Eighty Days Blue (33 page)

‘You really are no fun at all. I honestly don't know what that man sees in you. Now, I really must get back to my other guests. It won't be long now.'

Summer did not look up as he left, though she felt a sweep of air across her naked body as he pulled the curtain round the rail, separating her from the rest of the room.

A few minutes later, she heard the deep clanging of a gong.

Victor clapped his hands together like a delighted child as the crowd in the main room gathered to hear his address.

‘About time,' Ed whispered into Dominik's ear. ‘I was beginning to worry that the Viagra might wear off before he lets us loose on each other.'

Dominik frowned. He hadn't even considered taking a chemical aid, though he guessed that many of the other men in attendance probably had. He wasn't that bothered about the sex. He wasn't really sure why he had come at all. Or not mentioned it to Summer. Curiosity's sake, he supposed.

A suspicion began to gnaw at him as he thought of Summer. She had been behaving strangely since her return from the last tour. An air of sadness lingered over her, and he felt as though she had been hiding something from him.

Could Victor somehow have involved her in all this? He certainly wouldn't put it past the man; he looked smug enough tonight, and he had seemed to hint that something would happen this evening that Dominik would find particularly interesting.

Edward wasn't the only member of the throng growing impatient. All around him, couples and groups of people were embracing, kissing, stroking. A man standing in front of them had idly hitched up the skirt of the woman he was with and was running his hand over her arse. He was using his other hand to hold up her skirt, apparently aware that Ed and Dominik were watching, and choosing to give them a better view.

‘Mind if I join you?' Ed said to the man pleasantly, as politely as if he had asked to join two strangers at a dinner table.

The man looked at his partner, who nodded her approval.

‘Shall we?'

The three of them moved towards the playroom.

Edward turned back to Dominik. ‘Come along, then,' he said. ‘You might as well see what it's all about.'

Only a few minutes had passed since Victor's announcement that all of the rooms were available for use, but during that time, it seemed that at least half of those in attendance had made a run for it and were already fornicating on the benches and cushions by the time they got inside.

Dominik had never seen so many people having sex at once.

He stood still for a moment, looking around him and feeling foolish. The mass of flesh that he saw – breasts swinging and cocks either flaccid and dangling down or pointing stiffly to attention, legs idly opening and labia on display – did not turn him on, though he found it interesting to view, in an objective sort of way, the way that he felt about modern-art displays in trendy galleries or museums.

The woman they had been watching earlier caught his
eye
. She came over and laid her hand on his belt buckle, questioning. He nodded. She deftly unbuckled him and pulled his trousers down, then began to tease the end of his cock with her tongue, willing it to life.

Oddly, in the sea of sex all around, Dominik found that he could muster an erection only if he blocked out the other bodies and just concentrated on the woman in front of him.

She was about the same age as he was, he reckoned, though it was close to impossible to tell these days. Her long, brunette hair covered each of her nipples like two curtains, but could not cover her rather large breasts. From the back she was heavily set, with the muscled thighs of a person who engaged in manual labour or sport, and a large, soft backside, the sort that a man could knead as he thrust into her from behind.

The thought made his cock suddenly spring erect. Despite his initial misgivings, Dominik suddenly felt that he would like to feel this woman's legs wrapped round him, but that end of her was busy. The movements of her mouth round his cock had become more frantic and hurried, and he flinched from the occasional grazing of her teeth as her face was knocked around by the friction of the rest of her body as her partner fucked her.

Dominik was about to withdraw, to save the possible damage to his penis and take his attentions elsewhere when he realised that the woman was close to orgasm. It would be ungentlemanly of him to distract her by moving now.

Edward had covered his hand with a latex glove and was probing her arsehole. He looked a little like a mad scientist, but the extra stimulation certainly seemed to be giving her a great deal of pleasure. She seesawed between Dominik and the men behind her like a piston, pumping herself harder
and
harder against whichever cock or digit happened to be inside her until her body began to shudder and she let out a long sigh and then collapsed happily into a heap in front of them.

‘Thank you,' she whispered, to no one in particular, eyes closed and lips spread in a wide smile.

Dominik leaned down and stroked her hair, feeling a burst of affection as she nestled against his hand.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Summer had just begun to wonder whether Victor had broken one of the major kink commandments and left her bound and alone when she felt a subtle change in the energy of the room and caught a slight whiff of a sharp perfume, a fragrance with a hint of lemon.

Unwilling to advertise her presence to an unknown arrival who might not have good intentions, she held her breath and her body perfectly still. The curtain opened just the same. Whoever it was had found her, though she guessed that Victor had no doubt advertised some sort of show to his guests, and with the presence of a stage and a stage curtain, it was fairly obvious that something interesting might lie behind it.

She kept her head bowed, hoping that if she didn't move, the person might leave her alone.

‘Hmm . . . So you're the star of the show.'

Summer recognised her voice. She cast her mind back, mentally rifling through sounds and images to identify this person from her past.

That was it. Mistress Clarissa, the woman whose request for a drink had given her an opportunity to steal the cupboard key from Victor, where he had locked her phone and
clothes
, so that she could send a text message to Dominik and later make her escape.

‘I suppose I am,' Summer sighed. She had got used to the sensation of the rope knot brushing her clitoris now, and without any mental stimulation to go with it (surely it had not been Victor's presence that had turned her on?), she had just become bored and tired and was looking forward to going home and falling into bed.

There was a long pause.

‘I recognise that accent and the colour of your hair. And, I confess, your figure. Though I am sure that there must be other redheaded kinky New Zealanders in New York. You were at another of Victor's parties, weren't you? I believe you ran out before the main event. I hope he hasn't tied you up to avoid that eventuality this time.'

‘Yes, that was me, but no, I haven't been tied to prevent my fleeing. I'm here of my own free will. Victor and I had a falling-out . . . and I didn't want to be tattooed.'

‘He's not your master, then, or your dominant?'

‘No. I have someone else.'

‘And does your someone else know that you're here?'

‘No.'

‘Do you think that's wise?'

Her tone was quizzical rather than officious, but nonetheless Summer was irritated. Why didn't people mind their own damn business? If she had chosen to be strung up as a party centrepiece, then surely that was her affair.

‘Maybe unwise, but necessary.'

‘And you're aware of what you're letting yourself in for, what Victor has planned for you this time?'

‘Quite a lot of sex, I guess. I'm rather looking forward to it, as it happens,' Summer said defiantly.

‘Well, so long as you're certain, then so am I, and the rest of the guests, I'm sure. I hope you don't mind my intrusion. I wanted to make sure that everything Victor had planned was . . . legit. Now if you don't mind, I had better make my escape before the show gets started.'

Dominik left the room to find some refreshment feeling rather buoyant. His experience with Ed and the other couple, and his conversation with Clarissa had given him hope. If other people could work it out, then so could he and Summer. They might need to sit down and talk about it, work out what they both wanted, but at least he knew it was not impossible.

Clarissa caught his hand as he went in search of the woman with the chocolate shots. That someone in such scanty lingerie and a plume on her head as long as her legs could maintain any degree of camouflage was an indicator of the astonishing costumes that pervaded the crowd.

‘All kosher,' she said, ‘and something of a treat.'

‘Oh, really? What has the ringmaster arranged, then?'

‘He has a girl in store as a party piece, someone I have encountered before actually, though it didn't go so well last time. I'm rather surprised to see her again, but I spoke to her and she affirms she's actually looking forward to it.'

‘Oh? Well, that's a relief.'

‘A redhead. Edward will be pleased – he has a soft spot for redheads, as all men seem to these days. Whoever said that gentlemen prefer blondes?'

A heavy dread fell down on Dominik's shoulders, as if all the air in the room had turned to lead.

He made his excuses to Clarissa and hurried to the dungeon.

Glanced around. The other players were fully engaged in their partners, and the sound of various implements landing on exposed buttocks and backs drowned out his movements.

He moved to the middle of the room, lifted the curtain and peered through.

As he had feared, it was Summer. She was lying bound and naked on a raised platform, moaning softly.

His first instinct was to free her, to loosen her binds, to cradle her in his arms, but the expression on her face, her obvious arousal, stopped him.

He closed his eyes and imagined what it must be like to be her, senses obscured but for the sound and smell of the activity taking place all around, floggers beating down on bare skin, the moans and cries of a room full of aroused people, the scent of sweat and perfume, her pressure points alert and expectant, waiting to be interrupted by a stranger's touch.

He felt himself getting hard.

Then his eyes snapped open.

She had lied to him, told him that she was meeting a friend.

He remembered what Clarissa had said. Summer had allegedly told her that she was looking forward to it, that she had volunteered for this.

Why, Summer? He wanted to shake her. If he had known that Victor had invited her here, then they could have come as a couple, enjoyed all of this together. Did she think so little of him that she thought she had to go behind his back?

He retreated into the antechamber. Victor stood there, with a cruel smile on his lips.

‘Lovely, isn't she? Though I have to say I really do find her rather dull. I'm sorry you had to find her before I started the show. Curious, eh?'

Victor smelled of rubber, talcum powder and whatever spray it was he used to shine his latex, which gleamed like polished glass in the light.

‘What the hell are you playing at? Did you tell her I'd be attending?'

‘Oh, no, she doesn't know that you're here. I bet she didn't tell you what her plans for the evening were, though, did she?'

They were both whispering to avoid disturbing the other occupants of the room, but the fury in Dominik's voice turned his whisper to a hiss.

‘No, she didn't, but there must be some explanation. If you've coerced Summer here against her will, then I swear to God I'll kill you, Victor.'

‘There was no need to. You don't know her very well, do you? Hasn't she told you about our liaisons? It's not the first time that your Summer has enjoyed a party like this. She's rather popular with my acquaintances, in fact.'

Dominik's heart sank. Summer had always been unusually quiet when Victor's name was mentioned. If she had wanted to date the man or attend his parties, that was one thing, but doing it behind his back was another. Keeping him informed was the only thing that he had asked of her.

He sank down into one of the benches that Victor had set up for the audience.

The gong clanged again.

Victor waited for the players to finish their scenes and then proclaimed the beginning of the show.

One by one the partygoers filled the room, laughing and giggling, most of them in various states of undress, many of them drunk. A woman sat down on his right-hand side wearing what appeared to be a pair of patterned tights, pulled all the way up to the underneath of her breasts like a jumpsuit. A thick spiked collar encased her neck.

Edward sat down on the other side. His face was smeared with three different shades of lipstick. ‘This had better be good,' he said, ‘as I was having a wonderful time in the other room.'

Dominik grunted in approval. He was no longer in any mood to talk.

The lights dimmed. He heard the sound of metal scraping against metal as the curtain was drawn back.

Then a spotlight shot down from the ceiling, irradiating Summer in a beam of light. She had now been untied – Victor must have ducked under the curtain and released her – and she was resting on her knees and elbows, as if waiting to be used from both the front and the back.

Victor stepped into the stagelight in front of her and clapped his hands together.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, ‘for this evening's entertainment, I have a beautiful volunteer. She has asked me to arrange for her deepest fantasies to be fulfilled, to be used and abused by strangers until she can take no more. Naturally, I was happy to oblige. I present a true slut, for your pleasure.'

To demonstrate her readiness, Victor plunged a finger between Summer's thighs and she moaned, shifting backwards, as if inviting him to enter her again.