The next room looked quite tame at first glance. Two stunning women with sleek ponytails sat on a burgundy brocade sofa. Wearing matching short spandex dresses, they sipped wine and talked in quiet, whispered tones. The thing that made the little scene less than normal was the naked man on his hands and knees before them. On his back rested a tray weighted down with a bowl of grapes and a bottle of wine. The man was sideways to the crowd and Ruby could see his rather impressive erection.
But he didn’t move at all. Staring straight ahead, he was like a statue. The women completely ignored him. To them, he was a piece of furniture.
Slap.
A shudder raced up her spine at the sound, the sound of a palm landing on someone’s ass. Turning, she followed the rhythmic noise.
Her stomach was in knots. Nerves twisted in her gut even as a little thrill kept her sex wet. She kept walking, following those magic sounds of slapping skin.
She saw a curvy blonde woman in a G-string kneeling over a simple red bench. Her ass was pink, and the cause of this was obvious. Behind her a tall, gray-haired man held a long-handled leather paddle. He wasn’t using it, though; he was using his other hand to spank her. His back was to the crowd, but she could read the experience in his authoritative stance.
He must be aware of the crowd, but he didn’t show it, instead focusing fully on the woman who knelt before him. He hit the lower part of her ass, her upper thighs. Each time his hand came down on her skin, the woman jerked and gasped, the flesh beneath her skin tensing.
Ruby’s pussy throbbed steadily as she watched him spank the woman one, two, three times, quickly, making Ruby recall the time when Mark had pulled her into the storage closet. The memory sent a jolt through her and she watched as the blonde woman clenched her hands together and tossed her head back. The look of pure euphoria on her face made Ruby’s sex go even hotter, and each time the woman cried out, each time the man slapped her skin, Ruby felt her own pussy clench.
The man eased up, taking the paddle and slowly tapping the blonde’s shoulder in light, rhythmic slaps. Ruby gasped; she could nearly feel the leather on her own skin. The man continued, trailing a rhythm across the woman’s upper back, slowly increasing pressure until she was visibly trembling.
The woman stuck her ass in the air, higher than before. She was begging for it. Begging to be hit with the paddle. Ruby knew exactly what the woman wanted. Ruby wanted it, too.
Just watching the scene before her took her there a little. She was already feeling that surrender, that need to escape. Ruby’s heartbeat went a little erratic, her breath caught. She watched as the man ceased the spanking and started gently stroking the woman’s back. She whispered something in his ear, and the man nodded. The woman looked over her shoulder and met Ruby’s gaze. Something passed between them, some kind of connection, as if the woman saw the longing Ruby was sure she couldn’t hide.
Then the man looked at her. She saw the authority in his eyes, in his demeanor. He reminded her of Mark in that way.
“Would you like to join us?” he asked.
Could she do this? Play with two strangers this way? Her palms were damp at the thought, and her heart raced. But then she looked back at the other woman and saw the euphoria in her eyes.
She wanted to feel that euphoria again. Needed to feel it.
But not like this. Not without Mark.
“I’m sorry…” She turned and pushed through the crowd.
The place was more crowded now, more noisy. She heard someone cry out, from pain or pleasure—probably both. Unfamiliar faces walked through the warehouse, gazing at the various displays of kink.
Her gaze fell on an older, slightly frumpy-looking couple passing by, clothed in nothing more than a few draping, clamoring chains.
She had to get out.
What had earlier seemed like a maze was now easily navigated if she just stayed around the perimeter. Her boots thudded on the floor as she ran toward the room where she’d last seen Meg. She found her, a long-handled flogger in her hand. Meg stood about four feet from a man with his arms chained above his head, waving the leather tails at his back with a flick of her wrist, as if she were a kinky Zorro. But Meg immediately caught her eye, put down the flogger, and a second later was at Ruby’s side.
“What’s wrong?” Meg asked.
“Can we just go?” Ruby begged.
“Yeah, of course, sweetie.” Meg retrieved their coats and, holding her hand, pushed through the front door. Fresh, moist air hit Ruby’s face, and she sucked in deep lungfuls of it.
Then the scent of smoke reached her. Rich, the manager, was watching her, and then, without a word, he stepped into the street and hailed a taxi. He held open the door and Ruby slid inside after Meg.