Page 30 of Dash

As he moved along, he noted a semi-circle had formed around one cross. Typically, that meant an engaging scene had started. As voyeuristic as the next kinky person, Dash made his way over.

In neatly pressed slacks, a vest, and a red shirt with rolled sleeves, an impeccably styled man crouched as he Florentine flogged a woman in nothing but a garter belt, lined stockings, and heels. Strapped to the cross, her movements were limited with each blow. He moved back and forth, the falls of his floggers timed perfectly to the beat of the music. Every so often, his submissive let out the slightest high-pitched squeak. The dance-like movements with the two matching floggers, whose handles were looped around the dominant’s fingers, were controlled by the rotation of his wrists.

The talent was clear as the man used the rhythm of the music for the intensity of his strikes as he moved his figure eight movements. He was sure to keep his strikes at the top of her body, avoiding his submissive’s kidney and spinal area. He concentrated on muscle tissue, his reward was pink flesh, and the spectators got an entrancing show.

When the song changed, he stepped back, and let the floggers drop from his hands, as though forgotten. Once he’d returned to the woman, he whispered in her ear, with his hand collaring her throat. Her gaze seemed a vacant stare, but directed at him. With a nod, he smiled and pulled away to dig into his bag.

Turning from their scene, which Dash knew would progress into something more intense, he sought Gingersnap. His own hand itched to engage. It’d been far too long since he’d done anything real. The spanking session with Blue had been just a taste, a tease for him. He needed harder.

He found her talking to a petite woman in a kimono with purple dreadlocks coiling rope around her arm. Gingersnap looked stunning in platform black heels, nude thigh-high stockings, with garters visible through the slit of her high-waisted pencil skirt and a white blouse. Animated as she spoke, the redhead flicked her gaze and caught sight of him. She waved her hand, stopping whatever story she told to call him over.

The woman beside her turned and settled her dark brown eyes upon him, sweeping over him. “Hey,” he greeted with a chin jut as he approached them. He stood between the two and shifted his bag over his shoulder.

“Anemone, this is PRK,” Gingersnap introduced, waving her hand in the woman's direction, who was still coiling her rope. “PRK, this is Ane, one of the best lady riggers you’ll ever meet. Don’t be fooled by her size, she can suspend anyone.”

Dipping his chin, he responded, “Impressive.”

“It’s about leverage.” Ane shrugged. “If you can lift your own leg, I can suspend you,” she said as she shifted her focus to his knees. “Can you lift your leg?” She raised not only her brows but also her gaze.

Allowing his grin to graduate to a chuckle, he nodded. “I can, but I usually do the suspending. Though, I don’t think I’d rise to the ‘best lady rigger’ in the land,” he said, only slightly teasing Gingersnap.

“What’s PRK short for?” she asked as she crouched to stuff her coils of rope into a bag.

“My bike.” He shifted his gaze toward the reason he’d come. Her own focus seemed on the room, scanning it. Dash assumed this little meet up with her friend was more of a screening. He’d oblige. Women couldn’t be too careful, and he appreciated that, admired it really.

Ane peered up at him with skepticism. “I hope it has a motor.”

“Nah. Have you seen my legs?” He flexed.

“What?” Gingersnap seemed to come back to the conversation.

“Yes,” he groaned. “It has a motor.”

“You’re funny,” Ane stated, but it didn’t sound like a compliment.

Dash met her eyes, and felt like he stared down a smiling pit bull, especially when she cocked her head. The rope rigging woman slipped her bag over her shoulder before she flicked her gaze over to her friend.

“I got a scene and need to secure a hard point,” she announced before looking back to him. “It’s good to meet you.” She looked at Gingersnap. “You going to watch?”

“Of course!” Gingersnap squeaked in excitement.

He nodded in the affirmative.

Perfect. Watching her reaction to the rope scene would give him more insight than just sitting and having a conversation about limits. The night was young, even if he arrived late. The space was open for a few more hours. He had plenty of time to get to know and negotiate with her.

Ane set up her own scene, hooking her ring to the hard point, and laying out the rope she’d just coiled. From watching her set up her scene, he could tell this woman was meticulous. Glancing toward Gingersnap, who pulled two chairs over for good spectator seats, he assumed, based on the company she kept, she had to have some experience and knowledge herself.

Laying his bag down, he tucked it under the chair; then, he sat beside the redhead. “So, how many years are you active?”

Crossing her legs, she smoothed her skirt before resting her hands in her lap. “Um, about five, and you?”

Nodding, he stalled his own answer. It wasn’t a simple question. He couldn’t exactly say as long as he’d been sexually active. He’d always been spanking asses and pulling hair. He didn’t always know what it was, but he’d been doing it. “I’ve been going to munches for like fifteen years now.”

“What’s your favorite thing?” She jumped right in with the second question, and he admired her enthusiasm.

“Impact play, hands down,” he responded just as quickly. “You?”

“I have the most experience with rope,” she admitted with slumped posture and a downward inflection. It almost sounded as though she were disappointed, but he couldn’t tell if it came from her response or his.

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