“I think this color looks sexy on you,” he said as he painstakingly painted her toes.

The deep metallic red did look pretty. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, worried. “You like the color, don’t you?”

She managed a smile. “Yes, I like the color.”

That relieved him. “Master said this could be a special little routine between you and me, before play parties.”

Fine with her, the foot rub had made her exceptionally horny while also nearly putting her to sleep.

When Sully said goodnight to Clarisse that evening, he cautioned her to get a good night’s sleep. In their bedroom, Mac was already kneeling, the punishment cane on the floor in front of him.

“How many?”

Mac didn’t raise his head. “I kissed her three times. Twice in the store and once in the car. I’m sorry, Master. She came out of the dressing room and… I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.” He sighed. “But it’s worth it.”

Sully smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt. Had he been there, no doubt he probably would have done the same thing, if not taking her against the wall the dressing room.

“I’m going to do something I haven’t done before, slave.”

“Master?”

“You get three strokes tonight. One for each kiss. I don’t want to stripe you and then waste a good play party because you’re too sore to play. I’ll take the rest out of you tomorrow night.” He dropped his shirt into the hamper. “Or, you can take them all tonight and you don’t play tomorrow night. Your choice.”

Mac blinked in confusion. “Master?”

“Your choice,” Sully repeated.

After a moment, Mac said, “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I thought you were going to play with me hard at the party anyway.”

Sully sat on the bed after stripping off his slacks. “That’s not a question, but you’re right.” Sully watched Mac ponder that.

“Not that I’m complaining, and yes, I’ll take the strokes at the party, but why?”

“Have I ever deliberately set you up to fail, slave?”

“No, Master.”

“Have I ever put you in a situation where you couldn’t help but earn punishment?”

“No, Master.”

“I told you to take her shopping. I should have gone too, but I wanted to work since tomorrow will be a lost day. Had I thought it out a little more, I probably would have anticipated this. Therefore, I don’t feel like punishing you for something that was ultimately my responsibility. Understand?”

“I understand, but I don’t agree. I could have not kissed her.”

Sully grinned. “Yeah, like that could have happened.” He pointed to his cock, which had grown stiff. “Get over here and take care of me. I’ll give you your stripes after you’re done.”

Mac eagerly complied as Sully relaxed on the bed. Mac knelt on the floor between Sully’s legs and slowly laved his tongue along Sully’s cock. Sully reached down and tightly gripped Mac’s hair.

“That’s it, slave. Suck my cock.”

Mac’s efforts increased. He worked his lips over the shaft, slowly, drawing it out for Sully the way he knew he liked. Over the years, he’d become an expert at reading Sully’s body, knowing where to lick, when to suck, how to time his efforts just right to maximize the man’s pleasure.

He took pride in his work.

He palmed Sully’s sac, gently stroked his balls, licked them, felt the tension of impending climax build in Sully. He backed off a little, just enough to prolong the pleasure before deep throating him, triggering his release.

His hips bucked against Mac’s face as he came, moaning as his hot juices pumped down Mac’s throat. After a few moments, Sully’s grip on his hair relaxed. Mac released his cock, rested his face against Sully’s thigh, and waited for him to recover.

Sully eventually patted his head. “Very good, slave. Excellent.

Get the cane. Ass over the bed.”

Mac complied as Sully sat up and took the cane from him. Then without fanfare, he quickly laid three strokes across his ass, stingy blows that didn’t break the skin. He put the cane away and got the lotion. Mac didn’t always need it, but the aftercare had become a familiar and comfortable part of their routine.

Mac’s stiff cock brushed against Sully’s thigh as they curled together in bed.

“Are you horny, slave?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. I want you good and horny for tomorrow night. Go to sleep.”

“Yes, Master.”

* * *

The next evening, they loaded into the Jag. Mac drove, and an hour later, they pulled into a gated driveway. The area was rural, the property heavily wooded, neighbors scarce. Mac spoke to someone through the intercom. A moment later, the gate rolled open and they drove through.

Clarisse felt another bout of nerves threatening. Could she do this?

Really? Despite Sully’s assurances that he would respect a safeword, she felt renewed doubts creep in.

This was a chance to make her fantasies come true, and one she wouldn’t willingly give up until she’d had a chance to see them through. Sully and Mac looked darkly handsome. Both wore jeans and black button-up shirts. Mac wore his leather collar, padlocked shut.

The driveway wound through the woods until they reached a large cleared area. From what she could see of the woods, she suspected it was a tree farm. Several cars were already parked outside a large building that looked like a barn. Windows in a nearby house appeared dark.

Clarisse waited for Mac to open the back door for her and help her out. She nervously eyed the expanse of grass she’d have to navigate in her heels between the car and the barn. Sully walked around the car and, without fanfare, scooped her into his arms and carried her.

She looked into his eyes, felt her heart thumping at his amused expression.

“You ready for tonight, baby?” he murmured.

She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry.

Mac followed them after getting a few things from the trunk.

They’d brought a covered dish, as had everyone else, and two duffel bags full of items Sully deemed necessary for the night’s play, including the outfit Sully wanted her to change into.

Sully set her on her feet when they reached a concrete pathway leading to a small door at the end of the barn. He kept his arm around her waist as she tottered toward the entrance. Mac had spent time helping her practice walking in the heels, but she felt far from steady.

A man holding a clipboard greeted them outside, checked their names off a list, and welcomed them.

A woman sat at a desk in the small entryway and checked them in.

Sully took Clarisse’s arm and led her through a curtained doorway into a large dressing room.

Lockers lined the walls and several people were changing clothes.

A few of them greeted Sully and Mac by name. Clarisse tried not to stare and failed miserably. People were in various stages of dress and undress—bustiers, corsets, fishnets—and that was just a couple of the men.

Mac stowed their gear in a locker while Sully led her through to another room. Mac followed, carrying the casserole he’d made. A few people already stood around a buffet table set up in one far corner.

The huge play space boggled her mind. The enormous building had been turned into a dungeon. There were a few curtained-off areas, but much of the space lay open where anyone could watch.

What have I gotten myself into?

Sully guided her over to a chair in a quiet corner, made her sit, and knelt in front of her. Mac stood behind him, watching. “I’m going to collar you for the evening, sweetheart. Just a formality.”

Fear gripped her. “Why?”

He smiled. “Nothing will stop a jerk from hitting on you if he’s determined, but most of the people here, if you’re wearing a collar, it’ll send them a message that you’re taken. It’s not a locking collar.

It’s one of Mac’s old play collars.”

It belonged to Mac? Somehow, that made the notion more comfortable. She nodded.

Mac handed Sully the collar, and he fitted it around her neck. It was way too loose, even on the smallest hole. He removed it, pulled out a pocket knife, poked a new hole in it, then tried again. Not too tight, not too loose.

The pleased grin on Mac’s face wiped away all fears in her heart.

“Is that okay? Is it comfortable?” Sully asked.

She nodded and, feeling it with her hand, noticed a small tag attached to the collar. She couldn’t read it, but she fingered it. “What does that say?”

Sully smiled, his grey gaze holding her captive. “Mine.”

She gasped. The possessive way he’d said it took her breath away.

“Another thing,” he said. “For tonight, you’ll address me as ‘Sir’ when talking to me. I will call you ‘girl.’ That’s the only formality I’ll insist on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir. Why don’t you want me to call you Master like Mac does?”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he looked…sad. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Because I’m not your Master, sweetheart. You’re not my slave. Tonight is just to see how you’ll like it. I take the relationship and responsibilities I have with slave as his Master more seriously than a marriage. It’s not just a role-playing game to us. Understand?”

Emotions spun through her. She nodded.

He smiled, erasing the sad look from his face. “Good girl.” He offered his hand and helped her stand. “Let’s go introduce you around.”

Doreen and Alex arrived. When she spotted Clarisse, Doreen squealed with joy and enveloped Clarisse in a hug that nearly knocked her off her feet. Fortunately, Sully stood there with his hands on her waist, keeping her upright.

“I’m so glad you made it! You’re going to have a blast tonight!”

Clarisse wasn’t sure if she’d remember anyone Sully introduced her to. Maybe if reminded what they wore, because that’s what stuck in her mind. If so, they could jostle her memory with descriptors such as “painful looking metal cage on his cock man” or “the woman with the pierced nipples and bells strung on them.” Everyone was friendly and welcomed Clarisse. As the arrival window closed and the party’s official start time drew near, more people changed from street clothes into a wide variety of fetish wear from relatively tame to totally naked with accessories.

Frequently hung from pierced body parts.

She wondered if Sully would make Mac change, but he didn’t.

Yvette and Mike showed up, as did Bob and Jenna. Yvette had Mike naked and hunched over. Yvette grinned at Clarisse’s puzzled expression. “Bet you’ve never seen one of these before, have you?

Turn around, boy. Show her your pretty ass.”

Mike shuffled around so his backside was visible. Across the backs of his thighs lay a long wooden clamp, with a hole in the center, through which were clamped his…

Clarisse felt a sympathetic pain in her own nether regions. The device tightly squeezed his balls and cock. Yvette had clipped his cuffed wrists to each end of the thing.

“It’s a humbler,” Yvette gleefully exclaimed. Then she spun him around, caught his head with her arm, and pulled him up. He winced as his cock and balls were stretched by the device. “He’s my good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” he gasped.

She let him return to his hunched over position. “He talked back to me on the way here. Normally I don’t make him wear it this soon in the evening, but I gave him a choice of this, or I was going to let Ray and Oot have their way with him and spit roast him. He chose this.”

“Ray and Oot?”

“You haven’t met them yet, girl,” Sully said. He spotted someone at the other end of the building. “In fact, there they are. Let’s go introduce you before they start playing.”

Yvette stopped Sully. “Hey, can I play with Mac later?” She grinned. “I brought an extra humbler.”

“Sorry. I have plans of my own for him tonight.”

“Damn. Oh well.” She slapped Mac on the shoulder. “Lucky you.”

As they made their way to the other end of the building, Mac muttered, “Yeah, lucky me is fucking right. Thank you, Master.”

“You honestly think I’d let her play with you again after the last time?”

“I hope not.”

“What happened?” Clarisse asked.

Mac stepped to her other side. Keeping his voice low he said, “I had to pee sitting down for a week. That psycho bitch makes Sully look like Santa Claus. She’s one of the few times I’ve ever safeworded for pain. She makes the Marquis de Sade look like a sweetheart.”