by Olivia Fox
‘One foot in front of the other,’ she told herself. My body, my pace… that would be her mantra for the evening. No one was going to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for, and if that meant doing nothing but eat canapes and drink champagne all night long then so be it.
“I’m sorry,” she told Grayson. “I’m fine now. I promise. I just had a little moment there, but I’m OK. Really.”
Grayson let go of her hand and smiled. His whole body seemed to relax, as though his own happiness had hinged on Lily’s wellbeing. As they passed through the doorway, he looked purposefully into Lily’s eyes, then, just like that, he was kissing her.
Sunday 20th Feb
Dear Diary,
I’m writing this from Seb’s bed, the morning after the night before, and OH MY GOD you will not believe how much I have to write. I’ll try to stick to the drama as there’s a lot to get down, and I want to write this now, while it’s fresh and before I join anyone for a potentially awkward breakfast… actually maybe I’ll see if I can just get a coffee in bed.
Anyhow, yesterday evening I somehow ended up kissing Grayson - or, he kissed me - but after a few seconds of deliberation (I’m still getting used to the whole semi-open relationship thing) I was most definitely kissing him back. This may sound crazy but kissing him felt WAY more personal than screwing him. Or maybe that’s not so crazy - we’ve all seen Pretty Woman, right? The whole ‘no kissing’ thing… Not that I’m comparing myself to a hooker, but you see the point I’m making. Kissing is something else; it’s more intimate I guess, and, well I’ve got a semi-boyfriend, so it was WEIRD. Good weird, but WEIRD (and how much do I sound like a teenager right now?!)…
He kisses differently to Seb - cheekier, if that makes any kind of sense - like he’s constantly testing what he can get away with, which I guess just about sums up Grayson’s entire approach to sex. He lifted me like I was a feather, and, before I knew it I was pinioned against the wall, my legs were wrapped round him and his cock was pressing hard against me. And just when I’m thinking we’re going to end up doing the dirty right there and then, with him looking like some kind of Zorro character, he eased back and lowered me to my feet, giving me a devilish smile and asking ‘was I sure I didn’t want to share a pill?’…long and short of it: I took half a Viagra. Well, by that point I was already in the mood, so who knows if it did anything to boost my libido, but I’m pretty Goddam sure it was doing something later on in the evening. I’ll get to that soon enough.
So we split the pill, he kissed me again, then he left me to get changed, making me promise not to make myself come in the shower. ‘I do have SOME self control,’ I told him. What I wanted to ask was ‘Why the hell not?’ but I kind of didn’t want him to know quite how panting-hot he’d made me.
Showered, dried, make-up applied, I pulled back my hair into a loose bun, pinning my mask in as best I could. I donned my dress, a pair of white hold-ups, some white lace knickers (sorry Seb) and my break-neck heels, and I was good to go.
Through the crystal clarity of Rob and Gav’s sound system, a mandolin sang out its greeting to me as I slowly descended the stairs. Slowly, NOT to up the drama of my entrance - heavens no - if I happened to look like debutante as I made my entrance, then this was just a happy side effect of my overwhelming desire not to come crashing downstairs arse-over-tit.
At first I was relieved to see Grayson and Ana in the entrance hall, draped across the thrones. Both smiled up at me and Grayson bowed in full bodily appreciation of my outfit, bless him. However, mask or no mask, as I got closer it was plain to see that Ana's smile didn't touch her eyes. Nor did she hang about long once I’d arrived.
"I can't do this tonight," she said, then she dropped her mask, gathered the skirt of her gown into her arms, and raced upstairs.
Grayson's smile levelled out as he watched Ana disappear around the bend of the staircase. Then, after a split second of despondence, he snapped back to his own cheery self. “Care to help me greet the guests?” he asked, patting Ana’s throne.
Though I know now that everything with Ana is totally cool, at the time I couldn’t quite shake the idea that she was mad at me; stupid, I know. All the same, I joined him. I hadn’t yet taken the opportunity to talk to him again about Christoph, and this seemed as good a time as any. I told him verbatim what Seb had said - even the bits that had annoyed me at the time - and Grayson, as Seb had predicted, seemed more than happy to stick by me, if and when - though in his mind there was clearly no ‘if’. However, unless Ana had a change of heart, he’d be tied to the hall for most of the night - the staff could only stretch so far, and either he or Ana needed to be a prominent host. So we could either have a public event (no thanks!) or I’d be going it alone with Christoph (again, not likely!)…
Anyhow, the guests arrived in dribs and drabs, and I did my best to follow Grayson’s lead (though I was nowhere near so flamboyant), kissing each guest on both cheeks and directing them either through to the hall, or along to the lounge, depending on whether they were dressed for the occasion; most were, which made all our efforts sourcing ball-gowns seem slightly redundant, but hey ho. After maybe 20 or so masked guests had arrived, I asked Grayson if Christoph had been amongst them. He pretended not to know due to the whole mask issue. He can be such an arse sometimes. This set me on edge, as a couple of gents we’d greeted were definitely not to my taste - it’s only partially a looks thing - it’s mainly a sleazy leer thing. So when the real Christoph showed up I was almost relieved. Not that I’d really made up my mind to do anything with him, but the option suddenly seemed a whole lot more appealing. CY arrived wearing just his black Cavalier-ish trousers, leather boots, and an overcoat, which he shrugged off the moment he walked through the door, revealing the most intricate upper-body tattoo I think I’ve ever seen, ever; a Japanese dragon which swirled across his torso, over his shoulder, then down his back, in a torrent of fire. His silver half-mask seemed to be held in place through the a mixture of magic and self-belief, sitting neatly against a long, sleek, black ponytail.
“Looking as dramatic as ever,” Grayson laughed, standing to thump his friend jovially on the back.
“Good to see you,” said Christoph, and though he spoke to Grayson, his eyes were already summing me up. “And you, my dear, must be Seb’s girl?” he asked. He sounded American which immediately made me feel stupid for suspecting one of the previous guests might have been him, as I’d known he was visiting from the States (he’s not actually American- he’s Japanese Canadian - but that’s by the by).
“Kind of,” I said. Eloquent under pressure - that’s me. I got up to do the whole double-kiss thing, and he kissed my hand instead. Now, from a less attractive man that MIGHT have seemed sleazy I guess - but I’m just going to have to accept I’m a little shallow where these things are concerned, because suddenly my the butterfly in my stomach morphed into a full-blown Altas Moth.
“Of course. ‘Kind of’ his girl. Yes, Grayson’s told me about your arrangement with Seb,” he said. “Though he didn’t tell me whose idea it was.”
I didn’t answer. I almost said the idea was both of ours, and although it’s true, it wouldn’t have been the whole truth. So I just smiled politely.
Christoph screwed up his eye in a suspicious smile. “Ironic, don’t you think. Seb decides to change his ways, looking to go monogamous, and who does he fall for but you - a girl looking to do the exact opposite. Almost like he’s purposefully setting himself up to fail.”
There it was again. That same non-too-subtle hint of soured friendship that Grayson intermittently projected toward Seb; but this time coming from a man who - apparently - wanted to spank my bare behind. That kind of thing hardly fills you with confidence now, does it…
All the same, what he said was certainly food for thought. If he’s right, then what on Earth does that mean for Seb and me?
Christoph struck me as familiar and not, at the same time. In some ways he was just like Grayson; the arrogant humour was a
ll there, and the charm too. But Christoph was more thoughtful - unnervingly so. And, not for the first time, I was thankful to have Grayson by my side. Christoph went off to join the other revellers, and soon Tyler (remember Tyler?) took over from us on throne duty, freeing up Grayson to mingle and entertain. Not that they needed much entertaining. The clientele had thrown themselves fully into the occasion; dancing, drinking and cavorting as only Hatherly guests know how. Still, Grayson was on top form playing the host, introducing compatible guests and occasionally aiding in the separation of less compatible pairings; and God love him, he held my hand the whole time.
An hour or so into the evening, Ana showed up. For the first time that night, Grayson left my side to speak to her, and was quickly replaced by a half-naked gent with a dragon tattoo. I don’t remember exactly what I said to Christoph; something banal no doubt, like ‘having fun’? Anyhow, he told me he was ‘fine for the time being’ but he ‘wanted to get to know me better’.
“OK, we’re good to go,” says Grayson, making me jump about half a mile into the air, “Ana’s on host duty, so Lily, Christoph, want to get some privacy?” G… U… L... P… spells gulp!
Hang on, I’m thinking, whatever happened to ‘see how you feel’… At first I thought Grayson must have picked up on my nerves, because he smoothly backed off with the enthusiasm and suggested that the three of us take a walk. Sounded innocuous enough, right?
The thing is, where could we walk to? I thought maybe we’d go outside, and even though it was frickin freezing out there, I would have gone, just to stall the inevitable. But Grayson clearly had paperwork on his mind. No taking it slow for Lily, after all. He led us straight to the office and grabbed a couple of files from the selves. I asked him what he was doing, and he went into lawyer-mode, ushering me into one of the chairs, while Christoph lounged in the doorway.
And this is how our conversation went (I’m approximating some of it, but here’s the gist):
G: Lily. Our friend, Christoph, would like to engage you in some light B.D.S.M, in which you would play the sub, and he would play the dom.
L: [Mouth hangs attractively open]
G: He doesn’t want to push your pain thresholds beyond what would would seem an appropriate limit for your experience level. So - if you’re in agreement, I suggest we sign off on a basic B.D.S.M. contract, with safe-word ‘cherry’, as per normal. We’ll run through your boundaries, Lily, and if at any point you’re feeling uncomfortable with what’s happening, you can tell us ‘one, two or three’. One tells us you’re out of your comfort zone. Two tells us we’re on thin ice. Three says you’re about to pull the plug on the whole thing.
C: I notice you include yourself in the equation, Grayson.
G: Did I not tell you? I’ll be a third party.
C: Is that right?
G: His Lordship insists.
C: Poor you.
G: It’s a hardship I’m willing to bear.
C: So, Lily, what exactly does your boyfriend think I’m going to do to you?
L: I… er… [Expression of dumb-founded wide-eyed naivety… why am I such a goober?]
C: Never mind. He’s probably right, anyhow.
G: [To me] So what d’you say?
L: [Looking from Grayson to Christoph] I… Er… I only just met you.
C: And if I was proposing marriage that might be a problem. As it stands…
L: And I can change my mind? Even if I sign that?
G: You just say the word.
…Though I had my reservations, though I’d barely spent five minutes in this guy’s company, I found myself thinking ‘Lily, this is now or never’. When else was I going to have two extremely sexy men to play with, no strings attached. And so, after a drawn out discussion of my soft limits (see, I’m getting the lingo) and hard limits, I signed.
And as soon as I’d signed the document the atmosphere shifted. I asked the fellas what happened next, and was told by Christoph, in no uncertain terms, that I was to refer to him as either ‘Master’ or Sir’. Nuts. I should have added corny name-calling to the hard limits. “OK… Sir,” I said, with just the tiniest smidgen of sarcasm in my voice - barely noticeable really.
“And by God you’ll say it respectfully or I’ll smack your ass ‘til it’s every colour of the rainbow do you understand me?” He said it in a monotone unpunctuated stream, like he was a policeman reading out my rights. Jesus.
“I get it... Sir.” My cheeks must have looked like two big ol’ beefsteak tomatoes. I looked up at Grayson. His eyes danced with sheer excitement, totally unabashed by the ridiculousness of this little interaction.
“Eyes down,” Christoph ordered, softening his tone just a fraction. “You’ll look at him when I tell you to. Let’s go,” he said, and he offered me his hand. Good thing too as I was suddenly less than steady on my feet, and walking with your eyes down does nothing to help those of us born without natural coordination.
I was heartened to be led in the opposite direction from the dungeon, up the stairs, away from the masquerade mania, across the landing, down the hall… until I realised where we were headed. Seb’s room. I must have resisted a little because Christoph sighed, stopped, turned me to face him, held my face in one hand, and demanded I look at him.
He started unpicking the pins from my hair and mask as he spoke. And though a smile played on his lips, I took him at his word. “Lily, I’m not going to drag you to the bedroom. If you have issues following my lead, then I’m not adverse to bending you over right here and teaching you how a submissive behaves. I know you’re new to this so consider this your warning.”
I had to watch myself. If I spoke too hastily I’d say something he might interpret as impertinence, so I took a deep breath and went for a simple, “Sorry, Sir.”
He pulled off my mask, dropped it to the floor, then freed my hair loose of its bun. My very messy red/brown locks fell about my shoulders as he surveyed my face. “Better,” he said, “Now, what do you say, Lily. Shall we try again?” I took his hand and accompanied him without hesitation this time, with Grayson, my faithful shadow, following close behind.
That Christoph already knew Seb’s room like the back of his hand, shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But it did. He let go of my hand and went straight to a drawer under Seb’s bed. So now I know where Seb keeps his condoms. Anyhow, It felt like an intrusion. My instinct was to stop him, but Grayson’s hand on my shoulder warned me to let it go.
Christoph beckoned me over. “I was hoping to have you to myself this evening,” he said. “However, as we have a guest, I think it’s only proper that you offer yourself to him first, don’t you?”
My mouth was dry, I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. Then he pulled me against him, bunched up the skirt of my gown, tugged down my knickers and smacked his palm down hard on my buttocks. The sting and the shock of it made me call out in a high pitched moan, which brought an instant smile to his lips. “I asked you a question. What do you say?” he said.
Again, words failed me, but this time I tried... “Er… I…” I stammered, and in his amusement, Christoph seemed to err on the side of leniency.
“Yes, Sir, perhaps?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“See, it’s really not that hard,” he said, smoothing my knickers back over my bottom. Then, sending a casual glance over my shoulder, he directed his words at Grayson, “Be my guest.”
I turned to face Grayson, who stood a couple of feet away, arms folded, trying not to laugh. He winked at me, and I suddenly remembered I wasn’t meant to be making eye contact - but sod it, this was Grayson. He uncrossed his arms and offered me his hand. I took it. A millisecond later, he was jerking me into an embrace, planting his lips against my ear, and whispering, “Relax. It’s just a game.” Then, his fingers were moving fast, loosening the criss-crossed ribbon of my gown, until it slipped from my shoulders and slumped in a heap at my heals.
It’s a bizarre feeling; standing half naked in front of two masked men
. Terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. Christoph sat down on the edge of Seb’s bed. “Take off your knickers,” he instructed, still calling the shots. He didn’t just want to watch, he wanted to direct. I removed them, quickly, conscious of Christoph’s view (my backside), and waited for my next order.
“Well?” said Christoph, “Don’t keep the poor man waiting. Service his needs.” Oh brother. Was I meant to say something or just throw myself at him? God knows.
Grayson stepped back to look me over, finally deciding to ditch the mask, then he swooped in and lifted me up. My legs wrapped around him for the second time that evening, as he carried me across the room and onto on Seb’s bed, next to the almighty Christoph.
“But, Seb’s bed...” I said, impulsively, then broke off, caught between the feeling of ‘wrongness’ and a strong desire to keep my bottom in tact. Too late…
C: Lily, you insult our guest.
