Ann Mayburn - Sodom and the Phoenix

He pulled back and studied her with such an intense expression that she couldn’t hold his gaze and looked at her feet instead. “Why did you feel the need to kiss me?”

She flushed, finding it next to impossible to put her feelings into words without sounding silly. “I-I guess I just wanted to let you know I appreciate that you’re a gentleman.”

He laughed and hauled her to his chest, placing a sound kiss on her forehead and a pinch on her ass before releasing her. She squirmed away from him and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I take that back. You’re a cad, Sir.”

Laughter still glimmered in his eyes, but he stepped close, invading her space and making her look up at him. “You’re lucky you remembered to add the ‘Sir’ onto that, or I’d be tempted to throw that pretty dress over your head, bend you against this table, and spank your ass until it was as red as the strawberries on the cheesecake.” His hips pressed into hers, and the sensation of his erection pushing into her belly made her body tighten with need. “Then I’d spread your legs and mash those strawberries into your undoubtedly creamy pussy and eat my dessert.”

A tremor passed through her as she battled between burning embarrassment at the mental image he painted and the urge to toss her own skirts over her head. Before she could decide what to do, he spun her around with a smack on her ass. “You are temptation itself. Off with you before I decide the only experience you need tonight is how many ways you can worship my cock.”

With his words burning in her ears and the imprint of his hand heating her bottom, she stumbled between the tables toward the exit. Every step pressed her thighs against her wet panties and aching pussy. The rasp of her dress over her nipples only added to her torment. Worst of all, she could feel his eyes on her as she made her way through the crowd. Sure enough, when she reached the door, she looked back and found him watching her. Their gazes met, and desire flooded her, more potent than anything she had felt since she was a teenager.

Unnerved, she darted out the door and leaned against the outer wall, staring up at the tastefully recessed lighting in the ceiling. Once the doors of the ballroom closed behind her, the relative quiet of the hallway far off the main foyer rang in her ears. Her thoughts spun through her head like the pages of a flip book, little snapshots of conversations and images blurring through her mind in a confusing jumble. Bryan feeding her; Bryan laughing at something Master Greg said; Bryan watching her as if she were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

What stuck with her the most, though, was how aware he’d been of her needs. Something in the ballroom would catch her eye, and he would explain who or what it was before she even had a chance to ask. That care extended to her physical comfort as well. He’d noticed she didn’t like cauliflower, and had fed her only the vegetables she seemed to like, to the point where he’d taken food from his own plate and given it to her.

Across the hall, floor-to-ceiling windows looked out into a pleasant outdoor sitting area, protected from the outside world by tall adobe walls festooned with flowering vines. Spotlights illuminated carefully manicured trees and shrubs, and the wrought-iron tables had white pillar candles in tall glass jars. A small crowd gathered out there, some sitting at the tables and talking while others stood in small clusters. The groups were made up mostly of people she could only assume were part of the BDSM gathering by their risqué clothing.

At the back wall, an elaborate display of ice carvings set on long tables piled with artful arrangements of desserts caught her attention. Her father used to carve ice sculptures in the winter and would enter them into local holiday festivals. She could remember pressing her face against the kitchen window looking out over the backyard and watching her father carve, first with a chainsaw, then with a variety of tools as he coaxed an image out of the unforgiving ice. One wrong move and the sculpture would shatter, but her father had been very careful, and it never failed to make her shiver in delight once the carving was complete.

She wanted to go take a closer look at the carvings illuminated by a shifting series of rainbow lights, but she didn’t know anyone out there. Well, it wasn’t like she planned on talking to anyone while she looked at the sculptures; she’d just get a closer look at them and maybe grab some fruit or something chocolate and head back to her room. After all, it wasn’t like they were going to spare her any glances when they had half-naked submissives, who looked like they spent all their free time at the gym, vying for attention.

The warm night air caressed her skin as she pushed open the glass door and stepped onto the outdoor patio with a smart click of her heels against the concrete. When no one stared at her or made any snide remarks as she wound her way through the people and tables, she lost some of the stoop to her shoulders and walked straighter. Instead of smirks, the few people who did look at her as she passed either smiled or just examined her with an interest that was flattering.

She reached the first sculpture and tilted her head to the side as she examined the slowly melting statue. Two men embraced in a tight clasp, with one of the men on his knees and the other bent over him, making the man at his feet arch his back. At first it looked as if the man on the ground was being forced, but the more she looked at it, the more she could see how the artist had made the man on his knees strain toward the man towering over him, not away. Each shift of the lights brought out new expressions in the slowly melting faces, and she had to tear her gaze away to move on to the next sculpture.

A pretty Asian woman in a red and black latex kimono said, “Pardon me.” She reached past Tanwen to grab some type of decadent dessert from the mound of confections arranged around the sculpture.

Tanwen flushed and stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was blocking you.”

The woman laughed and continued to select desserts for her plate. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been staring at that image all night and wondering if I’d get in trouble for licking it.”

Tanwen laughed and tapped her lips with her finger. “I wonder if my tongue would get stuck to it like licking a flagpole in the winter.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bitch.” The woman held out her free hand. “My name is Annie.”

“Tanwen, nice to meet you.”

“So you come here often, Tanwen?” Annie gave a leering wiggle of her eyebrows.

“No. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Annie gave her a long up-and-down appraisal from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. There was no mistaking the heat in her eyes when her gaze returned to Tanwen’s face. “You don’t stick out like a sore thumb. More like a beautiful blush pink rose on a bed of black leather. I wonder if your whole body turns pink when you’re aroused.”

“Oh my. That is—Um, thank you. You look very nice too,” Tanwen babbled and winced at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, you’re lovely.”

Annie grinned, and some of the heat went out of her gaze. “Forgive me for being so forward. I’m afraid Sodom brings out my raging nymphomaniac side, and I forget not everyone is as…in the mood as I am. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable; it truly wasn’t my intention.”

“No, not at all.” Annie arched her eyebrows, and Tanwen grimaced. “Well, maybe I was a bit surprised. This is the first time I’ve ever been anywhere like this. I’m afraid I don’t know how to act or what to do. It’s like being a teenager but worse.”

Annie glanced over Tanwen’s shoulder and grimaced. “I don’t know much about it either. I’m here to visit a friend, but I’ve been having a great time people watching tonight. If you want to see how you shouldn’t behave, watch that redheaded Amazon bitch over in the corner. She’s been messing around with other people’s subs all night, and I’m trying to guess which dom is going to go over there first to beat the crap out of her.”