R. Lilley - Rock Bottom

It was held in the penthouse of an expensive, exclusive apartment complex just off the strip. I had no idea who owned the place, but it didn’t matter. If James was attending that meant it had been vetted well, since he would never attend a gathering that could potentially ‘out’ him. He was too public a figure not to be careful at maintaining his privacy.

A bald, muscular man met us at the door. Deuce. I knew him. I nodded politely at him as I walked through the entrance. He was a wealthy Dom, and we’d been attending many of the same functions for years.

I didn’t look back at Estella, expecting her to follow.

The decor was sparse but modern, almost every surface black. It was a very large suite and not overcrowded. These types of functions never had more than thirty participants, and even that high of a number was rare.

Generally, you could tell the Doms from the subs at a glance. Subs almost always wore less clothing. I was one of the few exceptions, with my ripped up jean skirt, and a shredded black half-shirt that showed off some serious under boob. Estella, in contrast, wore a rather conservative black dress that hugged her soft curves to perfection.

I’d never been a huge fan of covering up my ink. I saw it as art, and displayed it accordingly, my clothes framing my tattoos rather than covering them.

I smiled big when I saw James. I was blessed in the friend department, having many that I was close with, but James would always have a special place in my heart. There were few I admired more, or had so much in common with. I remembered him as a tortured teen, and now, at only twenty-four, a formidable man. I felt pride in him, like a big sister might.

He had Jolene with him. She was his go-to sub. I didn’t care for her, but they were compatible in the most rudimentary, base way, and so I understood his attraction to her. He’d never have a complication with that one that his checkbook couldn’t cure.

I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, completely ignoring Jolene, as that was my prerogative. She was no conversationalist.

James had his eye on Estella the second he spotted her behind me, and it barely wavered as we made polite small talk. He wasn’t one to mince words, and quickly put the spotlight on her.

“Are you going to introduce us? Where did you find her?”

I smiled. I couldn’t really tell if he was interested in her on a personal level, or interested in my interest in her. You didn’t often see new faces at these things.

“This is Estella. She’s a…friend, who is curious about the lifestyle.”

He didn’t question if I trusted her. He had enough faith in me to know that my judgement was sound.

“Is she yours?” He sounded just a touch bored, as he often did. Some of that boredom was cultivated, but just as much of it was a sad sort of ennui.

I sent Estella a cursory glance. She was eyeing up James as most women did the first time they saw him. He was a God, even I could see that, but it still stung to see her display such blatant admiration for someone else, and a man, to boot.

“No. We have no ties. Not like that.” Especially if she was bi. Bi girls were nothing but walking heartbreak for girls like me.

“Well, that’s a pity. You two look good together.” His voice was amused.

I shrugged, looking around. “She’s new to this, and wants to experience the lifestyle. I’m just her guide, for the moment.”

“May I kiss her, Mr. Cavendish?” Jolene broke in, her voice low and throaty.

That had me clenching my teeth, but Estella wasn’t mine. She’d told me clearly that she wanted to experience the lifestyle, and this was certainly a part of that.

“If Mistress Abelli allows, you have my permission to kiss the new girl,” James told her, looking at me, his perfect eyebrows lifting in inquiry.

I didn’t look at Estella, barely glanced at Jolene. I watched only James as I answered. “Why not? Estella, you may kiss the girl.”

I didn’t look at first, only catching the movement of Jolene approaching Estella out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look as I heard Jolene moaning obscenely. She was too over the top for my taste. It always seemed to me like she was trying to get attention above all else, even pleasure.

Estella was holding very still, her hands down at her sides. And stiff. The sight of those red lipsticked lips touching Estella’s soft, lush, generous mouth made my stomach roil.

Jolene went right for it, burying her hands in the other woman’s hair and kissing her hard.

“That’s enough,” James said quietly.

Jolene instantly pulled back, looking up at him with a seductive smile, blood red lipstick smeared all over her mouth. She looked like a savage little bitch, and I hated her in that moment. But it wasn’t my right to be jealous, and I quickly squelched the feeling rising like bile in my throat.

“She tastes delicious, Mr. Cavendish. You should try her.”

James arched a brow at her, still just looking bored.

“Do it,” I heard myself saying.

All of us sadists had a masochist hiding inside of us somewhere.

“I haven’t asked, but I have a feeling she doesn’t mind men, either. So taste her, if you’d like.”

He looked surprised, studying me for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged, crooking a finger at her.

He took his time, pulling her to him very slowly, settling a hand in her hair, and one at her waist.

Jolene, ever the attention whore, moved close behind Estella, rubbing her breasts against the other woman’s back. Her delicate hands reached up without asking, and fondled Estella, her tiny hands overflowing with my Estella’s perfectly rounded tits.

I seethed, but kept my silence.

James was looking down at Estella’s downturned face when he barked. “Back off, Jolene. She doesn’t like that, and you know better than to touch without asking.”

Jolene backed off, but she pouted while she did it.

He kissed her. It was the perfect kiss, of course. Soft, sensual, and full of finesse. James did everything well, and I found myself resenting him for that for the first time ever.

He pulled back rather more quickly than I’d have thought he would, sending me a partly amused, partly chastising look that had my brows drawing together in a question.

Estella was facing mostly away from me, and he turned her very gently with the hand still buried in her wavy hair. His other hand came up and his index finger wiped her cheek. He held it up, as though to show me something, pushing Estella’s other cheek softly against his chest.

I stepped forward to look. It took me a moment to realize he’d wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I don’t know what kind of things you think I’m into nowadays, Frankie,” he told me, sounding exasperated, even while his hand stroked over Estella’s hair comfortingly. “But traumatizing your date is not one of them. I think you hurt her feelings. This one likes you.”

My mind reeled. Almost reluctantly, I reached out a hand, grabbed her arm, and tugged her out of his arms and to me. I pulled her into my side, closing my eyes as her soft, full breasts pressed into mine.

Without asking, she buried her face in my neck, kissing the pulse there, her wet face touching against my skin, as though to illustrate her tears, and inadvertently reprimanding me.

James sighed, shaking his head, the faintest smile still touching his mouth. “This looks like a private moment to me. We’ll leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to,” I protested.

“It’s all right. I need to prepare for our demonstration. We’ll talk later.” He walked away, Jolene following in his wake.

Estella’s arms latched around my waist, her breath gasping out of her. Not sobs exactly, more the thing you would do to keep from sobbing.