Chapter 17: New Years Eve, 2006

Lori

Mistress Abigail had sent a lovely, androgynous young creature, as well as a selection of colored thick silk rope, to help prepare them for the party.

Lori Grimes was in bondage heaven ... well, almost heaven. She could still move, her arms and legs remaining free.

She was wet, thinking of being cocooned in the rope, only her mouth, crotch, and ass left open for her spouses to use.

Shiri, Mistress Abigail’s rope artist, noticed her excitement.

“This one enjoys the rope,” they said.

“So she does,” Dommi agreed. She caressed Lori’s moist slit. “So, little wife, you want this?”

“Yes, Senior Wife,” Lori replied, not surprised by her whimper-like tone.

“Make a note, Carol darling,” Dommi said. “Lori, she loves the rope. You enjoy the rope. Magda just wears the rope.”

“Apologies, Senior Wife Dommi,” Magda said.

“No apologies necessary, Magda. We all have our kinks, and this isn’t one of yours. You wear it well, though.”

Lori agreed. She wanted to gently part the strands around Magda’s cunt and bury her face in-between her wife’s thighs. Lori didn’t think she’d ever seen Magda – or Senior Wife Carol – look more desirable than they did wearing nothing but rope.

“Someone may need to go take her edge off,” Margo said. “I volunteer.”

Margo hooked a finger under the knot between Lori’s breasts, and led her toward the bedroom.

“Pardon, but do we have time for that?” Magda asked.

“Trust me,” Margo replied over her shoulder. “It won’t take long, and the van will be a little crowded for me to handle it on the way.”

“Besides,” Harry said, “we get there when we get there.”

“And if we don’t get there,” Carol aded, “it’s the party’s loss, not ours.”

Lori’s knees grew weak at the thought of staying home from the party, and just playing.

Karen

“Okay, this is all of us,” Karen said, looking over the women before her. “Every Dominant left in the house tonight.”

Nicki, Danielle, and Jessica looked around.

“Just us?” Nicki asked. “Where’s Sandalwood? Or the former Sandalwood...”

“Not moved in enough. They’re celebrating at their old place,” Karen replied. “Cut ‘em some slack, things have been busy.”

“And nobody else is showing up from other Houses?” Nicki said.

“Did you see any notices of Chorale throwing a party?” Karen replied.

“What about Galena?” Jessica said.

“She’s at the Omni with her friends. They’re holding a wake.”

“Lovely way to spend the evening,” Danielle said. “So, the four of us. How many subbies?”

“I lost count at fifty-some-odd,” Karen replied. “Now, Kissie and Earl can help us keep some degree of order, security will assist as necessary, but for subbies acting up, wanting discipline...”

“We’re it,” Jessica said. “I’m so not ready for this.”

“You think I am?” Karen said. “I’m barely comfortable being a Domme, much less acting like one.”

“Well, we do our best, and see what happens,” Nicki replied.

Galena

“So, Reggie ... just the two of us.”

“Yeah ... by the way, I’m not too sure Oliver’s really sick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know he and Felicia never really got along too well, and with you and I doing the whole BDSM thing...”

Galena smiled sadly. “Yeah, only things we have in common anymore is high school, and liking guys.”

“And not exclusively guys,” Reggie said. “You’ve heard some of his comments about ‘breeders’...”

“Yeah, so girls having sex with girls is just doubly an issue for him.”

“So, late yesterday,” Reggie said, “I got a message from him by mistake, meant for someone else. He was asking about going out tonight. Now, maybe he got to feeling worse, or maybe he’s ditching us. Do you want to call him up, confront him?”

“No ... if he’s sick, then he’s sick. If he’s not ... let him think we believe he is.”

“Could I load up the pipe?”

“Sure, Reggie, go ahead. Your parents are giving you shit.”

“Oh, so much shit,” Reggie replied, grabbing the pipe and the weed. “And it’s all sortakinda your fault.”

“Okay, why am I getting blamed for it?”

Reggie made a ‘in a minute’ gesture as she hit on the pipe. One thing was for sure, Reggie was much more adept at smoking pot than she’d been before their first meeting at the Omni.

Galena waited patiently. She was feeling particularly mellow, albeit sad at the loss of Felicia.

After Reggie exhaled, with nary a hint of a cough, she said, “Seems they were much happier when I was ... when all of us were stay-at-home sad sacks. No social life to speak of, nice passive children, good little girls.”

“Have they figured out what you’re doing when you’re out?”

“Some of it, maybe. I come home with pot smoke on my clothes. I mean, I can mouthwash the liquor off my breath, shower so I don’t smell like I was smoking weed and fucking all night ... but they’ve caught the smoke on my clothes.

“Besides ... I’m nowhere near as “yes-Mother-yes-Father” as I was. I’m standing up to them ... partly because I’m realizing just how happy they were with the ‘fat-girl-nobody-wants’.”

“You discussed moving out when school’s done with?”

“Well, prior to all this,” Reggie said, motioning at the room, “they wanted me to live at home, go to UTW. Now ... okay, that’s still their official position, but they’ve started laying out enough rules that even the old me would’ve found them unbearable.”

“So now you want, more than ever, to go somewhere away from them.”

“Yes and no, G...”

Galena looked at her friend, seeing the differences in Reggie. She still was nowhere near as confident and assured as Lisa or Jackie, but she was so different from the beaten down teen she had been.

“I want to go some place smaller – UTW is way too fucking big. I’m thinking TSU in San Marcos. It’s only thirty miles away, so it leaves me close enough to still play here in Waterloo, but far enough that I’d have to move out from my folks. I just want away from them, not away from you, or the city.”

“You know,” Galena replied, “Chorale South is only eighteen miles from Waterloo, about the same for San Marcos, and I’m commuting in to town for school and work. You could move out there, stay with me, commute with me for the rest of the school year. After that, we’ll see how things stand.

“First, of course, I’ll have to have our voodoo woman talk with you when she gets back into town.”

“Well, yeah ... how soon will that be?”

“They’ll be back on the 10^th, so I’m thinking I could schedule something next day.”

“Thanks, G. Cannot be goddamn soon enough.”

Carol

Toasty warm elevator ride, toasty warm lobby, OH MY GOD IT’S SO FUCKING COLD I’M GOING TO FREEZE TO DEATH, oh thank God the van had time to warm up!

The trip to the van, less than fifteen feet, froze her to the bone, in spite of the warm-ups, socks, snow boots, gloves, knit cap, and majorly heavy coat she was wearing over the ropes.

“M-m-maybe staying home tonight’s a good idea,” she said, fighting the urge to let her teeth chatter.

“It would mean going back out into the cold,” Harry replied. “Right now, I don’t think you could pry me out of this car with a crowbar.”

“We’ll be entering Master Hammond’s building through the parking garage, I can let you off right by the door to the lobby,” Elliot, their driver, said. “Maybe a third the time in the cold as you spent getting in here.”

“You are a very good man,” Carol said. “You are building up enough good karma to carry you through a dozen lifetimes.”

“Thank you, miss,” he replied. “Nine years of driving ... interestingly dressed ... people around Chicago in the winter.”

“And we thank God for you,” Margo said, sliding into the front seat.

Alice slid into the van and closed the door behind her.

“All present and accounted for.”

Elliot pulled out of the circular driveway onto the road.

Harry was sitting between Dommi and Magda, and doing his best to meld his body with theirs, through all their clothes.

“You know,” he said, as he started to regain feeling in his hands and feet, “in my younger, more certifiably insane days, I considered sex in the snow an adventure.”

“Snow where, sir?” Elliot asked.

“North Texas.”

“Well then, sir, you were missing the lake effect ... and eight-hundred-some-odd miles or more.”

“Yeah, we used to joke the only thing between us and the North Pole was a barbed-wire fence somewhere in Oklahoma. Y’all don’t even have the fence, just the lake.”

“Yes sir, and as I’m sure you’re noticing, this isn’t a dry cold, but a wet, straight-to-your-bone-marrow cold.”

“Y-you aren’t kidding,” Carol said.

She sat back, squirming to get even closer to Lori on her left, dragging Alice closer on her right.

“What’s it supposed to be like later tonight?” Harry asked.

“It’s as cold as it’s going to get, sir,” Elliot replied. “The clear skies have let the heat from the sun escape. However, if you’d prefer, I’m sure Master Hammond can find beds for you somewhere...”

“No,” Margo said. “We’re coming back tonight. Do you have any idea how long the party will last?”

“Yes, Madam. It should wind down around 4 AM, with brunch in the morning for anyone who stays over.”

“I doubt we’ll be there that long.”

“Fine with me, Madam, I’m at your disposal.”

Carol watched the lights of the city as they made their way along their lake shore.

None of them were letting their worry about the situation in San Francisco show, but she could feel it. There was no stress in their evening ... unless they made total fools out of themselves, they were going to be fine.

But the kids...

Jason

The waiting was taking its toll on them. With everyone on edge, tempers were frayed, and they were all snapping at each other.

Jason had waved off any attempt to accompany him when he went to bedroom, just wanting some alone time. He wished he could talk to his step-parents. He’d already spoken with Kelly, and he appreciated her encouragement and confidence, but even when she wasn’t being punished ... well, she was the crazy one.

And it occurred to him, he could talk to them.

He dialed Harry’s number.

“Yes, son?”

Jason hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear Harry’s voice.

“Father...”

“You’re scared shitless, aren’t you?”

“Yessir.”

“It’s okay. We’re scared for you as well.”

“It’s just ... I’m a Dom, aren’t I supposed to be ... brave, or something?”

“Are you still going to the party?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s as brave as you need to be. Let me put you on speaker...”

Jason heard the sounds of the van’s engine.

“Did I interrupt something, sir?”

“No,” Margo replied, “we’re on our way to our party...”

“Don’t you dare hang-up, Jason,” Carol said.

“We’ll sit in this nice, warm, toasty van and talk to you as long as you need us to,” Margo continued. “You’re roughly an hour, two hours from your party?”

“Yes, Madam...”

“That’s one spanking you’re owed when you get home,” Margo said.

“I’m sorry, Mother. Just really nervous...”

“That’s understandable,” Dommi replied. “Can I give you some advice?”

“Oh, please do...”

“You know how sometimes, in school, you want to get right up in someone’s face and scream at them, call them a motherfucker, a shithead, a cum-guzzling dumpster slut who pays to take it up the ass from German Shepherds?”

“Uh, yeah, some of that...”

“At the party, you can say all that ... just say it calmly, chuckle while you do. Hell, say it softly, and when they ask ‘what?’, say it much louder.”

“Yeah, you have no reason to be civil with Nelson’s fucking children,” Harry said. “Or better said, you are only obligated to be civil so long as they are ... and none of us expect them to be civil.”

“Of course, if they are, well...” Margo said, “play nice as long as they play nice. If we’re all wrong, and they behave themselves, you do the same.”

“Yes, Mada ... Mother. Dayna told me to think hard about any response I wanted to make, give myself some time to be sure I wanted to say it, and how I wanted to say it.”

“Dayna’s smart,” Dommi said. “In spite of my earlier advice, which was more in the spirit of “there’s no reason to play nice with these fuckers”, don’t let them goad you into saying anything stupid.”

“I ... uh ... I sort of have a plan.”

“Let’s hear it, if you feel like sharing...” Harry said.

“Well, they’re going to make us out as barbarians, and I figure if we respond with profanity, folks might take it as a sign they’re right about us. So ... well, ‘shit’s what I want to use, but won’t. ‘Feces’ is too...”

“Stilted,” Carol said.

“Yeah, stilted, artificial sounding. So, I’ve kind of settled on ‘sewage’. I mean, to me it doesn’t sound all that ... stilted ... but it gets the message across.”

Jason could swear years passed in silence, before Harry responded.

“Brilliant. You’re right, Jason, it sounds a lot more natural than ‘feces’, and it gets the message across beautifully. You want a career in advertising? I think you might have a knack for it...”

Jason laughed, and ignored how close to tears of relief the laughter brought him.

“Harry’s right, son,” Margo said. “Keep things centered around ‘sewage’, and you’ll be fine.”

Jason could hear ... could almost feel the approval from everyone listening.

“Thanks ... thank you so much ... I feel so much better now.”

“You’re going to do fine, son,” Dommi said.

“Uh ... are you my step-mother too?” he asked.

“Way to go, Dommi, let that fucking cat out of the bag,” Harry said.

“Yeah, son, we married Dommi in a ceremony up here,” Margo said. “We’re all very happy to have her in the family.”

“Uh ... Kelly doesn’t know, does she?” Jason said.

“No,” Carol replied. “I tell you what, Jason. If she’s a very good girl, tell her. She’ll be pleasantly surprised ... and even more pissed off she didn’t get to come to Chicago with us.”

“Okay ... uh ... she’s behaving very well, and has been really helpful. I won’t tell her yet, but tomorrow ... well, maybe then.

“Listen, thank you all, so much. I feel a lot better. I’m going to let you get on with your evening.”

“Son,” Harry said, “we’re carrying our phones tonight. If you need to talk to any of us, or want to talk to us, you call, and don’t think twice about it. You understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good ... we love you, son. Kick their asses tonight.”

To the sounds of his step-parents sending their love and support, Jason hung up.

Dommi

“We have a good son,” Dommi said, hugging Harry. “You got lucky.”

“I’m pretty sure some would say it was the Universe putting people where they needed to be,” Harry replied. “Just like bringing you into this family.”

“When he tells Kelly ... damn, wish I could be there to see that,” Carol said. “She’s going to freak.”

“Now I’m married to that magnificent booty!” Margo said, in a fair imitation of Kelly.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just gonna break her heart,” Harry said, laughing.

“I’m glad to hear she’s behaving,” Margo said. “How long do you think it’ll last?”

“I don’t know,” Carol replied. “I don’t think she knows.”

“Sooner or later, we’re going to have to face the question of when we let her pick up the leash again...” Margo said.

“Yeah, darlin’,” Harry replied, “but we don’t have to face it tonight, or more than a week after tonight, so relax.”

“We’re coming up on Master Hammond’s, another five minutes,” Elliot said. “Start preparing for the dash to the door.”

Donna

She understood everyone was on edge ... but as far as their little delegation, Jason was the ‘face’, with Dayna and Lyra in the background, and she was worried about him.

Until he came out of bedroom, with a sense of confidence she’d not expected to see.

“Called Father and our Mothers,” he said. “We’re going to do okay tonight.”

“I told you that...” she said.

“Yeah ... but, it’s different, you know?”

“Yeah, honey, I know. I’m glad you called them. How are they doing?”

“They’re on their way to their party, all of them crammed into a limo or something.”

“That must be cozy,” Donna purred.

“Stop it, woman! You’re just drooling over being the creamy submissive filling in...”

“In any number of sandwiches,” Donna said. “Tell me you wouldn’t love having both Lori and Carol to play with at the same time!”

“It would be yummy,” Jason agreed. “But I think I’ll stay focused on the beauties right here.”

Donna looked around, and saw Dayna and Lyra were in their room.

“You mean Lyra bouncing on your cock while Dayna sits on your face?”

She laughed as Jason rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be good,” she promised.

“What I’m looking forward to,” he said, “is you and Abby after we get home tonight.”

“Hopefully we’ll be sober enough to be interesting,” she said.

“That does bring up the question of how many drinks we’re allowing ourselves tonight...”

“The whole ‘keeping a cool head’ issue does come into play,” Donna said.

“True, Milady ... and should we trust drinks that might be messed with by our enemies?” Kelly said.

“No. I have no problem trusting any bartender Beebee employs, but no matter who brings it, we shouldn’t trust any drink we didn’t see prepared,” Donna replied.

“Sir, I think limiting ourselves to a drink an hour, with water as a supplement, would relax us without relaxing us too much,” Kelly said. “If the drinks are particularly strong, we might want to make it longer between them.”

“You have a lot more experience with alcohol than me,” Jason said. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Do bartenders not follow recipes?” Donna said, waving Dayna and Lyra over.

“Loosely,” Kelly replied. “ A regular old bartender might make you a Jack and Coke at the usual proportions. A pissy bartender might make you a Coke and a dribble of Jack. A friendly bartender might make you a Jack where he thought about adding Coke, and decided on just a drop or two.”

“Wow ... so, tip the fuck out of the bartenders...” Jason said.

“If you want good service and excellent drinks, hell yes,” Kelly replied.

“Important information to know ... in six years, when I can drink legally,” Jason said, smiling.

“Well, sir, you can drink now at Dominique’s, and at the party tonight ... take the lesson larger. The better you tip – the earlier you tip – the better your service will be, no matter where you’re eating or drinking.”

“Earlier?” Donna said.

“Okay, Dayna, back me up on this,” Kelly replied. “Milady, say you’re going in to a fine restaurant for supper, planning to be there for a few hours of relaxed eating and conversation. While you’re waiting, go to the bar, order drinks, and tip big. Believe me, the staff will hear about it.”

“Oh yeah,” Dayna said. “I’ve seen Master Grimes do it at Dominique’s plenty of times. He’ll hand Sinfonia at the bar a hundred, and then tip at thirty-five percent or higher at the end of the night.”

‘Yeah, he doesn’t do it to look like a big spender or anything, although if you could see some of our bar tabs...” Kelly continued. “He does it to let the staff know their efforts are going to be appreciated, and to ensure the best service possible.”

Lyra said, “I’ve worked service jobs, waitressing and such ... I’d do a normal, competent job for anyone who was pleasant. If I knew they were big tippers? Oh, I’d bust my ass every which way I could to make sure they were very happy with the service.”

“And Lyra just hit on a corollary to tipping well – I don’t care how shitty your day has been,” Kelly said, “you treat the staff well. I can guarantee you their day hasn’t been a bowl of cherries either.”

“Likewise,” Lyra said, “if you get shitty service for no perceptible reason? You’ve been polite, respectful, and your waitstaff gives shitty service? Talk to management, right then, right there.”

“Okay, thank all of you for the life lessons,” Donna said. “Really, I mean that.”

“So, is it time to stop delaying and get dressed?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Donna replied. “Time to get dressed and go face the gauntlet.”

Gloria Tanner

“Left the three of us behind like we were nothing...” Gloria said, sitting in the dim ‘mood lighting’ of Harry’s bunker hideaway.

She passed the bottle of Makers Mark to Camille, who took a big drink from it.

“How are we supposed to do our jobs – the important jobs – if he’s not here? I don’t think Master realizes...” Camille said.

“I don’t think he cares,” Gloria said. “Leaving you and me behind, Camille ... okay, I don’t like it, I don’t think it’s right, but whatever. Leaving Esther behind?”

Next to them, Esther sat quietly, staring off into space, tears oozing down her cheeks.

“She doesn’t understand,” Gloria said.

“I do so,” Esther muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, mentally you do, you’re not a moron,” Gloria went on. “But emotionally? If you understood it emotionally, little girl, you wouldn’t be crying.”

“You’re crying!”

“Yeah ... well, I’m on my way to getting drunk,” Gloria said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a swipe of her arm.

“Me, too,” Camille said, sniffing. “He doesn’t understand how subbies operate. I mean, we got left schedules, what was supposed to be done when and all, but it’s like ... it’s like...”

“It’s like he’s the sun and we orbit around him,” Esther said. “He’s who our entire lives are centered on. The sun is gone.”

Esther motioned for the bottle.

Harry

Master Hammond’s home was packed with Dominants and submissives and waitstaff – all of whom had worked this kind of event before, and were therefore not surprised by the attendees, or anything they did.

Which is a really good thing, Harry reflected.

“Are these the same people who attended our reception?” he asked Margo, softly.

“Yeah ... yeah, a lot of them are,” she replied. “I ... uh, I’m not sure what the difference is...”

Where their reception had been a reserved affair, the scene before them was anything but. Submissives were on display everywhere, on every type of equipment, and around them, their Masters and Mistresses were entertaining themselves however they chose to.

Abigail came up to them, hugging everyone.

“So happy you decided to attend,” she burbled to Margo.

“Glad we decided to as well,” Margo replied. “Uh ... not the party our reception had led us to expect...”

Abigail laughed.

“I probably should have warned you. Your reception? Everyone was on their best behavior. This party is more for having fun.”

Abigail grabbed Margo’s arm.

“C’mon, some people I want to introduce you to.”

Harry watched them leave, comparing Abigail’s crimson latex catsuit with detachable thong to Margo’s black leather shirt and pencil skirt outfit.

He, Margo, and Dommi had dressed fetish, but in a more reserved fashion. Margo was doing her best “MILF-School-Teacher-From-Hell”, and Dommi was Eastern European Army in a latex military dress and cap, done in violet with red trim, with swagger stick. Harry was in white PVC shirt and jeans.

They’d come dressed stylishly, instead of ready-to-play.

It appeared Chicago Society had come dressed to play.

“Hardly the worst mistake we’ll make in our lives,” he muttered.

“I’m sure Master Hammond has more ... comfortable ... outfits you could borrow,” Carol said, caressing his crotch. “Something flowing, and loose...”

“Behave, or I’ll have you spanked so hard you’ll be wearing those rope patterns on your ass for a week.”

“Really? Oh, that sounds lovely,” Carol said, dropping to her knees, rubbing her cheeks against his hardening cock.

“Lori, dear, go ask Master Hammond about alternative clothing,” Harry said, relaxing to the inevitable. “Magda, do something nice for Dommi.”

Jason

“I am not wearing that! That or those damn latex pants!”

Jason glared at Donna, and at the shirt she was holding up. On someone with a cut physique, it would look stunning. Jason knew he wasn’t that ‘someone’.

“Fine, beloved, what would you prefer?” she asked, smiling sweetly. “Other than to stay here, and in bed?”

He snorted.

“Don’t tempt me!”

“Sir, if that’s what you want to do, that’s what we’ll do, and everybody else can go to hell,” Abby said. “But if we are going, and you don’t like the choices made for you, what do you want to wear?”
“Okay ... covered up, dignified but stylish, and comfortable ... what I have packed like that?”

“How about that leather shirt, the fingerless gloves, and that indecently tight pair of black jeans?” Donna said.

“Rethink the indecently-tight-and-therefore-uncomfortable-for-a-long-night jeans, and we may be on to something.”

“Uh ... Donna, did we pack those deep maroon leather pants?” Abby said.

“Lemme check...” Donna disappeared into the suitcases. “Yes! Yes we did!”

“Those work, Master?” Abby asked, coming over to stand behind him, her hands working over his shoulders.

“Yeah ... yeah, those are pretty comfortable.”

“Oh boy,” Donna said. “Master-soaked leather pants, gonna be peeled off here, later this evening.”

“Who gets first shot at his naughty bits?” Abby asked.

“We can share,” Donna replied. “We don’t have to be hogs, we can be polite, well-bred young submissives.”

“Y’all take too long about it,” Kelly said, “and you may have to drag me away by my feet.”

“Or your hair,” Donna replied. “There’s certainly enough of it.”

Kelly ran her fingers through the ten-inch Afro she was sporting.

“Don’t be hatin’,” she said. “A sister’s gotta cultivate her glory.”

“Oh, not hating,” Donna replied. “I’m admiring ... and wondering how long you plan to let it grow?”

“As long as I can,” Kelly said. “And, to be realistic, I don’t see any reason to cut it anytime soon.”

“I wouldn’t,” Abby said. “Unless Master disagrees, I’m letting mine grow with no cuts except as required to keep the hair healthy.”

Jason reached up and took Abby’s hands, pulling her down, her head over his shoulder.

“My love, grow it as long as you like,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

“Keep that up, sir, and we won’t be going anywhere for quite some time,” Abby said, her voice almost a purr.

“Quit molesting our concubine, Master dear, and get dressed. We’ll do the same,” Donna said.

“Oh, all right,” Jason moaned. “Remind me to schedule several days of just staying in bed, once we’re through with the diplomatic shit.”

“Deal,” Donna said.

Radio Free Mordor

“Never worked a crowd like this before,” Jack said, looking at the ballroom full of submissives.

“Yeah,” Karen said, “I imagine you keep working our parties and such, you’ll be saying that a lot.”

“Biggest issue, Mistress Pinard,” Scott began.

“Call me Karen or lose your nutsack.”

“Biggest issue, Karen,” Scott continued, “these people don’t have any money.”

“What, we aren’t paying you enough?”

“No, no, that’s not the problem at all,” Keith said. “You’re being more than generous. Issue is, they want to tip us, but they don’t have any money to tip us with...”

“Still not seeing a problem.”

Mick waved a young man over from the spectators hanging out by the DJ booth.

“Carlos,” Mick said, “tell Karen what you offered us to play that Leozinho track.”

“You mean ‘Ela So Pensa Em Beijar’?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Mistress Pinard, I offered blow jobs, or one of them could take me in the ass...”

Karen started laughing.

“I think I see the problem...”

“My offer still stands,” Carlos said, licking his lips.

“No,” Scott said, “Karen, I don’t think you do. None of us care if he’s a guy sucking us off, and I wouldn’t care about the other ... it’s that they’re all offering us sex.”

“We can’t come that much,” Jack said, “no matter how much some people try to test that,” he finished, looking back at his partner, Joy.

“So they offer us drinks from the bar,” Keith said. “It’s already an open bar, but we appreciate the thought, but we’d die of alcohol poisoning pretty damn quick.”

Carlos’ request began playing and he headed on to the dance floor with a lot of other subbies.

“There’s no normal way for them to tip us, and they want to show their appreciation somehow,” Mick said. “That’s natural, and we appreciate the impulse ... it’s just ... there’s no real way for them to do it.”

“Yeah, that does kinda blow,” Karen replied. “So, can you live with the offers and such?”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “We’re more okay with it than they are. I’m really more worried about them. And as the evening wears on, and our audience gets more drunk, they’re gonna get more pushy too.”