Red Ch. 04

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Position 4

The car ride was unbearable. There was a hardness building in her core, causing her squirm. The constant shifting spread the dampness from her groin to her thighs. She sat at lights and stop signs, hot and wet and sticky, unbeknownst to the strangers next to her. Her left hand was playing with the fabric of her dress, and her teeth bit her lip. Nails tapped in waiting. Eyes like oceans. She let out a shaky breath. If it weren’t for the small bump into the parking lot, she would’ve made it to her apartment.

Mina turned off her car, hiked up her dress, and spread her thighs wide. Her sex filled the car and it made it all the more hot. She ran her fingers firmly down her thigh, lightly scraping. She whimpered when she pressed her palm flat against her mound, and began to roll her hips. She was so wet her fingers slipped between her folds carelessly, teasing at her clit. They found it already hard, and soon focused on loving it. Her other hand massaged her breast, cupping it, grasping it, and she licked her lips, sighing with pleasure. Underneath the maroon lace, her nipples hardened.

The heat matched the thick wetness hiding inside of her cunt. She closed her eyes and finally had a face. Connor’s face. A finger slid in easily, and she imagined it was His. Her body twitched at the thought, and moaned. She began pleasuring herself, slowly, and fully. Her inner walls were pulsing around her finger, and they grew even hotter with the echoes of His voice.

Mina slipped another finger inside, but kept the same, patient rhythm. The width, as well as the teasing pace, had her head falling back, lips parted, and softly panting. Her leg muscles began tightening up. Her flats fell off her pointing feet. Her free hand pinched at her nipples; the fabric was frustrating to grip, but the sensations followed through. Mina wondered what His skin tasted like, how His lips would feel trailing down her breast. Her hips were moving faster now, more determined, and the rhythm grew rapid and hard, the thick pad of her palm slapping against her swollen lips. The windows began to fog.

Her cries were thankfully muffled, but they were loud as hell inside. Her foot ended up pushing at the ceiling, while her fingers pounded away at wet flesh. Her other hand now furiously played with her clit. Her walls were pulsating, Mina reaching her peak. Her breathing quickened when she imagined Connor’s hardening cock. She wanted to taste it so bad, to feel it in her mouth… To feel Him inside of her. Her orgasm came out of nowhere, hitting her straight in the core. The tightness, of her pussy, of her muscles, of her chest, made her head hurt. Her body shook as it rode the waves. She was panting and spent, picturing Connor’s smiling face as she drifted back down.


“They’re… eccentric,” Mina picked through her jewelry box.

“Your kind of people, then,” Reagan laughed. “When does the… event? It’s called an event, right?”

“Yep,” she tried on a pair of turquoise squares. She cocked her head this way and that.

“Right, okay. So when does the event start?”

“In four hours, but I have to be there in two,” Mina fished out a pair of small copper sun studs and smiled. Perfect, she thought.

“So, you’re leaving now.” It wasn’t a question. Reagan and Mina had been friends for half of their lives; they stood solid through teenage angst, failures and life achievements, family and loss. They knew each other, inside and out, but Reagan was always cautious when talking about the lifestyle. There was no judgment, and Mina knew it was rooted in good intentions, but the constant walking on eggshells routine made her feel… wrong. It made her feel like it wasn’t normal – like she wasn’t normal – when it absolutely was for her. But how could she explain that? How could she put into words what that connection meant, what pain felt like beyond the pain?

“Yeah, yeah, just some finishing touches.” Mina spread a dark balm over her lips and smacked them together, then slipped a raw fire opal on her finger. Though used to enhance vitality and creative energy, the wearer be warned of its sensual and sexual vibrations. Risky, she thought, but she needed the confidence.

“What are you wearing?” Reagan asked in a low voice, trying not to laugh.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, perv,” Mina hung up on the cackles, and tossed her phone on the bed. A heap of clothes found their way from her closet to the sheets, but she had chosen a white dress that hugged her neck, arms, waist, and thighs, with a cut out heart in the back. Her huge tattoo peeked out. Hair straightened and gladiator sandals tied, she nodded at her reflection. You got this.


“That’s more like it!” Jonathan praised her as he rushed down the stairs to help her. They gingerly set the equipment down, then she twirled around and laughed. The past few days was a blur of coffee dates and staff and model greetings. The Masters and Mistresses of Salvation were very welcoming, but naturally, they dominated their way into her schedule. And in that time, she saw how well they worked together Betturkey – how much of a family they really were.

Deidre was a constant force, the mother who wrangled them in, Xo the silent big brother. Six years ago, Salvation was birthed from their hands. With Xolani a businessman and Deidre a lawyer, they built a sanctuary for people of similar proclivities. They were responsible for every person that walked through those halls, and had the reverence of each one. Nadine and Jon were twins from opposite sides of the world who found each other at the Stonewall one night, taking shots off some Puerto Rican hotties. Bestowed the gift of gab, the duo handled Salvation’s public relations and clientele. Dylan was near starving when she found herself at Salvation’s doors. No one explained further than that, and Mina didn’t ask. She had a talent for technology, and mostly kept to herself. And Connor? Well… Connor never seemed to be around. She’d catch His shadow sometimes, and she would hope, but He’d never come back. All Mina learned was that He was in charge of demonstrations, and He was born in Ireland. She found herself wanting to know more of Him, and over the days, she touched herself nearly every night with thoughts of submitting. Waste of time, she thought, but made for really, really hot fantasies.

“You’re insanely early,” Dylan said from the porch. With legs on the table, bug-eyed sunglasses, and green hair in two braids, she almost seemed soft.

“Life motto,” Mina joked, offering the valet a smile and her keys. “Thanks, Kyle.”

“The models just got here. They’re upstairs, putting on makeup, clipping in extensions, bathing in oil,” Jonathan laughed.

“The usual,” Mina laughed back, but then stopped at the stairs. “Ah, my natural enemy.”

“I got it,” Connor emerged from the doorway, plaid sleeves rolled up. His wavy hair was haphazard, but his eyes stayed strong on hers. Her smile was so bright, it nearly blinded him. They lifted from the bottom of the suitcase, and she stepped up the stairs first. A strand of hair stuck to her lips, but she couldn’t let go to move it. Jonathan, who was carrying Mina’s lighter camera bag, caught Connor transfixed and snickered.

“Thanks!” They set the case down with a soft thud, and Mina fixed her hair and dress. Strolling into the foyer, she cleared her throat, “Where should I put this?”

“Past the panthers, my dear,” Xo’s deep voice was louder than his footsteps. He gestured to the doors nestled in the ballroom with a busied wave. For all the time spent, Mina had yet to explore Salvation’s halls, much less venture past any of the curious doors. Taking her bag from Jon and her suitcase from Connor, Mina walked timidly into the ballroom. A cool breeze tempted her from the windows, and she stopped to gaze out at the bright lawn. Connor cocked his head to the side and watched her from the entrance, arms crossed.

“OK, creeper. Stop staring and go help her,” Jon pushed him forward. Connor hesitated, then started walking. Jon and Xo began talking over the night’s event, with Dylan swaggering after them.

“How many tries do I get?” Mina waited at the keypad. She looked over her shoulder, smiling, gray eyes flickered onto His but quickly looked down. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t exert yourself just yet,” Connor’s fingers were swift and precise, and He glanced back before He opened the doors. “You’ve got a long night.”

The entire room was black. Black walls, black floors, black curtains. There was no furniture and no one else in the room, but there were four circular platforms near each corner, about a foot tall and wide. Connor switched on the lights, which were just small holes in the ceiling.

“Huh… I kinda expected more than this,” Mina looked around. “Is that rude to say?”

“Well you already said it, so it doesn’t matter what I think,” Connor started inspecting the platforms.

“Of course it does,” she said seriously at first, but cracked a smile. “Not about this, but in general.”

He snorted, but declined giving in. She knelt down and opened her luggage. While she began putting together her camera stand, He couldn’t help but steal a glance. The sight made His mouth dry – on her knees, breasts forward, head bowed – and He turned away. “Xo makes good use of it.”

“Please tell me there’s a hidden door to the vault.”

“Even better,” She raised an eyebrow, curious. He smirked, “Don’t tell me you don’t know?”

“That’s why you’re here, I don’t know the password!”

He laughed, “They were right, you are funny.”

“Talking behind my back? Did not peg you as a mean girl.” She was giddy with the fact that He asked of her, but she forced herself to calm. She reached into the bag, retrieved her camera and secured it on the tripod.

“Have you been photographing long?” He turned back to her, regretting it immediately. Her torso was twisted, her arms stretched up. The position had her whole body strained. He wondered what other positions she could make.

“No,” She started assembling a light stand, and He sat down to help. Betturkey Giriş Mina, surprised, pointed to the other stand. “I’ve painted for most my life. I started photography three years ago. Kind of why I came here, really. The seasons are gorgeous.”

“Right. The seasons,” He used air quotes, and grinned smugly. There was a twang of annoyance, but she brushed it away. First impressions, Mina. When his brow creased after He failed to connect the pieces of the stand, Mina softened. She looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t think I need the lights…” He shook his head and pushed the pieces back into the suitcase. She laughed apologetically, “I’m sorry.”

She stood up gracelessly and offered her hand. He looked at it, the slender fingers, the raw ring, and gripped. He stood up, towering over her, and though it was intimidating, Mina felt safe. Her nipples hardened ever so slightly. They had a tendency to hold hands too long, it seemed, for moments had passed before He finally let go. She took a small step back and looked down.

“It’s cheaper here, too. Quiet, with less pollution. And my exhibit, but that’s most likely a one-time thing,” she shrugged. Her tone was nonchalant, but full of doubt.

“It is a Dominant’s job to punish his submissive, not her own.” He took her chin and looked in her eyes, serious. “You have to faith have in yourself, Mina. You are an artist. I saw your portfolio, and I see you now.”

“Oh, uh… Thank you…” Her smile was sweet, yet shy, but their eyes stayed locked. She could smell Him, He was that close… But not close enough. She raised her hand warily and slowly took his away. But they stayed like that until she finally averted her gaze. He dropped his hand, tending once again to the platforms, but it was there – left unsaid. Her fingers were stiff.

“An exhibit, huh? The big leagues. Not the first, I’m sure,” He tried to sound casual. He tried to sound anything but what He felt.

“My third, if you count grade school.”

“Then it’s not really a one-time thing, is it?” She felt His satisfaction.

“I guess you got me there.”

“I can’t paint or draw, but I like admiring art. Ingesting the message and all.”

“You like admiring art, so you left Ireland and came here?”

“You’ve got to give America some credit. The Met, Chicago-” He stopped. “Did the accent give it away? Or was it a tall bald stick of a man?”

Mina turned red. He found it endearing. “There wasn’t much for me there.” Before she could even dare to ask, He taunted her, “Plus, the seasons, right?”

Mina narrowed her eyes and turned away, only to see a goofy-faced Nadine in mid-step. How can people be so damn light-footed?!

“Mina, you look amazing!” She gushed. She gave Mina a quick kiss on the cheek, then nudged her out of the way. “Sorry my dear, but time is literally money today. So scootch and go see Dee about the legalese. She’s upstairs.”

She rounded on Connor, “And you!”

He looked genuinely sheepish, and Mina’s chest lightened, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Yeah, exactly! Michelle is looking for you,” Nadine grabbed His hand, and her footsteps were rapid and sharp as they echoed in the ballroom. Oh, right. Michelle. Mina bit her lip and followed after them.


The room was filled with excitement. The camera stand was kicked out by Deidre’s vision, and replaced with an awkward Mina holding a heavy black mass. The lights were dimmed and focused on the platforms. Jonathan led two men and two women, named Thomas, Sid, Sasha, and Ann, down the stairs and through the masked crowd. The silence amplified each breath. Nadine carried a gold chest in her arms at the end of the line. The models took their place on the circular stages, varying in height, weight, and race, but all uniformed in black robes and blindfolds. The players of Salvation clapped, some whooped and whistled and cheered. The models smiled, and then disrobed. They were all naked except for their underwear.

“All right, pervs! Who’s ready to have some fun?” Jonathan yelled. The crowd rumbled. “Now, all of these delicious bitches are touchable, gropable, and spankable. We also have a few favors if you’re feeling particularly wicked.” Nadine set the chest down in the middle of the room. Inside, there were colorful feathers, some long and thin, some small and full. There were some random objects too: a wooden spoon, a fly swatter, a silver brush, rulers.

“But go easy on them, they have a long night ahead!” There was hearty laughing. Jon clapped his hands twice and the atmosphere changed. First, there was hesitation and whispering. Spectators rounded the platforms, slowly, curious of the human statues. Some were peering into the chest of toys, giggling over the feathers’ soft touch. Mina recorded the first brave soul stroking her finger down Sasha’s calf. Once the model settled, another reached cautious fingers to dip into the flesh of her waist. Someone tickled the back of her knee with his nails, causing her to giggle and squirm.

A long-haired vixen approached Ann and teased her butt with a long blue feather. Mina captured their smiles. A tall man with a bright red tie was massaging the naked model’s ass, and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.

Mina rounded on the four of them, taking focused pictures of their bodies. They stood tall and straight, but their muscles were relaxed. She felt a stirring in her core from all the exposed flesh. Mina cleared her throat, which was suddenly so dry. She heard a laugh that sounded like bells and turned, camera ready. Michelle’s blonde hair was brushed out and flowing full and free down her bare torso. Her arm was looped in Connor’s, who now wore a button up of the darkest red she’d ever seen, and black slacks with a matching belt. His hair was gelled and combed back, and she nearly melted right there. He caught her gaze, and she blushed with surprise. She snapped a picture of them gliding through the crowd, and then quickly looked away.

She was welcomed by the loud snap of a ruler on skin, the culprit Thomas, who had been ordered to get on all fours. The back of his thigh was growing red. The man repeated his strikes, perhaps eight or nine times, and after each hit, smoothed over the warm strips. The strikes varied in strength and anticipation, and the time in between was a random rhythm. The long rectangles of pink ran up and down his caramel back and legs. He petted his head, and they shared a laugh. Mina caught the moment.

It seemed like hours full of slow ecstasy, with everyone releasing what was hidden within. The man had taken his tie off, wrapped it around Ann’s neck, and tugged it on it playfully so it tightened. He pulled it forward and low, Ann obeying with a slight smile. He began leading her through the crowd, but kept his hand by his side so that her back hunched slightly and her ass poked out. The awkward walk was far from attractive, but it burned Mina from the inside out. He was careful to clear the way, but the patrons seemed to anticipate them, as they glided to open a path as soon as she stepped from the platform. Mina positioned her camera but lost them in the dark.

The night called to her like a siren, and Mina’s head was full of murky and naughty thoughts. The remaining models were now decorated with red stripes, scratches, and perspiration, and Mina had recorded each moan and sound of delight. How erotic it was, to touch while barely touching. To be intimate without intercourse, for their underwear had stayed on the whole time. Of course, it was on purpose. But she could smell the salt in the air, and she was growing hot under her white, thin dress. Deidre waved her to the door.

“It’s almost time to go downstairs, are you ready?” The goddess fixed her long earrings and pulled stubborn locks back into place.

“Downstairs?” Mina’s blood rushed.

“Yes, downstairs,” Deidre’s eyes narrowed, then widened. “Oh! We forgot to tell you! Well, there’s many a party to be had tonight, Mina. The clients are up here, yes, but the basement is the real destination.” She pointed to the corner of the room, and there was a faint crease in the wall that Mina hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s going to happen down there?”

“Well,” Deidre put her hands on her hips and smiled mischievously. “You’re just going to have to find out.”


The descent was inspired. The stairs weren’t creaky or old, and the walls weren’t made of old brick or stone. It was not some basement plucked from a B grade horror film, but rather a sturdy dark wood. Each step echoed, and when she finally hit the floor, it seemed to echo forever. Sasha stood in the middle of the room, without her blindfold. Her legs were shoulder width apart, and her ankles were secured with thick cushioned cuffs. Her bronze skin glistened, and Mina wondered how long she already stood in that position. She felt embarrassed, yet in wonder of the puff of her womanly mound.

Mina looked away quickly. Xolani and Connor were speaking in gestures and laughs on the other side. Ann was fully encased in the tall man’s arms, standing near the corner. She was covered with a dark blanket and seemed completely at ease. The man was whispering no doubt lovely things. Deidre was fussing over Sasha’s hair, making sure the black bun stayed tight. She then cleared her throat when she saw Mina.

“Gather!” Xo and Connor walked over, and they stood in completely different ways. Connor crossed His arms, and stood strong with His feet apart. Xo held his hands behind his back, but held the same authority. The unnamed Dom let go of Ann and they both came to stand with the group. “I expect your best behavior! There are important faces in attendance tonight. Sasha, my pet,” Deidre turned to the bound object of her affection and stroked her cheek. “Your safe word is mercy.”

“Yes, my Goddess,” Sasha nodded, her gaze on Deidre’s black heels. Mina was curious of who exactly was upstairs, but pushed it out of her mind when she noticed Connor’s eyes on her. It was so lustful, she felt a jolt from the earth, straight up her legs. He turned away, patting Xo on the shoulder before walking to an empty… wooden contraption, with three holes. Ann and her Dom followed and the two men spoke while the submissive ran her finger along a heavy black lock. Mina licked her lips, but her stomach jumped. What was that thing?

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