Chapter 5 – Xavier
“Why did I accept thisinvitation again?” I asked, eyeing the zealous men around the large hall, behaving like they’d never seen a cock fucking a pussy before or a woman being whipped by a man who wasn’t even proper in his presentation.
We’d been invited by the mayor, Andrew Turner, to attend his annual fundraising ball, typically held in Birmingham. However, this year, he’d brought it to my neck of the woods, Jersey and possibly why I accepted.
“Because you’rethemost respected Dom in our esteemed circle of name-droppers, Uncle. And if you turn them down, such travesty befalls the host.” My clown of a nephew enjoyed making a mockery of high-class snobs, as he liked to call them, failing to accept he was considered one of them by status alone.
‘Quite clearly not his forte,” I added, my tone open cynicism, wondering why he’d gone this route.
Andrew favored simple black-tie dinners. This year, he’d surpassed his comfort zone. Bluntly put, his attempt to showcase his new bedroom tastes had turned his regular soiree into a BDSM parody of note. A lifestyle my family accepted, respected, and admired. Since I came into power, I took pleasure in not only learning the art, I encouraged my family to try it. This was a shitstorm on the worst possible day.
“And what are you doing here, Rhett?” My gaze came back to his.
“Adrian dragged me here,” he replied as my other nephew approached us, having gone to greet a colleague.
“I did what?”
“Rode my arse into this circus.” Rhett waved a hand around the room. “You should get Andrew to attend one of the Winthrop parties, Uncle. Might give him some pointers.”
“Well, I didn’t ride your arse here. Your cock did,” Adrian snorted. “He’s hoping to land one of the elderly madams here.”
Adrian’s snigger earned him a punch in the arm from Rhett. No matter how much he tried to hide it, we all knew Rhett loved older women, especially the married ones. He was always getting his arse kicked out of the house by some deranged husband then acting like he didn’t know the woman.
“One of these days, you’re going to meet an older woman who’s going to ignore your boyish charm and leave you panting to get into her knickers.” Adrian garnered another punch, this time, he retaliated.
Laughing at their childish banter, I let my gaze drift over the room before settling on a young woman. She stood on the other side of the floor, watching a whipping scene on one of the podiums. Everything about her screamed submissive, but her reaction to the show begged something else. She flinched each time the whip cracked, her fear palpable in how she gripped her dress. I’d been around many first-timers to the BDSM world, I’d never seen a response this anxious, though. Her entire body language signified either extreme shock or a painful encounter. Experience taught me to lean toward the latter.
“What’s piqued your curiosity, Uncle?” Rhett drew my attention for a second.
“Nothing that would interest you,” I answered distractedly, my gaze flying back to the girl.
Her terrified countenance to a man approaching her spoke to her innocence around men. Frowning, I watched the interchange, curious how it would pan out. The other woman with her seemed to take charge of the situation and I felt my shoulders relax. Maybe I wasn’t as clued up with the situation as I thought. I shifted my gaze to the two boys as one of their friends approached us.
A few minutes later, about to answer a question Adrian asked, I caught sight of the girl, dashing away in my periphery, and turned fully in time to see the other woman give chase. My decision to go after her came a moment too late. Andrew stormed into her path and grabbed the girl’s wrist, stopping her forward momentum. Usually, I would’ve said my friend was merely trying to bring a semblance of control to a guest gone wild at his party. Her reaction to him, however, said otherwise.
They knew each other, not in a friendly way, though. Where his expression declared unconcealed arrogance, the girl’s floated between anxiety and confusion. She feared him more than the first man who approached her. When the other woman arrived, an earnest conversation between her and Turner ensued, escalating the younger woman’s agony.
Tension rode my tendons, demanding I did something.What exactly? I questioned my inner reasoning.
If I’d strolled over, it might’ve caused the girl to panic, given how she reacted to the men in this room. I ignored the ramification, and just as I decided to go, she glanced over Andrew’s shoulder, her eyes connecting with mine. I had no idea why but something in the way she looked at me reached deep down into hidden memories, twisting them to take note of her. To help her. To relive a past situation, I kept locked for my family’s sanity.
I smiled, hoping she’d take it as an invitation to allow me into her little circle. Briefly, a visible calm appeared to settle over her, and I took it as a positive sign to engage. The moment was short-lived. Apprehension gathered on her face again, and she broke contact. I would’ve withdrawn my need to help if it weren’t for the way Turner gripped her arse, his mannerisms not befitting a mayor. Anticipating she’d make a run for it again, I strode toward one of the two exits, and as I did, I caught her searching eyes. Confident she was looking for me, I waited to see what she would do.
Another few seconds later, she ran again, heading for the other exit. Hoping to cut her off, I hurried through the crowd.
