“You’ll bring Price to the party, yes? Tell me you’ll bring Price,” Andrew begged, growing giddy again. “That tall, blond, Scandinavian drink of water. Honey, you’re lucky he’s not gay, or I’d be all over him.”
“I thought you loved Craig.”
“I do love Craig, but can’t a boy dream? I’m envisioning a Craig and Price sandwich in this mysterious dungeon of his.”
I hadn’t heard anything more from Price about the dungeon. I suppose I’d stalled in my attempts to become dungeon-worthy. We were having plenty of sex and I was enduring plenty of lessons in surrender, but somehow it wasn’t enough.
“How much time do you spend with Craig?” I asked. “Like, in a typical week?”
“All the time I can,” he answered dreamily.
“No, I’m talking specifics. How many hours a day?”
“I don’t know, babes. As many hours as we can. I love him. I want to be with him.”
I thought a moment. “How much of that time are you Dom/sub, or Master/slave, or whatever you’re playing around with right now?”
“Hmm. Maybe an hour or two? Long enough for him to fuck me up,” he said with a laugh. “Look at this. Freaking look.” He drew up the legs of his skater shorts enough to show me a row of lines across his thighs. Cane lines. I shuddered as I recognized them.
“I’m sorry.”
“I was sorry too. He didn’t even tie me up. He just made me sit on a hard chair and take it. I also had a gargantuan plug in my ass.”
I was happy to hear I wasn’t the only one being inhumanely tortured by a Dominant partner.
“And look at this.” He knelt up on my couch and pulled his waistband down over his cheeks.
“I don’t want to see your ass plug,” I complained.
“I’m not wearing one now. Look at my ass. Look at my bruises.” He waved his butt at me, showing his impressively dark bruises with a proud smile.
I wondered what my bruises looked like. Price had used the Lucite paddle on me again the night before. I yanked my pants down too.
“Wow.” Andrew whistled as he looked at my battered cheeks. “I bet that was painful.”
I didn’t mention that I’d also been wearing a gargantuan ass plug. Showing my naked, bruised butt to my gay friend was pretty much the limit of sharing for me. I pulled my pants back up and looked closer at Andrew’s ass, at tiny, clustered patterns of dots.
“How did he do that?” I asked, pointing to the little red pinpricks.
“Something called a vampire paddle. He ordered it from Germany. God, I adore Craig. He’s so twisted. He says he’s going to put me in chastity soon. You know, the whole cage contraption on my cock, with the lock and key and everything? Just for fun.”
I’d learned a little about male chastity during my trips to the BDSM clubs. It didn’t seem that “fun,” but to each his own. I hoped that Price didn’t know anything about vampire paddles.
Andrew talked for a while longer about the depraved things Craig did to him during their play sessions, which made me feel a little better about my own deepening sexual perversity.
“Does Craig ever choke you?” I asked. “Like, with his hand, or a belt?”
“Oh, God, yes,” he said, clasping his neck. “I love it.”
“Does he do it until you pass out?”
His eyes widened. “Price chokes you out? Isn’t that scary? Craig never goes that far.”
“It’s kind of scary. He only does it every once in a while. When I wake up, he’s always kissing me.”
“I want him, Chere. For real. I want your man. I’m going to try to turn him gay.”
“You know what’s funny?” I said, ignoring Andrew’s silliness. “We both ended up having inappropriate relationships with our mentors. Really inappropriate relationships. What would Norton say if they knew?”
“I know what Cantor would say.” Andrew imitated his prickle-inducing gaze. “I should have been her mentor.”
He was so spot on with the speech pattern and intonation that I burst out laughing. “I wonder what good old Professor Predator is up to these days.”
“I know what he’s up to. My friend Tracy sees him at Studio Valiant all the time. He’s apparently getting kind of serious with this girl. Woman. An older woman. I mean, you know, not a student. Who would have imagined?”
So even Cantor was having a serious, real relationship outside his wackadoo open marriage. Why was everyone else hooking up so easily and so naturally when I couldn’t even qualify for Price’s dungeon?
“Good for Cantor,” I said glumly.
“Are you jealous? Your thing with Price is way hotter, I’m sure.”
“It’s hot, but…”
“But what?” he prodded.
“I don’t know. I feel like he could leave again tomorrow. I like the rush of being with him, but I feel like all we have is adrenaline, and mystery. There’s nothing real between us, and he keeps it that way on purpose.”