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"Was Myers able to make it?"
"No, his kid had soccer practice, but he said he and Des could meet one-on-one. He'll take care of the arrangements."
"I love a self-sufficient cast member. Thanks."
Okay, so good then. She'd tell Des her feelings when he arrived, all quick and casual like, and catch two birds with one net. Or let them go, because their wing beats against the inside of her stomach and chest were making her want to fly to pieces. She didn't have time for this shit.
"Honey-chile, you are going like a freight train today. Or like a freight train's chasing you."
The sultry voice, a masculine Lauren Bacall, wreathed her face in a smile. Billie Dee-Lite was a professional drag queen popular in clubs across the Carolinas and in Virginia. He and Logan were friends, so the she-male, as Billie liked to call himself, had agreed to lend his emcee talents to Consent. Good transitions were essential to maintaining and transforming the mood between the erotic skits, and Billie would provide that very effectively.
Technically, he didn't have to be here today, but he was in town and had offered to pitch in. To do that, the drag queen was wearing jeans that made the most of his high, taut ass, and a pair of square-heeled boots. The only nod to his profession was his expertly applied makeup and the Moulin Rouge T-shirt he wore with a spray of sequins across it. It was a provocative look, Julie admitted, the makeup and entrenched female movements of Billie's body coupled to the obviously well-developed masculine torso and biceps.
The world of alternative sexuality was filled with fascinating contrasts and contradictions that, on closer inspection, didn't contradict as much as she'd expected. Everything about Billie fit who Billie was. When he'd offered to help with the grunt work, she'd liked him immediately. He could earn over five thousand dollars a night in gigs in other venues, and yet there was nothing diva-ish about this diva, even though she could call up the diva side in a moment. He, Julie corrected herself, though she expected it wouldn't be the first time she made that stumble. She had a feeling it was fine with Billie to call him by either gender, regardless.
"Yeah, freight train is right." Julie blew out a breath. "This is the back stretch, with a million things happening and the 'oh-my-god is this going to work or fail miserably' terror grip."
Billie pursed his full burgundy lips. "I've heard about your rep in Boston, Philly and the Apple, honey-chile. I don't think that's what's got you all spun up. Some troublesome man put a thorn in your ass, didn't he?"
It was an apt description, but before she could indulge or shut down Billie's fishing for gossip, Pablo came through the double doors that led to the auditorium.
Pablo was one of the few cast members Logan hadn't seen perform himself, but Pablo was a member of a reputable South Carolina BDSM group. Logan had spoken to some of his contacts there, who indicated Pablo was a young up-and-comer in the rope scene and they didn't have any significant flags or concerns about him other than his experience level.
Pablo had met Madison at a trade show, since he was in retail himself. He'd been so enthusiastic about helping her out with her theater endeavor, Logan told him to submit a video file. The rigger integrated wax, fire play, role play and modern dance into his offerings. The session had been dramatic and flashy, Pablo possessing a raw energy and impulsiveness that Julie knew would translate well to an audience. The submissive in the file was the one who would be working with him on stage.
Logan saw no flags, either, though he'd advised Julie to have Des go over Pablo's show with the performing rigger. "Rope at that skill level isn't my main area of expertise," Madison's Dom had told her. "I'm not seeing anything that says he shouldn't be in the show, but Des can point out any safety issues that might need to be tweaked up."
When she thought about the audition tape now, she compared it to her one experience with Des. She suspected Des would find all of Pablo's flash a distraction, but as Des had said, performance wasn't his focus--his submissive was.
Julie had felt firsthand the pleasure of that singular attention. But she had to think like an artistic director for Consent and Pablo's offering would contribute the right mix. She and Madison wanted to cross the reality of the BDSM world with the fantasy, without straying so far outside the boundaries people went home with the wrong conception of it. Since everyone in the performance were real players in the BDSM community, both women felt the touches of dramatic flair wouldn't clash with the overall goal.
"What's up, Pablo?" She noted Harris was with him, with a partially amused and expectant look on his face.
"I need a standin sub for the lighting guys to check something. I was going to get Sandy to help, because she's done rope bunny work before, but she had to take off for an afternoon class. You're about her size and build. Could I borrow you for a few minutes? I saw Madison over the weekend and she said you've worked with Des some."
While Julie hadn't given her friend many details about her and Des's experience, Madison had apparently picked up enough that she thought Julie was interested in learning more about being a 'rope bunny.' Though that wasn't entirely untrue, Julie thought her interest might be connected more to the man who'd put rope on her than the rope itself.
"I notice you're not asking this fine queen standing right in front of you," Billie said with mock accusation. Pablo grimaced good-naturedly.
"I already know you're a Dom, Miss Dee-Lite. I try to truss you up, you'll have me hog-tied faster than I can blink."
"Such a wise boy." Billie tilted his head toward Julie. "And I suspect Miss Julie here is the type of pretty little sub who likes to help a top out."
"Who says I'm a sub?" Julie demanded.
Billie rolled his eyes and twitched a hip in her direction. "See how fine this ass is? It's an indisputable fact, one anyone can verify by simply using their eyes. That's the answer to your question."
"He has a radar for submissives," Harris said dryly. "Or those he'd like to be submissive."
That set off some trash talk back and forth where Billie threatened to take a switch to Harris's fine white marshmallow backside. During the exchange, Julie looked at Pablo, who threw in his own opinion to keep the one-liners rolling. He was funny and she was comfortable around him, yet she found herself hesitating.
Was it the powerful, erotic nature of what she had experienced with Des making her unsure? Did she want to recall that memory in front of a theater full of milling crew and performers? Then her professional side kicked her in the butt. Pablo wasn't planning to have her strip down and take her to orgasm. He needed to demonstrate something for the technical direction. Get a grip, Julie.
"I just need a similar body type to position in the way I'll be doing for the show," he said. His detection of her concern should have reassured her, and she told herself it did. He elbowed her. "Unless you want to get naked for all of us. We're a very open group, you know."
"Totally open," Harris said with an innocent blink. "I'll get naked, too, to make you fee
l better about it."
