The Entertainer

Thank you for the positive responses and ratings to the first chapter. As always, I appreciate the feedback and the ratings.

A warning that I probably should have included in chapter 1: this story delves very quickly into some extreme fetish play. This chapter has play involving food, and watersports are coming down the line. Apologies if that disappoints people.

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Alexa Calloway is very brazen, almost the complete opposite of Rose in many ways. When she walks into the room, she seems to be bouncing. The joke to make would refer to parts of her anatomy bouncing as well, but her breasts are modest and held in place by a very fashionable sports bra, though it is tight enough that I can make out her nipples. Her athletic shorts are also tight enough that barely anything is left to the imagination; the material hugs her backside tightly and the swells and shapes of both cheeks are easy to follow, and a distinctive crease in the fabric between her legs suggests she either isn't wearing anything under the shorts, or the elastic pull is so strong it's pushing her panties up into her.

The clothes aren't just to show off her body either, at least based on how that body looks. Alexa is toned, with muscles visible in her arms, legs, and abs as she walks. She doesn't have creases and bulges like a bodybuilder, but it's clear she works out regularly and keeps her body fit and trim. Her dirty blonde hair (dyed if her eyebrows are a clue) is in a tight braid that stops just below her shoulder blades.

I meet with her at 1:00pm, suggested (or directed) again by Xander Talbot. The second of four interviews requested and required by Talbot to get a view into his world. He suggested Alexa next, and no one felt led to argue with him. I find myself willing to do the interview, but I wonder what I'm going to see that I haven't already. Rose's situation shocked me at first, then I came to see the appeal for her, and I understood the larger symbiosis it creates between dom and sub, master and slave. I wonder if there's much more for me to learn in that vein or if Talbot simply wants to try getting a rise out of the naïve journalist some more.

Alexa would be the type to do it. She reminds me of those girls in school who are the most aggressive. They ask the boys (or girls) out, they're the ones who want sex on the first date and will brag to their friends about it, and they wear labels like "slut" and "harpy" as badges of honor. The phrase "get on my level" seems made for girls like Alexa.

I feel like she would have straddled the chair backward for the interview except it was a high-back armchair, so it would have completely blocked our views. Instead she sits in it cross-legged, her knees resting on the armrests, daring me either to look or not to.

To my surprise, she begins with, "Just so you know, I have a hard stop at 2:30."

"Does Mr. Talbot need you for something?" I ask.

"No, I have a client I have to go meet," she replies.

A nonverbal duel starts right then. We both know because of her status and the atmosphere what assumption I'm supposed to make, and she's daring me to accuse her of being a prostitute. But I didn't get to be a lead anchor at the network just because I look pretty.

"So you do personal training?" I finally reply.

She smiles, her eyes telling me she's frustrated she couldn't trap me and impressed at the same time. "Yeah. I have to do all of them off-site, obviously, and I'm not connected to Master's name in any way. I built my own business, and it's still my own business. I have to be careful about what clients I take; I have a meeting with Master every time I take on someone new to make sure there's no conflict."

"Doesn't your control and ownership of the business interfere with your slave status?" I ask.

Alexa shrugs. "It's all because of legal bullshit. If Master had direct control over anything, there'd be no way to separate the business from him. People would find out, and it would be 'Xander Talbot's personal training service,' not mine. He still handles most of the administrative stuff, and my money goes into accounts that I don't touch, just like Rose and Sally."

Sally is Xander Talbot's third BDSM slave, whom I hadn't met yet.

"Isn't that...an unusual amount of freedom for a sex slave?" I ask.

"Not all sex slaves are like Rose and Sally," Alexa tells me, "I'm a free spirit. I'm high energy. An extrovert. I need people, I need excitement. That's what got me into trouble, actually. When I got to college it took me one semester to flunk out. My parents told me to come home to Missouri so they could find me a nice boy from my church and start making babies with him. My response to them was to send them a picture of me naked, smoking a joint while being fucked by a frat brother, flipping two birds at the camera. Four months later I was living in an apartment with six other people, drunk all the time, smoking some dangerous shit, and debating whether I wanted to start turning tricks or make a go at porn. I'm not equating those two, by the way, but the porn I had an 'in' for wasn't the mainstream stuff you find on Pornhub. This was back alley, 'if they don't like it, give them roofies until they can't say no' type shit."

"So how does a woman in that position end up with Xander Talbot?" I ask.

She shrugs again. "I'll admit; it was blind luck. I had a hookup at a major LA hotel, one of my girls worked at the desk. Master was staying at the hotel and something came up where he had to stay longer. He didn't want to skip his workout, but his trainer was back here, so he asked if the hotel could hook him up. My girl called me in."

"So do you see that as him saving you, or you just happened to fall into the hole he was in charge of?"

The question is sort of my comeback for trapping me with the potential prostitute angle from before, but Alexa either doesn't notice or doesn't want to play anymore.

"Look, this was not easy, for either of us. He...I don't care if you know what this means or if you misinterpret it, but he broke me. And I needed breaking. He broke me, and he still breaks me. I need someone to do that. Every time I think I've got it all together I do stupid shit. Master keeps me from that. I'd say he's like a daddy to me, and yeah, he's a daddy who fucks me, but I don't care if you want to twist that around like you did with poor Samantha."

At this point Alexa has tears in her eyes, and the heavy eyeliner she put on is beginning to run. I offer her a tissue and she dabs her eyes.

"I'd be so done talking to you if Master didn't tell me I have to do this," she says.

"So is that how your relationship is different? You don't actually want to be here, but he makes you, and you know it's good for you so you stay?"

"No, no that's not it. Master makes me wait. He makes me stop, and think, and be...he calls it 'intentional.' I was all 'ready, fire, aim' with my life. Now it's like I'm always ready but he's got his hand on the gun and the trigger. He aims me, and he tells me when to fire," she says.

"But when you fire a gun, there's kickback," I continue, sticking with her analogy.

"Oh yeah. But it's...I need that too. I need it to bring me back down. I don't know any other way to describe it. You'll see tonight. That's why he brought you here tonight, right? The party?"

I stop in shock, because I haven't heard anything about a party. I say as much to Alexa.

"Well I bet he wants you there. It'll...you'll get it. You'll see what I'm about. What it's all about. Now I gotta get ready for my client. Come on with."

The next couple of hours I spend with Alexa are the most mundane and ordinary of my experience so far. She goes to the client's house, and the client actually recognizes me. My cover story (which Alexa provided and said Talbot suggested) is that I'm doing a story on in-home vs in-gym personal training. I watch as they go through a typical workout and spend some time chatting with the client afterward. She spends a lot of time comparing and contrasting Alexa visiting her as opposed to her having to go to the gym. I ask some related questions trying to indicate subtly if the woman has any clue what her trainer's home life is like, but she seems oblivious. She was referred to Alexa by a friend, and Alexa tells me on the way back to Talbot's estate that most of her business comes via referral, though she does have a web site and contact information there.

Returning to the house, Alexa tells me I should go to the dining room. Xander Talbot intercepts me before I get there and leads me off into a sitting room where he has a selection of drinks for aperitifs. I make do with water; other than Alexa's outfit, the day so far has been totally BDSM and even sex-free, but I don't expect that to last and I want a clear head. Talbot talks to me about the news, expressing his opinions and soliciting mine on a few different current events the station has been covering lately.

Finally he tells me dinner is ready. I ask how he knows and he simply responds, "Dinner is at 5:00."

The casual confidence surprises me again, but given how I saw him treat Rose the other day I assume if dinner is not ready at 5:00 there is hell to pay for the people involved.

At the door to the dining room I finally meet Sally, though it would be more accurate to say I see Sally; we don't exchange even a single word. She is of Asian descent, probably Japanese, though her outfit is heavily biased that way so it may just be the aesthetic. Her hair is gathered in a bun at the top of her head and appears to be held in place with chopsticks or rods. Her clothing is a silky kimono style garment (I'm not enough of an expert to say if it's an actual kimono or not) tied at the waist, colored red with a lot of gold patterning on it.

Her body surprises me, though only because of my own biased and honestly racist expectations. The top of her kimono robe doesn't come completely together, and nearly the whole view up to her neck is the line of cleavage created by her breasts, which also push out quite far from her chest. She easily has the largest bust of any of the slaves. Her waist narrows impressively in spite of that, based on how her robe ties, and her hips flare out again creating an enticing hourglass shape.

To my shock I almost ask Talbot to have her strip. I don't know what Sally's role in the house is yet, but at that moment I don't care; I simply want to see her body, and I'm apparently already assuming such liberties are within my purview as a guest to ask for. I catch myself, but I also see Talbot watching me intently. If I didn't know better I'd say he knew exactly what I was thinking and was waiting for me to ask. Maybe even

wanted

me to ask. Sally is simply standing, head bowed, waiting. She could be anticipating the command like he was or just simply following a rule of not entering the dining room before her Master.

Based on Alexa's statements earlier, I had expected all of the salacious activities to be coming during the party. I had thought I was kept away from the house dinner before because it was a more intimate setting where the Master was freer in his interactions with his slaves, and they might have dropped the pretense a bit.

The only thing I got right was the word 'intimate'.

The table is round and smaller than I expected. I pictured a huge, long dining table that could seat 12 or more, but it would be a struggle to fit more than six around the table present. That wasn't the most shocking thing by far, however.

Alexa is completely naked, on top of the table, in an oversized round tray which must be custom designed. It has padding inside she lays on. Her legs are pulled back so her knees are next to her shoulders. She has her hands behind her head, her arms spread out and bent at the elbows, holding her legs back and down. A blindfold covers her eyes and the top of her nose. Every private part of her is fully visible, or would be if not for the additions.

Her nipples and part of her breasts are covered by the green paste of guacamole. The bottoms of her feet, which face upward because of her position, are covered with yellow mustard, and the hollows behind her knees have white goo in them which I find out is blue cheese dressing. Her stomach has a pile of salsa on it, and her vagina has brown syrup around and leaking out of it, dripping down past the rosebud of her ass.

In front of each place setting is a breast of grilled chicken, a flat pita, and several celery sticks. Talbot motions for me to sit next to him. I do, though I'm hesitant. Despite what I've seen and experienced so far, I have it in my head that I haven't actually participated in anything yet. The spanking of Rose somehow didn't count; I'd been ordered to do that by Talbot, is my thinking, therefore I don't have any culpability. But if I sit down at the table and eat the way he wants me to, I'll be fully involved, treating Alexa as a slave, willingly.

I sit down.

I cut into the chicken with great focus, trying to avoid looking up, but Alexa's body is in arm's reach, without even stretching. Obviously it is meant to be easy to reach the various condiments and ingredients on her body.

Talbot wastes no time in slicing his chicken fine, then uses a celery stick to spoon ingredients from Alexa's body. Alexa stays still for it, but the piles are deep enough that I don't think he actually touches her body. Once Talbot makes most of a wrap, Rose and Sally begin sampling. Their celery sticks do touch her body and I see small flinches in Alexa's toned muscles. Finally I take a stick and followed their lead.

I scoop the guac first and hear Alexa's first gasp. Looking afterward, I see the dark brown nub of her nipple through the green paste.

As dinner continues there are more gasps and shivers from her. It's only after I think about it that I realize all of the condiments sat on her erogenous zones.

By the time all of us finish with our chicken, Alexa's breasts heave and her muscles tense with all the stimulation we inflicted on her. Green lines and swirls of guac paint her breast, salsa covers her everywhere from below her breasts to her waist, and most of the mustard and cream are gone from her feet and knees.

No one had done anything with Alexa's pussy. I had considered asking, but I was already in the habit of following Talbot's lead without question. I wonder if that is the point, and he's secretly grooming me to be one of his slaves.

I watch as he takes one of his remaining celery sticks and slides it into her. Her flinching and tensing is extreme, but she doesn't make a noise that isn't breathing. Talbot pulls the stick out slowly, and I can tell he's dragging it along the roof of her vagina. Maybe he's doing it to stimulate her more, but it also could be to just keep more of the syrup on. Either way, the way Alexa's muscles quiver suggest she doesn't care why Talbot is doing it, she just knows it's driving her insane with stimulation.

"Have a treat, my dear; it's quite sweet," Talbot says to me.

Like before, it seems like Talbot can read my mind. His voice and tone are even and unimposing, but his expression and especially his eyes are expectant and almost teasing, as if he somehow knows he's asking me to cross a major threshold.

It's now that I must confess something to you all. I misled you in my last article. While one of my relationships was with a girl, it was a shorter one. We kissed, and petted, and rubbed each other. Then one night she went down on me. I was so tense I cramped up when I had an orgasm. I was so nervous and embarrassed that I never let her try again, and there was no way I could muster the nerve to return the favor. My one consciously lesbian relationship died shortly thereafter.

The point being, I never tasted another girl's pussy. I've barely tasted my own. One of my boyfriends from years ago had a fetish or obsession with coming in my mouth, to the point where I had to go through an ordeal to get him to have actual sex with me, and he would only agree if he got to pull out and I would let him get off in my mouth. On those occasions I could taste a bit of myself on him, but it wasn't much and his cum overwhelmed any other flavors quickly.

Again it seems like I lose time. Suddenly I find myself sitting with a celery stick coated in brown syrup. I can't see any other juices on it, but unless everything we've done to Alexa is somehow torture, I know there have to be. I take a deep breath and bite down.

The syrup is chocolate, but I can tell immediately it's sugar-free (thank you to my editor who assigned me to visit and cover the "Diabetes Dessert fest" event two years ago). The celery adds nothing but texture next to the syrup's flavor. And just beneath it is the tiny hint of spice and tanginess that I vaguely remember from sex with my old boyfriend.

Each of us has three celery sticks and we dip them into Alexa's slit to serve as our dessert. Talbot makes each of his successive samples slower and deeper. He pushes his last stick in so far that he holds it only by the tip with his thumb and forefinger. When he bends his fingers to pull it out Alexa moans, and I see the knuckle of his thumb has brushed her clit.

My earlier hesitancy is gone at this point because I follow his lead, nearly losing my last stick in her quim. I also can't fool myself anymore; less than half the liquid on that stick when I pull it out is chocolate sauce. I also can't ignore that the source of the flavor and the actual taste is making me feel very naughty.

"Sally, clean the table," Talbot says.

I'd noticed Sally wasn't eating as much, and now I knew why. The Asian girl immediately attacks Alexa's feet with her tongue and lips, licking and sucking all of the remaining mustard off. The process also involves sucking on Alexa's toes, and she looks like she gives each one a small, short blowjob in the process. By the time she moves to Alexa's knees, the girl on the table is quivering, her guacamole-covered breasts jiggling from the vibrations of her tense muscles. She moves her head around a lot too, pressing it back and shaking side to side.

Sally climbs on the table to get at Alexa's stomach. Once there she starts at the woman's navel with her mouth. I'm impressed by her control as she has very little table space to kneel on. I'm also frustrated again; I admit I hoped that her robe would hang down and show me some of her body, but it remains tightly wrapped, still only showing her impressive cleavage.

I can't ignore the fact that the show is affecting me, too. I squirm in my seat and I feel heat and moisture between my legs, as well as pressure in my chest from my hardened nipples. I look jealously at Sally's activities and find myself wishing for similar attention, though I sense that even if I ask for it, Sally won't obey my wishes over her Master's. Out of the corner of my eye I see a bulge in Talbot's pants indicating the show is affecting him too.

Sally reaches the outer edges of the salsa remnants, just below Alexa's breasts and just above her pelvis. Alexa is practically doing crunches now, either to increase or get away from the stimulation of Sally's mouth.

Anticipating Sally's next target, I ask Talbot, "Can she reach orgasm from breast play?"

"No," Talbot says.

"Even as worked up as she is?" I press.

"I forbade her," Talbot explains.

Suddenly the scene takes on a whole new meaning for me. Alexa isn't straining to get the slow, subtle stimulation to push her over the edge; she's desperately trying to resist it making her cum. She's been forced to endure an hour of us attacking her erogenous zones with our food and Sally's tongue but cannot allow the feelings to reach their logical, possibly inevitable conclusion.

Sally moves her mouth up toward Alexa's left breast. That is when Alexa breaks, just a bit.