“No, actually, I might need you for this.” Jessie runs a hand through her hair, leaving her fringe sticking up all over the place. “Candace broke her ankle this afternoon in an aerial stunt gone wrong and Cherisse is off sick with a virus. I’ve called up all our usual acts but it’s Friday night and no one is free. We’ve got no one booked for the headline slot on the main stage.”
“Right, ok. Let’s not panic. Which of our members do we have in? Any of our exhibitionists or doms that might fancy taking their performance to a wider audience?”
Jessie looks at me pointedly and the penny drops.
“Oh. No. No no no.”
“Please, Luke. You’re my only hope. People have been begging for you to get back on stage. You’re always a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. I could pair you with one of your regulars?—”
“No, Jess. I’m with Emmy tonight.”
Jessie shoots a pleading look at Emmy, who’s nibbling her lip with worry.
“It would be 30 minutes. 45 tops,” argues Jessie, glancing between us.
“The answer’s no,” I say firmly. I’m not dragging Emmy up on stage and making her feel uncomfortable. It is absolutely not hap?—
“I’ll do it,” says Emmy. “It’s only half an hour and we were going to do ropes tonight anyway. You demonstrate the knots and I’ll be your model.”
“Amazing!” cries Jessie, all but leaping up and down like a toddler who’s just been handed candy floss. “Are you happy with being topless?”
“No, Jess, come on?—”
“Yeah, no problem.” Emmy talks over me and I bite my tongue. “I’d prefer to keep my knickers on if that’s ok but I am happy to be topless. It’s all an experience, right?”
“You’re incredible Emmy, really. We will owe you one. Free drinks for life. Well, you probably get that anyway…”
“Ok Jessie,” I interrupt. “Get everything set up and Emmy and I will meet you backstage just before 9pm.”
“Right you are, boss,” she says, disappearing out back with a spring in her step.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, searching Emmy’s eyes for any hints of doubt or fear.
“Yes, I’m sure. It will help Salt, right? And if it helps you out, then I’m all for it.”
“You’re amazing. But even if it’s two minutes before we go on stage, if you say stop?—”
“You’ll stop,” she finishes for me.
I lean down and kiss her, hard. Her mouth opens and a small whimper escapes as our tongues tangle.
“Come on, let’s go chat through things before our big moment,” I say, passing her a drink and grabbing mine. “I need you to know what to expect.”
Emmy follows me up the stairs to my office and makes herself comfortable on my sofa. It’s only once we’re alone that I take her in properly: a blue shimmering dress with a slit that climbs indecently high, giving teasing flashes of creamy thigh. She catches me staring and smirks, utterly unrepentant.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I breathe, leaning down again and filling my nose with the scent of her hair.
She grins up at me.
“Focus, Mr Pullman,” she chides, while pulling my lapels down so I practically land in her lap. I straddle her thighs, cupping her face as I pull her mouth back to mine and we spend a few minutes devouring each other. I inwardly groan as I remember we do actually need to prep for this.
“You’re a terrible distraction,” I rasp, pulling back and climbing awkwardly off the sofa, my cock tenting my suit trousers like a teenager. She merely grins in reply, licking herlips in a way that makes me want to take her straight down to the playrooms.
I grab the box off the shelf and her eyes light up as I carry it over to the sofa.
“I’d always wondered what was in these,” she says, her tone reverent as I draw out several metres of silky black and red rope.
“Some people write off Shibari as simply a form of bondage that’s aesthetically pleasing,” I explain, running the ropes through my fingers. “But it’s a lot more than that. It’s sensual and it involves a great deal of skill, and a great deal of trust.”
