Page 7 of Enthrall Ecstasy
Time with someone like her was the escape everyone craved.
Finally, it was happening.
I’m here.
In this exclusive ballroom, drenched in a soft blue light that exuded a calming hue, I stood with my heart racing, my skin warm and clammy. I’d wanted nothing more than to gain entry and have all of this attention, but now I was having doubts.
It wasn’t like I’d not prepared for this. I’d spent endless hours refining my talent as a submissive at Majestic.
Just breathe.
Faulkner won’t let just anyone have me. He’d promised nothing but pleasure when he’d convinced me to sneak out of Majestic for the evening.
Placing my trust in him was all I could do in this moment.
Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” imbued an erotic sophistication to the setting—the mixture of colognes and perfumes bringing a potent richness to the air.
As Master Faulkner lifted off my blue satin robe, his fingers brushed my skin as it fell away, the material gliding to the floor and pooling behind me, exposing my scant bodice and heels.
Panties were forbidden, a dark secret we all knew. We were to remain accessible.
First hearing this had given me a rush. Back when all this had merely been a fantasy.
Reality. So very different.
My tight leather collar felt suffocating. There were too many people. Hundreds of hungry stares from behind masquerade masks, mostly men with a few women present. Female guests dressed scantily to complement the hedonistic mood. At least I wasn’t alone in exposing my sexuality.
The exhilaration of finally being here made me tremble.
This, the ultimate debut.
I’m ready.
Even if I have doubts.
I’d been warned at times it might become overwhelming.
Like now.
I’d proven subservient and willing to be a good submissive, attending every session. I had excelled in all that was asked of me and studied the erotic literature given to me.
Back at Majestic, I’d spent hours with Faulkner discussing my limits and pushing through a few of them, seen the pride in him when he’d guided me through riskier play.
I’d excelled to such an extent I’d been brought here after completing just one week of training with him.
Even now, Master Faulkner remained watchful of my every move.
There were five of us, all brought in from different houses. We’d been briefed for tonight’s soiree, dressed differently in elegant bodices to reveal our uniqueness: Brunettes and blondes and me, the redhead, who stood out.
Men were often drawn to my titian hair. This masquerade mask hid freckles that made me appear younger than twenty-three. I’d grown to love them—even though I’d once been bullied for looking different.
I’d developed a sense of my own beauty and uniqueness. That is where my beauty lay. Not in what society demanded of me with its cookie cutter ideals but with how I rose to the challenge of loving myself entirely.
Looking out at the array of gentlemen in classical masquerade masks, all of them seemingly fit beneath their expensive suits, I wondered which one I would be with tonight.
I had always been about the pleasure, the endless arousal that flowed with a session.
In less than five minutes, I could be with any one of them. Given to a master for the night for his pleasure.
