Chapter Text
Gideon’s dinner of a burger and fries churned dangerously in her stomach as she walked through the dark parking lot toward the warehouse. The lot was full of cars. She could see a few couples also making their way toward the door, a rectangle of yellow light opening and closing as they passed through. A few lingered by their own cars, putting finishing touches on their clothes: buckles in place, hankies flagging in the correct pocket, makeup perfect and ready to be ruined. Gideon, on the other hand, was dressed simply in a black ribbed tank top, almost-new belted black jeans, and her pair of seen-better-days Doc Martens. Basic butch, but it had seemed like the best option from her limited wardrobe.
Unlike everyone else, it seemed, Gideon was going stag to this party. She was new in town and had never attended something like this. She jiggled her keys on her belt loop as she waited in line behind what seemed to her to be just a couple of kids. (They couldn’t be 18, could they? They were so young. Or maybe she had just gotten older.) Truth be told, though, she hadn’t explored this side of herself since college. Ever since—
“May I see your ticket and ID, please?”
Gideon was startled out of her memories by the request of the security volunteer at the door. “Uh… yeah! Umm.” She fumbled for her wallet and the printout of her invite. Tugging her ID out of her wallet (she’d have to update her address now that she’d moved again), she presented both to the door woman, taking her in for the first time.
As the astoundingly large woman reached over to take her ID and ticket, Gideon noted her muscles rippling under the skin of her forearms like snakes. Gideon was in great shape and she knew it, but this woman was a study in bodybuilding. Her calm eyes looked over Gideon’s papers and handed them back with a nod.
“Thank you. No phone use in the play rooms, and no pictures. Smoking on the patio only. No breath play. No food play. No wax play. Clean up your fluids. Enjoy your night,” the woman said, giving her a smile as she opened the door for Gideon to enter.
A sudden wave of anxiety flowed across Gideon and she almost turned around. She could still leave and have a great evening at home. A little porn. A hot cocoa. She could make a night of it. Never mind the cover fee she had already paid.
As she stood hesitating, the door woman looked at her in slight concern. “Hey, you OK?”
Gideon took a deep breath and nodded, blushing as she jammed her wallet and ticket back into her pocket.
“Uh, yup! Yup! Just fine! Yes, just fine, thanks,” Gideon rambled, quickly stepping through the door and spinning around in a flustered circle. “Th—thank you!”
The woman chuckled and gave a salute, already turning away to face the next partygoers in line.
The door closed with a definitive clunk, leaving Gideon in a dim stairwell. Signs pointed her up the stairs, but she didn’t need them. Not only was there nowhere else to go, but she could hear the driving beat of the music coming from the floor above.
Like ripping off a band-aid, she took a steadying breath and bounded up the stairs two at a time.
In Gideon’s mind she had imagined cold stone walls, deep creepy shadows, and suspicious lurking folk at a BDSM fetish party, so she was surprised when she stepped into a cozy, warmly-lit space only slightly bigger than her studio apartment. Tables had been set out with snacks upon snacks and bottles of water, and couches lined nearly every wall, offering soft places to sit and chat. The light was dim like in a bar, and groups of people milled about, talking and laughing in an undertone. Two darkened halls led out of the room, one straight ahead and one to the right. Gideon wasn’t quite ready for that yet. To the left, a sliding glass door was cracked open to an outdoor patio, and the smell of cigar smoke faintly trickled through. She could see some people standing while others were on their knees, but it was too dark to see what, if anything, was happening. Only the glowing ends of the cigars were visible, moving like massive fireflies in the night as their smokers gestured with their hands.
On the far side of the room, an unattended table was laid to sell various toys and other paraphernalia. Gideon’s eyes skipped over dildos, floggers, gags, and medical equipment, and finally landed on a hood-like dog mask in orange and black neoprene. She took a step forward to investigate closer when she was assaulted in the face by a huge, soft, bouncing set of tits.
“Oh my god! Ianthe! Don’t push,” said the curvaceous woman attached to the tits, but she made no move to step back, leaving her breasts pressed to Gideon’s chest. “I’m ever so sorry about that. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Coronabeth and this—” she gestured behind her— “is my sister Ianthe.”
Gideon leaned to the left past Coronabeth’s broad shoulders and flowing hair to see someone frantically typing something on her phone. If Corona was big and beautiful, Ianthe was a beanpole only a mother could love. The glow of the screen was doing her pallid skin no favors. She glanced up, gave Gideon a once-over, and immediately sneered, obviously not impressed by what she saw. Gideon sneered right back and leaned back over into Coronabeth’s aura. She realized the woman’s breasts were still pressed to her chest and she took a step back, heat climbing up her cheeks to her hairline.
“Hi. Gideon,” she managed, holding out a hand.
Coronabeth ignored the proffered handshake and pulled Gideon in for a very strong and plush hug, trapping Gideon’s hand between their two bodies. Gideon blinked in shock over broad shoulders—right into the piercing gaze of Ianthe glaring daggers into her soul. Coronabeth’s hands smoothed over Gideon’s muscled back in appreciation. When they started to drift lower, Gideon pulled back quickly again. She was sure that even her hair was blushing.
“OK! Yup. Good to meet you. Meet you both, I—I mean.”
But when Gideon glanced back up at Coronabeth, her breath caught dead in her throat. Gone was the warm and welcoming gaze from the radiant Valkyrie of a woman. It had been replaced with a hungry look, her eyes raking up and down Gideon’s tall form. Ianthe slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped up beside Coronabeth, laying a long limb across her shoulders, hand lying on her chest as if it belonged there. Coronabeth reached up, as if without thought, and held that hand in her own.
“Are you here all by your lonesome tonight… Gideon?” Ianthe asked in a bored drawl, also taking stock of Gideon. Unlike her sister, who looked upon her with sensual hunger, Ianthe looked at her as one would examine a horse for sale.
Gideon realized she was being hunted.
Anxiety thrilled up her spine while a jolt of lust shot down into her pelvis. Gideon’s eyes bounced between two sets of violet, watching as each sister appraised her muscular body like a beefcake buffet. Gideon was fully clothed, but the way Coronabeth and Ianthe looked at her, she might as well have been naked.
“Oh, you know,” Gideon said, smiling lopsidedly and glancing away to anything safer than Coronabeth’s massive, flagrantly displayed tits. “Just checking it out. Seeing what the vibe is.”
“Well, what do you think?” Coronabeth asked.
Gideon could feel sweat start to tickle the back of her neck. “It’s… hot. Hot in here!” she quickly corrected.
Coronabeth smiled a knowing smile, stepping even closer. She reached out to stroke Gideon’s cheek with her fingertips, and Ianthe mirrored her movements exactly. Teasing touches trailed down Gideon’s left cheek while sharp and promising nails dragged down her right.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gideon,” Coronabeth said. Her fingers trailed down Gideon’s throat and between her breasts to flick playfully at her stomach through her tank top.
“Woah! Hey—”
But before she could spit so much as a single “Fuck,” the sisters had turned to leave: Gideon had been dismissed. As they passed, a hand groped Gideon’s ass ruthlessly in a thin, iron grip. Gideon yelped and swatted at the hand (so scrawny, it had to be Ianthe’s), but it had already pulled away. As the twins disappeared down the hallway, Gideon felt something in her back pocket. She fumbled for it and pulled out what looked like a business card. It advertised Coronabeth Tridentarius, the “Crown Jewel” of OnlyFans, with a picture that was just shy of illicit, but very true to the woman Gideon had just met. On the back was a web address with “Camgirl of Ianthe Tridentarius” printed underneath.
She squinted at the card in her hand, shook her head, and moved toward the sliding glass door to step out onto the balcony. That had been the plan, anyway. What happened was she tripped ass over teakettle right into the lap of a waifish-looking woman in a wheelchair.
“Fucking shit! I am so, so sorry!” Gideon exclaimed in a panic, trying desperately to right the two of them. The other woman laughed delightedly and held herself steady.
“Fuck, I— are you OK?” As she stood up straight, she took in the beauty of the woman, who was now stifling her murmured laughter with slender fingers over her mouth.
“Oh, I’m just fine,” she said. Gideon’s gaze fell to her blood-red lips, which were curved into a sweet smile. Her blue eyes held Gideon in place where she stood, half-bent over her chair. “But you can make it up to me, if you really want to, by helpin’ me back to my table?” She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure it would be easy for someone like you with such big, strong arms.”
Gideon gaped for a moment, but gathered herself and stood up straight. “Of course. Yeah. Totally.” Trying her best to ignore her chronic blush, she positioned herself behind the woman’s chair and followed her graceful indication to deposit her beside the vendor table across the room.
“Well, thank you so much…” The woman held out her hand to be shaken in a languid gesture.
“Oh. Yeah. Gideon. My name is Gideon.”
Her own hand felt huge and square around those slender fingers. But instead of shaking it, the woman brought it up to her mouth and ghosted those red lips flirtatiously over Gideon’s knuckles. “Dulcinea.”
Gideon’s knees went all wibbly-wobbly. “I, uh… I like your nails.” She cleared her throat. “Um, I mean your manicure.”
Dulcinea smiled again with a touch of mischief. “Why, thank you, sweetheart. Why don’t you keep me company for a little while? I saw you talkin’ with the Tridentarii. They sure are somethin’, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Gideon said, sitting on an empty folding chair next to the table. “I haven’t been to one of these parties before. I’m so... nervous.”
Dulcinea rolled herself closer and tapped Gideon on the thigh. “What? A big ol’ hunk of handsome like you?”
Gideon’s stomach fluttered at both the compliment and the touch, and she ducked her head. “You might be surprised. Uh… I’ve only ever done anything like this with my… my ex. And that was back in college, you know? Just us messing around in the dorm rooms. This—” she waved her hand around to indicate the party— “is more than I really expected. I thought maybe it might be like… like picking up someone from a bar, or something?”
Dulcinea laughed lightly, looking around the room at the couples in varying stages of discussion tucked into the corner of the couches or clustered around the cocktail tables.
“It can be like picking someone up in a bar in some ways,” she said mildly. “But I suppose it depends on what bar you go to.”
Gideon couldn’t keep herself from smiling. “Not any bar I’ve ever been to.”
There was a moment of friendly silence while they both sat and watched the room.
“I’m really sorry I ran you over,” Gideon said with a small, apologetic smile.
“It’s all right. It was an accident, after all.” Dulcinea glanced at her. “And quite a happy one, if y’ask me.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
Dulcinea laughed in genuine delight, and Gideon’s smile turned into a grin.
“So, um,” Gideon continued, “are you here on your own too?”
Dulcinea spread her arms to indicate her table, which was strewn with toys of all varieties. “I’m here to provide whatever might be needed to make a night more enjoyable.”
Her interest piqued, Gideon took in the merchandise again with fresh eyes: dildos, strap-on harnesses, vibrators, gags, medical supplies, cigars, lube, handcuffs, chains, rope, and a number of items she couldn’t place.
Dulcinea continued, “What happens if you plan out your scene and your wand breaks, or you forgot your needle kit at home, or your cigar got wet? Well, I’ll tell you what happens, my lovely. Me. I happen. I happen to be here with exactly what you need. I take cash, check, card, and digital forms of payment with a discreet bill to wrap it all up in a neat little bow.”
“That’s a hell of a service.”
“I live to serve,” Dulcinea said, winking. “It feels good to be needed, and to fulfill a need. I have a feeling you might know what I’m talking about?”
Gideon remembered the feeling of the floor under her knees, her neck craning to look up at— “Yeah,” she said, slowly nodding. “Yeah, I do know what you mean.” She shook off the memory and glanced at Dulcinea with her best ten-dollar grin. “So… what do you think I need?”
Dulcinea leveled a look back at her that was laced with a teasing smile. “Well, we’ve only just met,” she said, “but my initial impression is that perhaps you like to serve?”
Gideon laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“I thought so.” Her hand floated up and dusted lightly over the surface of her wares. “So eager to please. So very helpful. So strong and handsome…”
Her hand drifted over a strap-on harness and Gideon’s mind supplied an image of her using it to pleasure her partner… whoever that might be.
“Or maybe somethin’ more…” Dulcinea’s hands moved to a flogger and Gideon pictured herself on the other end of those long, supple leather strips, an unknown dominant keeping the pressure on.
“Or maybe you’re feelin’ a little in your own head?” Her hand moved to hover over the orange-and-black dog mask that had caught Gideon’s interest earlier. “Maybe you need to put yourself away for a little while and let out a different inner power?”
A vision rose before Gideon’s eyes of herself kneeling on all fours, following her strong upright partner at heel, resting her face against a warm thigh. No thinking. Just doing. She hadn’t intended on purchasing anything tonight, but wouldn’t you know it? The color matched her underwear. It was meant to be. With half-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips, she nodded weakly, already reaching for her wallet.
“Yeah… actually. Yeah! I’d—I’d like that… uh, please.”
Dulcinea’s lips curved into a brilliant smile and she pressed the hood into Gideon’s hand, disregarding the folded twenties that Gideon had extended.
“Tell you what, handsome. First one is free. Call it a ‘welcome to our community’ gift.”
“Oh, no. No! No, I couldn’t—”
But Dulcinea wasn’t having any of it. She reached over and slipped her fingers into the short hair at the back of Gideon’s head, giving her time to pull away if she wished.
“Tonight, your money’s no good here. But your lips… Those could cover any cost you feel you owe.” She scratched lightly at the nape of Gideon’s neck and Gideon shivered. “Is that a currency you feel you can part with?”
A nervous, dopey smile splashed across Gideon’s face. “Uhh…” She was sure she was brick-red, and practically shaking with excitement. Not only could she part with a smooch or two, but if Dulcinea asked, she would make it rain kisses like dollar bills at a titty bar.
Dulcinea pulled her closer, their mouths a breath apart.
“I wanna hear you say ‘Yes’,” Dulcinea whispered against Gideon’s lips.
Gideon shuddered, a thrill streaking up her spine. “Yes.” She closed the distance slowly, hesitantly, her eyes fluttering shut.
Dulcinea’s lips moved over hers, tender and eager, and her blood-red nails tickled Gideon’s neck. The feeling sent an electric pang all through Gideon’s body. She could feel her nipples hardening under her shirt at the touch. She couldn’t help it. She moaned against Dulcinea’s mouth.
Dulcinea laughed softly and pulled away. “Oh, poor pup. You’re all kinds of tangled up tonight, ain’tcha?”
“Uhh…” Gideon agreed, eyes struggling to focus. A deep breath helped ground her in reality a bit, but not much. She was still dazed enough that, when two people appeared at Dulcinea’s table a moment later, their presence made her jump in surprise.
“Good evening, Lady Septimus,” said a lanky man in a medical-green latex nurse dress, complete with a matching cap. He was holding hands with a woman dressed in blue cotton scrubs, her brown hair cut into an aggressive bob, who lifted her chin in a stoic greeting.
Dulcinea glowed to life and reached out to give them both enthusiastic hugs. “Oh! Pal, angel! And my sweet Cam! Oh, it’s so lovely to see you both. I’ve missed you terribly!”
As Dulcinea gave each a quick kiss, Cam said with a slight smile, “It’s only been ninety minutes, Dulcie.”
Dulcinea waved this remark away before remembering Gideon. “Oh, where are my manners?” She drew Gideon forward. “This is Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect.”
“Like ‘wrecked’,” Camilla supplied.
“Gideon,” Gideon said, smiling hesitantly with a rock in her stomach. Were they all, like, together? Had they seen her kissing Dulcinea?
Palamedes stuck out his hand in greeting, flashing Gideon a charmingly teeth-askew grin. “Good to make your acquaintance, Gideon. I see you’ve met our Dulcie here. Isn’t she grand?” His crystal-grey eyes shone through his glasses.
“Uh, yup.” Gideon accepted the handshake, mortified. “Totally.”
While Gideon’s hand was pumped by the weirdly enthusiastic Palamedes, Camilla reached out toward Gideon’s jaw.
“May I?”
Confused, Gideon nodded, but when Camilla wiped a smear of lipstick off Gideon’s lower lip with her thumb, understanding and embarrassment crashed down on her. “Oh fuck. I’m—I’m so sorry—” she started, pulling the bottom of her tank top up and scrubbing viciously at her lips, but she was silenced by Dulcinea’s chiming laugh and Camilla’s almost-smile.
“Sorry about what, Gideon?” Dulcinea teased. “You look beautiful in red.” She giggled dreamily as Camilla leaned over for a kiss of her own and came away with a smear of red on her own lips.
“She’s delicious,” Camilla said matter-of-factly. “Perhaps I was just envious.”
“I think you may mean jealous?” Palamedes offered, holding up a finger.
Cam shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
Dulcinea, still effervescent, looked between the two of them. “Both of you are in a good mood tonight, it would seem!”
“Of course we’re in a good mood! We—”
“We’re high,” inserted Cam. She pulled down the neckline of her scrubs to show a big round adhesive bandage on her chest that said “Press me” on it in Sharpie. Palamedes proudly pulled the neck of his green dress down to show his own bandage reading “Poke me.”
“Cool,” Gideon said, failing to keep up.
“They’re buttons,” Dulcinea explained, guiding Camilla and Palamedes by the hand to kneel before her. “Under each bandage is a group of needles that have been passed through the skin.”
“Like a safety pin,” Palamedes supplied.
“Yes,” said Dulcinea, with a fond stroke on Palamedes’ cheek. “Like a safety pin. Once the needles are placed, they are covered with a bandage and then all one has to do is simply…” She reached over and gently but firmly pressed both their buttons. Camilla and Palamedes both tensed before sighing and leaning against each other in momentary bliss.
“Endorphin rush,” said Camilla, slurring a bit.
Gideon had never heard of buttons or even considered fooling around with needles for fun. But her only experience had been with her ex, and they had been young and stupid. Something about it was intriguing, though, and her eyes were still fixed on Palamedes’ dress, where another button made a bump under the fabric. “Isn’t it a lot to take?” she asked.
“It is quite the experience setting them up, and a whole different experience altogether to wear them, and yet another very different experience taking them out,” said Palamedes.
“Uhh…”
“It does hurt,” Camilla said, standing and offering Palamedes her hand. “But the reward is worth it.”
Palamedes rose as well and puffed out his chest before Gideon, green latex stretching across the button. “Go on, Gideon. Give us a poke.”
Gideon hesitated a moment, eyebrows lifting in thought, but shrugged to herself and pressed the hidden clump of needles. Palamedes’ knees went weak, but he recovered his shaky descent with a comical curtsy, and Camilla moved to his side as he rose. Gideon returned his curtsy with a bow of her own, laughing.
“Just so,” Palamedes concluded, a little shaky.
“Gideon just got a brand new pup hood,” supplied Dulcinea in a bright voice, “and is very eager to show it off!”
Gideon froze as she was thrown face-first under the spotlight. She’d had nightmares like this, except in those she was naked. The trio were all smiling at her expectantly. She looked down to the orange-and-black pup hood in her hands, then back up.
“I’ve never worn one, but it seemed… nice,” she finished lamely.
Camilla briskly stepped forward, her grey eyes sharp and sure. “May I?” she asked, holding out her hand for the hood. If anyone she’d ever met looked like they knew what they were doing, it was Camilla Hect. Gideon handed it over. Camilla inspected the mask for a moment before pointing to the chin portion.
“Put your chin here. Pull it on the rest of the way.”
Gideon took the hood and shuffled it around in her hands for a moment before doing as instructed. The hood was tight. It pressed into her nose and mouth. She couldn’t see. The sound of Dulcinea’s beautiful laugh was muffled in her ears.
“You have it on sideways,” Camilla’s voice said. Then a pair of strong, confident hands were tugging and twisting the hood into place. Suddenly, the pressure on the bridge of her nose lifted, she could breathe again, and the eye holes let her look out over the room.
“Oops. Thanks.”
The three figures leaned back to look Gideon up and down. Gideon waited with held breath for their judgment, a pit in her stomach.
“Gideon,” Dulcinea said with a fascinated smile. “You look…”
“Fucking hot,” Camilla supplied simply.
“I concur,” murmured Palamedes.
And instead of the compliments embarrassing her, they felt right. Gideon, feeling oddly proud in her new hood, straightened and rolled her shoulders back. “The pressure of it on my head feels good,” she tried to say, but the words were lost in the mask and the din of the room.
“Come again?” Palamedes asked.
She repeated herself a bit louder. Perhaps talking wasn’t the way to go in this getup.
Camilla locked knowing eyes with Gideon’s own, and a smile twitched momentarily at the corner of her mouth. “Does it feel comforting? Calming? Safe?” she asked, even as Gideon was nodding.
“Yeah! Yes, exactly.”
“Cam here is a pup too, sometimes,” Palamedes explained, gazing fondly at her with his head tipped to the side. “She’s the cutest little-wittle, barky baby pu—oh!” He exclaimed as Cam pushed his button.
“Woof,” said Camilla.
Dulcinea laughed cheerfully at Palamedes’ misfortune and turned to Gideon. “All right, then. Let’s give Gideon here a chance to test out her new pup self among friends.”
Gideon’s heart did a little skip in her chest and she shifted from foot to foot with excitement. Friends! Almost as if by instinct, her head tipped to the side like a curious dog’s might, and Dulcinea reached up to scritch it. Gideon had to take a knee at her feet so she could reach.
Dulcinea’s hand smoothed over the tight neoprene where it pressed against her head. The shuffling noise of each affectionate pet echoed in her ears, making her shudder. In a strange way, she was beginning to realize that the pressure and the feeling of safety that came with wearing the tight hood also seemed to take away her speech. It wasn’t that she couldn’t say anything if she really wanted to; she had just stopped wanting to.
“Come here, you beautiful thing,” Dulcinea murmured. “Would you like to be our friend?” One hand played with the dog ears that stood up on top of Gideon’s head, while the other gestured to Palamedes and Camilla. Gideon nodded emphatically, and was rewarded with that clear laugh and more pets. “Oh, wonderful!”
“Splendid!” Palamedes crowed, taking a seat in Gideon’s unused chair and crossing his knees modestly in the skintight latex. Camilla took a position beside him. Her smile at Gideon was amused and approving.
Gideon felt a warm fuzzy feeling expanding in her chest. After college, she’d traveled around, trying to find the place where she fit, getting odd jobs here and there. She hadn’t had many friends aside from work colleagues and the occasional hook-up. It was sudden and jarring to be yanked into this group of people who were obviously so comfortable with each other, but the temptation of wanting to belong was powerful.
After a moment, Camilla’s hand joined Dulcinea’s on her hooded head, and Cam lifted Gideon’s chin to look her in the eye. Dulcinea pulled away with a giggle. “She’s all yours, Cam darling.”
“Welcome to our group, pup,” said Cam, and Gideon was brought up short by her suddenly serious gaze. “Let’s see what you know.”
Gideon felt a pang of anxiety shoot through her. She didn’t know there would be a pop quiz. She hadn’t even studied!
“Sit.”
Gideon stared at Camilla, processing the word and recontextualizing it for her current doggy existence. At the command, she had moved to sit cross-legged on the ground, but now she shifted her position into a kneel, sitting back on her heels, hands flat on the floor in front of her. She looked up to Camilla to see if she had done well.
Camilla judged her body position. “Rest your weight on your knuckles instead of your palms.”
Gideon made the adjustment, relieving the strain in her wrists and opening her chest up. Cam really did know what she was doing.
“Good.”
Gideon wiggled at the praise.
“Lie down.”
Now hip to the game, Gideon lowered herself to her stomach on the floor, eyes still fixed to Camilla, who graced her with a nod of approval.
“Roll over.”
She rolled to her back, her hands and feet coming up in a canine-like position. From somewhere above her, Palamedes chuckled, obviously enjoying the show, and Gideon grinned behind her mask, eyes sparkling back at him.
“Good puppy. Now sit pretty for me again.”
Gideon sat pretty: knuckles to the floor, chest out, weight on her knees and the toes of her boots.
“Very good,” Cam said, a twinkle in her eye. “Now beg.”
It only took a second for Gideon to figure out what she meant and sit up on her heels, pawing at the air like a dog asking for a piece of turkey dinner.
“Beg harder.” Her tone was unimpressed.
Reflexively, Gideon shrank a little and whined in remorse as a spike of panic flicked through her chest. What did she do wrong? Was she a bad dog? But Camilla’s stern expression had already dropped, and she knelt and descended upon Gideon with pets and reassurance.
“No, no. You’re a good pup, aren’t you?” she said in a low voice. “Good job, puppy.”
With Cam’s quiet words, the knot around Gideon’s chest loosened and fell away. She found herself tearing up without understanding why. Her head leaned into Camilla’s hand and a grateful rumble rose in her throat.
As Camilla rubbed Gideon’s back, she murmured, almost to herself, “It’s easy to slip into, isn’t it? To think only of the body and how it feels? To stop thinking in words and start thinking in actions.” The low, hypnotic murmur of her voice swelled within Gideon, who huffed in agreement and leaned into the warmth of her body. Her head felt big and heavy resting in Cam’s strong hands.
“Those amber eyes… so striking,” Palamedes observed quietly from behind Cam’s shoulder. “Camilla, have you ever seen a puppy with gorgeous eyes like that? She looks more like a lion.”
“Mm.” Cam’s gaze ran her over from top to toe. “No, this one is definitely a pup.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed naughtily and she leaned forward, booping Cam’s button on her chest with her nose. Cam let out a gasp, and the other two laughed. “It would seem there is some sass in our ‘very good pup’,” Palamedes drawled, pushing his glasses further up his nose with a long finger.
Gideon wiggled in delight and sat back on her heels, knuckles pressed to the floor, waiting for her next command. Dulcinea was next, but she didn’t give a command: she just reached out to draw Gideon’s head into her lap, stroking her head through her hood with those pale hands. Gideon’s eyes fell closed, and she stretched and arched into the sensation with a deep sigh of contentment. She missed this. She missed being touched so much.
“Our shift is coming up soon,” she could hear Palamedes say over her head. He said a couple other things, too, but Gideon’s head and neck were being scritched ever-so-delicately by long red nails, and she really just couldn’t care less about anything else going on.
“Gideon hasn’t been here before,” Dulcinea responded. “Would you be such a dear and show her around before your shift? Do you have time?”
Gentle hands stopped their stroking and turned her head upward.
“Sweet puppy.”
Gideon opened her eyes obediently to see Dulcie smiling down at her.
“Would you like Cam and Pal to show you around the dungeon?”
Actually, she never wanted to leave this lap, thank you very much. But she remembered the strength in Cam’s arms wrapped around her, and the cleverness in Pal’s grey eyes, and thought that a tour given by someone she felt comfortable with would be easier than stalking around on her own. Those shady-ass Tridentarii twins might still be lurking somewhere, after all. She wuffed in agreement.
“Does that mean yes, you do want to look around?”
Gideon nodded. Cam and Pal were already on their feet. Cam offered Gideon a hand up and Gideon, still in dog mode, lifted her own “paw” for a shake.
A tick of a surprised smile pulled at Cam’s lips as she shook Gideon’s paw. “Good shake, Gideon.”
Gideon beamed.
“Now, would you like to walk on two feet or four for this tour?”
Gideon looked down at her hands and knees on the floor. The thought of crawling around after Cam and Pal filled her with a thrill of embarrassment that tickled her guts, but her knees were already a little sore from kneeling. She would have to save that idea for later.
As she stood to her full height, rolling her shoulders, she was more than a little smug to find three sets of eyes on her and three mouths agape. Obviously the extra delt flies were working.
“Wow,” Dulcie murmured, and Cam and Pal nodded in agreement.
Gideon growled playfully in response and winked at Dulcie, who actually blushed.
“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Pal piped, slipping his arm through Gideon’s and leading her around the toy table and into one of the darkened hallways. Moans and shrieks of pleasure and the steady slap of impact implements echoed out of the dungeons toward her.
“As you will see,” Pal said, going into full tour-guide mode with no further ado, “this building used to be full of small offices, each with a window to the hall. The windows are one-way mirrors, so if you are in the room, you have a mirror and a façade of privacy, and if you are out here...” Palamedes gestured to the hall with his free hand. “Then you have an excellent view of the scenes taking place. Since Cam and I volunteer to be DMs—”
“Dungeon Monitors,” Cam supplied, flanking Palamedes.
“Yes. Quite right. I apologize for the jargon. Dungeon Monitors walk through the event and keep an eye out to make sure all regulations are being followed and no one is in real danger to themselves or others. The mirrored windows make that easy.”
At that, Gideon peered through the closest window, intrigued.
She saw the two young teens that had stood ahead of her in the entrance line. The girl, in a schoolgirl skirt, was tied to a St. Andrew’s cross. Her shirt had been removed and her brown hair tied up out of the way. Her plethora of ear piercings glinted in the low light as the boy, also shirtless and wearing a pair of ripped jeans, swung a flogger this way and that across her muscled back. His mohawk was beginning to droop with his exertions. They both looked to be all knees and elbows. What a dorky pair, but at least they seemed to be having fun.
Pal took a moment to survey the scene and, seeing nothing amiss, moved on down the hall, Gideon and Cam in tow.
The next room held two women, both in marine fatigues with identical hairstyles tucked into a neat club at the base of their necks. Upon seeing them, Cam said “Hmm!”, and Pal took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh.
“That,” he whispered, although Gideon was sure his voice wouldn’t carry through either the window or the closed door of the office-turned-playroom, “is ‘the Captain’ and ‘the Lieutenant.’ They’re both rough players, ‘roommates,’ and frankly a bit intense. Quite fit, though.”
The Captain leaned closer and shouted directly into the Lieutenant’s face. The Lieutenant didn’t so much as twitch. She stood at attention, solid as a piece of carved marble. There was a tense moment where the Captain abruptly stopped berating her and seemed to notice how close her lips were to the other woman’s. She paused, eyes flicking down to those lips, chest heaving, leaning closer.
Gideon found herself holding her breath. She, Cam, and Pal all leaned closer to the glass in anticipation for the kiss to follow.
There was none. The Captain seemed to snap back to herself and, with a violent shake of her head, grabbed the Lieutenant’s jacket front, slammed her up against the wall, and resumed screaming into her face. The Lieutenant didn’t fight back. She was rapidly manhandled and thrown to the floor as the Captain barked orders at her back. As the Lieutenant started on a quick series of pushups, the Captain pressed down onto her back with a booted foot. Though the pace of the exercise slowed, the pushups did not stop. The Lieutenant’s arms shook against the strain, but she was not deterred. The Captain bit her lip at the sight and squeezed her own breast through her shirt.
“These two seem to have everything well enough in hand,” Palamedes stage-whispered. “Onward we go!”
As the three continued down the hall, Cam leaned into Palamedes’ side. “Your ass looks great in that dress, Warden.”
He gave a little start as she cupped and squeezed the aforementioned cheek, and blushed deeply. “Oh! Well. Your admiration is appreciated and reciprocated, Scholar.”
Gideon tilted her head.
“Our scene names,” Camilla explained.
It was then that Gideon noticed that both Pal and Cam had name tags on saying just that. Gideon must have missed the table with the name tags. She didn’t have a scene name, so she guessed she would have just written “Gideon” on hers anyway.
In the next room, two men were locked in a clinch. The younger of the two, whose white hair was pulled back into a tight braid, stood behind his partner, a grizzled older man with short-cropped light brown hair. The older man was on his knees, hands limp at his side, eyes rolling back in his head, as the younger squeezed him in a chokehold. The older man was losing his fight with consciousness, but his top showed no signs of letting up. His pale-ass arm tightened around his partner’s throat. They both sported raging boners that tented their pants.
Pal sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose before knocking twice in quick succession and opening the door. “Master Silas. A word, please.”
The younger man looked up at Palamedes with annoyance and released the older man, who fell to his hands and knees, pulling in deep lungfuls of air.
Cam turned. “Gideon, we have to deal with this. The rules say no breath play. Go back up and see Dulcie—we’ll meet you there.”
Gideon nodded, taking one last look at the two men in the room before turning toward the brighter light of the gathering space where Dulcie’s table was set up. She moved slowly down the dark hall, looking in the windows as she went.
The Captain now had the Lieutenant on her stomach, licking her boots. As the Captain watched, her hips shifted of their own accord. Hot. The way-too-young boy with the mohawk was pressed up against the girl strapped to the St. Andrew’s cross, his hand wrapped around her front, his face buried in her neck. Nice.
But the sight that greeted Gideon as she turned away from the window made her stop dead. Her stomach dropped in shock.
Harrowhark fucking Nonagesimus.