Negotiations 33
Hi, guys! I've made a return to 2nd person, and the words began to flow, so this chapter didn't take so long. Please comment & let me know your thoughts. The more comments, the more psyched I get to write more.
Start at the beginning or go back to Negotiations 32.
a return to 2nd person
NEGOTIATIONS 33
JUSTIN’S POV
Prior to your much anticipated Saturday night activities, you and Brian spend a few hours running errands and tending to tasks that need to be done. You chose the tasks involving shopping because you didn’t want to be the one figuring out if the maniacal raccoon that likes to sleep in your pool house had actually, officially, been evicted. When you returned from your errands, Brian met you in the garage to help you unload and to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to get his cigarettes. That’s when your antennae went up, the super sensitive one that can detect a particular type of warm static between you increasing. You can feel it in the way Brian chooses what to carry inside, the way he holds the door from the garage to the kitchen open a little longer than necessary, the way he smiles as he puts the groceries away. Just to see if you’re picking up what you think you are, you purposely assist him less and less until he’s absorbed the entire responsibility and you’re just standing there. He starts to fold the paper bags and you lean your body against the counter, your hands curved into the sink. A stranger would think that you’re looking out of your kitchen window, maybe lost in a daydream, but you’re not.
You’re just waiting.
Waiting for him to walk to the laundry room, put the bags away, and come back to you with purpose. Purpose is something Brian rarely exists without. He stands behind you, his large hands curving around your biceps. “Was it busy?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“The store. Was it busy?”
“Oh yeah, more or less. Lots of designer yoga pants.”
Brian’s thumbs start to massage your shoulder blades, and your head hangs in response. “You still want to go tonight?” he asks.
“Definitely.”
“We need to go over some guidelines then.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to go downstairs and wait for me.”
“Oh, you mean--?”
“Yeah. I’ll be down in about five minutes.”
“What are we doing?”
Brian leans down and speaks into your ear, “Preparation.”
You smile out the window as he leaves a kiss on your cheek.
**********
The dungeon is open when you get there, the door cracked about six inches, the lights on, water and nuts stocked on the nightstand. You sit on the bed, cross your legs, and clear out your phone, making sure there’s no one unanswered or left hanging. When you hear his footsteps on the stairs, you mute the device and put it face down next to the water. When Brian enters, he has your evening’s clothes stacked in his arms, your diamond collar on top. He sits them on an empty chair, and then squats beside the bed, making a hand motion everyone who’s five years and up understands. You hang your feet off the mattress and watch him untie your shoes, take them off and then peel your socks away. He massages your feet as you stroke his hair; he pushes his thumb between each one of my toes. “That feels really good,” you let him know.
He smiles and then asks you, “Good. Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
“And on a scale of one to ten, how well do I take care of you?” he asks next.
“Twelve.”
“Follow instructions, Justin,” he admonishes.
You roll your eyes, “Ten.”
“Thank you. That’s better.” You grin at him as he stands up and then instructs you to lie back on the bed. He lies beside you, his hand spread wide on your torso. His eyes study your face, “We need to go over a few things about tonight,” he says.
“Okay.” You like looking up at the cut of Brian’s jaw; you asked him not to shave today, and he didn’t.
“First, the posture we’re in right now, that’s how we’re going to stay until I say otherwise, okay?” You nod; he doesn’t mean your literal posture; he means your roles. “That being said, if you feel uncomfortable at any time, I need you to tell me. There’ll be a lot to pay attention to there tonight, and if I miss a cue or misread something, you need to check in with me, I want you to promise me that you will.”
“I promise.”
“If you decide you don’t like watching the initiation or it gets to be too much, that’s okay. We can leave at any time or we can take a break for a few minutes if you feel overwhelmed.”
“Brian, come on. You don’t need to lecture me; I can handle myself.”
“I know you can, but your state of mind will be different than it is right now.” You curl toward him intentionally so he’ll fold you in his arms. “What?” he inquires, suspicious of your affection.
“You are quite purposely fucking with my state of mind right now.”
“I told you.. preparation.” He kisses you and right as you close your eyes, you decide not to because he’s talking again, “It’s not just how I feel or how you feel when we’re there tonight; it’s how we feel. If you start to feel like a me instead of a we, that’s the moment you need to flag for me, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“Are you going to wear your four star general uniform, too, or is that just for right now?” you tease him, “Because if you keep this up, I’m going to start saluting you three times a day at least.”
“Naked,” Brian adds, “You mean saluting me naked,” and then pushes you onto your back, simultaneously pushing your shirt up and planting a kiss on your sternum. He drags his scruff across your skin and then stops to suck on a nipple. You get goose bumps everywhere, and he can feel them. He laughs against your chest. “This only ever happens with your left nipple,” Brian reminds you.
“I know; I can’t control it.”
The more attention he pays to your nipple, the more you feel each flick of his tongue, the more you feel your goose bumps feel becoming a mountain range. You stare at the ceiling until you feel a vicious pinch and look down to see a black metal clamp where his mouth once was. Brian brushes his hand across your face like he’s trying to wipe away the betrayed expression you must be wearing. “Be a good boy for me,” he says.
“That fucking hurts,” you whine, and Brian looks at you with pity, his voice deceptively sweet, “I know. I’m sorry. Take your shirt off.” You obey begrudgingly because you know what’s going to happen next. His body glides over yours to land on your other side. Your mind wants to reject him but your body won’t, and he knows that; he uses your weaknesses against you. And while he’s sucking hard on your other nipple, you feel his hand race down your stomach to your jeans.
If only you weren’t so hard.
Because he teases you, tells you what it means, runs his fingertip over the wet, back and forth, moaning all the while because your pain is pleasure for him. “This is how I know you’re a pain slut,” Brian says, “Because if I gave you a choice right now: either stop the pain or make you come, we both know what you’d choose.”
“Don’t embarrass me,” you complain.
“With the truth? You’re embarrassed by the truth?” he badgers.
“Yes, okay....yes.”
“Okay, well there’s no rush. There’s plenty of time for you to prove me wrong.”
He starts pushing your pants down, and once they’re off, he makes you watch the second clamp, spreads it open and then fakes you out multiple times before letting it bite. You bitch at him again, although you know it’s pointless; the expression on his face is making you very unsettled. You’re naked; he’s not, and he’s very happy to be toying with you. He kisses you, and you try to use that time to suss out any iota of power you might have in this weird situation.
I could resist….
I could seduce him…
But all of that is a fool’s errand.
***********
By the time you and Brian get in his Mercedes to go to Release a couple of hours later, your ass is throbbing and your pants feel too tight. You rotate which cheek is actually touching the seat until Brian tells you to stop. He finds your complaining to be a bit much. He has your seat warmer blasting which you suspect is intentional to make everything worse, but you don’t mention it because you don’t want to know if you’re right.
The preparation for the evening’s outing was more intense than you expected. You were across Brian’s lap for an extended time by any measure, and he was dressed for all of it. He ‘punished’ you for the unapproved waxing and made you fuck far too many dildos to the edge of orgasm over and over only to be pulled back, denied, and spanked again for trying. When the painful attention finally paused, it confused you as you panted and expected more. “You’re done,” Brian said, and when you asked a breathy, unsatisfied, Why?, he told you it was because your facial expression had locked. You were no longer differentiating between pain and pleasure.
And, that, he said, was what he wanted.
Still across his lap, your face numb, your lips hanging heavy like they were filled with lumpy cookie dough, you asked, “Please, do I get to come?” His touch no longer agonizing, he took control of your body again, holding you in position as he extricated himself and then drug you by your hips to the edge of the bed. You watched through your armpit as he unzipped his jeans; you watched his hand pumping his cock only once, and then you watched his face as he started to fuck you. You forgot all about the pain when he filled you, and it wasn’t until you felt his hands on your stomach and then your chest that you remember those fucking clamps were still there. You watched in helpless fright as Brian’s fingers found, manipulated and opened each one; you let a yelp escape your throat and vanish into the mattress.
“Shhh,” he told your shoulder blades, “Concentrate on coming for me, okay?”
That train was already barrelling down the final track, so you stiffened, “Harder, okay? Harder-- Fuck me--”
It felt like a head-on collision at seventy five miles an hour, and then it was over. Your body flattened like a magic carpet for his body. With a soothing voice and hands, Brian explained that what he’d put you through was necessary because he wanted to, “Make it easy for you to remember who you belong to once you’re in a crowded room watching men doing god’s know what for their own satisfaction.”
“Why in the world would you think I’d forget that?” you ask him.
“It’s not really what you think. I guess I want you to feel it all over your skin, to know it tactically.”
“Brian, I’ll be right next to you wearing a diamond studded collar that cost as much as a used car. There isn’t a soul within five hundred miles who wouldn’t know that I belong to you.”
“I like to think they’d know in outer space,” he muses and points to the moon through the windshield, “That’s why I bought the one with all the diamonds.”
He is slightly bananas.
…...
You decide to bring the conversation back to this world with a statement of truth, “My nipples hurt, by the way. They’re gonna bruise.”
Brian looks over at you and rubs his hand over your thigh, “I have pain pills. Do you want one?”
You sigh, “No, not yet, but thank you.”
Brian thinks of everything all the time.
***********
Release is so packed when you arrive that Brian texts Dave to get you inside. He sends Rusty, who always smells like he’s just had non-con sex with a farm animal, to escort you. When you get into the lobby, you can see Dave in his office looking ecstatic. Brian muscles both of you in and Dave extols Brian’s advertising skills because he’s going to clear twice what he thought he’d bring in. Brian looks back at you and raises his eyebrows which is his way of telling you that’s good news for your bank account. But then Dave’s expression darkens, “But there are so many people waiting online and outside that we’re gonna have to split this into two shows.”
“Tonight? Both shows?” Brian asks.
“Yeah, I can’t lose this momentum. No way. I guess we’re going to initiate the same slave twice.”
Brian again glances back at you with raised eyebrows, and you scold him, “Get that idea out of your head. That’s not happening.”
He winks at you, “Worth a shot, though, right?”
“No, not really,” you scoff.
“Offer folks twenty percent back if they agree to be bumped to the second show,” Brian suggests.
“My thoughts as well, but I can’t pretend the second show is the first initiation. We have to have some integrity.”
Brian suggests that you and he check out the crowd and see if there are any good candidates for an unplanned second show. You demure and let Brian do it with Rusty (who reminds you of the Irish Spring guy only he doesn’t actually use the soap) while you wait in the comfort of Dave’s office. “You look very nice tonight, Justin,” he says, “Did Brian dress you?”
“How can you tell?” you ask in your tight black dress shirt, tight black pants, and diamond collar visible inside your shirt collar.
“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch.” There’s a tap on the door and Dave speaks, “It’s open.” Josh steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He grins when he sees you sitting there, “Well, hello. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” You offer as little eye contact as possible because you don’t know if Dave knows what happened two nights ago. You hope no one knows, but then you wonder if that’s why everyone’s so friendly. Josh turns to Dave, “So, do we have a plan?”
“We’re working on it. Brian and Rusty are looking for a possible second slave in the crowd out there.” You intentionally stare at your shoes because you don’t want either of them to think there is any chance of you volunteering. Just then, the door to the small room opens again, and Brian and Rusty are back. “That was quick? Any luck?”
“No,” Brian says.
“No one I’d be comfortable with,” Rusty adds.
“Well, we can’t schedule show two on next Saturday night because the lesbians have it. We have to figure something out,” Dave announces defeated. “We need this money. Think of something,” he tells Josh, and he and Rusty nod and leave the office. You look at your watch.
Show number one starts in half an hour.
***********
The idea came to you as you watched Dave and Brian brainstorm while an old light bulb above the desk hissed and went out. Both men sighed. “Brian,” you said, leaning forward and tapping on his shoulder, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dave decided to step out, mumbling about how the renovation they eventually do at Release will give this office a private bathroom. Brian turned around in his chair, “What’s up?”
“I have an idea that might work.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. What if you use the same slave for both shows but let the second show be like an informed initiation for him and the audience?”
“I don’t understand.”
“So sometimes when I watch this kind of adult entertainment--”
“Just say porn,” Brian teases.
“Whatever. When the scene is over, they let you watch the aftermath, like the debrief where the dom talks with the sub or subs and asks how they like it and what they liked the most and what they liked the least. Sometimes they even show some aftercare. So, it’s two initiations but there’s a break in the middle where the dom collects feedback from the sub and then part two resumes with that feedback incorporated, like more choking and less caning or whatever.”
“Hmm, that might work,” Brian muses, “Although I am slightly in awe of your BDSM porn scene structure recall.”
“I have a lot of free time, okay? Anyway, they’ll have to prep the slave beforehand so he knows what’s happening. Well, you have to prep everyone actually.”
You give Dave your pitch when he returns, and he says it’s worth a try. “Can you go float this idea to Josh and his slave?” he asks you, “So Brian and I can work out the staging?”
You’re surprised, “You want me to pitch it?”
“Please. Time is ticking away.”
Brian smiles at you, “You can handle it. They’re in that horrible room down the hall on the left.”
“Um, okay. I’ll go pitch it.” You bounce on your toes for some inane reason and then calm yourself down.
Brian grips your forearm as you turn to walk out, “If it’s a no, text me immediately. Otherwise, we’ll assume it’s all good.”
“Okay.”
He kisses you quickly and then releases you so you can go. You maneuver your way down the packed hallway. You tap on the closed door and hear, “Just a minute, please,” clearly Josh’s voice.
……
As you wait, you decide that this is good practice if you and Brian are going to get your own slave one day, so maybe you’ll just go with this and see what happens. When Josh opens the door, he pulls it closed behind him and addresses you in the hallway, “Can I help you?”
You explain the idea you came up with and Josh says it’s worth a try, but he would prefer that you present it to Eighty-four instead of him in case Eighty-four isn’t okay with it. “I don’t want him to think he has to do this for me because of our power dynamic, okay?”
“Yeah, um, okay.”
“Okay, come get me or text me when you’re done.”
“The guys are trying to work out the staging,” you tell him, “Because you have to have a place for this interaction to happen on camera.”
Who knew I could direct?
“Right, right,” Josh nods, “Okay. I’ll go check that out.”
He leaves and you inhale and open the door to the ugliest room on the planet and see Eighty-four at the far end of the room on the decrepit khaki couch. He’s wearing a black silky bathrobe and his legs are tucked underneath him. “Hi, I’m Justin,” you say as you walk toward him, your hand extended.
“Matt,” he says, gesturing with his entire lanky body, “I mean ‘Eighty-four.’” You shake his numbered hand and discern that he’s in his early twenties and extremely skinny. As he moves to make room for you on the sofa, you see that the outline of his knees seems to jab and poke the air rather than glide through it. He has dingy light brown hair that’s cut way too choppy and there’s some dirt under his fingernails. His eyes are a fierce blue, though. Every other feature is just angle upon angle, like someone threw his bones in the air and just put them back together in no logical order. “Is there something wrong?” he asks you and that’s when you realize that you’re wearing your thoughts on your face. You shake your head and smile intentionally, “Wrong? No. Unforeseen? A little.”
Matt gives you a quizzical look, “What do you mean?”
“Well, apparently, there’s a unexpectedly high demand to watch your initiation tonight. There are so many people here in person and in the queue online that they may need to make some adjustments.”
“Do you work here?” he asks you, “Are you like in charge of all the slaves?”
You laugh, “No, no. I’m not in charge of anyone--”
“I just thought that’s what your collar meant or something,” he observes.
You run your finger across the diamonds and clarify, “No, no. I apologize. Let me explain a little better. My husband runs an ad agency, and Release, this place, is a client. We were here just to watch tonight, but the demand’s so high, he’s helping them troubleshoot.”
“Oh, okay.”
“And I had an idea so they asked me to come talk to you.”
“About what?”
“This is just a brainstorm I had, so you don’t have to say yes or anything. They have to have two distinct shows because there’s a limit on how many people can be in that dungeon. You know, fire marshall rules and all that.”
“Right.”
“So my thought was, maybe they can split your initiation into two shows. First show goes as already planned but a little shorter, and then there’s an intermission and a chance for you to talk with….Master...Josh on camera about what you liked and didn’t like, and then they do the second show, again, shorter, and they incorporate your feedback into it. But, also, let me stop and ask, is this your first time ever in a slave role?”
“Oh, no. Just my first time on camera and with this many Doms.”
“Whew, okay. So what do you think about the idea?”
Matt hums a little as he considers your offer, straightens his legs out and flexes his feet making his ankles crack loudly before he pulls them back in. “I think it works.”
“Okay, I’ll go tell Josh.” You bounce up off the sofa, “Nice to meet you.”
“Wait, though, I have a question.”
You turn around, “Yeah?”
“Will you be there?”
“Be where?”
“In that scene where I give the feedback?”
“Oh, no. I’m not a part of this or anything.”
“I’ll do it if you’re there, like you ask me the questions because I won’t exactly be in a sober state of mind and I’ve never officially played with Josh.”
Yeah, but you don’t know me either,” you offer as a deterrent to this idea.
Matt leans forward, his giant bare feet on the floor, “I just had a conversation with you on a sofa on how a scene might go. I know you well enough to think you’re qualified to have another conversation with me on a different piece of furniture.”
His skinny ass has a really good point.
“What if I go find another guy who’s actually works here to do it with you?” you try.
“I want you. I feel comfortable with you.” And then he points to the clock on the wall, “We’re already going to start late.”
“Okay, fine. Fair enough. I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.”
“Have a good scene.”
You walked out in the hall making sure the door clicked shut behind you and saw that the dungeon was open now and already halfway full of spectators.
Why do I get roped into shit every time I come here?
….
Ha, good one.
***********
You and Brian are ushered into the dungeon just as the doors are closing. The room is almost uncomfortably full. You tug on Brian’s arm and pull him against the cinder block wall and whisper, “I need you to put my collar in your pocket.” Due to the outfit Brian picked out for you, you don’t have a suitable pocket of your own. He refuses. “Please,” you implore.
“No. Just leave it on.”
“I don’t want to wear it on camera,” you explain.
“Why not?”
You glance around and further lower your voice, leaning toward him, “Because I’m the best looking submissive in here by a mile, and they think this collar means I’m their leader.”
Brian laughs, “Just button your shirt higher. You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know why I agreed to this. Fuck.” As you bitch, Brian steers you through the crowd in the red zone, his hand on your lower back. “Okay, this is really fucked because I can’t even see anything,” you continue.
“Want me to put you on my shoulders like we’re at Disney World?”
“Maybe,” you grouse, “How can I interview him about an initiation I didn’t see happen?”
“Okay, okay, stay put. I’ll fix this.”
You watch him disappear into the throng of horny men, and when he returns, he has a small step ladder. He props it open and gestures with his open hand, “Here, your highness.”
“How’d you find this?”
“Secret closet. I know things.”
You have to climb to the actual tippy top of the ladder to see anything, so Brian holds you steady from your less than subtle perch in the back of the room. It occurs to you that were you to hold your arms out to your sides, you’d look like a kinky version of that Jesus statue in Rio de Janeiro. The location gives you an amazing view of all the bald spots in progress. “Let me know if anything good happens,” Brian jokes.
“Whose idea was it to have like zero seating in here?” you wonder aloud.
“It’s a learning process. It’ll be okay. I’m eye level with your butt so I’m good either way.”
You’d kick him but it would result in an you falling and busting your ass, so you just swing your hip into his head. “Foreplay?” he asks.
“Shut up.” Brian moves his steadying hand between your legs, running it up your thigh. He presses his thumb between your cheeks. “Would you stop that please?” you request.
“Um, no. I thought I was going to sit on that one loveseat over there and get to fondle you through this whole thing, but you had to go and give yourself a job,” Brian laments.
“I was trying to help solve your client’s problem.”
“Well, no good deed goes unpunished, that’s for sure.”
“That’s how it should be. Punishment is awesome.”
“That’s my boy,” he teases. The room quiets down, and Dave addresses the overflow crowd and suggests that people be cognizant that not everyone has a good vantage point, that the crowd is larger than expected but that he needs and expects a certain amount of decorum because what we’re about to watch is not acting; it’s real. Then, he explains how the evening will work, how they are dealing with the overflow, and the use of safe words and safe zones in the space. When this is done, Josh leads a nude Matt from the wall to the center of the space on a leash. His hands are cuffed in front of him. Josh assists him as he kneels on a small wooden platform about two to three feet off the ground. He secures the collar leash to the back edge of the platform to keep Matt where he is and then he blindfolds and gags him.The gag is a steel open mouth style. It looks very uncomfortable.
A three minute period begins in which anyone in the room can come up and explore Eighty-four, touch him in any way they like. Participants can speak to him, but he is not permitted to respond. He’s fondled roughly, verbally degraded and one Dom you don’t know by name spits in his open mouth which then gives everyone else the same idea and triggers a spit train. When that three minutes is up, Josh unhooks the leash from the platform and changes the gag in Eighty-four’s mouth to a ball gag before repositioning him on all fours. The leash is secured again in a way that forces the slave to keep his head upright and focused straight ahead on all of you. Another three minute timer is set, and the process begins again. Some folks in the yellow and red zones (the ones not in ass-less chaps mostly) decide to sit down, so Brian can finally see what’s going on, his head leaning against your thigh. You feel like Matt is using you like a birthing focal object throughout this humiliation. His eyes stay fixated on your face.
You ponder coming off the ladder or at least maybe sitting on it vs standing, but Eighty-Four is using your elevated position to get him through the scene and Brian’s thumb feels really good. You aren’t even sure if he’s aware that it’s moving, massaging you. You reach down and stroke his hair and his fingers tighten around your leg in response.
Eighty-four is released and moved again; this time to the St. Andrew’s cross. Josh gives an explanation about pain tolerance. There are three hooded nude slaves moved to one side of the cross in a kneeling position. They keep their heads down. Throughout the impact play on the cross, you focus more on Josh than on Matt. He’s shirtless in a pair of tight black pants. Josh is beautiful in that all American man kind of way. Anyone who met him outside of a kinky situation, would never think he was anything but pure sweet vanilla. He’s completely unlike Brian in that way because while Brian exudes sex appeal twenty-four seven, Josh gives off the complete opposite vibe. It’s odd but interesting.
As the first half comes to a close, Dave tells folks to feel free to leave the room, take a bathroom break, etc, while they set up for the transition. You look to your right and see two slaves you don’t know pick up the maroon leather loveseat and begin to move it to the front of the room. Both slaves smile at you. You recognize one of them as Sixty, the guy in the suspended cage on your first outing here. You smile back and tell Brian you’re ready to come down.
***********
Prior to your on-camera interview with Eighty-four, you finally convince Brian to hold onto your collar just while you’re on camera. He rolls his eyes at you and rolls the collar in his fingers, crossing his arms and leaning against a wall. You introduce him to Matt and Brian nods and gives him a cursory hello. The interview lasts about five minutes during which the audience has reassembled but agrees to be quiet. You ask Eighty-four how he feels, specifically referring to him by his number. He seems happy and comments about the red marks on his back from the impact play. “I like those kind of reminders, I guess.” Josh compliments him, says he’s very proud of his slave so far, and he looks forward to part two. When you ask Eighty-four what he’s looking forward to in the second half, he points to the four or five Doms off camera, “Them. I can’t wait to see what they do to me.” Someone off camera starts clapping, and laughter rumbles through the room. “We promise to do our very best, and take very good care of you when we’re done,” Josh confirms.
Filming stops, and you return to Brian to get your collar back and tell him that you need to pee. He follows you into the single use bathroom, “You did really well. You weren’t nervous at all,” he compliments you. “My heart was pounding like crazy,” you tell him, “I was not comfortable at all.” Brian hugs you from behind as you urinate, “Well, nobody could tell. You’re like a slave whisperer now.”
“Let’s get in there and get that love seat before anybody else,” you tell him. “I don’t want to stand the entire time.”
“Okay, I’ll pee fast.”
The two of you get back inside the dark room just as the slaves are putting the loveseat back in place. You throw yourself on it the second they let go of it. Sixty laughs at you, “Hey, you did pretty good with him. We all liked it.”
“I was so freaked out, I barely remember it,” you admit to him.
“I’m glad you came back. I heard, you know, that your first time here was gonna be your last.”
“I just decided not to be a slave on the roster; that’s all.” Sixty nods and steps away to tell the other slaves how to arrange furniture for the second show. Brian sits down next to you and puts his arm around you. You lean against him. He smells your hair and comments, “Finally, I get you all to myself.”
“I think this part is going to be a real live gang bang. Is that what you think?” you ask him.
“Pretty much. Is that okay with you?”
You smile, “Yeah. I’m excited.”
“Then so am I,” Brian agrees. You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his hand that hangs over your shoulder. “I’m already hard,” Brian whispers to you.
“Of course, you are. You had your thumb up my butt for forty-five minutes.”
“Pardon me, but I don’t recall you complaining.”
“Shhh,” you tell him, “Here we go,” as Dave quiets the room and then addresses the entire room full of new attendees. You and Brian are the only audience members that were present for the first show. You like that; no one really knows you, and it leaves you and Brian to concentrate on one another.
But the make out session you were eagerly anticipating was not to be for a reason you’d never met before.
Negotiations 34
Start at the beginning or go back to Negotiations 32.
a return to 2nd person
NEGOTIATIONS 33
JUSTIN’S POV
Prior to your much anticipated Saturday night activities, you and Brian spend a few hours running errands and tending to tasks that need to be done. You chose the tasks involving shopping because you didn’t want to be the one figuring out if the maniacal raccoon that likes to sleep in your pool house had actually, officially, been evicted. When you returned from your errands, Brian met you in the garage to help you unload and to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to get his cigarettes. That’s when your antennae went up, the super sensitive one that can detect a particular type of warm static between you increasing. You can feel it in the way Brian chooses what to carry inside, the way he holds the door from the garage to the kitchen open a little longer than necessary, the way he smiles as he puts the groceries away. Just to see if you’re picking up what you think you are, you purposely assist him less and less until he’s absorbed the entire responsibility and you’re just standing there. He starts to fold the paper bags and you lean your body against the counter, your hands curved into the sink. A stranger would think that you’re looking out of your kitchen window, maybe lost in a daydream, but you’re not.
You’re just waiting.
Waiting for him to walk to the laundry room, put the bags away, and come back to you with purpose. Purpose is something Brian rarely exists without. He stands behind you, his large hands curving around your biceps. “Was it busy?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“The store. Was it busy?”
“Oh yeah, more or less. Lots of designer yoga pants.”
Brian’s thumbs start to massage your shoulder blades, and your head hangs in response. “You still want to go tonight?” he asks.
“Definitely.”
“We need to go over some guidelines then.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to go downstairs and wait for me.”
“Oh, you mean--?”
“Yeah. I’ll be down in about five minutes.”
“What are we doing?”
Brian leans down and speaks into your ear, “Preparation.”
You smile out the window as he leaves a kiss on your cheek.
**********
The dungeon is open when you get there, the door cracked about six inches, the lights on, water and nuts stocked on the nightstand. You sit on the bed, cross your legs, and clear out your phone, making sure there’s no one unanswered or left hanging. When you hear his footsteps on the stairs, you mute the device and put it face down next to the water. When Brian enters, he has your evening’s clothes stacked in his arms, your diamond collar on top. He sits them on an empty chair, and then squats beside the bed, making a hand motion everyone who’s five years and up understands. You hang your feet off the mattress and watch him untie your shoes, take them off and then peel your socks away. He massages your feet as you stroke his hair; he pushes his thumb between each one of my toes. “That feels really good,” you let him know.
He smiles and then asks you, “Good. Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
“And on a scale of one to ten, how well do I take care of you?” he asks next.
“Twelve.”
“Follow instructions, Justin,” he admonishes.
You roll your eyes, “Ten.”
“Thank you. That’s better.” You grin at him as he stands up and then instructs you to lie back on the bed. He lies beside you, his hand spread wide on your torso. His eyes study your face, “We need to go over a few things about tonight,” he says.
“Okay.” You like looking up at the cut of Brian’s jaw; you asked him not to shave today, and he didn’t.
“First, the posture we’re in right now, that’s how we’re going to stay until I say otherwise, okay?” You nod; he doesn’t mean your literal posture; he means your roles. “That being said, if you feel uncomfortable at any time, I need you to tell me. There’ll be a lot to pay attention to there tonight, and if I miss a cue or misread something, you need to check in with me, I want you to promise me that you will.”
“I promise.”
“If you decide you don’t like watching the initiation or it gets to be too much, that’s okay. We can leave at any time or we can take a break for a few minutes if you feel overwhelmed.”
“Brian, come on. You don’t need to lecture me; I can handle myself.”
“I know you can, but your state of mind will be different than it is right now.” You curl toward him intentionally so he’ll fold you in his arms. “What?” he inquires, suspicious of your affection.
“You are quite purposely fucking with my state of mind right now.”
“I told you.. preparation.” He kisses you and right as you close your eyes, you decide not to because he’s talking again, “It’s not just how I feel or how you feel when we’re there tonight; it’s how we feel. If you start to feel like a me instead of a we, that’s the moment you need to flag for me, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“Are you going to wear your four star general uniform, too, or is that just for right now?” you tease him, “Because if you keep this up, I’m going to start saluting you three times a day at least.”
“Naked,” Brian adds, “You mean saluting me naked,” and then pushes you onto your back, simultaneously pushing your shirt up and planting a kiss on your sternum. He drags his scruff across your skin and then stops to suck on a nipple. You get goose bumps everywhere, and he can feel them. He laughs against your chest. “This only ever happens with your left nipple,” Brian reminds you.
“I know; I can’t control it.”
The more attention he pays to your nipple, the more you feel each flick of his tongue, the more you feel your goose bumps feel becoming a mountain range. You stare at the ceiling until you feel a vicious pinch and look down to see a black metal clamp where his mouth once was. Brian brushes his hand across your face like he’s trying to wipe away the betrayed expression you must be wearing. “Be a good boy for me,” he says.
“That fucking hurts,” you whine, and Brian looks at you with pity, his voice deceptively sweet, “I know. I’m sorry. Take your shirt off.” You obey begrudgingly because you know what’s going to happen next. His body glides over yours to land on your other side. Your mind wants to reject him but your body won’t, and he knows that; he uses your weaknesses against you. And while he’s sucking hard on your other nipple, you feel his hand race down your stomach to your jeans.
If only you weren’t so hard.
Because he teases you, tells you what it means, runs his fingertip over the wet, back and forth, moaning all the while because your pain is pleasure for him. “This is how I know you’re a pain slut,” Brian says, “Because if I gave you a choice right now: either stop the pain or make you come, we both know what you’d choose.”
“Don’t embarrass me,” you complain.
“With the truth? You’re embarrassed by the truth?” he badgers.
“Yes, okay....yes.”
“Okay, well there’s no rush. There’s plenty of time for you to prove me wrong.”
He starts pushing your pants down, and once they’re off, he makes you watch the second clamp, spreads it open and then fakes you out multiple times before letting it bite. You bitch at him again, although you know it’s pointless; the expression on his face is making you very unsettled. You’re naked; he’s not, and he’s very happy to be toying with you. He kisses you, and you try to use that time to suss out any iota of power you might have in this weird situation.
I could resist….
I could seduce him…
But all of that is a fool’s errand.
***********
By the time you and Brian get in his Mercedes to go to Release a couple of hours later, your ass is throbbing and your pants feel too tight. You rotate which cheek is actually touching the seat until Brian tells you to stop. He finds your complaining to be a bit much. He has your seat warmer blasting which you suspect is intentional to make everything worse, but you don’t mention it because you don’t want to know if you’re right.
The preparation for the evening’s outing was more intense than you expected. You were across Brian’s lap for an extended time by any measure, and he was dressed for all of it. He ‘punished’ you for the unapproved waxing and made you fuck far too many dildos to the edge of orgasm over and over only to be pulled back, denied, and spanked again for trying. When the painful attention finally paused, it confused you as you panted and expected more. “You’re done,” Brian said, and when you asked a breathy, unsatisfied, Why?, he told you it was because your facial expression had locked. You were no longer differentiating between pain and pleasure.
And, that, he said, was what he wanted.
Still across his lap, your face numb, your lips hanging heavy like they were filled with lumpy cookie dough, you asked, “Please, do I get to come?” His touch no longer agonizing, he took control of your body again, holding you in position as he extricated himself and then drug you by your hips to the edge of the bed. You watched through your armpit as he unzipped his jeans; you watched his hand pumping his cock only once, and then you watched his face as he started to fuck you. You forgot all about the pain when he filled you, and it wasn’t until you felt his hands on your stomach and then your chest that you remember those fucking clamps were still there. You watched in helpless fright as Brian’s fingers found, manipulated and opened each one; you let a yelp escape your throat and vanish into the mattress.
“Shhh,” he told your shoulder blades, “Concentrate on coming for me, okay?”
That train was already barrelling down the final track, so you stiffened, “Harder, okay? Harder-- Fuck me--”
It felt like a head-on collision at seventy five miles an hour, and then it was over. Your body flattened like a magic carpet for his body. With a soothing voice and hands, Brian explained that what he’d put you through was necessary because he wanted to, “Make it easy for you to remember who you belong to once you’re in a crowded room watching men doing god’s know what for their own satisfaction.”
“Why in the world would you think I’d forget that?” you ask him.
“It’s not really what you think. I guess I want you to feel it all over your skin, to know it tactically.”
“Brian, I’ll be right next to you wearing a diamond studded collar that cost as much as a used car. There isn’t a soul within five hundred miles who wouldn’t know that I belong to you.”
“I like to think they’d know in outer space,” he muses and points to the moon through the windshield, “That’s why I bought the one with all the diamonds.”
He is slightly bananas.
…...
You decide to bring the conversation back to this world with a statement of truth, “My nipples hurt, by the way. They’re gonna bruise.”
Brian looks over at you and rubs his hand over your thigh, “I have pain pills. Do you want one?”
You sigh, “No, not yet, but thank you.”
Brian thinks of everything all the time.
***********
Release is so packed when you arrive that Brian texts Dave to get you inside. He sends Rusty, who always smells like he’s just had non-con sex with a farm animal, to escort you. When you get into the lobby, you can see Dave in his office looking ecstatic. Brian muscles both of you in and Dave extols Brian’s advertising skills because he’s going to clear twice what he thought he’d bring in. Brian looks back at you and raises his eyebrows which is his way of telling you that’s good news for your bank account. But then Dave’s expression darkens, “But there are so many people waiting online and outside that we’re gonna have to split this into two shows.”
“Tonight? Both shows?” Brian asks.
“Yeah, I can’t lose this momentum. No way. I guess we’re going to initiate the same slave twice.”
Brian again glances back at you with raised eyebrows, and you scold him, “Get that idea out of your head. That’s not happening.”
He winks at you, “Worth a shot, though, right?”
“No, not really,” you scoff.
“Offer folks twenty percent back if they agree to be bumped to the second show,” Brian suggests.
“My thoughts as well, but I can’t pretend the second show is the first initiation. We have to have some integrity.”
Brian suggests that you and he check out the crowd and see if there are any good candidates for an unplanned second show. You demure and let Brian do it with Rusty (who reminds you of the Irish Spring guy only he doesn’t actually use the soap) while you wait in the comfort of Dave’s office. “You look very nice tonight, Justin,” he says, “Did Brian dress you?”
“How can you tell?” you ask in your tight black dress shirt, tight black pants, and diamond collar visible inside your shirt collar.
“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch.” There’s a tap on the door and Dave speaks, “It’s open.” Josh steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He grins when he sees you sitting there, “Well, hello. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” You offer as little eye contact as possible because you don’t know if Dave knows what happened two nights ago. You hope no one knows, but then you wonder if that’s why everyone’s so friendly. Josh turns to Dave, “So, do we have a plan?”
“We’re working on it. Brian and Rusty are looking for a possible second slave in the crowd out there.” You intentionally stare at your shoes because you don’t want either of them to think there is any chance of you volunteering. Just then, the door to the small room opens again, and Brian and Rusty are back. “That was quick? Any luck?”
“No,” Brian says.
“No one I’d be comfortable with,” Rusty adds.
“Well, we can’t schedule show two on next Saturday night because the lesbians have it. We have to figure something out,” Dave announces defeated. “We need this money. Think of something,” he tells Josh, and he and Rusty nod and leave the office. You look at your watch.
Show number one starts in half an hour.
***********
The idea came to you as you watched Dave and Brian brainstorm while an old light bulb above the desk hissed and went out. Both men sighed. “Brian,” you said, leaning forward and tapping on his shoulder, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dave decided to step out, mumbling about how the renovation they eventually do at Release will give this office a private bathroom. Brian turned around in his chair, “What’s up?”
“I have an idea that might work.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. What if you use the same slave for both shows but let the second show be like an informed initiation for him and the audience?”
“I don’t understand.”
“So sometimes when I watch this kind of adult entertainment--”
“Just say porn,” Brian teases.
“Whatever. When the scene is over, they let you watch the aftermath, like the debrief where the dom talks with the sub or subs and asks how they like it and what they liked the most and what they liked the least. Sometimes they even show some aftercare. So, it’s two initiations but there’s a break in the middle where the dom collects feedback from the sub and then part two resumes with that feedback incorporated, like more choking and less caning or whatever.”
“Hmm, that might work,” Brian muses, “Although I am slightly in awe of your BDSM porn scene structure recall.”
“I have a lot of free time, okay? Anyway, they’ll have to prep the slave beforehand so he knows what’s happening. Well, you have to prep everyone actually.”
You give Dave your pitch when he returns, and he says it’s worth a try. “Can you go float this idea to Josh and his slave?” he asks you, “So Brian and I can work out the staging?”
You’re surprised, “You want me to pitch it?”
“Please. Time is ticking away.”
Brian smiles at you, “You can handle it. They’re in that horrible room down the hall on the left.”
“Um, okay. I’ll go pitch it.” You bounce on your toes for some inane reason and then calm yourself down.
Brian grips your forearm as you turn to walk out, “If it’s a no, text me immediately. Otherwise, we’ll assume it’s all good.”
“Okay.”
He kisses you quickly and then releases you so you can go. You maneuver your way down the packed hallway. You tap on the closed door and hear, “Just a minute, please,” clearly Josh’s voice.
……
As you wait, you decide that this is good practice if you and Brian are going to get your own slave one day, so maybe you’ll just go with this and see what happens. When Josh opens the door, he pulls it closed behind him and addresses you in the hallway, “Can I help you?”
You explain the idea you came up with and Josh says it’s worth a try, but he would prefer that you present it to Eighty-four instead of him in case Eighty-four isn’t okay with it. “I don’t want him to think he has to do this for me because of our power dynamic, okay?”
“Yeah, um, okay.”
“Okay, come get me or text me when you’re done.”
“The guys are trying to work out the staging,” you tell him, “Because you have to have a place for this interaction to happen on camera.”
Who knew I could direct?
“Right, right,” Josh nods, “Okay. I’ll go check that out.”
He leaves and you inhale and open the door to the ugliest room on the planet and see Eighty-four at the far end of the room on the decrepit khaki couch. He’s wearing a black silky bathrobe and his legs are tucked underneath him. “Hi, I’m Justin,” you say as you walk toward him, your hand extended.
“Matt,” he says, gesturing with his entire lanky body, “I mean ‘Eighty-four.’” You shake his numbered hand and discern that he’s in his early twenties and extremely skinny. As he moves to make room for you on the sofa, you see that the outline of his knees seems to jab and poke the air rather than glide through it. He has dingy light brown hair that’s cut way too choppy and there’s some dirt under his fingernails. His eyes are a fierce blue, though. Every other feature is just angle upon angle, like someone threw his bones in the air and just put them back together in no logical order. “Is there something wrong?” he asks you and that’s when you realize that you’re wearing your thoughts on your face. You shake your head and smile intentionally, “Wrong? No. Unforeseen? A little.”
Matt gives you a quizzical look, “What do you mean?”
“Well, apparently, there’s a unexpectedly high demand to watch your initiation tonight. There are so many people here in person and in the queue online that they may need to make some adjustments.”
“Do you work here?” he asks you, “Are you like in charge of all the slaves?”
You laugh, “No, no. I’m not in charge of anyone--”
“I just thought that’s what your collar meant or something,” he observes.
You run your finger across the diamonds and clarify, “No, no. I apologize. Let me explain a little better. My husband runs an ad agency, and Release, this place, is a client. We were here just to watch tonight, but the demand’s so high, he’s helping them troubleshoot.”
“Oh, okay.”
“And I had an idea so they asked me to come talk to you.”
“About what?”
“This is just a brainstorm I had, so you don’t have to say yes or anything. They have to have two distinct shows because there’s a limit on how many people can be in that dungeon. You know, fire marshall rules and all that.”
“Right.”
“So my thought was, maybe they can split your initiation into two shows. First show goes as already planned but a little shorter, and then there’s an intermission and a chance for you to talk with….Master...Josh on camera about what you liked and didn’t like, and then they do the second show, again, shorter, and they incorporate your feedback into it. But, also, let me stop and ask, is this your first time ever in a slave role?”
“Oh, no. Just my first time on camera and with this many Doms.”
“Whew, okay. So what do you think about the idea?”
Matt hums a little as he considers your offer, straightens his legs out and flexes his feet making his ankles crack loudly before he pulls them back in. “I think it works.”
“Okay, I’ll go tell Josh.” You bounce up off the sofa, “Nice to meet you.”
“Wait, though, I have a question.”
You turn around, “Yeah?”
“Will you be there?”
“Be where?”
“In that scene where I give the feedback?”
“Oh, no. I’m not a part of this or anything.”
“I’ll do it if you’re there, like you ask me the questions because I won’t exactly be in a sober state of mind and I’ve never officially played with Josh.”
Yeah, but you don’t know me either,” you offer as a deterrent to this idea.
Matt leans forward, his giant bare feet on the floor, “I just had a conversation with you on a sofa on how a scene might go. I know you well enough to think you’re qualified to have another conversation with me on a different piece of furniture.”
His skinny ass has a really good point.
“What if I go find another guy who’s actually works here to do it with you?” you try.
“I want you. I feel comfortable with you.” And then he points to the clock on the wall, “We’re already going to start late.”
“Okay, fine. Fair enough. I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.”
“Have a good scene.”
You walked out in the hall making sure the door clicked shut behind you and saw that the dungeon was open now and already halfway full of spectators.
Why do I get roped into shit every time I come here?
….
Ha, good one.
***********
You and Brian are ushered into the dungeon just as the doors are closing. The room is almost uncomfortably full. You tug on Brian’s arm and pull him against the cinder block wall and whisper, “I need you to put my collar in your pocket.” Due to the outfit Brian picked out for you, you don’t have a suitable pocket of your own. He refuses. “Please,” you implore.
“No. Just leave it on.”
“I don’t want to wear it on camera,” you explain.
“Why not?”
You glance around and further lower your voice, leaning toward him, “Because I’m the best looking submissive in here by a mile, and they think this collar means I’m their leader.”
Brian laughs, “Just button your shirt higher. You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know why I agreed to this. Fuck.” As you bitch, Brian steers you through the crowd in the red zone, his hand on your lower back. “Okay, this is really fucked because I can’t even see anything,” you continue.
“Want me to put you on my shoulders like we’re at Disney World?”
“Maybe,” you grouse, “How can I interview him about an initiation I didn’t see happen?”
“Okay, okay, stay put. I’ll fix this.”
You watch him disappear into the throng of horny men, and when he returns, he has a small step ladder. He props it open and gestures with his open hand, “Here, your highness.”
“How’d you find this?”
“Secret closet. I know things.”
You have to climb to the actual tippy top of the ladder to see anything, so Brian holds you steady from your less than subtle perch in the back of the room. It occurs to you that were you to hold your arms out to your sides, you’d look like a kinky version of that Jesus statue in Rio de Janeiro. The location gives you an amazing view of all the bald spots in progress. “Let me know if anything good happens,” Brian jokes.
“Whose idea was it to have like zero seating in here?” you wonder aloud.
“It’s a learning process. It’ll be okay. I’m eye level with your butt so I’m good either way.”
You’d kick him but it would result in an you falling and busting your ass, so you just swing your hip into his head. “Foreplay?” he asks.
“Shut up.” Brian moves his steadying hand between your legs, running it up your thigh. He presses his thumb between your cheeks. “Would you stop that please?” you request.
“Um, no. I thought I was going to sit on that one loveseat over there and get to fondle you through this whole thing, but you had to go and give yourself a job,” Brian laments.
“I was trying to help solve your client’s problem.”
“Well, no good deed goes unpunished, that’s for sure.”
“That’s how it should be. Punishment is awesome.”
“That’s my boy,” he teases. The room quiets down, and Dave addresses the overflow crowd and suggests that people be cognizant that not everyone has a good vantage point, that the crowd is larger than expected but that he needs and expects a certain amount of decorum because what we’re about to watch is not acting; it’s real. Then, he explains how the evening will work, how they are dealing with the overflow, and the use of safe words and safe zones in the space. When this is done, Josh leads a nude Matt from the wall to the center of the space on a leash. His hands are cuffed in front of him. Josh assists him as he kneels on a small wooden platform about two to three feet off the ground. He secures the collar leash to the back edge of the platform to keep Matt where he is and then he blindfolds and gags him.The gag is a steel open mouth style. It looks very uncomfortable.
A three minute period begins in which anyone in the room can come up and explore Eighty-four, touch him in any way they like. Participants can speak to him, but he is not permitted to respond. He’s fondled roughly, verbally degraded and one Dom you don’t know by name spits in his open mouth which then gives everyone else the same idea and triggers a spit train. When that three minutes is up, Josh unhooks the leash from the platform and changes the gag in Eighty-four’s mouth to a ball gag before repositioning him on all fours. The leash is secured again in a way that forces the slave to keep his head upright and focused straight ahead on all of you. Another three minute timer is set, and the process begins again. Some folks in the yellow and red zones (the ones not in ass-less chaps mostly) decide to sit down, so Brian can finally see what’s going on, his head leaning against your thigh. You feel like Matt is using you like a birthing focal object throughout this humiliation. His eyes stay fixated on your face.
You ponder coming off the ladder or at least maybe sitting on it vs standing, but Eighty-Four is using your elevated position to get him through the scene and Brian’s thumb feels really good. You aren’t even sure if he’s aware that it’s moving, massaging you. You reach down and stroke his hair and his fingers tighten around your leg in response.
Eighty-four is released and moved again; this time to the St. Andrew’s cross. Josh gives an explanation about pain tolerance. There are three hooded nude slaves moved to one side of the cross in a kneeling position. They keep their heads down. Throughout the impact play on the cross, you focus more on Josh than on Matt. He’s shirtless in a pair of tight black pants. Josh is beautiful in that all American man kind of way. Anyone who met him outside of a kinky situation, would never think he was anything but pure sweet vanilla. He’s completely unlike Brian in that way because while Brian exudes sex appeal twenty-four seven, Josh gives off the complete opposite vibe. It’s odd but interesting.
As the first half comes to a close, Dave tells folks to feel free to leave the room, take a bathroom break, etc, while they set up for the transition. You look to your right and see two slaves you don’t know pick up the maroon leather loveseat and begin to move it to the front of the room. Both slaves smile at you. You recognize one of them as Sixty, the guy in the suspended cage on your first outing here. You smile back and tell Brian you’re ready to come down.
***********
Prior to your on-camera interview with Eighty-four, you finally convince Brian to hold onto your collar just while you’re on camera. He rolls his eyes at you and rolls the collar in his fingers, crossing his arms and leaning against a wall. You introduce him to Matt and Brian nods and gives him a cursory hello. The interview lasts about five minutes during which the audience has reassembled but agrees to be quiet. You ask Eighty-four how he feels, specifically referring to him by his number. He seems happy and comments about the red marks on his back from the impact play. “I like those kind of reminders, I guess.” Josh compliments him, says he’s very proud of his slave so far, and he looks forward to part two. When you ask Eighty-four what he’s looking forward to in the second half, he points to the four or five Doms off camera, “Them. I can’t wait to see what they do to me.” Someone off camera starts clapping, and laughter rumbles through the room. “We promise to do our very best, and take very good care of you when we’re done,” Josh confirms.
Filming stops, and you return to Brian to get your collar back and tell him that you need to pee. He follows you into the single use bathroom, “You did really well. You weren’t nervous at all,” he compliments you. “My heart was pounding like crazy,” you tell him, “I was not comfortable at all.” Brian hugs you from behind as you urinate, “Well, nobody could tell. You’re like a slave whisperer now.”
“Let’s get in there and get that love seat before anybody else,” you tell him. “I don’t want to stand the entire time.”
“Okay, I’ll pee fast.”
The two of you get back inside the dark room just as the slaves are putting the loveseat back in place. You throw yourself on it the second they let go of it. Sixty laughs at you, “Hey, you did pretty good with him. We all liked it.”
“I was so freaked out, I barely remember it,” you admit to him.
“I’m glad you came back. I heard, you know, that your first time here was gonna be your last.”
“I just decided not to be a slave on the roster; that’s all.” Sixty nods and steps away to tell the other slaves how to arrange furniture for the second show. Brian sits down next to you and puts his arm around you. You lean against him. He smells your hair and comments, “Finally, I get you all to myself.”
“I think this part is going to be a real live gang bang. Is that what you think?” you ask him.
“Pretty much. Is that okay with you?”
You smile, “Yeah. I’m excited.”
“Then so am I,” Brian agrees. You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his hand that hangs over your shoulder. “I’m already hard,” Brian whispers to you.
“Of course, you are. You had your thumb up my butt for forty-five minutes.”
“Pardon me, but I don’t recall you complaining.”
“Shhh,” you tell him, “Here we go,” as Dave quiets the room and then addresses the entire room full of new attendees. You and Brian are the only audience members that were present for the first show. You like that; no one really knows you, and it leaves you and Brian to concentrate on one another.
But the make out session you were eagerly anticipating was not to be for a reason you’d never met before.
Negotiations 34