Melissa watched as the glistening city streets swept by in darkness, past the windshield of Erik’s black Range Rover. Light rain had fallen most of the afternoon, then turned heavy at sunset. The dark clouds, however, had finally passed, leaving a clear, moonlit sky and freshly scrubbed streets.
Dressed as she was, Melissa was glad Erik was driving instead of her. He had spent over an hour preparing her for this evening’s trip to his favorite BDSM club in the city. While the result was stunning, she was so trussed and constrained that she wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through the evening.
Her costume was deep maroon, with dark highlights. Normally, she avoided wearing anything red, fearing the color would clash with her strawberry blond hair. She had doubts when Erik first showed her the dark brick red corset, with matching skirt and slave collar, but she was surprised at how amazingly good it looked with her hair once she tried it on. “Of course,” she thought, “calling this a skirt is doing it a huge favor.” It was long enough, at least in the back where it descended from a neo-Victorian bustle to trail on the floor. The front, however, swept upward to disappear into the waist of her corset, leaving a gap in front of several inches. There was some delicate black lace trim, but the lace didn’t quite meet either, leaving her freshly shaved sex completely exposed. “Except, of course, for the damned leather strap,” she mused to herself.
A thin black leather harness overlaid her underbust corset. In the back, it held her arms behind her, not as tightly bound as Yvette had been the night before, but not entirely comfortable either. In front, a thin leather strap descended from her waist, across her exposed skin, until it vanished between her labia. The pressure it exerted against her clitoris was incredibly distracting, even sitting still. When she moved or walked, she found it very hard to concentrate on anything but a desperate need for an orgasm.
In what seemed like cruel punishment, Erik had forbidden her to cum until he decided that she had paid sufficient penance. She’d discovered that her sins were not just limited to teasing him on the patio. They had been getting ready for bed, both exhausted, when she had joked about helping out Yvette by finishing off the bartender. Erik had flashed a moment of true anger, then suppressed it quickly.
She felt a sense of panic and asked, “Did I do something wrong? I mean, as free as everyone seems about screwing around, I thought…”
“No,” he said curtly. “Not your fault.” After a pause, he took a breath and continued, “We should figure out what the ground rules should be. I told you that being a sex slave meant that I could decide when, where, and with whom you would have sex. It’s part of the master/slave dynamic, although, of course, it’s also not something to be treated lightly or abused.”
He pondered for a moment. “The flip side of that, however, is that a slave, at least traditionally, does not get any say in picking someone for sex. You can ask me, but seeking out sex on your own is considered a terrible betrayal.”
“That’s a fucked-up double standard!”
He quirked a smile at her, “Master and slave versus enlightened equality. They’re not entirely compatible.”
She frowned, “Point. But that’s not the way we’re master and slave.”
He nodded, “I know. The power imbalance is a role we play. It’s supposed to be fun, something enjoyable. And of course,” he shrugged, “being a sex slave is your job. But it’s not meant to be who you are. And I sure as hell don’t want it to be who you are. So yeah, you should have the right to play with who you want. The thing is, it’s not the way that the roles usually work. It’s not what people expect. Last night, I’m sure Yvette thought I’d given you permission to play with Johnny.”
Melissa looked both puzzled and angry. “You’re upset because you’re worried about how other people see you?”
He snorted, shaking his head ruefully. “Ouch.” He snorted to himself, “In truth, yes, somewhat. The generally accepted rules of BDSM say that what you did is a terrible insult to a dom. If Mistress Amy were your dom, she would remove your collar and kick you out of her house.”
“Yeah, well that’s why I’d never want to be a sub to someone like her. I thought you were different.”
“Me too. That’s why I’m pained to have to admit that I feel embarrassed about other people knowing what you did with Johnny.” He looked at the ceiling for a long moment. “The thing is, in a scene like last night, it really is breaking character for a sub to do something like that. I’d rather that you didn’t. But outside of a scene, on your own, it is your life and your choice.”
Melissa frowned, “But outside of a scene like last night, I can’t imagine wanting anyone else but you.”
Erik smiled, “That’s very flattering, but, ah, Deborah? Serena?”
Melissa looked down, embarrassed. “Oh shit. But they’re girls; it doesn’t mean the same thing… of course, I’m not sure what the hell it means, but it’s not anything like how I feel about you. Besides, I thought you wanted me to make out with them.”
“I did. I do. I love watching you with another woman. Hell, I love watching you with another man. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you ‘finishing off’ Johnny last night.”
“He had this hurt little puppy dog expression when Yvette left.”
Erik laughed, “And he’s hunky as all hell.”
Melissa laughed in agreement, then added, “But he’s stupid as a… I don’t know what, but he sure isn’t all that bright.”
Erik nodded in agreement. He took a deep breath to clear his tension, then asked, “So are we clear on the ground rules? In a scene, where you’re being my sex slave, you need to ask permission to have sex with someone else. Outside of that scene, you are free to…” He hesitated, unsure what to say.
“Erik, I’m not going to go running around on you, screwing people behind your back. That’s not who I am. Although, wow, who the fuck I really am, that’s… I don’t know – that’s not turning out entirely like I expected.”
He reached out to caress her face and gave her a supportive smile. “You are very special.”
She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.
He shook his head in bemusement, then asked, “So you really gave Johnny oral sex because he had a puppy dog look?”
“Hurt puppy dog, like I had taken away his special chew toy because I made Yvette leave before he was done. I felt sorry for him. Sucking him off seemed like the least I could do.”
He laughed again. “Well, your good-little Catholic girl moral hang-ups seem to be a thing of the past.”
She laughed in agreement, “You sir, have indeed debauched me completely. Although it’s weird, with Johnny, I did feel guilty for taking something away and making him sad, and that’s true Catholic guilt. The way I fixed it – well, that’s where I’ve wandered pretty far afield.”
Erik nodded his agreement, “You’re right. Your core sense of right and wrong hasn’t changed, but the context you operate within has. Different set of rules.”
“That’s sort of reassuring, I guess.” She laughed, “Of course, I thought the rules of the Catholic church were strange. This world,” she waved her hand around, indicating his house, “this being whipped out on the patio for everyone’s entertainment… and my really, really liking it, that’s a whole different kind of strange. But God help me, it feels a lot more comfortable than all those screwed-up church rules. This is more who I am.”
After a moment, she shook her head sadly. “I am so fucked.”
In the mutual silence that followed, she found herself yawning hugely. Erik yawned as well. He pointed at his bed and they both walked over, hobbling somewhat in their fatigue and soreness. Before they fully snuggled together under the covers, they had fallen asleep.
Now she sat quietly as he drove, soft music playing over the speakers. She smiled to herself as she realized she was more nervous about walking around in five-inch heels with her arms tied behind her than she was about being out in public with her sex completely exposed. At least Erik had relented when she told him that the six-inch heels he had first picked out were simply impossible, at least if he wanted her to walk around with her arms bound.
She had asked him why he liked such impossibly tall heels. He had just shrugged and said it was a common fetish in the kink world. He took her up to his office/library and showed her two original drawings he had by John Coutts, who had signed them with his pseudonym, John Willie.
Looking at the framed drawings, which were hanging in a carefully lit niche, she immediately recognized the body type Erik was trying to shape her into, through the help of daily workouts. The women in the drawings were tall and slender, although they did have a slight 1950’s roundness. Melissa was relieved to see that roundness. As hard as Mistress Amy and Mike might work her, she knew she was never going to be as thin as a fashion model. It was comforting to know, at least given how much Erik seemed to love the drawings, that he didn’t lust after impossibly skinny women.
It had still been strange, though, to stare at the archetype of what must be Erik’s fantasy woman. The women in the drawings were wearing six inch heels, underbust corsets, and little else. She wasn’t surprised, considering how Erik liked her to dress. Looking closer at one of the drawings, she realized that the woman was freshly whipped, showing thin stripes across her buttocks.
Melissa felt a sudden sense of panic, fearing that her new-found love of kinkiness was only some desperate desire on her part to please Erik. His personality was so strong, she worried about losing herself in him. With a deep breath, she had reminded herself that she always liked how she looked in high heels, ever since she was a little girl playing in her mom’s closet. Even though the six-inch stilettos he loved wouldn’t have been her first choice for everyday wear, she did like his reaction to them.
The heels she had on tonight were still higher than she was entirely comfortable wearing, at least with her arms trapped behind her, but Erik had assured her that she wouldn’t be standing all night. He also reassured her that he would stay close enough to catch her if she tripped.
He pulled the Land Rover up to the curb where two valets and a doorman stood chatting with each other. As the car slowed to a stop, the valets sprung into action, one of them reaching out to open her door while the other one ran around to Erik’s side.
Her heart beat faster, knowing how exposed she would be as soon as the door opened. Erik reached over to release her seatbelt catch. He held up his hand to stop the valet on her side from opening her door, telling her, “Wait for me to come around.” Then he hopped out and walked around the car. The valet on her side stepped back to let Erik open her door. With a reassuring smile, Erik helped her out of the car, lightly supporting her until she was sure of her balance.
She looked up, noting that the valet and doorman were struggling to keep their gaze on her face, rather than letting their attention drift lower. She saw that Erik noticed their struggle as well. A quick grin flitted across his face as he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a black leather leash. He snapped the leash onto the ring on the front of her collar, then led her into the club.
As she had feared, the tug of her harness strap against her clitoris and labia was extraordinarily distracting. Fighting to stay present, she focused her full attention on the anteroom that lay past the front door. Although the room was plain, an attractive middle-aged woman stood behind a maître d’ podium. She was beautifully coiffed, made up, wearing a conservative c pinstriped business suit. No blouse or bra, however, was visible underneath her suit jacket.
Melissa decided she liked the dramatic dissidence of the woman’s classically conservative outer shell in contrast with the blatant sexuality of nothing underneath. Looking more closely, though, Melissa spotted a thin gold chain stretching across the open vee between her suit jacket’s lapels. From the arc of the chain, Melissa guessed it was attached to her nipples on either side.
Looking at the woman, Melissa had a brief flash of future possibilities and wondered if she would still look that good in middle age. It also seemed incredible to be so casually considering still being involved in this strange world decades in the future. Tonight marked her first week, but it was already hard to remember ‘normal’ life.
“Master Erik!” The woman stepped forward with a broad smile. “How wonderful to see you again, and thank you for bringing us such a lovely new guest.”
“Antoinette, you look beautiful, as always. Is the evening busy?” Erik gestured to the inner door.
“Not terribly so. It’s a gorgeous early summer weekend. Lots of people have fled the city for the shore or the mountains. But it’s a good crowd,” she nodded toward the door, “for the most part.”
Erik cocked and eyebrow at her qualifier.
“There’s a couple of guys who look like newbie posers.” She shrugged. “First time’s awkward for most folks. I try to give them a chance, and the staff knows to keep an eye on them.”
“Don’t think so. All flash and macho bravado. You’ll be amused.”
Antoinette laughed at his reaction, “We were all young and new once.”
Erik smiled, “Indeed, speaking of which, I’d like you to meet Melissa.”
Antoinette held out her hands to embrace Melissa, “Young and new perhaps, but with ever so much poise. Delighted to meet you.”
“Ah, thank you. It’s wonderful to meet you as well.”
“Have you ever been to a BDSM club before, my dear?”
“Um, no, not really.”
Antoinette raised a questioning eyebrow at Erik. He responded, “We went to Richard’s last weekend, but only the patio, not the back rooms. Don’t worry, though, she’s not likely to be too shocked by anything here.”
Antoinette nodded, then stepped back to retrieve a pad from her podium. Looking at Melissa, she said, “Still, I’ll need you to read the disclosure and waiver. Ask any questions you want. Take all the time you want. If you’re comfortable it, voiceprint it and then you’re free to go in.”
She turned on the pad and gestured Melissa forward to read it. Antoinette stood to one side, ready to turn the page for Melissa since her arms were bound behind her. Melissa read through the document carefully, but quickly. She was surprised by how little the text shocked her. The disclosure portion was a succinct description of the sorts of activities allowed and not allowed in the club. The waiver made very clear the safe word policy and each guest’s legal assumption of personal liability for whatever they allowed another guest to do to them.
She looked over to Erik, a little uncertain. He told her, “Don’t worry. ‘No’ still means ‘no.’ Antoinette’s staff is quite good, and her clients are generally great people. And I’ve got your leash. You’re mine.”
Melissa felt her breath catch at his last words and hoped he hadn’t noticed. Turning back to Antoinette, she nodded her acceptance. Antoinette tapped the ‘record’ button and Melissa read the agreement text aloud. When she was done, Antoinette smiled graciously. She pressed a button on her podium, which dimmed the lighting as she walked them to the inner door. When Antoinette opened the door, Melissa realized that it was actually two doors, one only a few inches from the other. Each door had tufted red leather padding on their inner faces.
Antoinette keyed in a code and pushed open the second door, motioning them forward. Music came pulsating out from the dim space beyond, although it was not the pounding intensity that Melissa normally associated with clubs. She was fairly sure she would be able to have a real conversation once inside.
Erik raised his hand with the leash, “Ready?”
He led her into the dimness, where she found her eyes immediately drawn to bright pools of light spread around the periphery of the large space. In each spotlit area was a piece of BDSM equipment, most of which seemed occupied. As her eyes adapted further, she could see that each bright area was raised up a couple of steps on a platform, facing its own semi-circle of couches and chairs, most of which were occupied.
In the center of the space was a freestanding bar, which wrapped completely around two bartenders in the center. The bar seemed remarkably uncrowded, Melissa thought, compared to the number of people in the club. Erik saw her puzzled look and explained, “They don’t serve alcohol or allow other intoxicants here, which is actually pretty common for the better BDSM clubs. Some places will have a strict one or two drink limit, but Antoinette and Ed decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of a liquor license.”
“But how do they make their money?”
“Entrance fee.” He gestured at the spotlit areas, “Also, equipment fee, cleaning fee, private room fee… and you’d be amazed what they charge for a glass of juice at the bar. Don’t worry, Ed and Antoinette do well, but they also run a good club, and that’s worth the price. Plus, it’s a lower key place than most other clubs, so it’s a good first step.”
Melissa nodded over to a naked man who was strapped to a large wooden X-frame. A petite woman in a black leather corset and matching black leather thigh-high boots was beating his buttocks purple with a paddle. He was clearly enjoying it, grunting with every blow. Melissa asked, “Low key?”
Erik shrugged, “Yeah, he’s going to have bruises for a week. That’s not my style. Even if the sub wants it, I don’t like striking that hard. The house rules here, though, are ‘no breaking the skin, no permanent marks.’ In the larger scheme of things, that’s considered moderate. This is sort of a beginner’s club, more accessible to the casual kinkster or a newbie. But I like it better than most of the harder-core places. There’s more unhappy, screwed-up people at some of those places.”
Looking around, Melissa nodded, “I’d believe that.” A puzzled look crossed her face.
Erik asked, “What?”
Melissa looked down, a little embarrassed. “Oh, I just wondered, um, there’s a lot of, a, out of shape people here.”
Erik laughed quietly, “You mean fat?”
Erik looked around thoughtfully. “I’d guess that about half the people here are ‘out of shape.’ Seems accurate?”
Erik continued, “That’s not far off the general population. It just looks a hell of a lot more obvious when they’re trying to be sexy and not wearing much clothing.”
Melissa shrugged, not entirely convinced.
Erik nodded agreement with her unvoiced doubts. “I’ve wondered too. A lot of kink people have had to get through years of carrying around secrets they felt shameful about. I think food is a way some people deal with that pressure.”
He paused, then continued, “Plus, there’s a pretty strong correlation between survivors of childhood sexual abuse and being overweight. Kids who get abused wind up with lots of shame. They can have serious body-image issues. Put that together with how those screwed-up sexual experiences as a child can warp someone’s sense of their sexuality… I don’t know, but I’ve learned to step gingerly with people who are new to this world. There’s times when a kinky experience in the present can make a sexually abusive past seemingly explode out of nowhere. Sometimes, the person wasn’t consciously aware of being abused as a child.” Erik’s voice trailed off quietly, lost in what seemed like painful memories of past relationships.
Gathering up her courage, Melissa asked, “Did you worry about that with me?”
“Sure, but that’s just part of being a good dom. Don’t worry; I haven’t seen anything that suggests there’s some ugliness hidden away back inside you. I think you’re kind of like me in that ‘what you see is what you get.’ You don’t seem to be the type who carries around a suitcase full of hidden agendas.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “that’s pretty much true. Then again, I never told anyone about my fantasies of being tied up.”
He laughed, “Trust me, you didn’t have to. Your very being screams it out.”
She made a face, “I’m not sure I like being that transparent.”
“Well, screams it out to me at least. For someone who’s vanilla… I’d guess they’d never see it.”
She glanced down at herself, then joked, “You don’t think being dressed like this might give them a hint?”
He laughed, “But you wear it well. Just looking at you keeps me hard.”
“Aww, you say the nicest things, Master. But you know, if you’re all hard, you must be horribly cramped in those pants. Wouldn’t a good slave get on her knees and help relieve you? I’ve been working really hard on my gag reflex. That soft dildo you gave me is wonderful for practice. I know I could kneel down and let you slide all the way into my throat, in one motion.”
He sighed, casting his eyes upwards in mock frustration, then looked at her sternly, “Such intimate contact with your Master is a reward that must be earned, not simply expected.”
“But I was only offering to help, my all powerful Lord and Master,” she protested in equally mock innocence.
“Balderdash! It must be earned, I say, earned. I fear, however, that all you’ve ‘earned’ is a whipping, young lady.”
“Oh Master,” she said, lowering her head demurely, “I do so crave your loving corrections.”
Erik grunted, “humpf,” as he looked around to find a suitable open platform where he could carry out her punishment. He halted in mid-scan, “Wait… that’s Michael and Deborah. Small world, I guess.”
Melissa followed the direction of his gaze to see Michael leaning over Deborah. She was spread-eagle, strapped to a contraption that supported her from underneath but left her body exposed from all directions. The device was painted black, so she seemed to float in the air at about table level with her head slightly higher than her feet. A thin black scarf was wrapped tightly around the upper part of her face.
Melissa asked, “What are they doing?”
Erik gave Melissa’s leash a little tug and started walking toward the spotlit couple. “Let’s find out.”
Walking in the darkness with her arms tied behind her, Melissa had to concentrate on not tripping in her high heels, so she didn’t pay much attention to the scene until they finally stopped by the semicircle of couches and chairs in front of the lit platform. There were only two other couples watching the action.
Deborah’s body glistened with sweat. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths that had a ragged edge. Her whole body occasionally trembled and twitched. With one hand, Michael slid a quietly buzzing vibrator back and forth between her engorged labia, while his other hand brushed lightly across her abdomen with a teasing touch.
Erik whispered into Melissa’s ear, “He’s probably been keeping her right at the edge of an orgasm for at least a half hour. It’s a game they love playing. He forbids her from coming, then teases her mercilessly.”
Michael looked up and noticed Erik and Melissa watching. He nodded to them with a smile, not pausing in his stimulation of Deborah. After a moment of thought, he cocked his head at Erik as if asking a question, then nodded at Melissa to come over. Erik nodded his agreement and unsnapped his leash from Melissa’s collar. A little uncertain, Melissa walked over to the platform and up two steps to stand next to Michael.
He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “I want you to lick her clit and eat her out, but slowly, softly. Don’t push her too hard. Make her struggle.”
Melissa nodded yes, but she felt less certain inside. As she walked around to position herself between Deborah’s legs, she could see more people drifting over to watch. Erik had taken a seat in a chair and was sprawled out comfortably. He gave her a reassuring smile.
Taking a deep breath, Melissa did her best to sink gracefully to her knees, without being able to use her arms for balance. Looking ahead, she saw Michael withdraw the vibrator from Deborah completely, leaving a dark opening surrounded by angry red labia. Melissa’s nose wrinkled at the pungent smell, which combined a rank earthiness with metallic undercurrents. She was reluctant to move any closer.
With the cessation of stimulation from below, Deborah moaned, arching against her restraints and writhing in search of something to fill her. Confronted with a friend’s needs, Melissa dutifully leaned forward and reached out with her tongue to caress Deborah’s swollen labia. Melissa was buffeted back as Deborah flung herself against her bindings, screaming out, “Benzona!”
Melissa checked to make certain that she hadn’t bitten her tongue, then resolved to proceed with greater caution. From a few inches away, she blew a stream of cooling air back and forth across Deborah’s nearly exposed clitoris, evoking desperate moans and further thrashing. Deborah growled out, “Mamzer.”
From above, Michael chuckled. “Such an ungrateful little slut. Curse all you want. I’ll show you no mercy.”
Deborah’s head whipped back and forth as she realized there were now two people tormenting her. Michael grinned, then motioned Melissa closer.
Melissa smiled back; her earlier misgivings pushed aside by the strength of the response she had evoked from Deborah. Still grinning, Melissa settled her mouth firmly down on Deborah’s pubic mound. After a moment to make certain that Deborah wasn’t going to thrash violently, Melissa sucked the bound woman’s clitoris up into her mouth. Deborah moaned desperately, her body rigid and trembling.
Slowly and carefully, Melissa drew her tongue alongside the other woman’s straining clitoris. She could see Deborah’s chest heaving and heard her beg through gritted teeth, “Bevakasha… Michael, please… let me come. Dear God, I beg of you. Let me come… you fucking bastard!”
“Tut, tut. Such language from a slave.”
Michael sighed elaborately, then raised a finger in warning to Melissa. “Well, if you must…” Melissa took one long swipe with her tongue directly across Deborah’s clitoris, then jerked her head clear as the other woman exploded in a loud scream, throwing herself against her restraints. Michael reached down to grasp Deborah’s sex, sliding a finger inside her to pull upwards against her G-spot.
Deborah’s loud screams and thrashing went on and on as Melissa knelt, astonished, between her legs. After what seemed like minutes, Deborah slowly subsided into whimpering quivers. Michael had withdrawn his hands as Deborah began to quieten. Now, he stood over her, arms crossed, with a very satisfied grin.
He looked over to Melissa and gave her a wink. Realizing that she would have difficulty standing back up with her arms bound behind her, he walked around to help lift her up. He whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”
Melissa whispered back, “Is she always like that?”
“This was a particularly strong one. When she starts cursing in Hebrew, I know she’s going deep.” He paused to carefully watch Deborah, who seemed to be floating in a semi-conscious state. Then he asked Melissa, “Are you okay to walk back to Erik? I need to take care of her as she comes back.”
“Sure,” Melissa replied, looking to see if Erik was still in his seat. She was shocked to see that a crowd had gathered to watch their show. Several couples had been stimulated into frenetic sex on their own, although she also saw one dominatrix with two leashed male slaves who were madly pumping in and out of her vagina and anus simultaneously. The geometry of their coupling seemed to be precariously perched across one of the couches. As best as Melissa could tell, the dominatrix was utterly unconcerned about the stability of the arrangement as she vigorously threw herself back against their penetration. Melissa smiled ruefully. It seemed like fun, even if it was likely to shortly wind up in a pile of bodies on the floor.
Spotting Erik, Melissa once again assumed the blank expression of a well-trained slave and concentrated on carefully descending the steps to kneel in front of him with her head bowed. From that position, she could see his erection pulling taunt the fabric of his pants. With malicious intent, she drew her tongue in a broad, wet circle around her lips, then peeked up at him.
He snorted in amusement. “Oh very well.” Reaching down, he unzipped his pants, freeing his straining penis.
Melissa checked to make sure she had enough saliva in her mouth, while also mentally suppressing her gag reflex. She leaned forward and drove down over him, spearing the girth of his penis straight into the back of her mouth and down into her throat. For one terrifying moment, she thought she was going to lose control and vomit all over him. She held off her panic, forcing herself to relax and accept the fullness blocking her throat.
Once she had control of her reaction, she pressed the last bit further down, pushing her lips against the flat of his abdomen at the base of his shaft. With determined moans, she strained against him, trying to cram him as deeply inside her as she could. She was amazed to be rewarded with pulsing spurts of his cum deep in her throat. The suddenness of his orgasm was a complete departure from the firm control he normally exercised.
She remained as long as she could with him deep in her throat before she finally had to draw back to take a breath. She let his penis escape her mouth with a little “pop” sound, just like Serena had taught her. Looking up, she saw Erik splayed back in his chair, completely relaxed, his chest rising and falling as though he had been running.
After a moment, he stilled himself and lifted his head up to look down at her. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shook his head slowly. “You… unrepentant vixen. I haven’t come that quickly since… hell, I don’t know when.”
Melissa ducked her head down to hide her sudden smile of victory. “My Master honors me so.”
Anything further was interrupted as Michael, carrying Deborah wrapped in his arms, sat down heavily on the couch next to them. Looking around, Melissa saw that much of the crowd was already gone, seeking out their next entertainment. She felt a momentary dislocation as she realized that she hadn’t given any consideration at all to having strangers watch her while she had given two people oral sex. She told herself, “God, I’ve become such a slut.” Laughing quietly, she thought, “Malcolm will be so proud of me.”