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Boris retreated and left Nikolai to his thoughts.
ChapterTen
It was decided after dinner, that they would go to the club. Izzie was secretly hoping that’s where they’d go. They weren’t dressed to play, so the plan was to be voyeurs for the night.
They arrived later than usual, but to their surprise their usual table was available. They made themselves comfortable and scanned the room. No mystery man in sight.
“Not gonna lie,” Dane said, dramatically. “I’m bored already.”
“Maybe he’s running late,” Babs suggested.
“I’ll give him 30.” Dane left the table heading to the bar.
Babs glanced at her. “Are you disappointed he’s not here?”
“No.”
“Just a little?” Babs tilted her head lifting an eyebrow.
“Okay fine.” Izzie sighed. “A little.”
“You have a thing for the guy.”
“I do, but he won’t even talk to me so it’s a moot point.”
Babs chuckled. “Girl, I’m talking a playdate, or a romp in the sack, not marriage.”
She sighed. “I know, but even that seems farfetched right now.”
Dane approached the table with drinks in hand. “Hello ladies, the fun can now begin.”
They sat sipping their drinks, and people-watching as usual when there was a commotion across the room. “Ooh, I think someone’s playing big time.” Dane jumped up and strode away.
“Wanna go see?” Babs asked.
Izzie shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, why not? Beats staring at your face all night.”
Babs widened her eyes, pretending to look appalled, and they both laughed.
Taking a stroll across the room, Babs was commenting about the ongoings they passed; spanking, oral sex, needle play… none of it caught her attention.
Not until Babs gasped and her eyes grew wide. “Maybe we should go home now. I’m not feeling so great.”
At first, Izzie’s knee-jerk reaction was to grab their coats and leave. Babs was never ill. But then she saw it.
The reason Babs lied.
Mr. Mute was sceneing with the woman from the other night, the brunette who wore the gold dress.
They’d attracted a lot of attention judging by the crowd gathered around them.
The man had the woman on all fours up on a table. He was objectifying her, using her as a tray. He had a display of food laid out on her naked back. He took a step back to look at his handy work, and after a moment stepped up to the table.
Izzie couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was gorgeous, to begin with, but when he was in charge, good god. She was practically panting while wishing she was the woman on the table, and being objectified wasnotsomething she’d ever been into. She didn’t understand the pull he had on her, but for this guy, she’d be anyone or anything he wanted her to be.
Mr. Jackson picked up a paddle, slapping the woman’s ass several times. Her skin pinked up nicely. Izzie shifted on her feet trying to stave off the pulsing sensation between her thighs. The woman in the scene hardly budged, the food remained on her back.
Izzie hadn’t noticed before, but the woman had a ball gag in her mouth, and strings of saliva dangled precariously over the table. Izzie had to hold back a moan.
