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Humiliation was something he wanted to try after all.
No one said it had to be inherently sexual.
“Shiloh here is actually one of our event organizers,” Rascal says with a wide smile as he pats Shiloh on the back.
He might actually get Rascal before he gets to me, but my friend knows exactly what he’s getting into.
“Shiloh’s date package is a midnight affair. It involves gravel and starlight.” Rascal can’t help himself from throwing me a knowing smile, but I’m focused on the myriad of emotions playing out across Shiloh’s face.
Rascal picks up a bag from behind the podium and holds it out to Shiloh.
“Maybe our bachelor here would like to show you all what his date items are.”
Hesitation. Skepticism. But he snatches the bag anyway and reaches his hand inside. His brow furrows. Out comes a silk tie of gray and maroon stripes.
Shiloh’s eyes grow wide, and his head jerks in my direction. I grin and finger the collar of my shirt, distinctly missing the tie I showed up with.
Some people may take that clue as some kind of fine dining experience. Something fancy.
But that isn’t Shiloh.
No. By the blush on his cheeks, the implication has hit him full force.
That doesn’t stop him from grabbing out another item that brings a smile to his face: a keychain with a set of rollerblades decorated in the trans flag colors.
I know exactly when his fingers brush the last few things in the bag because he jerks his hand away and glares as Rascal.
He says something to Shiloh that I can’t hear from the corner, but that makes Shiloh’s blush spread out from his ears and down his chest.
Shiloh clears his throat, and instead of reaching back into the bag, he tips it over and scatters the contents across the stage.
There are a few startled gasps and plenty of amused snickers, but it’s Shiloh’s eyes boring into mine that get me.
Lube packets and condoms may be a little on the nose, but his embarrassment is palpable, and that’s the whole point.
This is also the moment that some of the gentlemen in the crowd start putting the pieces together. It’s sort of amazing how kinksters can spot each other with the slightest clues.
This will work nicely.
“Looks like our last date is a little ambitious.” Rascal wiggles his brows and gets a round of laughter in response. “Bidding will start at one hundred. And please remember that this is not prostitution folks. Just a little bit of fun between consenting adults. M’kay?”
Shiloh’s eyes drift back to me, and when I don’t bid he frowns.
“Five hundred.” This comes from a guy in the back in a business suit with a briefcase at his feet.
It’s silent for a moment, and Rascal holds up one finger. Shiloh gulps and whips his gaze between me and the other guy. I cross my arms and lean back against the wall.
“Five-Fifty!” Sitting with his feet propped on the back of another seat is Shiloh’s friend Valco.
Shiloh doesn’t look as angry when he groans and covers his face, more like an aggression and mortification mix. It’s a beautiful look for him.
“Seven hundred.” The man in the suit leans forward with a look of pure determination, and I know that he thinks Shiloh will be easy prey.
He thinks Shiloh will cower to power and let himself be dominated.
I don’t play with anyone but you.
“Eight hundred,” Valco shouts back with a middle finger primed and aimed back in the other man’s face.
