Memoirs of a s*x Toy

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He hadn’t said a word, and yet all eyes suddenly turned in his direction as if there was some precognition of the scene about to take place. Fritz, Raul and the Marine had been prompted not to say a word, but they were there to see eyes widen in wonder, in some cases horror, and hear gasps of shock from several females. Following closely behind their host was a woman, a beautiful woman, dressed in nothing but rope. Her breasts jutted obscenely from the stringent bondage tie, while more rope thread her crotch, making walking awkward and likely a painstaking process. To add to her humiliation, she’d been collared with a choke chain that was attached to the leash Maximus used to pull her along. Although she gazed at the scene with some apprehension, the relative poise she displayed during the unusual circumstances was remarkable.

The entire room was suddenly abuzz. The agitated stew of emotion could have cut with a knife.

“My god what is this!” one female guest finally broke the disturbing silence.

Another, speaking sharply: “Maximus, what have you done to this woman?”

And from his girlfriend Talia, speaking in a droll monotone: “My dear, I think perhaps you’ve gone too far this time.”

While several men looked quite pleased with this unexpected exhibition, they said little in face of the indignation expressed by the women in their company.

A tall brunette in a shocking blue dress suddenly rose from her chair. “Enough with this nonsense!” she blared as she moved in the direction of her host with pursed lips and eyes that flashed as coldly as the diamonds that dripped from her ears. She looked as if she’d challenge Maximus with a haughty tirade, but he rebuffed her before she could even begin.

“Susan, I doubt that this woman would care to have you champion her cause. She is a s*x slave by her own definition. So why shouldn’t I treat her this way.” He gazed around at his audience, expecting raised eyebrows, if not outright shock, while he appeared to enjoy every second of his guests’ alarmed response. He continued answering Susan’s fuming with a glib: “And don’t look so dazed. For heaven’s sake, women trade their bodies for all sorts of reasons these days, not the least of which is a honest desire to submit to a man. It may not seem very 21st century, but that is a reality I don’t think will be going away.”

“What do you mean she’s a s*x slave?”

“Ask her yourself, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t dare to ask a woman such a question. I cannot see why you would have her here now.”

Maximus moved forward, smiling grimly. “I could say that it was my intention to shock you… but her appearance here tonight is as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Since she seemed determined to crash my party, I thought it would be appropriate to introduce her. And you can’t tell me you’re all that shocked, my dear…” he leveled this comment directly at Susan, “I’ve seen you in some rather unusual situations.”

“That is not the point!” the irate woman snapped, blushing as she did.

“Well, as long as she’s not adverse to your display, Max, I find her rather intriguing.” The comment came from a svelte blonde wearing a silver, bejeweled dress, who rose from the loveseat with drink in hand and slowly strolled closer for a better look. She’d been the first to express her shock, but she seemed hardly ruffled now. “Tell us about her. You say she’s crashing the party?”

“About an hour ago she breached the perimeter. Travis and I nabbed her as soon as we found her, which was not all that difficult. Her one attempt to escape capture was meager at best. My guess is that she wanted to be found. She hardly put up a fight.”

“Certainly she didn’t come here looking like that?” Teetering on her five inch heels, the blonde waved her wine glass in a blowsy sort of way that suggested she was a little drunk; though she was not yet slurring her words.

“It was unfortunate that her clothes were torn rather badly as she climbed the wall. The binding seemed necessary, since she tried once to escape. Dispensing with the tattered clothes only made sense.”

“Only in your weird world,” Susan commented dryly.

A comment Maximus ignored, as he abruptly jerked the leash and ordered his captive to her hands and knees.

“Oh my!” The blonde in the silver dress laughed nervously as she stared down at the captive’s naked ass. “She’s been beaten?”

“Deservedly so,” Maximus returned. He gave the leash a swift yank. “Isn’t that correct, Chelsea?”

The question seemed to raise the apprehension in the room another degree and comments from guests ceased at that point. Even the svelte blonde in the silver dress moved away as Maximus stepped back from his captive and peered into her sultry brown eyes.

“Yes, sir,” came her clear response.

“At least we agree on that much. You have a good deal of explaining to do. Breaching the perimeter of my property like a thief in the night is not something I take lightly, especially from a sub female. These people are my friends; your sudden appearance has disturbed my evening and theirs. I exhibit you to them only so they understand why my attention has been diverted while they’ve enjoyed my hospitality.

“Although considering your criminal behavior, this little show is appropriate as well. And despite what you may have heard here to the contrary, the people in this room know my kink—some on a very personal level—and with few exceptions, I’m sure most have found your unplanned arrival fine entertainment.” His tone was almost viciously mocking. “No one can say that my parties lack spontaneity. For me, humiliating you like this is profoundly satisfying. But perhaps you already know that.”

There was a crispness in his delivery. No telling how much of the exhibited annoyance was real and how much was an act. But beyond any annoyance or judgment, feigned or otherwise, he seemed oddly disturbed, even a bit shaken, for a man known to greet any difficult situation with astounding composure. This came out subtlety, in the twitch of his jaw, an uncommon depth to his expressive eyes—a darkness reigned there that few would notice, one that seemed buoyed in the presence of his captive. Only those who knew him well, maybe two or three in the room, understood that this woman was not just another intruder, not just another fawning female with a romantic crush. In most situations, he would never bring a strange intruder into his home so attired. Nor would he make such a humiliating display of a captive.

But in Maximus Darrow’s eyes, Chelsea McLinden deserved every mortifying moment.