I unfastened her cuffs and she spun around, reaching for me. I guided her up from the bench and she fell to her knees instinctively, hands aiming for my belt buckle. I let her find it, gazing down at the long dark tangle of her hair. It hung down around her naked shoulders, coiled into damp tails. It reminded me of something. My dick jumped inside my jeans.
Dark, wet hair. Green eyes. So fucking green. Tears, lots of tears. Beautiful pain.
Lydia Marsh.
I reached for the woman on her knees, stroking down her hair and pulling her closer. Yes. Her palm against my cock through the fabric, rubbing me. Her mouth already open, wanting.
Green eyes. Tears. Perfect tears.
I raised her blindfold, staring down at her through a haze of lust. Desire pulsed through me, tickling my skin.
But Cara’s eyes were brown.
It knocked the wind right out of my sails. I recoiled before I could stop, jolted from the fantasy.
Cara kept her eyes on mine, a hungry smile on her face. Her fingers freed my belt, but it was too late. I took her hands in mine.
“I need a drink, Cara, thank you.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“Thank you, Cara.”
She looked disappointed, but it was no good. My mood was broken. I lifted her to her feet and kissed her knuckles before we left the room. She leant into my side en route back to the bar, her naked flesh burning into my chest. It felt good, but it was over for me.
A small crowd retreated from the windows, show over. One of the men patted my shoulder.
“Good scene, Masque.”
I smiled back at him. “Yes, it was.”
***
The bar was quiet when we returned, everyone’s attention fully engaged by the main floor. A couple I recognised, Diva and Cain, were getting down and dirty with a reel of bondage tape and a couple of floggers. I flashed a smile but walked on by, leading Cara by the hand to deliver her into the arms of another club regular. Raven, Mistress Raven, to the general club populous, also known as Rebecca ‘Bex’ Hayfield, but only to me. A real life friend. One of my only real life friends, in fact.
I watched Raven’s mouth spread into a sly grin as we approached, her kohl-rimmed eyes sparkling. She’d gone for a particularly severe look this evening; blue-black hair twisted tight into a high-pony, topping off a skin-slick latex number which ended just shy of her ass. Thigh-high boots finished the look. She air-kissed me twice to save her lipstick, then turned her attention to the naked woman at my side.
Cara twirled on instruction and Raven nodded her approval.
“Nice and rosy, just how we like it. Good job, Masque.” She slapped Cara’s ass for good measure, then pulled her in close, roving her tongue up naked flesh to nip at Cara’s neck. The obliging sub continued her spin, presenting her cute little tits to Raven’s gaze; perfect white skin with sweet peachy nipples. “What’s this?” Raven asked, raising an eyebrow. “No marks?” She tutted loudly, giving me the eye. “These gorgeous little titties were made for pain, Cara. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Cara’s silky-soft voice made me hard again, and I glanced away to watch Diva taking a fairly decent flogging.
“Are you going to finish the job?” Raven asked, pushing her ward in my direction. Cara squeezed her tits together and held them high for me, smiling in invitation.
“I thought I’d leave them for you, Raven. I know how wet you get over nipple torture.”
“So thoughtful,” she grinned. “Playroom three, Cara, now. Don’t you dare touch yourself.”
Cara tottered off without hesitation, and I watched her tight little curves sashay away. I turned back to find Raven staring at me, her eyes just inches from mine. She trailed a finger down my nose, pretending to peek under the mask that covered most of my face.
“I’m beginning to forget what you look like under that thing,” she laughed.
“Maybe that’s the plan.”
“So sad. Your face is too pretty to hide, Masque. You used to at least take the thing off between scenes.”
“It’s growing on me. Besides, I don’t really want my face being snapped in this place, regardless of whether I’m flogging the shit out of some young plaything or not.”
“Everyone knows the no-camera rule.”
“Wherever there are rules they are inevitably broken.”
“Fair, but your face isn’t exactly your only recognisable feature,” she laughed, tracing the tail of the tattoo on my chest. “You can’t get a mask for that thing.”
“Nobody outside of this place ever sees that thing.” I took her hand in mine as she continued her journey down the beast. “But this thing.” I pointed to my face. “People see this thing all the time.”