‘Thank you,’ says Lloyd, then his tone changes and I know he is addressing me. ‘Stand up. Turn back around.’
Rather than slide back down over my curves, the latex remains, slightly rumpled, halfway up my bum. As my eyes find that distant spot on the wall once more, Lloyd reaches out an idle hand to caress the bared skin. I only just catch the moan in my throat, replacing it with a shuddery exhalation.
‘Spread your legs, Sophie. Yes, that’s it. Little bit wider. Good.’
My pubic triangle is on display, lips parted to uncover the swollen red bud within. Lloyd, stroking my bottom and running a finger up between the c
heeks, pushes me forwards an inch or so.
‘Show them,’ he says softly. ‘Show them how wet you are.’
I tilt my pelvis, angling it so that my sex is as fully viewable as possible.
‘Take your hands off your head and hold your lips open for them.’
I obey, feeling as if all my blood is rushing from crotch to face and back again, draining every other part of my body. My legs feel weak and my arms start to tremble.
‘She’s very wet,’ he tells them, dipping fingers lightly into my juices.
‘She likes to be put on show.’ Mal is leaning forwards, his face livid red. ‘That’s a great sign. She’ll be brilliant at the master/slave events. Tons of potential.’
Lloyd, standing behind me now, lifts his fingers to my mouth and has me lick them, tasting myself on his warm skin. ‘You’re doing so well,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘I’m proud of you.’
I hate that his expression of pride makes my chest swell and my heart constrict. I hate that. I want to be indifferent to his fucking pride. Why can’t I be indifferent to it?
‘O, Mal, do you like her dress?’
Mal grunts his approval while O repeats her assertion that it’s ‘gorgeous’.
‘Perhaps you’d like to see it at closer quarters, then. Would you like to feel it?’
They don’t need asking twice. Like big cats on the veldt, they stalk and circle their prey, drawing closer.
Lloyd stands aside to let them surround me. ‘Touch her,’ he invites.
O’s elegant hand runs along my side, from my shoulders to my hips, snagging at the rumpled part of latex and moving beyond to land flat-palmed on my naked flesh.
‘I’d like to feel her tits,’ she says to Lloyd. ‘Are they heavy?’
‘Find out for yourself.’
She weighs them in considering hands, tending to them so gently. She has to be a submissive. There is no pinching or squeezing from her fingertips.
Meanwhile, Mal is all about my arse. He crouches behind me and I can feel his stare boring into the tops of my thighs. He holds me by the top of my thigh-highs and sniffs the leather. I feel his nose drift upwards on to my quivering flanks. When he buries his face in my bottom, Lloyd calls time.
‘I see you approve.’
‘Thank you for letting us examine her,’ says O, releasing my breasts and planting a daring quick kiss on my cheek. ‘She’s delightful.’
‘Delightful,’ echoes Mal, sounding a bit strained. When he comes back around to the front, I note a bulge in the tight leather pants.
‘One more thing,’ says Lloyd, to me. He puts one hand on my shoulder from behind and delves between my legs with the other, giving my clit a good rub, swishing his fingers in the surrounding gush. ‘You need to come, don’t you, love?’
It feels so heavy, so tender, so shamefully needy. I do, I do, but must it be in here?
It seems it must.
‘Oh,’ I whimper. ‘Please.’