I wanted them to keep teaching me like the good little girl I wanted to be.
“Well,” the woman in the feathers said as two men approached me from either side, “why don’t we get you into a little bit of trouble, then?”
One of the men whipped out a blindfold and quickly tied it around my eyes. I heard the girls practically shrieking as I gripped the plush arms of the chair. I felt one of the man’s hands on my shoulders, massaging them in an attempt to get me to relax.
And the second I did, the music queued up.
“Holy shit!” Kelly exclaimed.
A whip cracked in the air and I flinched. I felt something being tied around my ankles and my eyes widened. The massage crept up the back of my neck as the woman in feathers started singing with her angelic voice, and all the while I heard feet dancing around me in unison.
Before someone slapped handcuffs around my wrists.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the man asked.
I heard his voice echoing into the room, which meant he had a microphone as well.
“Rebecca,” I said softly.
He chuckled. “Well, Rebecca, let me ask you something.”
“Sure, of course. Go ahead.”
And that’s when he yanked the handcuffs, pulling me to my bound feet. “Are you a dirty little whore?”
For JoJo, yes.“I—I want to be?”
The woman started talking again. “Then, let’s give it up for our main event!”
Feathers tickled my skin and fire being blown at me caused me to twitch. At one point in time, someone shoved me back into my chair before they started grinding on me. With all my might, I wanted to see what was going on. I wanted to digest everything they were doing so that I could put a few of those tips in my back pocket.
I knew I hadn’t experienced much in the way of sexual bliss, but I wanted to experience all of this. I wanted to be bound by someone. Teased by someone. I wanted to get down on my knees and be praised for my hard work. I wanted someone to own me. Please me. Control me, in all the best ways.
And I wanted JoJo to be the guiding hand while I explored.
9
Rebecca
The restof the night passed in a blur. After my fourth mango margarita, the show was nothing but blips and flashes. At one point in time, we had ditched the show in favor of going to a sex shop, and I distinctly remember Brit trying to get me to purchase something called a “BDSM kit.” I didn’t remember much after that, though.
And as I wore my sunglasses into my office, I tried my best to nurse my hangover while still trying to get work done.
“You look about as rough as I feel.”
I looked up from my email and found Brit leaning heavily against my doorway. She, like myself, had sunglasses on, and her clothes were a bit on the wrinkly side. I giggled as I ushered her to come inside, and she sighed with relief before slamming the door behind her.
Then, she dropped into the chair in front of my desk. “God, just a few minutes here. That okay?”
I snickered as I slid my sunglasses off. “Take all the time you need. I’m apparently due in Mr. Ryker’s office anyway.”
She furrowed her brow. “What for? He got a stick up his ass this morning, too?”
I giggled as I stood. “He says it’s urgent, so I’ll turn the light off.”
“Come back with coffee,” she groaned.
I hummed at the idea. “If I fetch coffee, you’re fetching lunch.”
