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I snag two glasses and offer one to Rory. “A toast,” I say, holding mine up.
She simply beams at me, and my heart fucking stops beating at her beauty. She clinks her glass to mine. “What are we toasting for?”
I think about that for a moment. I could say cliché things like ‘to us’ or ‘to the best night of our lives,’ but that doesn’t seem to fit what might happen here this evening. “To a night of new experiences.”
“To a night of new experiences,” she repeats before bringing the flute to her lips. What I wouldn’t give to be the rim of that glass, to have those plump lips wrapped around me as she drinks me down.
Soon, we make our way to the front of the line, and I pull out my invitation and hand it to a masked woman who doesn’t need to see it to know who I am. “Ah, Mr. Marauder. Welcome back.”
“Thank you, Ms. Diamond,” I respond politely.
She smiles at me, then glances at Rory. “And may I have the name of your date?”
Grinning, I answer, “Mischief. You can call her Mischief.”
Rory giggles as we walk through the entrance area and into the main room. Sparkling chandeliers cast soft lighting on the massive space. A huge bar to the left serves thirsty customers, while small tables house others. People eat, drink, and laugh happily, but that’s not what grabs my attention, it’s the stage at the back of the room where the crimson drapes are currently closed.
“Are we here to see a play?” Rory asks excitedly, squeezing my hand.
Oh, my little kitten, if you only knew.
“Not exactly,” I answer. “What we’ll be seeing is live action, but be prepared for the unexpected.” She looks up at me curiously, and I decide on using a distraction, so I lean down and taste her lips softly. She kisses me back, and I taste the champagne on her tongue as it mingles with mine. When I release her lips, she almost pouts, but I pull her to the bar before she can get bent out of shape.
“Mr. Marauder! You brought a guest I see!” the masked bartender remarks, resting his head in his hands, his elbows perched on the bar top.
I smile and wrap my arm around Rory’s waist. “Meet Mischief.”
“Hello, darling,” the bartender who goes by Baxter coos, offering Rory his gloved hand. She giggles in a way I’ve never heard from her before and shakes it awkwardly. Baxter winks at us, grabs the finest bottle of champagne they carry, and pours us two glasses. He slides them toward us as the lights flash. “Better take your seats. The show is about to start.”
“Enjoy the view, Baxter,” I say, guiding Rory toward the dozen or so rows of theater style seating before the stage. We manage to grab aisle seats with a great view as two women sit in front of us. The seats fill up quickly, and those who don’t snag one sit around the small tables behind the theater seats.
Rory is looking around with an eagerness I haven’t seen before. Leaning over, I whisper in her ear, “Excited, kitten?”
“Yes!” she answers eagerly. “I’ve never seen live theater before.”
Smiling to myself, I sit back and watch as the curtains open and the hushed conversations stop altogether. Static sounds, and a male voice announces the first act.
“Sub Standard, please take the stage.”
From the audience, a couple stands and walks to the side of the stage. Hand in hand, they climb a short flight of stairs and turn to face the audience.
Unlike the gown Rory wears, the woman’s attire is much more severe. A strapless leather corset encases her torso, causing her breasts to nearly spill from the top and displaying her gorgeous ebony skin. Matching leather pants cling to her legs, and her tall heels make me wonder how the hell she’s even able to walk at all. Tiny black braids are woven into an intricate bun on top of her head, and her mask is a kitten face with short, black ears.
Even with her face obscured, I can tell she’s stunning. The man accompanying her is broad, and his muscular physique is visible even through his tuxedo.
His mask is a dragon, and his brown eyes don’t watch the crowd. No. He’s totally focused on her with a frown tugging at his lips. The woman simply beams, smiling at the audience, which seems to piss off the man even more.
“Wipe that smile off your fucking face and strip,” he growls, and Rory gasps beside me. I can’t help but smile. My poor kitten thinks she’s here for a fucking play.
The woman’s eyes turn hooded, and she lowers her head submissively, tugging at the sides of her corset to loosen her binds.
“Is she gonna…” Rory trails off, her gaze fixed on the woman.
I lean over and whisper, “Be stripped? Punished? Fuck yeah she is.” I lick the shell of her ear, and Rory fucking shudders in delight.
So far so good.
The first act is incredible. The woman’s body is a work of art, muscular and lean with nice breasts and a tight ass, but she doesn’t hold a candle to my Rory. Usually, I find watching these acts very erotic, but I can’t seem to get my head in the game, not with the seductive creature sitting next to me.
