Collared (Vegas Nights Book 1) Page 10

  Diamond nodded, wordlessly. In her head she was thinking that if Pax ever tried to put her on a leash and force her to drink out of a bowl like a dog, it would be the literal end of Paxton Donovan.

  They reached the bar, and handed their drink order to Ray, who looked over the order, and signaled them to wait since it was such a simple one.

  As they waited, Diamond took another opportunity to look around, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Tabitha, at least, was only being treated like an animal. Some of the women, also kneeling on the floor, although not leashed, actually had tails sticking out of holes in their leather booty shorts. A robust woman in front of her knelt on all fours, with a long golden colored tail sticking out of her bottom while her Dom stood over her wielding a riding crop. Diamond didn’t even want to know how the tails were affixed, although she had a feeling she had an inkling.

  “You are definitely not in Kansas, anymore Toto,” she whispered to herself as she turned back towards the bar to keep herself from staring.

  Ray gave them the order on two large trays, and they made their way across the club. It was a more difficult trek with the drinks than it had been without due to the abundance of random women kneeling on the floor.

  They set the trays on a table near Adrian and watched in fascination as he winked at them, before serving each of the women before any of the men so much as looked at their drinks. Colton took a bottle of water, and knelt on the floor next to Petra. Grabbing her hair, he gently titled her head, and when she opened her mouth to drink, he slowly poured the water past her lips and into her open mouth.

  It was the single hottest thing Diamond had seen so far. A dominant serving his submissive. While that was happening, Adrian had opened the last bottle, and was slowly pouring it into the red glass bowl. She was amused to see that the bowl was emblazoned not only with the Rojo logo, but with the word Pet, on it in elegant script. Rojo, it seemed, was well equipped for any situation.

  Adrian leaned down and placed the bowl in front of Tabitha, giving her a hard slap on the rear as he straightened.

  Diamond was tempted to watch to see if Tabitha actually drank from the bow as she was seemingly expected to, but Crystal took her by the arm once more and turned her away.

  “Rule number two—don’t stare. It’s hard at first, but pretty soon you will get used to everything, and it will get easier.”

  “Like the spanking?” Diamond questioned, remembering her conversation with Crystal on that first night.

  “Yup, just like that,” Crystal agreed. “Look! A hundred-dollar tip,” her friend added happily as they walked away, shoving the crisp bill into the crevice between her breasts. “We’ll split it later. I love those guys. C’mon, let’s go over here. I’ll introduce you to the mistresses.”

  The mistresses, as Crystal called them, were even more intimidating than the Tanners. There were seven of them, all decked out in various outfits of leather and latex in various shades of red. They were exquisitely made up, and their tanned bodies towered over her in their stiletto heels. They were less friendly than the men, and seemed aloof as they approached. They were also, she noted with interest, surrounded by young men in latex hot pants and collars who knelt at their feet. Unlike the submissives across the way, the “boys” as Crystal referred to them, were turned towards the woman, and appeared to be worshiping at their feet.

  The mistresses didn’t bother with introductions or niceties, also ordering bottles of water for the men, along with white wine for themselves. They took the order once more, and delivered it themselves, again receiving a sizeable tip. When the lights flashed red, they left the group. The stage lit up and Pax was standing in the center of it.

  “Good evening, and welcome,” he greeted the crowd, who had suddenly gone silent and turned toward the stage. “Tonight is our long awaited and largely anticipated flogging demonstration. Flogging,” Pax continued, pacing the stage slowly, his deep voice rumbling into the microphone and across the club, “is an art form—one that can be used to bring much pain to a naughty submissive, and much pleasure to a deserving one. The flogger is not an instrument to be wielded by an inexperienced dominant or mistress as it requires much precision and skill. I always recommend that a person attend at least one lesson or demonstration before picking up a flogger themselves, which is why we like to occasionally host such demonstrations here at Rojo. Tonight, we have the distinct pleasure of having the renowned BDSM expert and master flogger, Sir Darius, joining us on stage to give a beautiful demonstration on the art of flogging. Please welcome him and his wife and 24/7 lifestyle submissive, Roxy, to the stage.”

  Pax made a sweeping gesture towards the curtains before exiting the stage on the opposite end, and taking a seat in the front.

  Sir Darius was hands down the most intimidating ox of a man Diamond had ever laid eyes on. His size alone made the Tanners look like field mice. Darius had the darkest skin she had ever seen, which made his white wife beater nearly glow in contrast. He wore camo cargo pants, and a black fedora on top of his head. A large silver hoop hung from his right earlobe, making him look as if he was about to recite poetry in a cafe rather than give a demonstration on flogging in a BDSM club. He snapped his fingers, and instantly, two stagehands appeared, carting a formidable looking object of leather and metal. It looked almost like a piece of workout equipment, but without the weights.

  “Oh, that’s a nice one,” Crystal squealed beside her.

  “Mmhmm,” Diamond agreed. “What is it?”

  “Spanking bench,” Crystal whispered, never taking her eyes off the stage. “Shh. I love flogging, and Sir Darius is hot.”

  Diamond had to agree that he was indeed, in a scary sort of way, one of the hottest men she had laid eyes on tonight, excluding Pax, of course.

  He snapped once more, and a tiny blip of a woman with skin as white as his was dark skittered out to join him on stage. The thin strapped dress she wore was long and plain, although the raven haired beauty inside it was anything but. He introduced her briefly as his wife and submissive, Roxy, and then he took her hand and lovingly guided her prostrate across the bench. When she was settled, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pair of scissors, slitting her dress up the back, exposing her white panties, and the creamy freckled skin of her back—stopping right near the top of her rib cage.

  “Well, that’s handy,” Diamond muttered, suddenly understanding the function of the woman’s plain dress was to afford her privacy while still giving her partner easy access to her exposed areas.

  Roxy gave an involuntary shiver as the cool air kissed her skin. Sir Darius stooped to the ground, and picked up a small leather duffel that Diamond hadn’t noticed before, placing it on top of Roxy’s back for balance, and began to dig in it, before extracting two leather floggers, and returning the bag to sit on the stage, underneath the bench. The floggers he pulled out were beautifully crafted of a bright purple leather, which made her smile. Darius certainly didn’t look like the type to be wielding such beautiful and colorful implements. Everything about the man was dark and foreboding including his name. Seeing his dark hands wrapped around the thick purple handles was a mesmerizing sight. Flicking one of the floggers in the air a few times, he held it up for inspection, explaining that it was a suede flogger, quite stingy and not for beginners. According to Sir Darius, this particular flogger had twenty falls, each one being twenty-three inches long, and a quarter inch thick. He went on for a while, his spiel purely informational, but it was after all, a demonstration.

  The bartender Ray, caught her eye, and motioned her over to the bar, where he handed her a tray of drinks at pointed to the mistresses. Ugh. She didn’t really want to go over there without Crystal, but the other girl seemed mesmerized by the show taking place up on stage, even though nothing was really happening yet.

  This time, when she served their drinks, the head mistress, or so she assumed, asked her name, and introduced herself as Lady Kimmora, or Lady K. Unlike the dominants, Lady
Kimmora didn’t deign to introduce her subs, who were literally kissing her feet while Lady K stood there chatting, as if having half a dozen grown men worshipping at her feet while she carried on a conversation consisting purely of inconsequential small talk was nothing out of the ordinary, and for her, it probably wasn’t.

  “Is there, anything else, I can get for you, Lady K?” Diamond asked, adopting the nickname.

  Lady K lifted the glass to her kips, but didn’t sip. “Sit,” she ordered, waving Diamond into an empty chair beside her. Not knowing what else to do, Diamond sat. Her job was to keep the guests happy, so If Lady K wanted her to sit, sit she shall.

  The air was thick with uncertainty as Diamond sat, amidst a sea of leather clad ladies wielding various implements surrounded by feet worshipping slave boys.

  “Massage?” asked the woman on her right. She hadn’t introduced herself but Crystal had said her name was Mistress Carrie.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Would you like a leg massage while you sit?” she asked impatiently. “Owen here is quite good at them, and I would be happy to share his services with you for the evening.”

  Diamond froze, thinking that this was by far the strangest thing that had ever happened to her. Was it rude to decline the massage? Would she somehow offend the mistresses by doing so? She was unsure of proper etiquette for when a mistress offered you the services of her slave-boy. Was there even such an etiquette? Ugh, she never should have come over here without Crystal, and now she was stuck, and they were all peering at her expectantly, awaiting her answer.

  “Oh, I, um… no, thank you?”

  At that, the mistress gave a curt nod, and Owen retreated, finding a seat on the floor near the front of the table, apparently being given permission to enjoy the festivities.

  Frozen in place, Diamond wished she had a water, or preferably, something stronger, although Pax had made it clear in no uncertain terms that that was not to happen without his express permission.

  “Have you ever seen a flogging?” Lady K asked, regally crossing her legs, as she sipped her wine slowly.

  “Oh, no, ma’am. I haven’t seen much of anything really. I’m new here.”

  Lady K nodded knowingly. “I thought so. You’ve got that deer in the headlights look about you this evening.”

  “Oh, I…” Diamond stalled, unsure of what she was able to, or even wanted to say. She had the distinct feeling that Mistress Kimmora could make her spill her guts at the flick of a wrist if she wanted to. “It’s all new. I’ve been spanked before but that’s it.”

  “Ahh,” her temporary companion sighed knowingly. “And did you enjoy it, being spanked?”

  “Well,” Diamond replied with a ghost of a smile, “I’m not sure I was supposed to enjoy it, but yes, I did. Very much so.”

  “Sit back, and enjoy the show then. You’re in for a treat.” Lady K pointed at the stage, where the explanation had ended. The lights had lowered, and two spotlights had appeared. One was focused on Sir Darius’s hands and the implements he wielded, and the other shone brightly across Roxy’s panty clad backside.

  A soft, thuddy instrumental ballad played over the loudspeaker, leaving Diamond entranced. Darius was holding an identical flogger in each hand, and he, much like Pax, was putting on quite the opening show. The soft leather strands had yet to touch Roxy’s backside, but she was already squirming in her seat as he flicked the leather above her skin. From her reactions, it was obvious that she could hear it, that she could feel the air moving as it flailed through the air but the strands stopped short—coming to rest as close to her bottom as they possibly could without actually touching her.

  Finally, holding his hands even with his chest six inches apart from each other, and stooping slightly, Darius flicked his wrists, one after another, in rhythm with the music, and the long falls made contact with his wife’s panty clad backside. Doing the opposite of what Diamond herself had done on stage, Roxy had her face turned towards the audience, and smiled in relief with the first stroke hit. Darius upped the speed, and intensity, each flick of his wrist becoming stronger and more defined, until Roxy was squirming. Was it in agony or ecstasy? Diamond couldn’t tell.

  The crowd was completely silent, entranced by the rhythm of the tails as they fell against bare skin. It sounded like raindrops falling into a lake. Diamond loved the way the strands fell, splayed against Roxy’s backside, only to come together again as one as the flogger was lifted and poised for the next strike.

  Suddenly Darius stopped, turning to the crowd before announcing simply “Horizontal Florentine.”

  Then he backed up, six inches farther from where he had been before, and Diamond knew that the floggers would not touch Roxy’s skin if he flung them where he stood. What was he going to do? What was Horizontal Florentine? His shoulders came straight back, his arms bent flat against his sides and then extended at the elbows, straight out, a flogger still in each hand.

  Lady K actually bounced in her seat, tapping Diamonds shoulder with excitement. “Oh, honey, you’re going to love this!”

  She did love it. What followed was the single most arousing, enthralling thing Diamond had ever had the privilege of watching.

  Darius, began rotating his wrists in a way that had the tails of the flogger dancing through the air. The way he moved, and the strands moved in turn reminded her of the rhythmic gymnastics competitions she had watched on television as a child. She was even more entranced now than she had been back then. Each twirl of his hands brought them closer together, and closer to Roxy. The woman was smiling, watching over her shoulder, egging the audience on in their cheering as Darius and the strands got faster and closer to her rear with every flowing movement. Finally, they made contact, and the shock on Roxy’s face as the sharp tips of the suede strands made their impact would be forever ingrained in Diamond’s brain. She didn’t know whether she should be watching Darius’s wrists, or Roxy’s face, so she did both, her head ricocheting back and forth like a ping pong ball. Between the beautiful flowing ballad on the loudspeaker, the soft clap of the strands hitting flesh, and the soft cry of shock Roxy gave each time, it was like watching a beautiful opera of pain and pleasure. Every hair on Diamond’s arms stood on end as Darius moved again to stand behind Roxy, parallel to her side, now fully facing the audience.

  He tossed the floggers up in the air, and caught them in the opposite hand like one of the jugglers down on the strip. The difference was each time they landed, a quick flick of the wrist had the strands whipping down sideways across Roxy’s lower back, and then he would throw them again. Toss, cross, catch, flick. Toss, cross, catch, flick. Again and again, until light red welts began to shine across white flesh, highlighted and amplified under the spotlight, and Roxy was arching her back with each fresh blow, looking much like she was caught between shrieking in pain and moaning in pleasure.

  Finally, the music ended. Darius stopped his juggling show, focusing instead on completing the demonstration with a flurry of hard strokes, working his way up and down his wife’s back, from the tops of her thighs to the top of the slit in her gown. The only sound that could be heard in the club was the soft stinging slap of thin leather strips against hot flesh. Diamond herself found it hard to breathe, as the strokes fell hard and fast. The scene was so intensely beautiful that she swore she could feel the bite of each lash of leather. Her own body felt warm and tingly, as if she were about to float away.

  With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her chair, completely spent, torn between wishing it had been her up on stage, and thanking her lucky stars that it wasn’t. A flogging didn’t seem to have the intense and swift pain of a hard spanking, more like a slow building sting that blossomed over time to a dull burn.

  It had been the most erotic experience she had ever had, and she hadn’t even been the one experiencing it. Mentally adding being flogged to her spanking bucket list, Diamond slowly blinked, shaking herself from her dazed reverie as the lights came back on and Pax reappeared on sta
ge. She drank in the sight of him, wholly aroused from her vicarious flogging experience, and groaned when he thanked everyone for coming, reminding the crowd that they had another demonstration, this one a suspension bondage course, coming up at midnight. That meant she had at least three hours left of working the floor, when all she currently wanted to do was tackle Pax to the ground and jump his bones until they were both unable to move. For her, it wouldn’t take much at this point.

  Instead, she stood, slowly stretching, and willed her brain to wake, her eyes to focus and her feet to move. Any one of the three would be a vast improvement. She felt floaty and dead on her feet, and she hadn’t even done anything.

  She was thankful when Crystal suddenly materialized next to her, smiling knowingly. “Intense huh?” she asked, taking Di by the elbow, and guiding her to the bar, bidding goodbye to the mistresses over her shoulder.

  “You can say that again.”

  “Every time I see Sir Darius, I swear to myself that the next day I’m going to go out and buy a flogger. So far, I still haven’t.” Crystal shrugged flippantly. “Not that it really matters. I’d still have to find a man willing to wield it.”

  Nodding as if she understood, Diamond idly wondered if Pax had a flogger in his drawer of toys, and if he would ever get around to using it on her.

  “Anyway…” Crystal clapped her on the back, as she turned. “Back to work,” she tossed out over her shoulder as she turned in the direction of the Tanners with a huge grin on her face.

  Diamond glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Two hours and forty-seven minutes to go.

  * * *

  As soon as Diamond entered his suite at half past two in the morning, after a full shift, she stripped herself of her work clothes, leaving nothing but the symbolic collar, and knelt at his feet, in a pose of high protocol.

  “Very good,” he murmured appreciatively. “You’re getting better at this.” She didn’t respond, as he hadn’t asked her a question, just another thing he had been training her on in this regard.