As the taxi ground to a halt at the traffic lights, the driver turned to face us.
"Going anywhere special tonight?"
"Oh, nothing fancy," Conrad grinned at me. "Just meeting friends for a few drinks. That's all."
I smiled back at him, thinking of the driver's reaction if Conrad had been less coy about our plans. I'm certain the quality of the vehicle's airbags would've been tested had he revealed the true nature of our evening.
"Well, it doesn't look like that to me," the driver replied as the lights turned green. "You're both dressed to the hilt." He eyed me in the mirror. "She looks absolutely stunning."
"Oh, I know, she's gorgeous," Conrad squeezed my thigh. "We like to make a good impression, don't we, dear?"
"We do indeed," I replied confidently. Making a good impression understated how Conrad had treated me so far today.
After dumping my bags at his apartment that morning, he hailed a cab and took me shopping in some of the most exclusive boutiques in Knightsbridge. This new world of luxury felt completely alien to me. However, to my surprise, Conrad looked totally at ease sifting through racks of designer clothing.
First, we shopped for a new dress. Although I was allowed to look myself, Conrad quickly picked out three outfits for me to try on.
"Sir, this is tighter than what I'd normally wear," I protested after modelling the first of his choices.
He stepped closer towards me, emphasising the height difference between us.
"Maybe that's what I want, Miss James," he said sternly. "Remember, you're dressing to please me. Not you or anyone else."
There were no illusions as to who was in charge, but I didn't mind that. I had to admit, I loved how sexy I felt in the sleek, blue Louis Viton dress he decided on.
Next, we looked for shoes. Again, Conrad took the lead. It turned out that his love for high heels equaled even the most ardent of shoe lovers.
"How do you expect me to walk in these for an entire evening, Sir?" I said, I staggering across the shop floor in one of the pairs he'd picked out.
"If you want to please me then you'll learn to manage, Miss James," he replied bluntly.
And learn to manage I did. My desire to please him won out again, or at the very least, my survival instinct properly kicked in. After a few minutes of practice, I did feel a lot more comfortable in the open toed pair he picked out for me, despite them adding a solid four inches to my height.
"I like to think that one day you'll be modelling those for me nude, Miss James," he muttered in my ear as we left the shop, causing my heart to momentarily stop.
We stopped for lunch at a lovely little Greek restaurant. I plumped for a feta salad, and just after the food came out, Conrad unveiled a sheet of paper.
"A checklist for you to fill in, Miss James," he said.
"A what, Sir?"
"A checklist. Do you remember our discussions about a contract between dominant and submissive? Well this will help me put something together."
The checklist included every fetish and kink conceivable; many familiar to me from my own extra curricular research, but also many new acts that sounded vulgar. It required me to tick a box next to each activity indicating my willingness to partake in it. I felt like I bared a little more of my soul with each cross on the paper.
Our outing finished at an incredibly high end salon. First, Conrad treated me to a full manicure and pedicure, picking out a gorgeous shade of electric blue for my nails that matched my dress. As soon as my nails had dried, he announced he'd also booked me in for a Hollywood wax. Now, when they say they go everywhere, they're not bullshitting. Again, my desire to please Conrad overwhelmed the terror I felt. My god did it hurt though. Once the pain soothed though, I couldn't deny that I loved the feeling of my new, super smooth mound.
"Well, here we are," the driver announced as he pulled up. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. Whatever you're up to."
We stepped out of the taxi and Conrad gripped my hand.
"How are you feeling?"
"Good, thank you, Sir," I replied, smiling. "It's amazing how different my emotions are to the first party."
"It's funny you should mention that, Miss James," he replied. "I feel very different too. Instead of spending the evening alone, I get to enjoy the company of someone who is incredibly special to me."
We grinned at each other, before stepping onto the front porch of a large North London townhouse. The drawn curtains left no clue as to the debauchery transpiring inside. Conrad rang the doorbell, and as we waited, my heart began to thump. This time, not due to nerves though, but down to the anticipation of what lay ahead.
A minute or so passed, before I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on laminate flooring. When the door swung open, we were greeted by a face that evoked powerful memories of my first Velvet Thorn party.
"Mister Pierce," Natalia smiled, greeting us in her sultry, eastern European accent. "I thought I might be seeing you tonight. I see you've brought a friend along as well."
Her smile broadened as her eyes rolled over me. She clearly felt no awkwardness surrounding the circumstances of our first meeting. Just like that night, she was the very definition of elegance and style, like she drank the elixir of sexiness every night before going to sleep. Tonight, she'd tied back her dark hair in a ponytail that bobbed between her shoulder blades. She wore a dark, strapless dress that highlighted a bust any woman would kill for, while also leaving plenty of room for her seemingly never ending legs to flow.
"It's lovely to see you again, Natalia. Thank you for inviting us." Conrad gave her a peck on the cheek as we entered the hallway. "This is Carla James. You were never formally introduced before, but I'm sure you remember her."
"Ah yes," she grinned, looking me up and down again. "How could I possibly forget? It's lovely to see you again, Carla."
I trembled like a tree in a storm as we exchanged kisses. Her touch felt so warm. I saw why Suzanne felt so at ease with her.
"Don't look so scared, dear." She rolled her hands over my shoulders. "I promise I won't bite. Why don't you both take a glass of champagne and head into the living room. I'm sure tonight's entertainment will be to both of yours taste."
Conrad took hold of my hand again, and I began to regain my composure. However, I almost dropped my champagne flute as the scene playing out in the living room came into view.
The large square room's cream walls made it feel even more spacious. The hubbub of polite conversation filled the room, with guests either sat on the dark leather sofas lying square to each of the four walls, or stood on the periphery. The impeccable attire of those present matched the first party I'd attended. Men were adorned in shirts and jackets, while the women wore equally lavish dresses. As before, certain members displayed an array of collars and cuffs.
However, the scene at the centre of the room drew my eyes like a moth to a flame. Nothing could've prepared me for the scene at play. The fact my best friend took centre stage only added to my shock.
It was Suzanne alright. Make no mistake about it. The same petite frame I'd cast eyes over at the first party was now presented for all to see in the centre of the room. Her wrists were bound above her head with rope attached to a hook in the ceiling, while her ankles were separated by a metal spreader bar. A blindfold obscured her vision, meaning only her ears gave clues as to the people were around her.
I stared for so long, mesmerised by the eroticism of the situation, that I didn't notice Conrad leave my side. Only a firm hand on my shoulder shook me from my trance.
"So, you're back again." I flipped around. "It looks like we did enough to stimulate your interest last time, then."
It was Kirsten - another face from the first party who I'd not forget any time soon. Tonight, her golden hair flowed free, while her supple, tanned body was poured into a glamorous sequined black gown.
"Yes it was, thanks." I found it difficult to hide the awkwardness in my voice. Kirsten had invited Suzanne and I to the first party. How would Suzanne, who worked for Kirsten as a nanny, feel, knowing her employer was enjoying her naked body?
"Well, I'm glad to see you've been reeled in," she replied. "Although it looks as though your friend has dived into the deep end a little quicker than you have." She looked across at the brunette, smiling. "She doesn't have many inhibitions, does she?"
"That sums up Suze pretty well," I smirked. "I've tried things too though. I just haven't gone this far, yet."
"I don't blame you in the slightest for that, dear. One should never stray from their comfort zone too quickly." She paused for a second, still eyeing up my best friend. "She really does have a gorgeous body, doesn't she?"
I followed Kirsten's glance. I'd never thought of Suzanne in such a way. Her predicament made her so exposed and vulnerable, yet breathtaking to behold. With every breath, her chest visibly heaved up and down. I could barely begin to imagine the thoughts circling her head.
"Her nipples," I stammered. "They're so hard. Has she been like this all evening?"
"Exactly like this," said Kirsten. "A perfect piece of art for us all to enjoy. Just think how much of a thrill it must be for her, exposed in such a way. All she can hear is voices. She has no idea who's around her. The rush must be incredible."
I knew she was right. If it was a thrill to give myself to Conrad in private, then I couldn't imagine how it would feel to do the same thing with a room of strangers.
Kirsten went on, "I just wish I'd realised what a little submissive slut she was before I'd invited her to a party. My husband and I would've loved to play with her. You never know, perhaps we could've had you as well."
Her comment caught me completely off guard, and I flushed red. Was I the only person here too afraid to admit how depraved they were?
"Sorry, dear," Kirsten said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you like that. You have to admit the whole experience must be incredible for her though."
I looked over to Suzanne and noticed her wrists fidgeting against their bonds.
"I'm sure it is."
"To be surrounded by so many people, yet not have a single finger laid upon her, must be torture, wouldn't you agree? I bet her body's aching for even the slightest touch."
"It must be like heaven and hell, all at the same time," I muttered.
"Exactly, dear. Don't you think we should relieve some of her frustrations?"
"What do you mean?"
Kirsten smiled. "I think we should let her know that we appreciate what she's given us tonight."
