"Yes. I understand and agree."
She explained everything to the audience again, in French, and then she bent over the chair, her shiny leather pants stretched tight over her ass.
Moment of truth, Tori the Torrid, I told myself. Are you a good girl or are you a bad girl?
I rubbed the back of her thigh as she had done to me, then gave her a gentle spank.
The ladies watching murmured to each other, and I saw one of them cupping her hands.
My hand was tingling, as I'd forgotten my technique and had it completely flat. I cupped my hand slightly, and the next spank had a much juicier sound.
Our audience squealed.
I spanked Celine a couple more times, trying to get maximum sound with a soft strike. The room got really quiet, and all that could be heard was the spanking and the soft sounds of the woman moaning. My body was electric, all my senses sharp. I felt like anything could happen if I kept going.
That's enough, said the voice in my head.
I stepped back, put my hands on my h*ps and said, "Wow, that was nifty."
Celine got up from her bent-over position, her cheeks flushed and lovely. "Nifty? Sure." She smiled and gave me a warm smile, which made me feel better about being a total dork and treating her rump like bongo drums. "You did well," she said.
Next up, Celine herded us around the dungeon on a tour of the more complex equipment, including some restraints and a swinging chair that looked fun. After some small talk, we all wandered back upstairs to the main shop.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it could have been half an hour. My pulse quickened as I imagined Claude walking in and looking for me because I'd taken longer than the half hour I'd mentioned. I rushed around the store, grabbing some lingerie that looked cute and close enough to my size. I grabbed a bunch of adult toys, including a thing that looked like a jellyfish. As I was piling my things up at the counter, I spotted some cute purple dresses. Upon closer examination, I discovered they were vinyl and transparent.
"Who doesn't need one of these?" I said as I added a vinyl dress to my pile.
The androgynous person with multiple face piercings who was ringing through my things gave me a reassuring smile. I did not feel reassured.
"Are you in our customer database?" they asked.
"I should think not."
My joke hung in the air with no reaction.
I realized how rude my joke might have seemed, so I quickly said, "I'm from out of town."
The cashier grinned, revealing even more piercings. "Hotel sex is the best sex."
"So I hear. I'd sure like to find out."
My purchases were tucked away into discreet bags. "I think you might get lucky. Definitely wear the dress."
As we loaded the new things into the car, Claude averted his eyes when my toys wiggled and jiggled out of the small bag like escaping aquarium fish.
We drove back to the hotel in silence.
The Hotel Le St. James welcomed me, and I was relieved to be in the air conditioned lobby after just a few moments outside. I pressed the button for the private elevator up to the room and stared at my fingers, thinking about getting a manicure. As the doors opened with a mechanical whoosh that sounded a thousand times more elegant than any other elevator doors I'd encountered, I pondered how quickly I'd adapted to luxury.
I could get used to this.
The heavy bags of clothes and shoes felt so natural on my arm.
Inside the penthouse, however, the room was looking less like a luxury suite and more like a bachelor pad. I set down my packages, then picked up some food wrappers and dirty dishes from the coffee table and brought them over to the kitchen counter.
"I've only been gone a few hours," I said. "Yeesh, is there any surface you didn't make a mess on?"
Smith gaped at me from his reclining position on the long sofa, a remote control in one hand.
"Tori?"
"Yes?"
"Just checking," he said, turning away. "For a minute there, I could have sworn you were my wife." He clicked a button to change channels. "Oops, I mean my ex-wife. The nagging is not attractive on you."
Nagging? At his mention, the words I'd said upon entering reverberated through my head on playback, and I heard it.
"Shit," I said. "I'm channeling my mother. That's something she must have said to me a thousand times growing up. 'Is there any surface you didn't make a mess on?' Hah!"
"Shut up," he mumbled.
"What? Did you just tell me to shut up?"
"Of course not." He twirled one hand around in the air, his eyes on the TV, not me. "By all means, do carry on. And on. And on."
"Are you trying to bait me into fighting with you?"
"Are you trying to nag me to an early grave?"