by Cari Z.
"With that skin, those tattoos … and honey, your features are marvelous. I could sharpen my steak knives on those cheekbones. I brought a lot of blue, and I'm glad; I think it'll suit you. Blue, deep like the sea, with silver accents and curves to match your own, subtle and bold all at once. Oh hell yes, honey, you're gonna look so fine." She dropped her hand. "I won't be able to send you home empty-handed, I can tell already. Lucy, don't let me get carried away. And as for you …"
Natasha moved to the top of the bed. With a flourish, she picked out a long black skirt, gathered in the front and long in back, and handed it over to Lucy, who rolled the luxurious fabric over her fingertips. "What is this? Silk?" Lucy asked.
Natasha smiled at her. "A blend that I've been working with. It flows wonderfully, doesn't it?" Lucy didn't even have time to agree before Natasha handed her a purple corset made of crushed velvet and lace. Of course it was purple. Though Lucy preferred to dress in earth tones, simple and soothing and reminiscent of her shop, from the moment Natasha had laid eyes on the Aston Martin, she'd decided that Lucy had to match it, and was solely responsible for the influx of purples and reds into her wardrobe.
"Danny, please go into the bathroom with Lillian, she'll help you get dressed," Lucy said with a nod toward the open doorway and to the travertine-tiled room beyond.
Danny hesitated. "I think I can get dressed on my own."
"I'm sure you can," Lucy assured her. "However, some of Natasha's creations are quite intricate. Lillian should be there to help you, just in case. You'll be in good hands, and I'll be right out here waiting for you when you're done."
Danny looked unconvinced but followed Lillian into the bathroom anyway. Lillian's arms were heavily laden with outfits, and Lucy hoped that most of them fit so Danny could have the comfort of choice. Once the door closed behind them, Lucy began undoing her own clothes with Natasha's help. After having Natasha dress her before on numerous occasions when Lucy was first learning to wear corsets, there was nothing remotely sexual about the experience now. Still, she couldn't help an idle wish that it was Danny's nimble fingers helping to fit the corset over the black lace shirt Lucy was already wearing.
"She seems promising," Natasha whispered in her ear as she began to lace the ribbons going down Lucy's back, once she'd secured the corset's dozens of tiny clasps in front.
Lucy didn't deny it, but she didn't respond to the innuendo in Natasha's voice either. "I agree. I believe she'll do quite well as a model this weekend. I was fortunate that the agency sent her to me."
Natasha's wicked chuckle was a soft breeze against Lucy's neck as she pulled the laces of Lucy's corset even tighter. "That's hardly what I meant, and I think you know that."
"I'm not interested in any other possible meanings at the moment," Lucy told her as she adjusted the front of the corset to further cover her breasts. They were already pushed up and on display, despite the high-necked lace shirt covering them. Well, a layer of lace was better than nothing at all.
Apparently finished in the back, Natasha turned Lucy around and adjusted a few more things, even going so far as to undo a few of the tiny black buttons that ran from Lucy's throat to her sternum. Normally the amount of skin would have still been on the side of modesty, but with the corset working to push her breasts up, it was as if the opening in her shirt created a giant skin-colored arrow that pointed straight to her cleavage.
Instead of commenting on it as Lucy had expected, Natasha moved on to accessories, placing an antique cameo around Lucy's neck along with a lustrous string of pearls.
"Now for the skirt," Natasha proclaimed, reaching around Lucy for it.
Lucy batted her hands away. "I believe I can manage that part on my own, thank you very much."
Natasha frowned. "Saucy Brit," she muttered, but moved on to straightening up the clothing remaining on the bed as Lucy slipped out of one skirt and pulled on the other. It was a style she was familiar with, somewhere between modern steampunk and historically accurate Victorian garb. That blend was the definition of Natasha's style, and part of what had first brought the two of them together.
"How goes the shop?" Lucy asked as she smoothed the corset down over the top of the skirt and checked herself in the mirror sitting on top of the dresser.
Natasha looked up from fiddling on the bed. "Sales are up, the landlord's pleased that our clients are much cleaner than the porn store's before us, and Lillian's beginning to come out of her shell in the late evenings when I work her behind the counter."
"Don't you mean that you have her work behind the counter?" Lucy replied, checking her eyes and lips to see if her makeup required retouching.
Natasha met her gaze in the mirror and smiled. "Not necessarily." Her wicked grin told Lucy more than enough.
Lillian didn't say anything as she helped Danny into the first outfit. Or the second. She looked over both of them critically, adjusted the fit across Danny's torso, and made a few adjustments to the trim before finally deciding on the second one.
Danny tried to take a deep breath and frowned. "It's a little tight," she commented.
Lillian looked at her with one eyebrow raised, as if to say, What, you can't handle a little squeeze? What kind of model are you? Danny kept her mouth shut after that. Honestly, the matte black leather corset was gorgeous, and the brass buckles gleamed in the soft lights of the vanity. The leather strips along the bottom really didn't do the job of a skirt, but the tan boy shorts covered more of Danny's ass than she was used to at her other modeling jobs.
Lillian pointed at the closed toilet seat, and Danny sat. She closed her eyes and let Lillian do her makeup, then pull her hair away from her face into a simple, elegant bun held in place with crystal-studded chopsticks. Finally she patted Danny's shoulder, and Danny stood up and looked in the mirror.
"Oh." Oh, man. She looked like sex on a fucking stick. Her face glowed, almost bronzy but not like a fake tan. Her eyes were dark and smoky, and her lips were a lustrous carmine red, not garish but suggestive. The corset made her waist look ridiculously tiny, and the lack of any extra adornment drew the eye back to her face. "Wow. That looks amazing." Danny turned to Lillian and grinned. "Nice job."
Lillian smiled and did a little curtsy of thanks, then motioned toward the door.
"Right." Danny opened the door. "So how many of those shoes are for m-uhh." Her sentence came to an abrupt halt as she got a good look at Lucy. If Danny felt sexy, then Lucy had to feel like a fucking goddess, because she looked absolutely unreal. "That's … beautiful."
"Thanks, honey," Natasha replied. "You wear my fashions just as well, though. God, look at your legs, I'm so glad you're showing them off. I knew you'd look perfect. One more thing to finish you off, though." She took a pair of blue topaz studs out of a leather roll-up kit that held a variety of decorations and handed them over. "Something borrowed, now something blue." She grinned. "It's almost like a wedding."
"I think my dad would have a heart attack if I got married looking like this," Danny said, putting the earrings in. Lucy hadn't said anything yet, and Danny glanced at her nervously. "Do you like it?"
Lucy smiled slowly, then walked around the bed to Danny. Only when she got close did Danny notice the crop she held in a loose grip in her right hand. She tapped it against her leg as she inspected Danny slowly, and Danny felt her face flush with heat. She resisted the urge to squirm, or worse, ask for more. "You're gorgeous," Lucy said at last. "Natasha, if your booth doesn't sell out completely and your next month isn't full of commissions, I'll be stunned."
"Me too," Natasha agreed. "And yes, we've got shoes for you." She indicated the pretty velveteen boots she'd pulled out of her mound of boxes. "I checked them against your heels, so they should be the right size, and they're a really comfortable fit. Although they're just for walking around in. You won't wear anything on your feet for the demonstration."
Danny looked at Lucy. "Really?"
Lucy shrugged. "Call me backwards, but I like the look of bare fee
t resting beneath your bottom when you kneel."
Oh god. Kneeling. For the tea ceremony, with Lucy walking around her, wielding that crop, adjusting her, disciplining her … Danny thought she might honestly faint from how fast the blood drained out of her head. "Is it time?" Danny asked. Her voice came out as a croak, and she coughed and tried again. "Is it time for the first ceremony?"
"Not for another hour or so," Natasha said. "We've got to get back down to our booth. Lucy let us borrow Dalton while we got you set up, but he can't cover for us forever. Our booth is very close to the stage, so it won't take long to get things ready for you." Natasha smiled. "You two should wander around, get the lay of the land. Just be sure you don't go out there naked." She tapped her wrist meaningfully, then took Lillian's hand. They left the room together, and Danny looked with confusion at Lucy.
"Naked?"
"A sign that lets others know your status here," Lucy reminded her.
Danny still didn't get it. "My status? Status as what? A woman? A lesbian?" The soft lines around Lucy's eyes crinkled, and Danny was pretty sure that wasn't the right answer either.
Lucy went to her satchel and from its myriad pockets pulled out two white ribbons. "Normally, if you were at a club, wearing white would mean something completely different. The handkerchief code, as it's sometimes referred to, is something gay men adopted years ago, and since then it's evolved into something much more varied and inclusive. There will be people at the convention running around with little cards that have the meanings of colors written down on them. In our case, those cards are completely unnecessary, as I have no interest in making any lasting sexual connections here, and for this weekend, your time is mine." She said it perfectly matter-of-factly as she tied one of the ribbons around her wrist, surprisingly deftly, considering she was only using one hand.
"Our color is white because it indicates that neither of us is interested in being approached for liaisons. Yours going around your neck is an indication that someone is looking after you while you're here, and you're not to be spoken to without permission," Lucy said, proffering the ribbon to Danny.
"You're saying it tells people that I'm submissive."
"Yes. But only to me," Lucy added, as though that should make Danny feel better.
Actually, it kind of did. Danny didn't think of herself as a submissive person. She'd never played that way before with anyone, and she had never been afraid to throw down with her brothers if she felt backed into a corner. Danny was strong and self-reliant and confident, and she didn't need to submit to feel good about herself. Hell, she might not want to do it at all if it weren't Lucy who was asking for it; Lucy who seemed to be reason enough for Danny to try something new. She could do this, with Lucy. For Lucy. Danny didn't take the ribbon, but she did bend her head forward a little. A moment later, Lucy's hands slipped around Danny's neck, and she tied the smooth white ribbon with a tiny bow at the back, just tight enough so that it didn't slip.
"Perfect. Let's head downstairs."
"Sure." Danny pulled on the velveteen boots which, as promised, were a great fit, then followed Lucy out the door.
Maybe there was still a part of Danny that rankled at the idea of belonging to another person, but as they entered the lobby and the stares of both men and women alike followed them, she was glad that Lucy had declared Danny to be hers in front of all these people. It made Danny feel far less intimidated by the beefy guy in leather that they passed. She even added a little confident sway to her hips, knowing that Lucy would probably appreciate it as much as everyone else.
Compared to some of the people here, Danny's outfit was downright tame, but she felt fantastic in it. She felt sexy and powerful, like she'd just taken a shot of whiskey, walked up to the hottest girl at the bar, and asked her for a dance. Only the hottest girl at this bar happened to be Lucy, and she'd likely eat Danny alive.
Oh, that wasn't a good thought, especially while Lucy was dressed like that and holding the crop in her hands. Danny licked her lips, thinking about the feel of that soft leather against her again.
"By the way, while we're working, I prefer to call you Danielle," Lucy said as she moved ahead and through the door to a room marked Ballroom A.
God, Lucy's ass looked like perfection in that skirt. "Uh-huh. Sure."
Danny looked up as they entered the ballroom, then immediately looked back down. Damn, she had to be blushing now. She should have kept her eyes on Lucy's ass. The people here were … well, Danny hadn't known what to expect, but there were a lot of people here, and they were all over the map when it came to dressing for the convention. There were people in latex, others in leather, some in street clothes, some wearing little more than underwear with tape over their nipples, and one woman walking around with words written all over her mostly naked body. Danny could see that they were phrases, but from her distance from the woman she couldn't read any of them.
"Does that woman interest you?" Lucy asked, her words a little clipped as she followed Danny's gaze.
Danny quickly shook her head. "Not really, just … I mean, what's going on with her?"
"If I had to guess, I would say that she's a toy."
Frowning, Danny shook her head. "This is like the slave thing, isn't it? How can a person be made into a toy?"
The crop twirled in Lucy's hand as she spoke and led them along past the people that were setting up their booths. "Toys are people who simply enjoy being used. Their lives are supremely uncomplicated, and though it's the lowest layer of the scene I'm acquainted with, in many ways it's the highest level of submission, because a toy accepts that none of their needs will likely be met. They exist solely for the use and pleasure of whoever they belong to at the time. No name, no feelings, no wants or desires of their own. A perfect sexual object."
Danny shuddered. There were so many ways in which that was not okay to her. "Have you ever been with someone like that?" The question was likely too personal, but Danny found herself unable to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. She was curious, not just because that was natural for her, but also because she wanted to know what Lucy liked, what she wanted. Lucy was one sexy-as-hell enigma, and Danny wanted to know far more about her.
Lucy slowly tilted her head to the side and stopped walking as she answered Danny's question. "No. As I've said previously, I prefer my sexual partners more autonomous than that. I find all submission beautiful and respect those that are able to bring forth such a state within themselves. But I could not enjoy having that person in my bed."
The relief Danny felt at hearing Lucy's words surprised her. "That's awesome."
Lucy raised her perfectly sculpted brows. "It is? How so?"
Well, shit. Now Danny had to figure out a good answer for this as well. "Um ... uh ... 'cause that's good? That you know what you like, I mean." All right, that was lame beyond all belief, but the answer seemed to placate Lucy. Or maybe she was just distracted, because a moment later she seemed to find something that made her smile, and then she raised her arm in a wave.
As they got closer, Danny picked Dalton out of the crowd. He was standing next to a large booth full of clothing similar to what she was wearing as well as a selection of leather-wrapped paddles and cuffs. A few feet to the side of the booth was a stage, about four feet high and covered in white canvas. At the front of the stage was a very familiar setup; a low table covered with everything they'd need for the tea ceremony. Dalton had been a busy boy.
"How long before the demonstration?" Danny asked, feeling a little nervous despite all her practice. She hadn't realized that she'd be performing in the face of so much that she didn't understand. What if she messed it up? What if people started laughing when she did? What if she made Lucy look bad? Just thinking about it made Danny shudder.
"About fifteen minutes," Lucy said after checking her watch. Her pocket watch, Jesus, why was a watch on a chain so goddamn sexy? "Plenty of time to prepare. Dalton's done the work of the setup, so we've plenty of time to consider o
ur own tasks."
"Yeah, about that," Danny blurted. "I really wish you'd let me show you a practice run last night."
Lucy tilted her head slightly. The pearls around her neck glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights, elegant despite their milieu. Danny was convinced at this point that Lucy could make almost anything look elegant. "Why is that?"
"Because then you could have mentioned anything you didn't like about the way I did it before I have to go up on stage!"
"Ah. I see." Lucy took one of Danny's hands in her own and led her behind a rack of clothes. The ballroom was busy but not really crowded yet, and so they had a little bit of privacy. Lucy pulled Danny in close and spoke softly. "When we discussed this concern of yours yesterday, what did I tell you?"
"That … that part of your enjoyment came from seeing how much I'd improved. But I don't know that I have!" Danny protested. "I've been practicing, I've practiced every night, but I'm still not sure it's exactly how you're going to want it!"
"And that's fine, because the other, much larger part of my enjoyment in this is going to be from the pleasure of correcting you," Lucy explained. "You did ask for correction." She subtly trailed the end of the crop along the outside of Danny's knee. Danny shut her eyes at the first touch of leather against her skin. "Indeed, you specifically asked for this kind of correction, and I brought it for you, Danielle. I'm giving you what you want. All you have to do is continue as you have begun, and be ready to be guided by me. I may tell you to be still, I may instruct you to move, I may even tell you to bring me the tea from on your knees. Would you mind that?”
