Liv's Journey (7 page)

It was a sprawling two-story brick ranch house, with white trim. As promised, two security men stood at the front door, checking people's invitations as they arrived. They were not uniformed, but their size was plenty intimidating. They knew Trey on sight and addressed him as "Mr. Journey" though they stumbled over "Mr." as if they normally called him something else.

There was a little foyer inside, with scuffed parquet flooring and freshly painted pale cream walls. A large gilt-framed mirror made the small space seem bigger and gave guests a chance to have a quick look at themselves before entering the main room.

Liv took a look at her reflection. She was not wind-mussed, but she did feel butterflies. She had a momentary chill when the heavy overcoat was lifted off her shoulders by a woman wearing a lacy teddy and a lot of cheap perfume. The cold sensation was compounded by the fact that she wore no underwear. The pinstriped oxford shirt she wore with a loosely-knotted necktie, was starch-slick against her scorched bottom, and rubbed sensuously against her nipples. She worried that her imperfect body was too accessible, too easily exposed to all these people. She worried that the people would be weird and repugnant. That
she
would be repugnant. Her hands grew clammy with anxiety. Despite it all, she put on her best smile and followed Trey through the foyer and into a warm welcome.

There were about fifty people there and many large pieces of equipment. Liv didn't know what each piece was used for, but she was willing to be educated—academically, at least. Small groups were gathered in several scene areas. A woman was suspended on what must be an x-frame, her bare back lightly striped. There was a man behind her with a multi-tailed whip. A clutch of people were watching and chatting.

Nearly everyone knew Trey, of course. The men—largely dressed in jeans and dress shirts, or sometimes in leather pants—patted him on the shoulder, and the women, dressed in bright latex or silk and looking like tropical birds, turned their eyes down toward his boots and called him sir.

For Liv, the kind of respect he garnered was not particularly surprising, but the way it was shown was an eye-opener. Was she supposed to be avoiding eye contact with these unknown men as well? They looked respect-worthy, but how could she know? Didn't they have to earn her respect? She'd never demurred from a strange man in her life.

Trey introduced her around, telling his friends that she was new to BDSM and "untrained." Whatever that meant.

A slightly older man, his rugged features so similar to Trey's that they had to be related, was the last to greet them.

"Little brother! I was beginnin' to wonder if y'all had gotten lost on the way to the party." He smiled at Liv. "But I can see why you'd be distracted. Hello, pretty girl."

Trey snorted, but his smile was genuine. "Ace, this is Liv." He put his arm around Liv's shoulders in a gesture that said, "mine!" "Liv, this is my brother, Ace."

"Pleased to meet you...sir?" She looked up at Trey who nodded and grinned.

"Good girl," he said, then turned back to his brother. "Learns fast."

Ace's brown eyes meandered over her face and her cheeks got warm. His gaze then moved over her hair to her pointed breasts and down her long legs to her high, high heels. "Not bad, brother."

Some weird and perverse facet of Liv's personality got an inordinate amount of pleasure from that simple assessment. Distracted, she realized that it had made her smile rather too late to turn the smile into a remonstrative frown.

Trey's hand moved from Liv's shoulder to the small of her back, then down to cup her bottom. He gave it a squeeze then pointed to a bar set-up on the other side of the room. "Liv, will you please go and fetch me a Jack and coke? Get yourself something you like, too. I need a moment to talk to my brother about party details."

Ace hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his black jeans and watched curiously.

Liv looked from brother to brother and then nodded. "Sure." Trey patted her butt as she walked away, and a little bite of irritation flared. She wasn't sure she could deal with being objectified this way. It was possible, however, that nervousness was making her hyper-sensitive. This was, after all, a male dominance group and women were supposed to be subservient. She'd had an idea of what she was getting into. The night was still young.

As she moved through the room, she heard snatches of conversation. Mostly, it was chit-chat about the weather, traffic, travel stories. Some was pure gossip—he did, she did, they did. The most interesting tidbits were the scenes she heard being planned.

A woman was on her knees in front of a man of middle height, balding, but wearing a famous designer oxford shirt and some expensive Italian shoes with his custom-made slacks. A man with money, then, getting the obeisance of an attractive woman wearing a blue corset and g-string and nothing else. The man told her that she could have two choices tonight: pussy flogging on the bondage table, or nipple torture on the trapeze.
Torture?
Liv's blood raced. How dangerous was this group? The woman immediately thanked her "Master" and chose the nipple torture. Her voice was full of delight, and she smiled joyfully. Although Liv thought Trey was likely trustworthy, she was afraid of what he might ask of her. Torture sounded scary.

She trembled as she moved away from the couple and approached the bar. There was something intriguing and seductive about the idea of pain and sex being tied together, but
how much
pain made all the difference. Liv didn't think she was masochistic; she was…open to new sensations.

As she was walking back with Trey's Jack and coke and her gin and tonic, she saw Mark, Laura and Rosaria in a nearby seating area. They were having sex! Right there, in the middle of the place, Rosaria was sucking on Mark's thick cock while Laura was licking the brunette's pussy. They were focused on each other as though no one else existed in the room. Rosaria's face was a little flushed and her eyes were closed in concentration and pleasure. Laura was humming happily against Rosaria's wet flesh. Mark had his hands wrapped in Rosaria's long hair and was guiding her face on his shaft in the rhythm he liked.

Liv nearly dropped her drinks. Was Trey going to expect her to have public sex with him? Granted, Liv had had a kind of exhibitionist streak when she was skinny. She liked to be admired for her looks and was happy to show off how well she looked in designer clothes. But that was
in
clothes, not wearing fetish clothing and giving head. And, how did she feel about having a woman's mouth on her? Her usual attitude was that whatever consenting adults chose to do, so long as it wasn't hurting anyone, was okay with her. But, she'd never tried it and didn't know if it would be for her. Certainly, she was unprepared for the eventuality.

Trey was smiling with his brother a little distance away, and she relaxed a bit. Her bottom still smarted from what he called a "warm-up" but he hadn't asked more of her than she could accept. He knew she was a beginner in this world. He wouldn't expect her to jump in with open legs. Probably.

  * * *

"There are more people than I expected," Ace said, looking around, a small frown between his dark eyebrows.

"It is a little crowded," Trey remarked. "I expect that as the evenin' goes on, more people'll move to the private rooms and things'll loosen up in here."

"Yeah, probably." He turned to Trey and smiled. "The li-woo is a knockout, brother."

"I'm not sure she'd appreciate bein' called a
little woman
but she's most definitely a knockout." Trey's smile grew as he watched her approach. "I don't know how twisty she is, though. She looks a bit like a deer in the headlights right about now."

Ace laughed. "Go slow. That's how you keep 'em."

Trey snorted. "Yeah, like you'd know. You go through 'em like ice cream sundaes. Tasty while you eat 'em, but if you're done, you're done."

"You should talk."

"I tour in Afghanistan!"

"You make excuses!"

Trey frowned. "I oughta pop you one."

"You and whose…army."

They broke up laughing, and were still chortling as Liv walked up.

"Here's your drink…er…sir."

"Thank you, darlin'." He gestured toward hers. "That's not soda with lime, is it?"

She shook her blonde head. "No. Gin and tonic. But I'm only having one, so don't think you can get me drunk and take advantage of me."

Trey made his best innocent face. "Never."

Ace snorted and patted Trey on the shoulder, turning to leave. "Have fun, Trey. Nice to meet you, Liv-honey. I'm sure I'll see more of you later." He smirked at his own joke and walked away to be absorbed in the crowd.

Liv looked a little pale.

"Don't mind him. He cracks himself up regularly."

She smiled, though the expression was strained.

Trey reached out and ran a finger down her cheek, then cupped her chin. "I like it when you look at me, sweetheart, but with the other men here, you should drop your eyes. We don’t want them thinkin’ you’re out shoppin’ for a playmate, okay?"

"Okay. Sir."

Trey reached out and took her drink from her, then put it and his own down on a console table nearby. He dipped his head until their lips nearly met. Her breath smelled spicy and clean like the gin in her glass. "I could get used to hearin’ 'sir' from you."

Liv's eyes closed as he pressed his lips against hers. Tentative at first, their kiss was a tender exploration. Trey kept it slow, and though it was something of a public declaration there in the crowded room, he wanted it to feel intimate. They were the only two people in the world at that moment. He found her tongue with his own and coaxed it, teased it, brought her softly to heel. His hands went into her silky hair and held her where he wanted her, up against him from thigh to lips.

They broke in response to a shrill scream from one of the x-frames.

As Liv panted, her eyes wide and startled at the sound, Trey touched a fingertip to her kiss-swollen mouth, wondering if other parts of her were swollen too. He took a step back and confirmed her excitement: her nipples were tenting the front of the shirt she wore. "That's nothin' to be scared about, darlin'. Just someone havin' a good time."

"It sounded like she was hurt."

"Bein' in pain is not the same as bein' harmed. None of us here would harm a woman."

Her face began to clear. "You sound so sure. But the idea is to inflict pain."

"Pain is a sensation. Like my fingers on your nipples is a sensation." He rubbed the nubs as he spoke. "Like that wetness in your pussy is a sensation."

She gasped. "How…how did you know?"

"That you are wet?"

She nodded.

"I can smell it."

"Oh God. Are you saying I smell bad?"

He tweaked her nipples and she whimpered. "Hell, no. You smell as pretty as your orange blossom perfume, with the slightest hint of pure woman-nectar."

Her eyes were closed and she arched to press her breasts more firmly into his hands. Trey thought she might not even realize she was offering him more.

"Nectar. I like the sound of that," she whispered.

He could barely hear her above the din of the room, but her body told him much more than her words ever could. He pinched her nipples firmly, then harder. She moaned, but did not withdraw. How he ached to take advantage of her nakedness beneath the huge shirt, to press her into a carpet and ride her hard, feeling her squirm beneath him.

His jeans were too tight, his erection insistent. But he knew that he had to tread softly. He wanted them to enjoy each other for the remainder of the week. When she was ready to go back to New York, well…he didn't want to think about that. Separation was a part of his life in the army, and he was prepared for it. That didn't mean he had to like it.

She was beautiful, sweet, intelligent and sexy. That she seemed to be submissive, too, was a brass ring on his merry-go-round. He was determined to get it while the ride was in motion.

The spell was broken again, this time by a tall man in leather pants and a tucked-in loose cotton shirt. "Trey! Fine start to this year's camp, mate." He had an Australian accent.

"Ron Church. I saw your name on the list. I'm glad you made it."

The man smiled and the crags of his sun-battered face creased attractively. He offered his hand to Trey and they shook. Ron's bright blue gaze moved over Liv, and Trey was pleased to see her drop her eyes toward the floor as he'd instructed her. "This one's new to the group, though I'm sure I've seen her somewhere b'fore." He stared at her. "Can't place her." He reached out a hand, but Trey's look halted him. "With permission?"

"Liv, you can look up."

Her expression was a little tight. Trey thought maybe she was nervous because this was all new to her. But she was doing wonderfully.

Ron grinned at her. "Where've I see you b'fore, Liv? Some other party?"

Liv's eyes went to Trey; panic was rising in them. "Don't be so pushy, Ron. The lady is unavailable, and that's all you need to know." Trey tried to sound pleasant about it, but his voice was still firm.

Ron shrugged good-naturedly. "You never were a sharing bloke."

"Nope, never was, never will be."

"My loss, I'm sure." He gave Liv one more thorough look then turned to face Trey. "Are you planning a scene for tonight?"

"Maybe. Liv isn't used to public scenes, so I don't want to make a big deal."

Ron nodded. "There are the private rooms."

"Yeah. We'll see."

The Australian smiled, but the expression was made false by his narrowed eyes. "You're not becoming a pussy, are you, Journey? Is this woman leading you around by your dick?"

Trey laughed. Ron was fishing. "Hardly. There's this thing called class, Ron. You might want to look into it."

"Hmph." This time his smile was genuine. "I've got a girl here somewhere. Probably stirring up trouble; she's a feisty bint."

"I hope you find her before someone else does."

"Oh, she'd never look elsewhere. I've got the key to her collar, mate."

Trey slapped him on the back, encouraging him to move along. "Hope you have a good time, Ron."