Damian Ch 09 Party Time Landf

09) PARTY TIME

(party at the Lost and Found)

​ The one where Damian goes back to the Fetish club where the end began.

Damian and Cassie, his neo-dominatrix wife from whom he's separated, are still trying to see if they can make their relationship work again after both of their betrayals of each other. Cassie has pushed him and her submissive lover, Cynthia, into forming their own relationship and it turns out that Damian gives Cynthia something Cassie cannot, but Cassie doesn't know that yet. Cynthia has begged Damian to fix his relationship with Cassie.

NOTE: this chapter is being published concurrent with the "Midnight at the lost and Found" story event

<

https://forum.literotica.com/threads/official-support-thread-for-midnight-at-the-lost-and-found-story-event.1583716/

>.

Since it's an alternate universe, it may not follow all the rules, but it follows the rules of this universe...

It is bright outside, but the lighting in here is subdued... and one of the fluorescent lights above is stuttering. The three of us are shopping happily.

The ladies have invited me to the Lost and Found grand closing blowout party tonight. It's something about an Alice in Wonderland theme. They are helping me pick out a costume to wear and we've come to the local adult supplies store where we're rummaging the leatherwear section.

Cass is really at a loss.

"How about something Cheshire Cat?"

She finds a hood with cat ears, but frets that it makes me look "bottom." Cynthia and I smile at each other behind her back, since we know I'm not nearly as bothered, now, as she's afraid I am. I shrug, then disappear for a couple minutes.

Cass realizes I'm, gone and panics to find me, eventually meeting me in the pornographic DVD section as I return with something behind my back.

Surrounded by porn. How romantic is that?

"Cassie, I have a gift I'm buying you..."

She looks at me curiously.

I show her a collar and leash.

She's temporarily surprised and looks at me confused.

"Who is this for? Me or you?"

I smile and shrug "Your choice."

Over Cass' shoulder, I see Cynthia beside herself with delight as she watches this unfold. I've chosen this moment to come out to Cass.

Who looks very confused.

I lean over her shoulder and whisper in her ear, so Cynthia can hear "you're not the only one who's developed a few kinks and skills, young lady."

Cynthia smiles, considers and leans over the other ear from behind Cass "and I'll attest that he's very good at it."

Realization dawns on Cassie as I see her slowly grin from ear-to ear.... I fantasize that her face will disappear leaving only the grin as she processes.

"Okay. Got it...

She thinks, then goes on... "Tonight, I think this collar is for you. It will be safer, since you don't know the scene... and I'm already known as Mistress Grace there. It would be upsetting to see any reversals... we want tonight to go smoothly."

Cynthia... Mistress Syn... excuses herself after kissing both of us because she has a "lot to do" before the party. I can tell she's super pleased with how this just went down.

Among the porn DVDs.

And then Cassie... no, Mistress Grace... looks at me, smiles and shakes her head, then giggles and pulls me back to the leatherwear. The decision is now easy for her. She selects the black leather cat hood/mask and a white leather two-piece catsuit (with tail). Happily, they have my size (remarkable luck, since they weren't well-stocked). She shyly, tentatively puts the collar on me.

Then more boldly, she attaches the leash. She smiles wickedly and tugs, suddenly dragging me by the leash through the checkout. When checking out, we chat with the cashier there, who mentions they've had a huge demand for fetish wear because of the Lost and Found party tonight. She's absolutely indifferent at Cassie dragging me around with a leash and collar, but makes sure to put them on the bill too.

Cass then leads me to the car and on to the crafts store. There, she giddily pulls me by the leash to the paint section. She gets a bunch of leather stain paints and we check out. The leash and collar are getting a lot of curious stares, but we don't care. Then we go back to our house... um... Cass's house (ouch) and start painting the mask and catsuit to match each other and the traditional Cheshire cat striped colors. She even manages to paint a perfect huge grin on the mask.

Of course, the boys are with Cass' parents this weekend: she needed the flexibility because of the party.

She kisses me, then gets serious and looks in my eyes.

"Thank you, Damian Hayes. Thank you for everything."

"Thank you, Cassie... W... Wilkins."

She looks mock-angry.

"Cassie Hayes to you. Wilkins was my maiden name, sir."

That feels good. She hasn't given up yet. I won't either.

--

We separate; apparently, Cass has some responsibilities to help set up the Lost and Found. I offer to help and she smiles and says she wants it to be a surprise for me too.

So I go 'home' to my apartment that afternoon, nervous, but really titillated.

When evening comes, I try to slide into the catsuit. It seemed so much easier at the store when Cassie was there to help me, but I'm all alone now. Breathlessly trying to get my leg in, despite the constrictive chest piece around my torso, I briefly consider asking that redhead MILF next door for help. Then I laugh at how absurd that thought was.

...Or was it...?

No! Stop! I put that idea out of my mind. If this is going to happen, I'm going to be monogamous

right

this time. Or... di-ogamaous? Or tri-ogamous? What's the word? Is there one?

I'll make it work if we can heal to that point, damn it!

I am actually excited!

Then it strikes me. I'm going to the Lost and Found. This is big. This is the place that ended me. And it's the end of the place that ended me. And in a way... it's the place where my reboot was begun. So, what's tonight? The end of the place that ended me? The beginning of my new ending?

Then I am terrified. What if 'Mistress Grace' turned up in that leather suit she was wearing that horrible night?

I could still end it then.

Damn. I still have the key to plan 'B.'

No. She wouldn't do that to me.

Would she?

Trust, Damian.

There. Finished struggling into my leather constrictive torture device. I go to the mirror and, hey! I look good. Man, am I sweaty inside, but... I look good!

I take an Uber. Cassie said parking would be a problem and there are no pockets for keys in the catsuit anyway. She promised she'd take me home. I get there just at opening at 8:30 and there is already a lengthy line.

The entry is in the alley and decked out like Alice's looking glass. Clever. Tony - the doorman - knows to look for me and let me in. But he stops me on my way by, smiles and hugs me in that manly 'I am going to squeeze so hard it hurts, just to prove I'm not gay, but don't brush my penis' way and winks.

"You're the luckiest man alive."

"Th...thanks...?"

I guess Cassie told him more than I'd expected.

I go inside and the people are still readying everything. Cynthia - sorry, Mistress Syn - sees me, comes and hugs me and gives me a big kiss. Then she giggles endearingly; I love her giggle! I've never heard it before.

She whispers in my ear, "I told her

everything

and she was really, really happy." She means that she told Cassie about our scene, where I was Cynthia's dominant and where she submitted and atoned for what she'd done to me.

Mistress Syn is dressed as the insane Queen of Hearts. She must've spent a fortune on the custom costume, a mixture of Lewis Carroll and a batman-inspired leather corset. She has a tiny crown canted at an angle on her head. I compliment her on the outfit... and the way it makes her look.

She smiles at me demurely, then suddenly distracted, shouts over her shoulder, "Five more minutes, people!"

Then Ca... Mistress Grace appears. She is wearing an outfit that's more like a nod to the Mad Hatter than exactly a costume. It's a brown and white suede catsuit with a leather bustier pressing up and shaping her breasts into an exaggerated, provocative display. She's wearing a tiny replica of the Mad Hatter's hat at an angle on her head, like Syn's crown, and she's carrying a round purse with a timepiece painted on the side as if it were a giant pocket watch. The purse is attached to chains that go over her shoulder and around her chest like a sexy halter. She is the vision of dominatrix perfection. She rushes over to me and kisses me deeply.

I take her in and sigh. "My god, C... Mistress Grace - you are... my god. Wow..."

I laugh to myself at the irony of a psychiatrist playing the

Mad

Hatter.

She smiles and almost dances as she makes a turn for me... there's a bunny tail on the costume, but I assume she skipped the ears because she wasn't going for the Playboy bunny look. No, I'm wrong - there are tiny ears attached to the tiny hat.

She looks down my body and says, "I think I like you in leather," then rubs her hand idly across my chest with a lost, distracted look on her face.

She comes back to herself and takes my hand, leading me to a table with a pretty young woman dressed as a mouse. There are two bowls of candy - one with red capsules and one with blue capsules. The colors are too brilliant to be actual pills, but the message is clear: this could be a life-changing experience.

And there's an array of wrist bands in boxes.

She looks at me meaningfully and says "a wristband that's red means you're taken and not available to play. Yellow means you'll play only if you're permitted by your domme. Green means free use... you're open to anything." She stops and looks at me... I'm being given the choice. She still doesn't know if she knows me.

I look at her wrist. Blue?

But my choice is already made. It was made sixteen years ago. I put on the red band.

She smiles. That was the right answer.

She makes me kneel. She puts the collar on me with immense ceremony. "This signifies that you are mine. And

only

mine... or... ours. Or something." She snickers. She hooks a leash to my collar again and leads me back to the 'pills' on the table.

This is it - my final choice. Either I follow this all the way down the rabbit hole, or go back to a normal life.

I inhale and trustingly, I pop a red one in my mouth. And I'm confirmed to taste that it's just cinnamon. Then she smiles again and commands "come!" dragging me further in as the first party goers also arrive.

The place is spectacular. I would not have recognized it from... from that night. There are giant cups, saucers, jewelry boxes, furniture and paraphernalia of all sizes hanging from strings on the ceiling. And a giant table in the middle of the room with curious, bulky legs and covered with erotic party favors and refreshments. The refreshments include hors d'oeuvres presented on two naked bodies. Mistress Syn has assumed her seat on a throne in the far corner, flanked by... giant playing cards? As I look more closely, though, I realize they are actually vacu-sealed naked people - one male, one female, in vacu-frames painted like playing cards.

In another corner - again hard to process what I'm seeing - is a giant toadstool and... how the hell did they do that? It's a centipede, but composed of naked human torsos, arms and legs. For a brief moment, I flash to a horror movie but this isn't that at all... I'm drawn to it and Mistress Grace dutifully takes me over to absorb it.

Somehow, they've created sort-of a curved staircase atop the mushroom with seats for each person to sit on. Each stair has an indentation in the center, so the occupant doesn't have to take the full weight of the person above, and each person is linked - sexually - into the person above. males with their actual cocks, women with strap-ons and each layer stuck in one or the other of the holes of the person above.

Already, the centipede is writhing and groaning from multiple voices; and the topmost person is happily playing her part by smoking a hookah between moans, her ass impaled by a cock and her pussy splayed open along with her legs: I see some of her juices already dripping down.

"Tom's a genius."

I look at her... "Tom" must've been the person who figured out how to do this.

Then I realize there is a line forming behind a rope. As soon as this scene is over; as soon as the whole centipede is satisfied, more people want to try to be part of the next centipede...

"One detail, I bet you missed..." She takes me back to the table and points out the massive legs. I realize that they're painted fiberglass in the shape of people... the two I can see are a crouching female with her mouth open at cock height and another leg in a form of a person of unknown gender with its ass sticking up, its knees bent severely as in pet-play bondage, and its head on the floor.

I watch as a man walks up to the female figure and impales himself down the throat. And it moves.

"There's a person in there!"

"Yes, a very denied, horny, repressed, person."

And someone else leans down and starts licking the ass of the other 'table leg.' I think he plans to fuck it. I see the lines forming for these legs and for the legs on the other end of the table too.

And I look at Cassie... Mistress Grace... and she looks at me.

"Is it always this crazy?"

"No, absolutely not. This is the last night. Fuck the rules. Fuck the laws. This is our Bacchanalia - the last night ever. All stops are out because this can never happen here again."

I look at her wrist. "What does blue mean?"

"It means I'm a supervisor tonight. But Syn has given me the night off instead."

"Oh, do you work here?"

"No, not really. Sometimes I help. I

was

going to work tonight, but... everything has changed." She stops and suddenly looks oddly fearful. A look of trepidation paints her beautiful face. I realize there's a lot more to this evening for us than just play.

I know that look. She wants to say something that's difficult for her.

She inhales heavily and gets a determined expression. "Follow." She takes me by the leash upstairs into a private room. It's a mini-dungeon with only a whipping bench and instruments of pain on the wall. She closes the curtain and flips a switch - maybe that's the "occupied" indicator - and turns to me. She makes me kneel.

"Damian Patrick Hayes.

"I love you.

"I have not forgiven you.

"We all have demons.

"You have exorcized Mistress Syn's. For that, I am eternally grateful.

"You have also proven that you are a new man. I loved the old Damian. The new me can

really

love the new Damian. You never cease to amaze me. You have always been a bit awkward... reserved... overbearing at times. Obnoxiously macho. Stubborn as hell. But you are also all those wonderful, wonderful things I keep saying about you.

"And now I learn that you are so much more. You amaze me.

"But you and I... we still have demons. I have not forgiven you. You have not forgiven me. We need to exorcize them.

I

need to exorcize them."

That look again... she's at the part it's hard for her to say...

"So here's what I propose. I propose a cleansing.

"Tonight. Here. I get to take you. I get to use and punish you. I get to... to release my demons and put my anger behind me.

"Later, I give you the same license. Do with me whatever you will. I deserve it. My god, I deserve anything you choose to do to me. Anything, Damian. Just leave your anger behind. Please, Damian... please, in turn, leave your hurt behind.

"Tonight is mine. Later is for you."

I hear her throat tensing.

"I know you, Damian. I know that you are truly empathetic; I know you hurt for what you did to me. Even tonight, by releasing me of my demons, you will conquer a few of your own."

She was tearing up now. This is very emotional for her. Good - that means it's also very real.

"Do you accept my proposal?"

Slowly, I nod.

She takes another deep breath, and wipes her eyes. She doesn't look happy or excited. Rather, she looks reserved and determined. I get an enigmatic look from her, then she gathers herself, goes to the wall and selects a cane.

Oh god... did it have to be a cane?

"Strip."

I awkwardly start to get out of this damn, sweaty costume. "I don't think I'll be able to get it back on tonight, Mistress Grace..."

She steps into a strap-on harness, tightens it, then just stands there, looking stern. With a 6-inch purple cock.

Mistress Syn pops around the curtains. "Did he accept?"

They look at each other, and then to me, finishing getting naked on the floor now and a little breathless from wrestling with the leather.

I'm not paying much attention to them, just to my thoughts. Ohhh.... Not the cane.

After I get undressed, Cass indicates the whipping bench and I falter a bit, but eventually crawl on like a puppy who knows he's going to be punished. The last change I get to see her, I see her face, worry lines on her forehead and her lower lip pulled into her mouth behind her upper teeth.

There are padded little shelves on it to put my knees and elbows on. Cynthia... Mistress Syn... cuffs me into the contraption. I'm bent over and truly unable to move.

Mistress Grace comes behind me and starts tracing her fingers over the receding red lines on my ass from Tara's demo session a few days ago. They're mostly gone, but there are small lines still showing the healing, especially at the edges of some of the strike zones. I can see them, still, on the fronts of my thighs, so I'm sure they're all over my backside.

"WHAT have you been up to, Mr. Hayes?" she asks rhetorically, her fingers lingering on my marks.

She steels herself. I hear her inhale deeply.

"Your safe word is 'bananas.'"

She knows I hate bananas.

I resolve, then and there, not to use it. This is what Cassie needs. This will put her anger behind us. She can beat me to death and I won't use it. I'm going to show her how brave I can be for her. I will give her everything. Everything.

Then I learn why Syn is there; they are whispering in the corner and she's reviewing instructions with Grace. She doesn't know how good my hearing is so I don't think she knows that I'm listening. But it appears... I don't think Cassie has done this before!

That shocks me. I still have visions of Cassie having gone completely over the edge: cracking her whips and dealing out infinite pain while towering over and participating in frenzied orgies of undulating body parts that are fucking her constantly. But Syn said she hasn't had another man - I think - since Harvey. And that Cassie can't give her what she needs. Maybe their lives have not been... not been like that at all.

I feel the cane lining up on my butt.

"Fuck you, Damian."

And SWACK! She hits me. It hurts, but I've had worse.

I won't make this hard on her. I won't scream.

Syn whispers "harder."

"You hurt me, Damian."

SWACK! Harder yet. Owwww...

I hate this.

Anne said that a domme must never use corporal punishment in anger. This is a playact, right? Syn and Cass have to know that!

"Do you know how it felt!?!? Do you really KNOW, Damian?"

WHACK, WHACK! I tense... those really hurt badly, but I won't make a noise.

I'm doing this for Cassie...

"It was awful. Listening to you fuck her! Awful! Seeing my whole life crumble! Knowing it was supposed to be me in the bed!"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "Why isn't he fucking screaming?"

I'm being brave for you, Cassie... I know you don't really want to hurt me.

"You fucking ruined it! You ruined everything. I was so hurt... I was vulnerable to YOU, Damian. But you didn't see me, you bastard!" She's crying now.