves me with my hair down. If it pleases him though, I have no problem with it.

  As soon as the tie comes loose, I shake my head so that my long brown hair cascades over my shoulders. Lucian threads his fingers into it, looking at me with such adoration that it makes me swoon.

  “My God, you're beautiful,” he tells me before his lips seek mine again.

  I close my eyes as his tongue begs entry into my mouth, and I allow it. His kiss and hands and body are all so needy that it doesn't take long before my hormones are following suit. I want him badly. Now I'm beginning to wish I would have let him take me to his house. Maybe he'll be willing to come into my apartment for a while. Then we can have sex in my room. I've never had sex in my apartment before. The thought makes me feel naughty, though I'm not sure why. It's a reminder of how stupidly innocent I am. And the feel of his skillful hands on my body is a reminder of how not innocent he is. I don't care though. To be honest, it only excites me more. I love that he knows what he's doing—knows exactly how to turn me on and make me his.