A woman sat at a desk in the small entryway and checked them in.
Sully took Clarisse’s arm and led her through a curtained doorway into a large dressing room.
Lockers lined the walls and several people were changing clothes.
A few of them greeted Sully and Mac by name. Clarisse tried not to stare and failed miserably. People were in various stages of dress and undress—bustiers, corsets, fishnets—and that was just a couple of the men.
Mac stowed their gear in a locker while Sully led her through to another room. Mac followed, carrying the casserole he’d made. A few people already stood around a buffet table set up in one far corner.
The huge play space boggled her mind. The enormous building had been turned into a dungeon. There were a few curtained-off areas, but much of the space lay open where anyone could watch.
What have I gotten myself into?
Sully guided her over to a chair in a quiet corner, made her sit, and knelt in front of her. Mac stood behind him, watching. “I’m going to collar you for the evening, sweetheart. Just a formality.”
Fear gripped her. “Why?”
He smiled. “Nothing will stop a jerk from hitting on you if he’s determined, but most of the people here, if you’re wearing a collar, it’ll send them a message that you’re taken. It’s not a locking collar.
It’s one of Mac’s old play collars.”
It belonged to Mac? Somehow, that made the notion more comfortable. She nodded.
Mac handed Sully the collar, and he fitted it around her neck. It was way too loose, even on the smallest hole. He removed it, pulled out a pocket knife, poked a new hole in it, then tried again. Not too tight, not too loose.
The pleased grin on Mac’s face wiped away all fears in her heart.
“Is that okay? Is it comfortable?” Sully asked.
She nodded and, feeling it with her hand, noticed a small tag attached to the collar. She couldn’t read it, but she fingered it. “What does that say?”
Sully smiled, his grey gaze holding her captive. “Mine.”
She gasped. The possessive way he’d said it took her breath away.
“Another thing,” he said. “For tonight, you’ll address me as ‘Sir’ when talking to me. I will call you ‘girl.’ That’s the only formality I’ll insist on. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Why don’t you want me to call you Master like Mac does?”
If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he looked…sad. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Because I’m not your Master, sweetheart. You’re not my slave. Tonight is just to see how you’ll like it. I take the relationship and responsibilities I have with slave as his Master more seriously than a marriage. It’s not just a role-playing game to us. Understand?”
Emotions spun through her. She nodded.
He smiled, erasing the sad look from his face. “Good girl.” He offered his hand and helped her stand. “Let’s go introduce you around.”
Doreen and Alex arrived. When she spotted Clarisse, Doreen squealed with joy and enveloped Clarisse in a hug that nearly knocked her off her feet. Fortunately, Sully stood there with his hands on her waist, keeping her upright.
“I’m so glad you made it! You’re going to have a blast tonight!”
Clarisse wasn’t sure if she’d remember anyone Sully introduced her to. Maybe if reminded what they wore, because that’s what stuck in her mind. If so, they could jostle her memory with descriptors such as “painful looking metal cage on his cock man” or “the woman with the pierced nipples and bells strung on them.” Everyone was friendly and welcomed Clarisse. As the arrival window closed and the party’s official start time drew near, more people changed from street clothes into a wide variety of fetish wear from relatively tame to totally naked with accessories.
Frequently hung from pierced body parts.
She wondered if Sully would make Mac change, but he didn’t.
Yvette and Mike showed up, as did Bob and Jenna. Yvette had Mike naked and hunched over. Yvette grinned at Clarisse’s puzzled expression. “Bet you’ve never seen one of these before, have you?
Turn around, boy. Show her your pretty ass.”
Mike shuffled around so his backside was visible. Across the backs of his thighs lay a long wooden clamp, with a hole in the center, through which were clamped his…
Clarisse felt a sympathetic pain in her own nether regions. The device tightly squeezed his balls and cock. Yvette had clipped his cuffed wrists to each end of the thing.
“It’s a humbler,” Yvette gleefully exclaimed. Then she spun him around, caught his head with her arm, and pulled him up. He winced as his cock and balls were stretched by the device. “He’s my good boy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am!” he gasped.
She let him return to his hunched over position. “He talked back to me on the way here. Normally I don’t make him wear it this soon in the evening, but I gave him a choice of this, or I was going to let Ray and Oot have their way with him and spit roast him. He chose this.”
“Ray and Oot?”
“You haven’t met them yet, girl,” Sully said. He spotted someone at the other end of the building. “In fact, there they are. Let’s go introduce you before they start playing.”
Yvette stopped Sully. “Hey, can I play with Mac later?” She grinned. “I brought an extra humbler.”
“Sorry. I have plans of my own for him tonight.”
“Damn. Oh well.” She slapped Mac on the shoulder. “Lucky you.”
As they made their way to the other end of the building, Mac muttered, “Yeah, lucky me is fucking right. Thank you, Master.”
“You honestly think I’d let her play with you again after the last time?”
“I hope not.”
“What happened?” Clarisse asked.
Mac stepped to her other side. Keeping his voice low he said, “I had to pee sitting down for a week. That psycho bitch makes Sully look like Santa Claus. She’s one of the few times I’ve ever safeworded for pain. She makes the Marquis de Sade look like a sweetheart.”
“She knows Mac’s a pain slut,” Sully quietly added, “and she was eager to see how far she could go. Mike can’t take heavy impact play, and she wanted to try it.” He looked at Mac. “You’re the one who agreed to play with her. I told you it was your choice. I also gave you the option of letting me red light the scene, if you’ll recall, but you said you wanted control of it.”
“Yeah, and next time I insist on that, feel free to smack me in the balls and remind me of Yvette.”
Clarisse shivered. “You won’t let her do anything to me, will you?”
Sully stopped and turned her to face him, his face dark, his voice serious. “No one ever touches you but Mac and me. That’s a promise.”
As they walked, another man stopped Sully to ask him a question.
Clarisse leaned in to Mac. “What’s a spit roast?”
He laughed as he nuzzled her ear and whispered, “One of my favorite fantasies starring you as the center, watching Master fuck you while you suck my cock.”
She gasped, her knees nearly melting out from under her at that mental image.
Mac chuckled. “You okay, sweetie?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
Question answered.
“You okay? You wanted an honest answer, right?” His evil, playful grin told her he knew exactly what effect his words had on her.
“I’m okay.” Just hornier than hell.
Sully finished talking to the other man and they continued their walk to the end of the building.
The men, Ray and Oot, rummaged through two duffel bags. A nearly-naked woman, wearing only a leather harness, knelt nearby waiting on them. Sully introduced Clarisse to the men. Ray had gorgeous hazel eyes and apparently natural blond hair from the looks of it. Oot’s coal black hair was spiked, and his light blue eyes sparkled with good cheer. From the collar around Oot’s neck, Clarisse suspected Ray called the shots.