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Lost and Found: The Curve Masters (2) Page 2
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"John Parker as in the football superstar?" I asked.
"One and the same," Elise answered with a dreamy look.
Forgetting about Elise’s possible secret admirer joke, I tried to remember what I knew about that man. Somehow I remembered Elise mentioning him when she was moping after the last love of her life—Bruce something—dumped her last summer. John Parker was a good friend of that ex, and Elise hoped he would step in and take care of her.
At the time, I had envisioned them as a D/s version of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza—him tall and slender, her short and round. But the vision had never materialized. She was left wondering about his intentions when he vanished, called to the West Coast to take care of some family emergency. Elise hadn’t mentioned him since.
The elevator pinged, and the door opened in some sort of soft-lit reception area. Behind a long bar stood a woman dressed in red, dwarfed by a mountain of a man in black suit. The man greeted Tab and Elise by name and nodded when Tab gave him my name.
"Welcome to Laura's Dungeon," the woman said to Tabitha. "We hope you enjoy your visit."
We thanked her and made our way to a door decorated with a stylized woman's silhouette.
"Have you ever seen her before?" Tabitha asked Elise.
"Oh yes." Elise rolled her eyes. She tilted her head sideways, and batting her eyelashes, she said in a high-pitched, breathy voice, "My name is Nathalie, Sir. Nathalie with the French spelling mais oui."
Tabitha giggled. "I take it you and she didn't hit it off."
"You can say that again. The more I get to know her, the less I like her. Just last week, we attended a Shibari demonstration together, and the way she threw herself at the rope master was nothing less than shameful."
"She can't be all that bad if Master S hired her to replace Danielle. What happened to Danielle anyway?"
Elise's explanation about the fate of the previous receptionist was lost to me as I explored the ladies’ changing room. I caressed the plush red velvet sofas as well as the pile of soft bathrobes and towels at the entrance of a beautiful shower room. The place smelled delicious, like red fruits, but not too sweet. Turning back toward the door and my friends, I noticed a wall covered with Baroque sculpted wood lockers. Tabitha and Elise pulled clothing bags out of the bag and hooked three hangers on pegs by the cubicles.
Elise stripped down to a lovely forest-green thong and unzipped the first clothing bag to reveal a very tiny green costume. "That's mine." She stepped into it and fastened the front hook of her corset. "What do you think?"
"I think one of Santa's elves had an affair with Tinker Bell and you're their natural child," I said.
Tabitha laughed, unzipping a second bag to reveal a red outfit. "Yes, you nailed it. She's the naughty elf's love child."
"Is this mine?" I asked.
"Nope, the red suit is mine," Tabitha answered. "Yours is all white."
"Don't tell her," Elise scolded Tabitha. "I don't want you to spoil my surprise." Turning toward me while pushing her long blond curls to her back, she said, "I want you to strip totally naked and close your eyes. Tabitha will help me dress you, and we’ll tell you when you can look."
Curiosity eating me up, I undressed and folded my clothes in one of the empty cubicles.
"Lose the shoes as well," Tabitha said while turning around to invite Elise to pull up her zipper.
"Your turn now. Don't look and bend over," Elise ordered me, adjusting the position of her breast in the corset.
I obeyed and heard someone unzipping the last bag.
Tabitha whispered, "You outdid yourself again."
It took all of my will power not to open my eyes. Elise giggled, her laugh like fresh bubbles in champagne. As a chilled material slid over my bust and my hips I gasped. It warmed up quickly on my skin. I was surprised I could breathe freely. I expected something more constricting. A few seconds later, I realized my expectations were accurate. Something more solid was wrapped tightly around my waist. Hands pulled the material of the dress up and down and freed my hair from its usual bun.
"You can look now," Elise said, sounding as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. "What do you think?"
I opened my eyes and turned toward the full-length mirror next to the lockers. I had been magically turned into a shimmering snowflake. My curves were tightly wrapped in a white corset embroidered with hundreds of tiny crystals that sparkled even in the locker room’s dim lighting. The front was cut very low, but I could live with that. I’d always favored open necklines—my girls were my best assets. However, the material at the bottom was a mockery of a skirt. I turned around to look at my back. Yes, I would need to stand very straight if I didn't want to flash my impressive behind to everyone. As if reading my mind, Tabitha handed me the loveliest white undies. I recognized them from the Hips and Curves website. Even if the coverage was symbolic at best, I appreciated the gesture.
Tabitha prepared her makeup kit and was ready to put a bit of color on our faces. In a second, my lips were ruby red and my eyelids charcoal-black. After some light blush, she declared that I looked good enough to eat.
Elise pushed open an almost invisible door on the opposite wall and, taking my hand, brought me with her to her magical kingdom.
* * *
Chapter 4
Entering the room, I wiggled my toes in the plush carpet. The party was already well under way. By the bar were several women semi-clad in flowery costumes and two very fit men wearing nothing more than vine leaves. An older man, disguised as a very classy deer, was talking with two beautiful young girls dressed in artfully laced ribbons. I couldn't help staring at their imaginative costume. Both girls, one in red and the other in green, knelt by the older deer’s side. They seemed fascinated by his story.
Still holding my hand, Elise drew me close to a large sofa where two men in their thirties were having a serious discussion. "Masters Steven and James," Elise whispered as we neared, indicating with her head who was who.
My friends had often mentioned the two Doms who ruled over Laura’s Dungeon. My eyes were drawn to Steven Goldsmith. What was most fascinating about him was his expression of serenity. I would have expected that on an older Buddhist monk, not the owner of a sex club.
As we neared, they stood. My stomach knotted wondering if I would met their expectations. Both men were wearing black leather pants and opened white tuxedo shirts. They took turns hugging Tabitha and Elise before focusing on me. Master S, as Elise called him behind his back, studied me with kind eyes.
Tabitha introduced me as, "Our friend Diana."
Intimidated as though being introduced to royalty, I had to refrain from curtsying.
"It's so nice to finally meet you, Snowflake," Master S said, holding me at arm’s length and looking at me from head to toes. "You look absolutely ravishing. Elise has found a perfect way to make you sparkle."
"Thank you," I said.
"We’ve heard a lot about you, little one." Master S held my face in his very large hands and pressed his lips to my forehead in an almost fatherly fashion.
Then it was Master J's turn to scrutinize me. His expression was unreadable. Only a fool would play poker against him. "We're happy to welcome you to our world, Snowflake, and to honor the festive spirit of the evening, we will ask a favor of you."
"What would that be?" He frowned, and remembering the protocol Tabitha had done her best to drill into me, I lowered my eyes and said, "What would that be, Sir?"
"Try to be generous and choose to mend a heart tonight instead of breaking one." His tone was almost light, but his facial expression was severe.
What the hell was he talking about? He had confused me with some other guest, probably a femme fatale who had men rolling at her feet. I knew better than to roll my eyes in front of the dungeon master, but I found it difficult. As if I was in the habit of leaving a trail of bleeding hearts behind me!
The only heart that I had watched bleed out was mine, and it wasn’t yet properly healed. One
love, one wound so deep I feared it would never close. I knew it was still open because just hearing the name Leo was enough to freeze me on the spot. I officially hated the star of Titanic for making Leonardo such a popular name. One couldn't walk through Central Park without hearing mothers calling after their little Leos.
Escape artists, all of them!
Remembering my manners, I said, "Thank you very much for inviting me."
"It's our pleasure to have you here." Master S turned to his partner. "James, will you give Diana her grand tour?"
The last thing I wanted to do was walk around that place with the man who had the weirdest idea about who I was, yet I was unable to come up with a way to politely decline. For all I knew, being shown around by one of the owners was an honor. So when James turned to me, my answer was the only possible one. I followed James while his partner led Tabitha and Elise toward the bar, depriving me of my escorts.
Did Master J feel my reluctance to be alone with him? Probably, since he placed a hand on my elbow and silently directed me to enter a dimly lit hallway. We walked through a set of double doors.
"We're leaving the social area of the club to enter the play section. You are not allowed to go here alone," he said.
That wasn’t a question, so I didn't comment. I didn't think I was expected to. Behind the double doors was a larger, darker hall and, to the right, another door. He opened it for me. It led to a round hallway with four numbered doors. The first one was ajar and revealed a high school girl’s type of room, decorated in various shades of pink and purple. Was it a room for men have fantasies about sex with under age girls? My guide studied my expression as I looked around and raised an eyebrow.
"May I speak freely?" I asked.
He nodded.
"This room freaks me out."
James chuckled. "Then I guess you have no daddy issues."
Oh, right, some girls have older men’s fantasies.
The second door was closed. A sign hung on the handle.
"Occupied," he commented.
The third room was vacant. James gently led me into it. The walls and carpet were a deep navy except for the back wall, which was all mirror. In the middle of the room was a large round bed with inviting pillows and less inviting restraints tied to the frame.
The nightstand brought a smile to my face. It reminded me of mine with its assortment of sex toys in the open drawer. The difference was that all the toys there were wrapped and sealed and, I hoped, sterilized. I frowned, wondering what the job was like for the person in charge of room cleaning. Whoever they were, he or she was a gem. The place was spotless.
On top of the nightstand rested a large bowl with an assortment of condoms and colorful bottles. A closer look identified those as flavored lubes. I had no doubt that very little sleeping was to be carried out in that bedroom.
"We have four privacy rooms. As you have probably guessed, each as a different theme," he explained. "Now I’ll show you the public rooms."
Sure. As long as I was there, I may as well see everything.
We passed the hallway doors again and continued to the other side, which seemed bigger than the one we had just left. It was more populated as well. It had about the same set up, except open stages replaced the bedrooms. Despite the dimness in the first room, I saw chains on the back wall, which was sculpted as the stone of a medieval dungeon. We kept walking.
As we passed a door before reaching another stage with a dim light, James said, "These are small rooms for aftercare."
Aftercare?
On the second stage, I recognized a spanking bench and a Saint Andrew's cross. No need to be an expert in the field to identify those.
Pointing past the two empty stages toward the brightly lit one at the end of the hall, he said, "There's a scene which should be about to end. Would you care to watch?"
Did I? I wasn’t sure. I shook my head no.
"Would you care to explain why?"
I thought about it and confessed, "It would feel wrong, as if I were intruding on their privacy."
Master James almost looked sweet when he answered with a smile.
"I would totally agree if you were to look out through a window into a neighbor's house, but this is totally different. They do it in public because they want to be watched." He waited to let his words sink in then asked again if I wanted to watch.
"If they enjoy having spectators, then I shall watch.”
"That's all I ask. If you feel uncomfortable, just let me know."
One hand on the small of my back, he brought me closer to the stage. A woman was suspended from the ceiling by several ropes that somehow dressed her naked body. They reminded me of the ribbons the girls in the bar wore. It was the same concept but much more elaborate here. A man standing next to her slowly freed her from the web he had cast around her.
As he freed each limb, he massaged her flesh so tenderly that I was mesmerized. How much time it took for him to free her completely, I couldn’t tell. I just remembered standing there hypnotized until the end.
When the light was turned off and a curtain pulled over the scene, they were both sitting on the stage, and I was close to tears. Burned into my retina forever was the image of her skin lightly marked with the indentations from the rope. Her body had been treasured and worshiped as a work of art. A masterpiece, liberated from the knots only to be willingly imprisoned in the jail of his arms.
James stood by my side while the small crowd of watchers began to disperse toward the bar.
"That was beautiful," I said, wiping away a tear. "Thank you for convincing me to watch."
He nodded. "Would you trust me enough to try something else?"
I looked at him, trying to make up my mind. What would he ask of me now?
* * *
Chapter 5
"I would like you to listen to someone who has something very important to say to you," James said.
I tilted my head and was about to say something—I can't remember what—when I felt a strange sparkle in the air.
In hindsight, it must have been a combination of things: his smell that was still embedded in my brain, the little sound he sometimes made to clear his throat before he spoke. Yet at the time, I thought some magical connection attached me to him and made my body aware of his presence.
Whatever it was, I knew Leo was there. Looking into James's face, I bit my lower lip, silently begging him to take me away. My head shook from right to left. So did his, a mirror of mine, rejecting my silent plea. His expression was severe, his gaze strict enough to freeze me to the spot while all I wanted to do was vanish.
"Please, no," I whispered. I barely held myself together.
I didn't want to be shredded again. Of course I would survive. The pain of seeing him again would not destroy me. Hell, his abrupt departure when I was much younger and so madly in love with him hadn’t destroyed me. But even if I had no doubt I would survive, I didn't want to have to grieve again. I had shed enough tears over the man for several lifetimes.
Still, when I felt his hands on my bare shoulders, I couldn’t resist. I turned around to look at Leo, unsure I wanted to hear what he had to say but so certain I wanted to see what he had become. The answer hit me like a freight train. I couldn't remember how to breathe.
The tall, emaciated boy had turned into a well-built man, his body a perfectly maintained machine. His face told another story. The past six years had left some harsh marks on his incredibly handsome face and wrinkles around his eyes. His hairline had receded a bit, but it suited him, gave him a distinguished look. Unless that was the black leather pants and the white shirt.
He’d never worn leather before. Maybe it was a club thing? Unless... of course! He was a Dom. In there, more than anywhere else, clothes were a statement. The Doms were in black and white, and the subs were wearing costumes. And there I was, walking around with my snowflake suit, presenting myself as one.
Emotions overwhelmed me. Hurt came first. The pain of betrayal sear
ed my pride. I had been set up, a conspiracy between Leo and Tabitha. Elise had helped of course, but somehow, I didn't feel like blaming her. Unlike Tabitha, Elise hadn't known me back then. She hadn't known us. She hadn’t seen how my life had shattered. She couldn’t understand that in my life, there was a before and an after Leonard Parker Junior.
Steve and James were also in on it. What had I ever done to them to deserve such betrayal? Nothing. I hadn’t even met them before tonight.
Underneath the smothering pain, there was joy. Bubbles of the stuff sparkled and burst in my heart because all this scheming could only mean one thing: Leo wanted to see me again. The only question was why, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. Treacherous hope took over, and I couldn’t stop it from growing in my heart as I recognized longing in Leo's gaze.
As if possessing a life of their own, my hands moved to reach for him. They longed to cradle his face the way they used to. My palm itched as if my skin had a memory of the feel of his lips when he turned his head in my hand to kiss it. What would his response be if I were to touch him? I desperately wanted to, just to make sure I hadn't dreamed the sensation of his hand on my bare shoulder.
I restrained my impulse and folded my hands very close to my own body. Lowering my head, I stared at my hands and waited. I felt James move away, leaving the two of us alone.
Standing next to Leo in front of the stage, I heard whispers from those leaving the hall. Everyone was walking away. It was just Leo and me and the other couple behind the stage curtain. Was she still resting in the loving shelter of his arms? If so, they were perfectly silent. Questions popped into my head and burned my lips.
Eyes lowered, I played my role. After all, I had promised my friends—possibly my ex-friends. The jury was still out about the appropriate reaction to their betrayal—that I would give the part of a sub a spin. So I waited.