Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Just Friends: Chapter 3

Previous Chapters: One | Two |

Chapter Three: The Black Rose's Abandon

Janice watched Gwen pull up into the parking lot at the Macaroni Grill, one of their favorite haunts. Good food, cute waiters, and they gave out little plastic cups of crayons to draw on the butcher paper they used as tablecloths. She and Gwen had left some, ahem, inspirational messages – explicit stick people and naughty snippets of poetry – along with a very generous tip.
Janice had dated one of the guys for a few weeks, and one night, in a fit of giggles, she’d informed Gwen that they had their own wall in the employee break room, just for their contributions. It made return visits interesting for a while.
She pushed the ‘call’ button on her cell phone once Gwen pulled the front door open. Janice watched as she snagged it out of her purse, looked at the display, and accepted the call. “Woman, I know you can see me from wherever you’re sitting inside.”
Janice laughed. “Actually, amazingly, I can’t. I’m not there yet. I was calling to make sure we were still on, though…” She drew out the last word with a little lilt at the end.
“Though?” Gwen asked as she disappeared from Janice‘s view into the restaurant. “Hold on, how close are you?”
“About five minutes. You?”
“I’m inside. I’m getting a table. You want tea?”
“What do you think?” Janice made a kissing sound into the phone. “See you soon, hon.”
“Bye, sweetie.” Gwen hung up.
The blonde tossed her phone on the passenger side seat and glanced at her watch. She’d said five minutes. If she showed up right now, Gwen would be suspicious, though there was the possibility that last night’s activities had worn her out.
Janice frowned. Was the chance to walk Ben around his house on a leash enough of a return for giving him access to Gwen? She kicked the floorboards. Should’ve kept my damned mouth shut. It had turned into “Let’s pick on Janice” night, and between the alcohol and their stinging barbs, she’d had enough. But the alcohol made her stupid, and the secret she’d kept for so long had just spilled out.
When Paul had suggested the bet, she’d bit her tongue. If she’d balked then, any respect she held in that group would have been lost. The thought had scared her. Those people were her friends, had been for almost a decade. They were the only people who accepted her for who she was. Even if they didn’t like what she did sometimes, she knew they still liked her.
So she’d agreed, channeling her fear into anger towards Ben. Once they had shaken hands, Janice had no intention of losing.
Getting Gwen’s consent had been easy, though, much to Janice’s dismay, not as easy as she thought it would be. She’d waited until Tuesday to call and invited her out for a night of fun, on the grounds that Gwen needed a post-parental distraction. The other woman had agreed with an exhausted sigh.
Janice had never had much interest in shorter women -- they tended toward ‘cute’, and she loved good eye candy -- but when Gwen opened the front door, she was taken aback. Normally, her best friend dressed up, but it always bordered on sweet, softly feminine: frilly skirts, angel-sleeved blouses, comfortable flats and nonexistent makeup. And to not outshine Gwen, Janice had started dressing more conservatively.
Tonight, Gwen’s long hair had been pulled up, shiny brown curls spilling from a conservative, sequined hair doodad on the top of her head. Her makeup was natural, almost invisible, except for the crimson lipstick she’d chosen.
It matched her blouse, the same deep red with plunging neckline, clung precariously to her shoulders, as if one shrug would send the fabric to her elbows. She had to be wearing an adhesive bra, something that would provide some support to her breasts but remain unseen against her top.
To complement the shirt, Gwen had chosen one of Janice’s personal favorites: a black leather mini-skirt. A thick, silver chain ran at an angle from the waist with a pair of thumb cuffs, one end dangling from a belt loop as the other held the belt secure. She wore knee-high, black leather boots over a pair of fishnet thigh-highs, the tops barely visible beneath the skirt’s hem.
Her best friend was gorgeous, something Janice had never honestly considered a possibility before. So, this is what Ben sees. The thought didn’t sit well with her. She’d always been the looks. Gwen just…was.
Her inner conflict must have shown on her face, because Gwen blanched. “What?”
Janice laughed. “Nothing. You just look damn sexy, Gwen. I feel underdressed,” she said, gesturing to her own business suit-like ensemble: a cream silk tank top under a royal blue jacket and matching mini-skirt.
The other woman blushed at the compliment. “You said we were going to The Black Rose. So I dressed up a little.”
“A little?” Janice rolled her eyes. “You’re walking into one of the best premier BSDM clubs in Baltimore looking like an expensive dessert from their restaurant. Woe be to any dom who thinks they are worthy.” She extended a hand. “Come on, you sexy thang. Let’s go make some men drool.”
The line outside The Black Rose wrapped around the block. The first level of the club catered to the more mundane partygoers, giving them several options -- trance, hip-hop, rap, country, techno and dance -- to sate their midweek appetites.
The second floor housed a five-star restaurant, Halo. Reservations were scarce. The menu didn’t list their prices, and the wine list was the envy of every other restaurant within five hundred miles. To reach Black Rose’s Abandon, you had to have a special invitation, be a regular, or come as a guest with one.
Janice had been given an invitation a few years ago, and she’d brought Gwen shortly after her best friend had moved to Baltimore. Her interest had fascinated Janice. She knew Gwen wasn’t completely new to the scene, but the small, shy girl she’d known in high school would’ve run screaming from the exhibitionists on the third floor.
It had been wicked fun to have Gwen watching in earnest as she’d made out with her boyfriends, but when she’d had sweet, little Gwen take notes -- notes! -- as she paddled the naked ass of her conquest of the week, Janice had experienced the most incredible rush. There was more than one reason they were still friends.
Together, they walked past the line and straight upstairs to Halo.
“Roman,” Janice said to the topless bouncer standing beside the elevator doors, the only access point to Abandon. The Rose’s owners knew good eye candy when they hired it. She stood on her tiptoes, one hand touching his broad shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.
He grabbed a handful of Janice’s ass as she moved away. “Janice. A new look for you, Gwen.” Her best friend just smiled. He pushed a button behind him, and the elevator doors hummed open. He ushered them inside, giving Gwen a wink as the doors slid closed.
“I think he approved of the outfit,” Gwen said.
Indeed. Janice faked a grin. “Yeah, well, I told you that you looked hot as hell. When have I ever steered you wrong?” The doors opened again, and drawing Gwen closer, Janice stepped out of the elevator.
The first time she’d brought Gwen here, her friend had whispered, “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She’d assured her that they were, but Janice understood why she would think that. The elevator led to a large lobby. There were two bars, one on each side of the room, and a handful of tables covered in fine linen.
Most of the patrons were dressed up, like they were attending a semi-formal charity ball. Leather abounded in different lengths, textures and colors.
She steered Gwen through the crowd with a few polite words to those she knew and nods to other familiar faces. There was an exhibition tonight she wanted them to see, and it was supposed to start soon.
When she’d called earlier to check on the night’s available activities, she’d been surprised to hear the manager say that they were doing a whole new series on submissive fantasies. An easy lead-in for the conversation she needed to have with Gwen.
“Gwen?” a familiar voice rumbled as they entered the main auditorium. Janice turned with Gwen. Shit.
Gwen pulled out of Janice’s grasp. “Rob? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged with a silly grin. “What’re you talking about? What are you doing here? Didn’t Janice tell you that I played, too?”
Janice glared at him over Gwen’s shoulder. “No, it must have slipped my mind. It’s not like you play often, Rob.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her and returned his attention back to Gwen. “So where have you been hiding this hottie?” He took Gwen’s hand and spun her around.
Gwen giggled. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself.” She traced the soft line of his bicep through the fine mesh fishnet shirt he wore over tight black leather pants. He’d slicked his sandy blonde hair back against his head, and the lack of his usual bangs made his brown eyes brighter. Janice approved of the look.
It occurred to Janice, as Gwen continued to preen in front of Rob, that her girl friend might not be as submissive as she’d thought. Gwen didn‘t drop her eyes when faced with a potential threat. Worse, she seemed to take his attention as an invitation to move closer and touch him in more intimate ways, her finger slipping beneath his sleeve. A little too close for Janice’s tastes.
And Rob wasn’t exactly a model sub. Maybe it was Ben’s influence -- she’d always considered Rob to be his lapdog -- but she knew from experience that he bucked at any show of dominance, challenging the dom at every turn and open opportunity. No amount of discipline would curb his smart ass antics.
Janice grabbed her other hand and pulled her away from Rob. He held onto her hand. Gwen gave them both a puzzled look, but Janice didn’t let go. “Come on, Gwen. We need to find some good seats. I think you’ll like this one.”
“Can I tag along?”
Before Janice could protest, Gwen said, “Sure, why not? Why don‘t you two go find seats? I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She gave Janice a kiss on the cheek, and when she went to hug Rob, he slid his hands down her back and made exaggerated moaning noises. She laughed and hit him on the head with her clutch. He released her with a pout that quickly turned into laughter as she batted at him once more before disappearing into the gathering throng.
Rob draped an arm over Janice’s shoulders. “Yeah, let’s go find seats.”
“Why are you here?” Janice asked as she shrugged off his arm. She rounded on him, arms crossed beneath her breasts. “You haven’t been to Abandon in months. Why the sudden interest?”
“The only reason -- come on, seats are filling up,” he said. He waited for her to make the next move.
Janice sighed and started down the aisle. “This doesn’t get you out of answering my question.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He followed her until they came to a nice row in the center front of the auditorium. As they settled in their seats, he continued. “Ben insisted that there be a witness to the consent with the whole, you know, illegal taping laws here.”
“Ben doesn’t trust me.”
Rob leaned back in his chair, his hands laced together behind his neck. “Big surprise there. I knew you’d be here, because you told Mel. She told Thomas, and well, after Ben heard about it, he insisted that one of us go. Other than you and Ben, I’m the only one with access to Abandon, so here I am.”
Janice removed her jacket and draped it across her legs. As she smoothed out the fabric, she said, “Keep your hands off her.”
“If she tells me to,” he replied with a grin she didn’t like. Was he implying that Gwen wasn’t hers?
“You know, you can back out of this bet anytime you want to, Janice. We’re not going to think less of you, and,” he paused and placed one hand on her thigh, “I think you’d look good in a collar, oh, Mistress.”
Janice pushed his hand off. “Not a chance in hell. You tell Ben to go with Mel to get the collar fitted. I want him to be comf…”
Rob interrupted her, clearing his throat. “Hi, Gwen.”
Janice turned around. “Hi, sweetie, that didn’t take very long.”
“Everyone was clearing out to get a good seat. Submissive Fantasies 101, eh?” She winked at Janice. “Let me sit between you.”
“Sounds good to me.” Rob smirked. “Janice?”
“Sure. Why not.” She stood up and gave Gwen her seat.
Rob offered Gwen a hand as she moved closer. “Don’t you stand when there’s a lady present?” She teased, grinning shyly.
His eyes widened, and he stole a glance at Janice before he stood up. “What was I thinking? Many humble apologies,” he said, bowing to her as she sat down. “How can I make it up to you?” He retook his seat, his attention all for her.
Gwen laughed, and the sound grated in Janice’s ears. “I didn’t take you for a sub, Rob.”
He laughed and rested a hand on Gwen’s thigh. “Oh, I’m a sub through and through. You?”
Janice watched as Gwen ran a hand over Rob’s knuckles. “I think I’m a sub. More fun, don’t you think? I’d much rather be tortured than have to do the torturing.”
Rob glanced over her shoulder, catching Janice’s eye as the house lights went down. “It’s all about control.”
A tall woman strode across the stage in a slinky green gown to roaring applause.
“That’s Mistress Eva,” Janice whispered into Gwen’s ear. “She hasn’t taught a seminar in years. This is a real treat.”
“Then I should thank you for bringing me,” Gwen replied before Rob tugged on her sleeve. She turned toward him, leaning forward until her forehead touched his shoulder, one hand drawing on his leather-clad leg. He whispered something in her ear, his eyes twinkling mischievously at Janice.
Janice prickled at her wording. She knew that Gwen meant it sincerely, so why did she suddenly feel like the other woman was being sarcastic? She shook the thought out of her head. Rob’s sudden appearance was throwing her off her game.
Mistress Eva motioned for quiet. “Are there any doms in the house tonight?” The auditorium broke out in more rancorous applause. “Are there any subs?”
Gwen and Rob howled along with the others. Mistress Eva frowned. “Did you ask for permission before you answered?” The room grew quiet with an occasional chuckle, Janice among them, and Eva laughed. “Just kidding! Good subbies always answer when spoken to, right, boys and girls?”
She motioned off-stage, and a dozen leather-clad men appeared, carrying various pieces of dungeon furniture. “Tonight, Abandon is pleased to present Submissive Fantasies 101. To be part of our family, you need to have an active imagination, but sometimes even the most submissive slave can feel that their fantasies are too goofy, too left field for even the most open-minded master or mistress.
“So I’m going to save them the embarrassment and share some of the fantasies I’ve received via our website. Wesley!”
A well-muscled black man crawled to her from stage right. At first Janice thought he was naked, but as he moved in front of his mistress, she saw a thin strip of fabric a shade darker than his skin running between his smooth buttocks.
“God, he’s beautiful,” she heard Gwen whisper beside her. She looked as her friend ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Rob winked. He trailed his fingers down Gwen’s back, and the woman shivered, curling her back as she leaned forward to allow him better access. Janice fought the urge to slap his hand away. He was fucking with her head.
“Wesley, my own personal Dread Pirate Roberts, is going to help demonstrate our first scene. Stand, slave.” He complied. She turned him around. “Remind me what this scene’s called, boy.”
“’Petticoat Junction‘, Mistress Eva.”
“Well, well, well, I’m not exactly dressed for that, now am I?” she asked the audience. Clapping her hands together, she called out, “Lydia, Marie.” Two women entered stage left, a large skirt held between them and the audience. They walked over to Eva, and dropping the skirt to her waist, Janice saw that they were dressed similarly to Wesley.
Mistress Eva patted them on the head and tweaked a nipple each after they tied the skirt on. “Good girls. You‘re dismissed.”
“The circle of play resides within the hem of this hoop skirt. Where’s my whip?” A half-dozen men and women streamed onto the stage, surrounding the mistress in various positions of submission, with a variety of whips and floggers held into the air. “Damn, it’s good to be me,” she said over their heads to the audience.
One by one, she dismissed the slaves, sometimes with just a touch, others with a firm slap across a bared breast or ass. After a few titillating moments, only a petite redhead remained with a long, firm length of a horse’s crop held aloft in her hand. Her pale back faced the audience, a human vase holding a delicately-arranged bouquet of curls.
“Ah, Adora, thank you, my precious.” Eva slipped the crop out of the woman’s grasp. Janice felt Gwen stiffen, a small sound escaping her lips, as the mistress brought the leather down against Adora’s back. A collective sigh rose once the skin reddened, a long welt brightening along her skin.
“You okay?” she heard Rob whisper.
Gwen nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Oh, yes. I like a little leather.”
Rob drew closer to her, his head rubbing along Gwen’s shoulder, one hand sliding down her thigh until his fingers brushed the exposed edge of her stockings. He raised his eyes, as if waiting for disapproval that never came. Instead she returned his gesture. Eyes still riveted on the stage, she caressed his head with her own. Then she reached up, touching the edge of his ear and down his cheek. He pulled back slowly and shot Janice a look of confusion.
She grimaced. Everything that happened tonight would get reported back to Ben. Dammit. Janice could almost see the gears turning in his head. Gwen’s smooth transition from verbal dom to physical sub were sending mixed signals. If she were really Janice’s sub, then she wouldn’t even attempt to be dominant to Rob. Dammit, dammit, dammit!
She tapped Gwen on the shoulder, and soft doe eyes met hers. “Pay attention. We’re here to learn, remember? Not to play with our friends.”
Gwen’s smirk widened into a silly grin. “Sorry, Mommy.” She pushed Rob’s thigh and with a finger to her lips, she shushed him. Motioning him closer, she whispered in his ear, and they both broke out in quiet giggles. But once they caught Janice staring at them, they both sat up straight, giving the mistress onstage their undivided attention.
The redhead crawled off stage, and Mistress Eva raised her skirts. “Wesley.” He moved beneath the fabric until only his toes were visible along the hem. “This, my fellow doms, is an exercise in movement.” She twitched, and as suddenly as she had used it before, she snapped the crop against the front of the skirt. An audible moan issued from within, and Eva just smiled. “Bad boy.”
She shifted, and his toes disappeared. “As I was saying before I was interrupted, this is an exercise in movement. Simply move,” she took a step to her left, exposing a clean line of his calf, “and if they don’t follow, staying within the skirt, punish them.” She cracked the crop again, its stiff tip biting across his calf as he sought to hide again.
Amidst cheers, she led Wesley along the width of the stage. He’s good, Janice thought as he managed to stay hidden. Eva caught him several times, and when she was done, she tapped the skirt, lifting it, and he reappeared, his small thong pulled tight by his erection.
“Stand, boy,” she ordered. Wesley did as he was bid, his body visibly trembling as she ran the crop down his chest. With a pleased smile, she kissed him on the cheek, her free hand grabbing his member. He licked his lips, and when she pointed off stage, he went.
“God, she can fuckin’ top me anytime she wants,” Rob moaned.
"Wonder if she has a brother?" Gwen teased. "Then we could double-play"
His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Fuck me! he mouthed to Janice behind Gwen’s back as the brunette whistled her appreciation towards the stage.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The night was going seriously downhill. She considered welching on the bet, but she didn’t think she would ever live it down.
No matter how the bet went down, she’d lose Gwen to the group. Rob would tell the guys, but what? That Gwen was a sub? A dom? A good giggle buddy? And what then? What would they say? She’d done a great deal to cultivate the idea that Gwen was some sophisticated, fragile flower. Her own stupidity had quashed most of that, but could she salvage the rest?
Janice clenched big fistfuls of her jacket. This wasn’t turning out right at all. She was being paranoid. Gwen had been her friend first and forever. Nothing would change, not really. Not if she could help it.
“A big round of applause for Wesley!”
The crowd roared.
Mistress Eva curtsied. Then she clapped her hands twice, and a flurry of human bodies flooded the stage. The two women, Lydia and Marie, reappeared and removed the skirt. Furniture was rearranged, and the people took various positions over them.
“Now we started with something small, yes? That was only an hors d’oeuvre. May I present the main course?” She motioned in a semi-circle behind her. The light on the stage faded, and a single spotlight appeared over a woman standing naked with a bowl of fruit in one hand and a long, thin box in the other.
Mistress Eva stepped into the circle. Using the crop, she lifted the woman’s chin. “Fantasy?”
“’Summer’s Fruit’, Mistress.”
Eva grinned. “Ah, a simple favorite. We are going to do a little precautionary wrapping -- wouldn’t want the fruit to go bad before we’re ready to eat it -- and we’ll be on our way.” She snapped her fingers, and a dark arm reached out from the shadows to the slave’s left and plucked the box out of her hand.
“Wesley,” Janice murmured, happy to see the man moving into the light. She agreed with Gwen’s earlier assessment. He was a beautiful man. Still wearing only the thong, he proceeded to display the box for the audience.
“Oh, Saran Wrap,” Rob chuckled. Janice looked at him, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He had one arm draped over Gwen’s shoulders, playing with the curls on her shoulder. Janice frowned. Just ignore it. She looked back to the stage.
Wesley had pulled the roll out of the box and, starting on the woman’s left arm, begun to wrap it around her back. As he walked around her, another slave stepped in, taking the fruit out of her hand; he knelt beside the mistress with the bowl on his head, held steady with one hand. The female slave kept her arm up, waiting until Mistress Eva tapped it with the crop. Then she lowered it.
“As you can see, our little subbie, Diana, is going to be properly packaged for me,” Eva said. She picked two small, dark fruits from the bowl. “Wesley.”
He took them from her and pulling the plastic wrap across Diana, he positioned one over each nipple, securing them to the woman with another revolution of the roll. He came around her, covering her a little lower until her torso was encased in the shiny film.
“I’ve done this,” Janice heard Gwen whisper. “It’s a lot of fun.” Her friend pulled away from Rob, and cupping her hand over an ear, she said, “This is something I forgot to tell you that Marshall showed me.”
Janice raised a brow. It had been a while since that name had been brought up. “Marshall?”
Gwen waved it off with a giggle. “I’ll tell you later.” She cozied up to Rob again, and Janice could see her left hand walking up one his thighs and disappear out of her sight. Rob tugged gently at the back of Gwen’s blouse and tucked his fingers into her waist band.
Gwen shifted, and Janice smiled. He’d crossed the line. But her grin faded as Gwen took his hand and moved it around her waist, half his hand disappearing under her shirt.
Janice flicked his hand, and he looked at her. She shook her head, pointing at his hand. He pulled his hand out enough to flip her off, and with a smirk, he slid it back in further, until Janice couldn’t see his knuckles. She forced herself to ignore him, unwilling to take the bait.
A loud snap grabbed her attention, and as she looked back at the scene on the stage, she saw that Wesley had dropped the roll. Mistress Eva shook her head, flicked the crop again, and the sound made Janice jump. His skin was too dark to see the welt, but as he bent down to retrieve the plastic wrap, she saw that he was erect again.
Wesley finished mummifying Diana in the plastic wrap under Mistress Eva‘s watchful eye. A large, bright green apple sat suspended within the layers between the slave’s thighs, just below her crotch. He ripped the film from the roll, handed it to the fruit bowl slave who disappeared into the shadows, and smoothed his handiwork.
Then he went and knelt before Mistress Eva. “As you can see,” she said, ignoring him as she moved toward Diana. “She has been completely covered. Our Diana does not like having her head covered, and as a caring domme, I’ve not required it. If you do, please remember to allow openings for the nose and mouth. Never, ever put anything bigger than a ball gag in their mouth when performing this exercise.
“Now, I know those of you who aren’t familiar with this fantasy are wondering, where’s the fun? Wesley, scissors.” He reached into the darkness, and Janice saw the shadow of a person pass him a pair of shiny silver scissors. He crawled on his knees over to the mistress and offered them to her.
“This is a cocoon experience, ladies and gents,” Eva said as she plucked the scissors off his open palms. “To enjoy the fruits of your labor, you must awaken the patient butterfly.” She tapped the scissors against her chin. “Let’s see…Wesley, do you like plums?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“I bet you have nice plums,” Rob whispered. His hand moved higher, and Janice could see a long line of bared skin. She’d been right; Gwen wasn’t wearing a regular bra. A matted nude corner of an adhesive bra showed beneath his fingers.
“Rob!” Gwen hissed. She yanked his hand down. “God, do you want to show my breasts to the entire auditorium?” Janice stifled a laugh. Gwen’s boundaries might be a little farther out than she’d originally anticipated, but the woman still had them. Good thing to know.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, throwing his hand up by his chest in surrender. “I didn’t mean…” He cast a look at Janice, but she just shrugged. He got himself into it; the bastard could get himself out.
“Is that a good plum, Wesley?”
Janice turned to see the fruit discarded on the floor and Wesley’s head positioned over Diana’s breast. For a half-second she wondered if it was all posturing, but when the woman moaned, well, Janice thought about asking for Wesley’s number after the show.
“Did you see…?” Janice started to ask, the words dying on her tongue as she saw Gwen move Rob’s hand beneath the hem of her skirt.
“What?” Gwen smiled, ignoring her friend‘s questioning glance. “I’m telling you, if you haven’t done this with a sub, you really need to, Janice.”
She was pissed, but what could she do? Tell them to stop? Gwen would laugh it off. And Rob, well, he’d just add it to the growing list of things to report back to Ben. No, she would fix this later, somehow. Until then, she’d just enjoy the show.
On stage, Wesley had removed both plums and the apple. Diana twitched and shuddered, her wrapping making her balance haphazard. Twice, he had to catch her, and he did so without his mouth ever leaving the opening over her crotch.
“Enough, Wesley,” Mistress Eva commanded, nudging his head with the crop. “Another good thing about this fantasy is this -- Wesley?”
He stood up, grabbed Diana and flipped her sideways. A spanking bench was pushed into their spotlight, and he bent her over it with one hand and ripped a sizeable hole over her ass with the other. He straddled her legs and pressed himself against her. Diana cried out in appreciation as he rolled his hips against her.
Mistress Eva put her hands on her hips. “Any questions?” She smacked the crop across her palm. “Didn’t think so.”
The spotlight moved away from Wesley and Diana to the audience. “We have one more presentation for you before intermission, but I will need two delicious little subs to volunteer. Any takers?”
The light swirled across their heads, and hands popped up everywhere. Janice looked at Gwen and saw her and Rob holding hands, giggling and whispering furiously. Gwen shook her head. Rob touched her face with his other hand and whispered something Janice couldn’t hear. Gwen shrugged.
Mistress Eva made a big show of her consideration of the dozens of prospective volunteers. “You’re not ready, Harrison,” she cooed to the left section amid laughter. “No, ladies and gents, I am looking for two special subbies.” The light continued its journey around the room.
“Sorry, hon, your dress is nicer than mine. Can’t have you showing me up onstage,” she chided a tall brunette standing a few rows in front of them. More laughter erupted as the woman pouted.
“Come on, aren’t there any truly delectable delights out there?” She leaned forward, hand over her eyes, scanning the crowd. The light darted away. “Go back, go back,” Eva called out, pointing back to the middle of the auditorium. “I think we missed a couple in the center here.
“Yes, you two will do just fine,” Mistress Eva purred, pointing her crop. “Nothing better than two subs who are so obviously comfortable with each other.” The light settled to Janice’s right.
Janice turned to see the lucky pair. “No fucking way,” she groaned.
Gwen and Rob had stood up, their hands together and in the air.

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