Chapter One

Invitation

 

"Do you always go out of your way to serve women in leather?" she asked.

"I serve women every day," Charles replied, setting the drink in front of her. "Although none match your flair."

She sat sideways at the table revealing polished, knee high boots, a long black leather skirt slit up the middle and two well shaped, dark stocking covered legs. But while her lower half was dark, the upper part shone. A long sleeved, white silk shirt, page boy style dark blonde hair and light blue eyes gave a balance to her. Charles estimated her age in the mid-thirties.

She sipped her pink drink, a slightly alcoholic thing that went well with the clear Southern California night. The day smog had dissipated making the open air cafe a good place to enjoy the mild weather. Charles hovered at her table.

"Do you always leave other customers waiting who got here before me?" she said.

"No." Charles smiled. "But it's been a long time since you were last here. I'd thought you'd grown tired of our little flirtation."

"With your fresh, young face and beautiful, dark hair? One can never grow tired of you, Charles."

His courage rewarded for bringing their past dialogues out in the open, Charles nevertheless felt himself blushing at the compliment. "Thank you, ma'am."

"It's Lillian. You might as well call me by my name; you've known it for quite a while anyway. That's what friends do, call each other by their names."

"I suppose they do, Lillian."

"Good. Although a spontaneous `ma'am' thrown in here and there makes my heart melt."

Charles grinned. "Whatever you say, Ma'am Lillian."

"Don't be smart, Charles."

"Who? Me?" His eyes widened in feigned innocence.

They both laughed, enjoying the game.

"You're just full of piss tonight, aren't you, dear? I'd love to keep you to myself but your other customers are giving you impatient looks. But there is one thing." Lillian leaned forward and motioned for Charles to bend down, giving them a modicum of privacy. "I'm just back from Europe and my slave has organized a small party."

"Your slave?"

"Don't act stupid, dear. Intelligence is so much more attractive. Anyway, I want you to stop by tonight." Lillian smiled. "Unless it's past your bedtime."

Charles pointed at his pale skin. "I'm a night owl. I usually do some net surfing when I get home, then I fall asleep just before dawn."

"Then I'll be expecting you." She handed him her card.

Charles glanced at it. "M. Lillian Wade. Fashions Designed and Chains Rattled." Well, that certainly left something to the imagination. She lived only a few miles from the restaurant.

He still wasn't sure what Lillian had in mind. "You want my services as a waiter?"

"Oh, no. You'll be my guest. Although you'll find out there's service and then there's...service."

 



 

It was Saturday night, business was brisk and Charles didn't stop waiting tables until after eleven. He finished with his check totals and the clock struck midnight. Charles was tired but he wanted to exploit this sudden opportunity with Lillian. Up until now he'd only dealt with professional lady dominants. This invitation was a new door opening for him.

He found Lillian's home easily enough; a typical house for the Westchester neighborhood with a detached garage out back. Several cars were parked out front with a few more crammed into the driveway. Charles drove by and parked down the street. As he approached on foot he didn't hear the usual dull, bass beat that accompanied the kind of parties Charles usually attended. No sound issued from the house, not even when he stood on the front step. Did he have the wrong place?

Into the bowels of hell, or the heights of ecstasy. He raised his hand to knock when the door opened and there Lillian stood, her smile warm and receptive. "Ah, here's the pretty boy."

Even though it was ostensibly a party to welcome Lillian back stateside, Charles found out he also was a semi-guest of honor. A scantily clad woman named Maxine took his coat and furnished him a small drink. Lillian introduced Charles around to several men and women.

"I remember my first party," a small woman said, her name Jennifer. "It wasn't as intimate as this one. I was scared to death with all these leather clad people running around with ropes and whips."

"From what I recall, that didn't stop you from stalking the wild master," said her husband, Duncan. He bent down and gave her a quick kiss.

A few of the people asked his orientation - sexually and SM wise. When he answered a few of the ladies rolled their eyes. Charles expected such a reaction; as a hetero submissive male he was hardly what would be called an endangered species. And now that he learned Lillian's orientation by virtue that Maxine was her slave, he was surprised she invited him at all. But there wasn't any sign of SM play anywhere.

"We're not being too outrageous for you, I hope," Lillian said to him.

"Oh, no," Charles assured her. "I've been to a couple of SM parties before."

"Really? I didn't know you had experience."

"Only the kind where you had to pay to get in. And I've been to a couple of part time pro doms. But this one reminds me of a normal cocktail party. Not that I'm not enjoying myself, it's just - "

"Not what you expected?" Lillian took his hand. "Come with me."

She led him out back to the garage. Lillian opened a side door and a soft light issued from inside. When they entered Charles found what he'd sought.

At least a dozen people were spread throughout the converted garage, most actively engaged in a play scene. The sophistication varied from one woman tied and gagged to a wooden post, to a man and woman bent over dual spanking horses and their individual tops whipping them as part of some competition.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Lillian asked.

"Oh, yes."

"Care to join in?"

"I'm afraid I don't have a play partner."

Lillian laughed. "That can be arranged. Wait right here."

Lillian made some selections at the toy wall. At first Charles watched her but then his eye caught a tall lady standing alone across the room. Unlike the others who wore some kind of leather clothing, this woman had on a dark, wine colored, Victorian style dress. Although conservative in that it covered her from high up her neck to her feet, it fit her well, showing off the curves of her breasts and hips. Her russet hair was done up in back like some of the waitresses that Charles worked with. A French twist they called it. High cheekbones complemented a swan neck. Green eyes flashed at him. A slim nose with red, heart shaped lips enticed him. She held a slim birch rod.

They made eye contact for the briefest second before Charles broke it off in embarrassment. It was alright to stare at strangers, as long as you didn't get caught.

His gaze returned to Lillian and a man now stood next to her, his arm around her waist. Even from behind, Charles could tell the man possessed a solid, stocky frame, with wide shoulders. He bent over and kissed Lillian on the cheek. The man's face and thinning hair suggested his age around forty.

Might they be lovers? Maybe Lillian went both ways. Charles had heard of doms keeping slaves and a separate lover.

Lillian whispered something to the man who glanced back over his shoulder at Charles. A few more words were exchanged and Lillian extricated herself from the man's light embrace. She rejoined Charles, her toy selections in hand.

"Ever been naked in a room full of people?" she asked, all smiles.

"Does a high school locker room count?"

"Only if you're gay."

"Then I guess I'm a virgin."

Lillian chuckled. "Well, you're going to lose that part of your virginity tonight. But don't worry, I'll be gentle - at first."

True to her word, Lillian knew how to pace a fledgling sub to public play. They started with four simple words: "Take off your shirt."

Charles unbuttoned his white shirt and, without any more prompts from Lillian, pulled off his t-shirt as well.

She faced him away from her. "Now, there's a back someone can do something with." Lillian's nails danced lightly on his skin. Goose pimples rose on Charles's back.

Lillian positioned him under a suspension bar. In less than a minute his arms were stretched overhead, his shoulders bunched up. Charles grunted but otherwise kept quiet. He didn't want Lillian, or anyone else, to think he couldn't handle this. Yet, when he looked around the room, none of the other players were paying attention to him anyway.

He mentally girded himself for the first blow. All of the part time doms Charles knew got right into the whipping. When it came, the first blow was usually a killer.

A slap. No, more like a love pat. The blades of the cat hit his upper back and lazily slid past his waist. Lillian got into a steady rhythm, the soft hits varied over his back, chest and stomach. Charles was surprised but found he enjoyed this. The steady beat lulled his eyes closed. The slaps continued and Charles was dimly aware of someone removing his pants. His eyes opened just a slit. Maxine lifted up one of his legs, then the other, and took the rest of his clothes away with her.

The massage now covered his legs and cheeks. Charles never thought a whipping could be like this. A pink glow surrounded him.

Suddenly, Lillian pushed the thick handle of the cat crossways deep into his mouth, until his front and lower teeth were exposed. The blades fell past his right shoulder and tickled his nipple.

Lillian turned to the crowd. "I've got a slave primed and ready to go. Who wants a crack at him? How about you, Ash?"

The stocky man who earlier had his arm around Lillian scowled. "You know better than that. You got me to watch, but that's all."

Lillian laughed and blew him a casual kiss. She resumed her Coney Island barker routine. "Slave flesh. Young, tender slave flesh."

"I'll give him a try," said the Victorian style dressed woman. She flexed her rod.

All of the activity in the dungeon ceased as the woman approached and took up position behind him while Lillian steadied his hips in front.

"You don't want the cat?" Lillian asked.

"Let him use it as a gag," the woman said. She ran the tip of her birch down Charles's spine. "Let's just see what kind of slave this boy may be."

A sharp whistle and Charles's ass was on fire. He chomped down on the cat handle, tasted the leather. Slow, methodical strikes in contrast to Lillian's steady beating. The fire's rage spread down his legs, around his hips, into his cock. Soon, Charles had a new rod to contend with, no more under his control than the one behind him.

Was that someone counting? It was his tormentor, counting down from five in between each stroke. She reached the number one and another searing blow was delivered. On and on it went. After each explosion Charles's haze of pain took just a little more time to clear. He'd hear the countdown and then the rod on its unerring journey always to a different spot.

His cock went rock hard, the helmet nearly purple. Lillian stepped back. Not so much because of its size, but in amazement. Charles remembered all the other male slaves he'd seen tonight were limp as a wet noodle.

He bit down harder on the cat and kept his eyes closed. Tears formed in his eyes.

Someone's hand was in his hair. Lillian's. Soft, soothing words. The fire remained but no new sparks came from the rod. "I think our boy has reached his limit, Reeve."

Reeve came around Charles and beamed. "That was marvelous. I haven't had a go like that in a long time. And he's just a beginner?"

"Just about."

"He's certainly alive." Reeve appraised his well-endowed cock. She quickly licked her lips and extended a couple of sharply defined nails, as if to touch it. Then her attitude suddenly changed and she drew them back. "Well, if he gets trained the right way you might have something there."

She turned her back and briskly walked away.

Lillian winched the bar down and released Charles. His legs deserted him and he crumpled on the floor. The welts from Reeve reminded him of their presence and he shifted his weight for the least uncomfortable area, also seeking to still his racing pulse. He'd never been put through something as heavy and steady as that. He had to recoup.

Lillian gave him the time he needed. She stood next to him, speaking with an attractive couple named Steven and Cass about some business deals. Apparently they all knew each other quite well.

When Steven and Cass took their leave Lillian made Charles stand. Maxine clinically rubbed something cool on his ass cheeks. The pain diminished somewhat.

"Did you get what you came for?" Lillian asked, returning to her role as hostess.

"I'm not sure," Charles said. What did he enjoy more? The pain he suffered? Or the pleasure in Reeve's face when she nearly touched him, knowing he exercised even just that little bit of control over her?

"I guess I came for a little bit of both," he said.

There was absolutely no confusion on Lillian's face. It was as if she knew his thoughts and understood his seemingly nonsensical answer. "That's what we all seek, dear. But I think you might have a better connection to it than most."