Part 1: All Plays Need a Good Stage Director
I didn't know if I arranged this right, but the girls texted me that they were on their way in tight black corsets and thigh-high heels. Alyssa then sent a winkie face with an unnecessary space in between the characters.
"Generic as fuck," Shaun said. He gave me this lecture about switches and how my mindset was wholly cracked—that no one is either "permanently dominate or submissive"; we all just want unpredictability. I tried to tell him that he was basically entrusting 4 people who have never participated in BDSM to somehow be both safe and completely reckless.
My aunt and her new plaything entrusted me with this Cedar Grove mini-mansion for a week as they had flown to the Bahamas or something. I was to watch over her 3 kitties and keep the place as un-lived in as it currently looked. Easy stuff. It was time for a little creativi-tay!
Alyssa Chee and Maria Kay were nothing if not adventurous. I knew not of the pair's sexual inclinations--but based on their risqué behavior at supposedly tame indie rock concerts and public parks, I figured they'd be ready to try something new. As for Shaun, he was like my sexual spirit animal. I needed him to be there on such a momentous occasion.
"How long are they gonna be?" Shaun spat out. He sounded both nervous and vaguely entitled, but I knew better than to question his mentality. We told them 7pm, and as that marker passed they were at least an hour away.
"Who knows? Is there traffic on Saturday nights?" I responded absently. My nerves were a bit more palpable. What if they never came? Were we prepared? Shawn's box of 'BDSM ESSENTIALS'--containing cuffs and chokers and at least one chastity belt--looked shallow and unremarkable. I felt like there should be a guidebook in there.
"Fucking dumbass, there's always traffic around here," my spirit animal barked. Honestly, I was five seconds away from kicking this guy out; his pseudo-arrogant tones weren't welcome to my anxious ears. I wanted to call one of the girls to make sure they were coming.
"50 minutos babe," Alyssa assured. She sounded like she wanted me to think she was drunk. "We'll see ya in a bit--keep your pants on hon." My pants were fastened quite tightly, thank you very much.
I hastened myself over to a mirror to take a look. Black corduroy jeans fitting snugly in most areas, dark blue polo one-buttoned, face frozen in shock. In the background, Shawn was pacing in some sort of funeral suit, his 5'6'' frame engulfed by its massive girth.
Sparkle, the smallest of my aunt's three felines, sauntered into the living room. By this point I was browsing Reddit, listening to some shitty Spotify mix--anything I could do to pass the time. The equally-anxious kitten plopped on my lap and gave me a small ping of comfort. I brushed my finger against the tiny white line of fur on her head. She purred and re-fixed her position, stepping on my groin in the process. It seemed like a sign. Shawn jumped off the couch with a surprising vigor.
"They're here," he alerted.
Alyssa walked in first, her massive heels clanking with the furnished wood floor. She wore a jet black push-up corset and nylon stockings. Her normally carefree visage had become angular and determined. She shot her hazel eyes down at me for a split second before surveying the house. The most salient difference to me was her auburn hair, which was wound in the tightest beehive I had ever seen. Miss Chee then broke character, flashing a knowing grin in the general direction of the living room. Her friend walked in shortly thereafter.
Maria's arrival was less dramatic but more forceful. She paced about the entranceway for a few seconds, sizing up the people and places she was working with. Her dark brown hair was completely adrift, occasionally covering a devilish smile. The beautifully sinister domme sported a not-so-tight latex bodysuit with thigh-wide openings. She wore purple mascara and a spiked choker around her neck. Her heels were slightly less elevated--maybe four inches compared to Alyssa's eight. I couldn't help but be intimidated by her radical energy and fluttering eyes.
"So how are you two lovely ladies doing?" Shawn spat out. He then retreated inward a bit, his confidence dissolving as quickly as it arrived.
"Aren't you gonna ask about the drive?" Alyssa responded, acknowledging Maria for a half-second before beckoning us men of the evening.
"How was the--" I quietly began.
"Oh hush, Chee," Maria interrupted, stomping over my shaky voice. "These fine, well-dressed men don't wanna hear about our boring drive."
She was right, but we talked about it and exchanged other pleasantries for a little while--pacing about the foyer, through the living room, eventually convening in the enormous darkly-painted kitchen. As the minutes shot by, the chaotic excitement of my mind began to set into a cozy clarity. We all just sat with emotional readiness; in our ornate invincibility, we all looked way too confident (given the circumstances).
"Shall we go upstairs?" Alyssa implored.
"We shall," I answered, feigning bravado for a cool half-second.
The four of us headed toward the moderate spiral staircase; we carefully walked upwards, savoring each expensive step. The 2nd floor revealed a long hallway with four doors on either side. Although this was only my third or fourth time here, I knew which one held the master bedroom--its vast, darkly-decorated interior etched in my mind.
"Third on the left," I said, devoid of any context.
"What? Is that where we're experimenting tonight?" Shaun responded. He shot some halfhearted smiles at us, which we returned with muttered laughter.
"It's the master bedroom," I stated resolutely. "It's fucking huge, but there's also a guest room with plenty of space for, uh, experimen—you know, whatever."
Thus, I led the three sexual artistes to the sanctuary du jour. A thick white door led into a blissful beige room with an ocean of vertical space. Therein lie a king-sized bed—its grey bedding folded with mathematical precision. On either side of the behemoth was a wall-high window fully blinded. The room was virtually empty save for a tall white dresser to our left and a few plush love-seats spread throughout.
"This is something," Alyssa chimed in after some wide-eyed silence.
"It's great, right?" I instantly replied.
"Okay, so who has the box of toys and shit?" Shaun piped in.
"Fellas, get on your knees," Maria ordered.
"Oh shit, yes Mas—Mistress, right?" my friend jumbled.
The girls exchanged knowing glances—desperate, confident eye-locks.
"How long are they gonna be?" Shaun spat out. He sounded both nervous and vaguely entitled, but I knew better than to question his mentality. We told them 7pm, and as that marker passed they were at least an hour away.
"Who knows? Is there traffic on Saturday nights?" I responded absently. My nerves were a bit more palpable. What if they never came? Were we prepared? Shawn's box of 'BDSM ESSENTIALS'--containing cuffs and chokers and at least one chastity belt--looked shallow and unremarkable. I felt like there should be a guidebook in there.
"Fucking dumbass, there's always traffic around here," my spirit animal barked. Honestly, I was five seconds away from kicking this guy out; his pseudo-arrogant tones weren't welcome to my anxious ears. I wanted to call one of the girls to make sure they were coming.
"50 minutos babe," Alyssa assured. She sounded like she wanted me to think she was drunk. "We'll see ya in a bit--keep your pants on hon." My pants were fastened quite tightly, thank you very much.
I hastened myself over to a mirror to take a look. Black corduroy jeans fitting snugly in most areas, dark blue polo one-buttoned, face frozen in shock. In the background, Shawn was pacing in some sort of funeral suit, his 5'6'' frame engulfed by its massive girth.
Sparkle, the smallest of my aunt's three felines, sauntered into the living room. By this point I was browsing Reddit, listening to some shitty Spotify mix--anything I could do to pass the time. The equally-anxious kitten plopped on my lap and gave me a small ping of comfort. I brushed my finger against the tiny white line of fur on her head. She purred and re-fixed her position, stepping on my groin in the process. It seemed like a sign. Shawn jumped off the couch with a surprising vigor.
"They're here," he alerted.
Alyssa walked in first, her massive heels clanking with the furnished wood floor. She wore a jet black push-up corset and nylon stockings. Her normally carefree visage had become angular and determined. She shot her hazel eyes down at me for a split second before surveying the house. The most salient difference to me was her auburn hair, which was wound in the tightest beehive I had ever seen. Miss Chee then broke character, flashing a knowing grin in the general direction of the living room. Her friend walked in shortly thereafter.
Maria's arrival was less dramatic but more forceful. She paced about the entranceway for a few seconds, sizing up the people and places she was working with. Her dark brown hair was completely adrift, occasionally covering a devilish smile. The beautifully sinister domme sported a not-so-tight latex bodysuit with thigh-wide openings. She wore purple mascara and a spiked choker around her neck. Her heels were slightly less elevated--maybe four inches compared to Alyssa's eight. I couldn't help but be intimidated by her radical energy and fluttering eyes.
"So how are you two lovely ladies doing?" Shawn spat out. He then retreated inward a bit, his confidence dissolving as quickly as it arrived.
"Aren't you gonna ask about the drive?" Alyssa responded, acknowledging Maria for a half-second before beckoning us men of the evening.
"How was the--" I quietly began.
"Oh hush, Chee," Maria interrupted, stomping over my shaky voice. "These fine, well-dressed men don't wanna hear about our boring drive."
She was right, but we talked about it and exchanged other pleasantries for a little while--pacing about the foyer, through the living room, eventually convening in the enormous darkly-painted kitchen. As the minutes shot by, the chaotic excitement of my mind began to set into a cozy clarity. We all just sat with emotional readiness; in our ornate invincibility, we all looked way too confident (given the circumstances).
"Shall we go upstairs?" Alyssa implored.
"We shall," I answered, feigning bravado for a cool half-second.
The four of us headed toward the moderate spiral staircase; we carefully walked upwards, savoring each expensive step. The 2nd floor revealed a long hallway with four doors on either side. Although this was only my third or fourth time here, I knew which one held the master bedroom--its vast, darkly-decorated interior etched in my mind.
"Third on the left," I said, devoid of any context.
"What? Is that where we're experimenting tonight?" Shaun responded. He shot some halfhearted smiles at us, which we returned with muttered laughter.
"It's the master bedroom," I stated resolutely. "It's fucking huge, but there's also a guest room with plenty of space for, uh, experimen—you know, whatever."
Thus, I led the three sexual artistes to the sanctuary du jour. A thick white door led into a blissful beige room with an ocean of vertical space. Therein lie a king-sized bed—its grey bedding folded with mathematical precision. On either side of the behemoth was a wall-high window fully blinded. The room was virtually empty save for a tall white dresser to our left and a few plush love-seats spread throughout.
"This is something," Alyssa chimed in after some wide-eyed silence.
"It's great, right?" I instantly replied.
"Okay, so who has the box of toys and shit?" Shaun piped in.
"Fellas, get on your knees," Maria ordered.
"Oh shit, yes Mas—Mistress, right?" my friend jumbled.
The girls exchanged knowing glances—desperate, confident eye-locks.
Stay tuned for Part 2...
