Page 50 of Enthrall Shadows
“I painted often when I was in Big Bear. I’ve worked on some smaller pieces since, but when I moved to L. A., everything in my life was packed up—including my brushes.”
“No one shared that with me,” she said earnestly. “We’re both allowed to be artists.”
“How long?”
“I’ve drawn and painted since I was in school,” she admitted. “Some of my work hangs at Enthrall.”
“Favorite artist?”
She lit up with joy. “William-Adolphe Bouguereau. You?”
“Same. I mean, I’m a fan of his work. I’m also drawn to Rothko.”
I watched as a half-naked subservient strolled elegantly by our table, led through the dining room on a chain by a tall gentleman in a dark suit. The blonde was being escorted to a table of guests.
“You don’t see that every day,” I whispered.
The vision was mesmerizing.
I’d only glimpsed a scene like this once before—last Friday at Chrysalis. There had been wall-to-wall beauties in another part of this great house where the visual display of servitude unfolded spectacularly.
Lotte was staring at me.
The voluptuous young woman with large breasts obediently followed the orders given by her master. A crisscross of latex adorned her figure, her lace underwear a touch of normality.
The only normal thing about this scene.
Staff appeared out of nowhere.
The central dining table was cleared of all cutlery, plates and glasses, leaving only the table linen shimmering white beneath the dimmed lights. The striking couple seated there pushed up from their seats, their expressions surprisingly calm.
Obediently, the sub sat on the edge of their table and laid back flat against the surface, her plump legs splayed, not caring that the entire restaurant was observing her.
A stark quiet had fallen over the regal dining room.
I shot a wary glance at Lotte and saw defiance reflected in her demeanor.This is her world.
If I pushed aside my preconceived attitude, I could understand the remarkable nature of what was unfolding close to our table.
But I felt self-conscious, even though no one noticed me.
I sat back.
The confident Dom eased his sub’s thighs apart, offering what lay between. The couple had circled the table and now stood before her.
I took a swig of my drink and then put it down.
The couple’s fine-dining experience was morphing into a salacious event. Both were enjoying taking turns performing oral sex on the chained blonde, devouring her pussy with a frenzied passion. Their willing victim writhed with pleasure, arching her back, her moans rising into a cry for more.
The live action scene was poetic and yet forbidden—and erotically addictive.
Lotte reached over and took my hand as though sharing the moment, her touch soft and inviting, the brush of her thumb on the back of my hand lulling me.
My cock twitched; I couldn’t tear my focus off them.
The star of this display seeming tranced out, her blonde locks spilling over her pale nakedness, breasts swollen and prominent nipples desperate for suckling. Her body trembled, her back arched as she experienced a blinding orgasm.
Her Dom became aware of us.
