I relaxed a little and enjoyed some good messy fun. I was self-consciously aware that I was participating the least of anyone, mostly keeping things light and silly long after the others had gotten hot and heavy. For the moment, I was happy observing without having to put anything on the line.
All of the women eventually ganged up on Wes and Boy. They sprayed whipped cream targets onto Wes’s balls and took turns kicking them. I got nervous when they formed a line and walked across his body, finally smearing the frosting on his face with their feet before stepping off him and rejoining the line again. He loved being crushed under heavy women, particularly if they smashed his face under their feet. Everyone here knew what they were doing with trampling, so I trusted they were conscious of where it was safe to step. But he was slippery from all the icing, so I was worried that someone would slip and rupture an organ or break one of his ribs. I didn’t want to put a stop to the fun, so I stood next to him and took the hand of each woman who walked across his length to help them balance. I learned that part of my role as his Mistress would be babysitting to make sure things never went too far. He would always push for more, so I needed to know when to steer things in another direction to keep him safe.
When all of the dessert was exhausted, we stood in a mess of epic proportions. I hadn’t really thought through how we were going to clean up. We went two at a time into the shower, which took forever because we had to keep unclogging cake bits from the drain. I also suspect that Wes and I weren’t the first couple to get dirtier before getting clean.
It was certainly a unique way to celebrate Thanksgiving. I think things would have gone much better between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans in the long run if they had started things our way.
It felt like I had reached a new level of comfort in my open relationship with Wes. People seem to think that being in an open relationship must be easier because you can do whatever you want, but it is much, much harder. In a monogamous relationship, maybe you have to wonder what else is out there or fight off temptation, but it’s mostly about staying centered and learning to shut out the distractions in favor of what you have committed to. For an open relationship to work it requires constant communication that, no matter how uncomfortable, is always necessary. One of the hardest things for us to accept was that it didn’t matter how silly we thought our partner was being, it was imperative to listen to what they were saying. Even if I thought his concern was ridiculous, if it was what he was feeling, then it mattered and needed to be worked through.
One of our biggest issues was something I would never have anticipated. He got bored of the guest stars in our relationship almost immediately, finding that the fantasy was usually better than the reality. Once he got to know the women we were playing with better, he wasn’t as attracted to them. They always started on a pedestal as the stars of his fantasy, but slowly came down to reality once they revealed their individual quirks and flaws. He tired of them, often after one scene, but they usually wanted to play with us again. They were my friends, so I wasn’t going to tell them that he was bored of them and no longer interested. I had to coerce him into playing with them again by threatening that he wasn’t going to be allowed to play with my friends anymore. He basically had his pick of the Dungeon, and in a way it turned him into a spoiled child who only wanted the next new toy until it was given to him.
27. MOLLY
The AVN awards in Vegas are essentially the porn Oscars with a multiday porn convention attached. That year, most of us weren’t attending the ceremony or the awards but were there for the fetish after-party. It was one of the biggest and most exclusive fetish events in the world every year, and almost everyone in our group was a featured guest. Most of the women I worked with were trying to make a name for themselves, so they promoted their brand at every event. I, on the other hand, was trying my best to do the opposite and draw as little attention to myself as possible.
Wes was devastated that he couldn’t go because of school, but I was excited to take a trip with the girls. Eight of us from the Dungeon were sharing a room after concluding that sleep wasn’t particularly high on our agendas. We really just needed somewhere to get dressed and to dump our shit.
Eight Dominatrices getting ready in one small hotel room must have been a sight to behold. I had brought a red latex miniskirt with me, but couldn’t seem to find a suitable top to wear with it. I tried corsets and bras and an assortment of options from the other girls’ bags, but nothing seemed to look right with it. I appealed to Raven for help and she looked me up and down before her face lit with a grin.
“Hang on. We’ll use bondage tape!”
I wasn’t following her yet, but stood patiently while she grabbed a roll of bondage tape from her bag and unrolled some of it.
“We’ll make suspenders!”
Holy hell. The woman wanted me to go in public wearing nothing but a two-inch strip of tape over my ta-tas.
“I got it,” said Erin, taking the tape from Raven to let her put her boots on.
“You have really nice tits,” she said as she covered one of them with a strip of tape.
“Thanks … you too,” I replied, and she smirked her Erin smirk that made her dimples appear.
Once the tape was in place, I was surprised at how sexy I felt wearing nothing but suspenders and a latex skirt. A quick walk through the casino and we would be at the party anyway. I squared my shoulders and got ready to rock it.
We were about to leave when Minx pulled a sandwich bag full of tiny pills from her purse and shouted, “Who wants Molly?”
She grabbed a fistful and handed them out. I took one from her, but wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I hadn’t done much experimenting with drugs. Sure, I had gone through a high school phase of smoking weed and tried coke once at a frat party, but I hated it. The idea of being out of control terrified me. But a little voice in my head was whispering that when in Rome …
“I’ve never done Molly before. Is it going to make me feel fucked up?”
“Not at all,” answered Minx. “It’s like being drunk or high but with a clear head. Like everything is just better and more intense, but you aren’t all fucked up.”
I shrugged and knocked it back with a swig of gin.
Making it across the casino floor was more challenging than I had anticipated. We drew every eye in our vicinity, and within moments had drawn a crowd of drunk guys who were blocking our path and aggressively taking pictures. I had a flash of what it would be like to be famous and simultaneously loved and hated it. The attention was a rush, but the crowd around us felt like it was on the brink of clubbing us and dragging us back to their caves. At one point I got culled from the main group and found myself surrounded and alone. The whip I was carrying was a comforting weight in my hand. I wondered if the guys around me realized how lethal its bite was.
We made it to the VIP elevator without major incident and giggled together in the tightly packed space. It felt like we were building to something big with every floor we passed.
After breezing past security at the door, we walked into the suite and I was overwhelmed by the level of debauchery that surrounded us just from the first glance. This was no client session or public play party. It was my first experience of a no-holds-barred private fetish party … and it was wilder than I could have imagined.
Glancing in any direction, I could see a panoply of sexual fantasies being played out. A transgender woman was on her knees just inside the door with a line of guys in front of her, hard penises at the ready. The man she was servicing came in her mouth with a grunt, at which point she simply swallowed, looked up, and said, “Next,” to the next gentleman in line. People were fucking in every corner of the room, with various levels of participation from the people around them. A naked chick was dancing on a stripper pole while pleasuring herself with a massive dildo. A large Asian Domme took what appeared to be her slave by the collar and dragged him across the room shouting, “I’m gonna make you eat my shit!�
��
That was the exact instant that the MDMA started to kick in and I freaked out. I suddenly couldn’t handle the thought of being on drugs in this setting, didn’t want everything to be “more intense.” It was fucking intense enough with my wits about me. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was feeling, but it was a woozy, off-kilter sort of sensation that was creeping its way up my spine and I was terrified that it was going to get worse.
Raven sighed, grinned lazily, and said, “… and I’m on the train. Who’s rolling with me?” as she started to make her way through the party.
I was trying not to hyperventilate and play it cool, but it wasn’t working. I wanted to go home. I wanted Amelia there with me.
I thought maybe if I could just find somewhere quiet to hide out for a few minutes, I could get myself back under control and be okay. Maybe I could text Amelia and it would all seem funny and not quite as terrifying. I went in search of a bathroom. I swore everyone was looking at me and all of them knew that I was losing control. They probably were all looking but because I was a half-naked hot chick who had just joined the party. Out of control was the name of the game for everyone else.
I found a bathroom and waited my turn in line, taking deep breaths. I locked the door behind me and leaned both hands on the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. I still looked like me. Maybe a little pale, but not as fucked up as I felt. I ran some cool water over my wrists and sighed at how nice it felt. Maybe I could do this. It was going to be okay.
The shower curtain slid back abruptly revealing a naked guy giving a very naked chick an enema.
“Care to join us, gorgeous?”
I must’ve jumped like a cartoon character. I had always been suspicious of closed shower curtains at parties and now I knew why!
I bolted out the door and full-blown panic set in. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I needed a clear head.
Why the fuck did I do drugs? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Erin had obviously been looking for me and found me leaning against a wall hyperventilating. She lifted my chin, looked me in the eye, and kissed me.
And it was everything I had imagined it would be. Her lips pressed against mine were impossibly soft and sensual. The world around me exploded into a kaleidoscope of sensation and, in an instant, I loved the way I was feeling. Wanted to feel more, feel everything. I moaned as Erin slid her tongue into my mouth and deepened our kiss. I tried to lace my hands around her neck to feel more of her, but she pinned my wrists firmly above my head and made it absolutely clear who was in control. Not me. And that was just fine as far as I was concerned. For the first time in my entire life, I let go. I surrendered to the gods of hedonism.
Erin kept kissing me, stroking her fingers across my neck and down my exposed chest with her free hand, making me shiver. Her lips followed the same trail, starting behind my ear and working her way down. She nibbled my neck and then sucked on it hard enough that somewhere in the blissful fog of my mind I knew it would leave a mark, but I didn’t care. I needed more and she seemed to understand that having ignited this wildness in me, she was now responsible for fueling the fire. Had she been any man I had been with up to that point and most I have met since, we probably would’ve just fucked right there up against that wall in a quick explosion of drug-fueled lust. But she wasn’t having that. We both knew that what existed between us had been building for months and there was greater satisfaction to be had from drawing it out. Her kisses were leisurely. I thought my knees were going to buckle. I had never been so wet before, so desperate to know what comes next.
I had forgotten where I was when our reverie was broken by Raven shouting, “Lesbians!” and screaming with laughter.
Erin released me from our embrace and we laughed along with Raven. I impulsively hugged her and said, “I love everyone!”
“Aw, and everyone loves you too, hun. Glad you’re enjoying your first roll. I’m gathering the girls for a golden shower party. Boy just got here and we’re going to pee on him!”
“Okay!” I shouted with glee and the three of us practically danced hand in hand to the massive shower suite.
It was a glass room big enough to fit about a dozen people comfortably and there was at least twice that number crowded around the glass watching. Boy was standing just inside. He hugged me in greeting and I kissed him deeply in response. He was initially startled, but he pulled me closer and returned the embrace. Gods, it felt good to kiss people, to connect through lips and tongue and touch. The subtle differences between kissing a woman and a man were amplified by the drugs. I could feel his rough beard against my skin and his big hands on the small of my back. His kiss was harder, but less possessive. Strong, but not consuming like Erin’s. I eventually pulled back and said, “I’m on Molly. And I love everyone!”
“You’re adorable.”
I turned to find Erin, suddenly worried that she would be angry or jealous that I had kissed someone else, but she nodded at me reassuringly. Jealousy had no place here.
Boy stripped naked and lay down on the shower floor, while the rest of us who were participating stripped off shoes and, in some cases, all clothing. Boy was already rock hard thanks to the line of smoking-hot women who were appraising him with open lust, about to fulfill one of his fantasies.
I had tried a few more times to give Wes a golden shower without any success. The more times I failed, the more embarrassed I got that I just couldn’t do it no matter how badly I needed to go. It crossed my mind that I was almost certainly going to get stage fright and not be able to do it here in front of this many people. I acknowledged the thought, but it didn’t worry me. The way I was feeling, nothing worried me.
I watched as one woman after another entered the shower room, stood over Boy, and voided her bladder. Some of them covered him all over and others aimed more precisely and made him drink it. When it was my turn, I walked across the wet tiles until I reached him, completely unfazed by the fact that it was a puddle of other people’s urine. He looked up at me with such intensely pleading eyes. I rolled my latex skirt up, unselfconsciously revealing my lady bits to a crowd of strangers. I straddled his head and squatted slightly, willing myself to release the stream he yearned for. But nothing came. I smiled sheepishly back at the girls and continued to stand there, exposed and straining to go. The crowd clearly assumed I was toying with Boy, teasing him since all of the others had given him what he wanted without a second’s hesitation and without receiving anything in return. This wasn’t necessarily a problem, but he was a submissive who was deeply eager to please and I knew it would only add to his pleasure if he was allowed to give as well as receive. I slowly lowered myself until I was kneeling over his face.
He groaned loudly and said, “Oh, Goddess, may I please?”
I didn’t bother answering him, but lowered just a bit until I felt his wet, warm mouth on me. His clever tongue found my clit and my mind exploded with new sensations. I rewarded him by stroking his hard dick. His hips started bucking under me, but his tongue maintained a steady rhythm. I lifted slightly, closing my eyes to drown everything else out. I guided his hand down to take over for mine. I knew I could do this but needed to focus. It felt like he was getting close to coming, so I released my bladder without warning directly into his mouth. He moaned like a man dying of thirst who had just been given a drink, frantically lapping at all I had to give him. It only took seconds for him to come and the crowd shouted their approval, reminding me that we had an audience.
I couldn’t stop grinning.
I turned the shower controls at random until most of the heads were blasting hot water and let Boy rinse off. Standing under the spray of hot water, I could only revel in how amazing it felt. I was nearly oblivious to the fact that I was still dressed, but thankfully water doesn’t do latex any harm. I would normally have been worried about messing my hair up after taking the time to do it, but instead I was just amazed by the sensation of the water cascading through it and across my skin.
Erin dr
ied me off with a towel and I practically purred at the terry softness. We made our way through the party, and this time I felt like I was plugged in to the pulsing energy of the place, like I belonged. The scenes we encountered were thrilling instead of terrifying. I watched blood cupping and needle play with detached fascination. We jumped in on a CBT scene and then managed to get seven girls smothering the same male sub. We did spanking and hair pulling and sensory play that blew my mind as much to perform as it did to receive. Everything felt amazing. We were constantly touching and kissing, unselfconscious and free.
I’m not really sure how, but we ended up in a very large bubble bath that was heaven to my drug-enhanced nerve endings. There was an unspoken understanding that it was a girls-only space, which was good because with eight or nine of us in the tub, there was no room for anyone else. Like something out of a lesbian fantasy porno, hands started roaming under the bubbles until everyone seemed to be simultaneously giving and receiving pleasure without much thought to what belonged to whom.
Erin and I broke off from the group and I lost myself in her kisses. I wanted more. Deeper. Something …
Someone produced a strap-on and I managed to put the harness on under the water. Erin lay back and her look was pure challenge.
The Scarlett Letters Page 19
