Millville Ch. 33: THE MILL CLUB GALA

"I'm back, George," I tell him as I re-enter the room. Wonder what's in that bag he brought with him. Probably not good. "So, what's next?" I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

"Before I answer that, I want to tell you that I did see your Mildred out there. And, wow, you should see her. All dressed in black leather. High-heel, thigh-high boots. Mini-skirt and a corset with her boobs spilling out over the top. For an older gal she's sure sexy. And she's drawing a lot of attention from the guests...especially the men."

Fuck! That must mean that she's doing the next scene. My scene. Unless they don't pick me. Pleeease!

"Now, first I'm going to get your hood fixed up. We'll start with these ear plugs. They'll reduce the sound you can hear, but not entirely. That's why we add the noise-cancelling headphones. Until they're turned on you'll still be able to hear some sounds. I'll speak loudly so you can hear me. Just before the scene starts we'll turn them on and play white noise."

"Is the hood going to fit over that?"

"Yep. You'll see. The headphones aren't very big." As soon as the headphones are in place he pulls a blindfold out of his bag and places it over my eyes. "Now we can put the hood back on. I'll add this cover for the eye openings and another for the mouth to be absolutely sure that no light will get through. So, during the scene you'll be in sensory deprivation as far as sound and sight is concerned."

Yeh, I remember that from the Gala before. Doesn't make it any more comforting, though. "Is that it, George?"

"Oh, no. That was just routine. Everyone gets that. Now the fun part comes."

I'll bet, I think to myself.

"Stand up, Tom. I need to reach your whole body for this next bit." Reaching into his bag again, he says, "I just need to paint some red circles on you. You know, concentric circles."

I'm listening to him, terrified. Oh, no. Does that mean what I'm afraid it means? Like Mildred did to Charlie before she whipped him?

I can feel him applying the paint on the upper part of my back, then on each side of my buttocks. Then lower, on the back of my thighs. "Turn around, please, Tom." I turn to face him and he starts painting on my chest and I can feel that he's painting a small circle around my nipple. Then a larger circle outside that one. He repeats the same on the other side.

Next thing I know he's drawing what must look like a target around my navel. First a large circle, then a small one. Crap. Where's he going next? He wouldn't. Oh, thank God, he skipped over it. He's painting the front of my thighs now. Oh, Oh. He's doing the inside of my thighs too. Christ. That'll sting like Hell. He must be finished now.

"Almost done, Tom. Just one more target."

"No, George. Not there. There are plenty other places already for the ladies to aim for. One more won't make a difference. To them, I mean. It'll make a big difference to me. Please?"

"Just following orders, Tom. Got to follow orders. It's my job, you know. Even though it doesn't pay much. Actually, it doesn't pay anything."

If that's his idea of humor, it's pretty lame. Plus I'm in no mood for jokes right now. Jeez, he's painting right around my cock and balls. No wonder they said I should shave down there before tonight. Now a bigger circle... and...a third one. They want this to be the main target? Oh, the crowd out there will love this. Why aren't I out there watching everything with Suzie? Watching some other poor sucker about to be whipped? Stupid...stupid me.

"OK, Tom. You're all set. You and the other guy down the hall. We should be ready for one of you in about ten or fifteen minutes. Good luck." I don't hear his footsteps as he walks to the door and I barely can hear it open and close through my ear coverings. I reach behind me to feel the chair I had been sitting on and lower myself onto it.

Ten or fifteen minutes. Go or no go. Fifty-fifty chance either way. What if it's me? Can I stand it? Can I quit in the middle? What'll happen if I do? Will people find out who I am? Probably. Will Suzie hate me? Boy, will I be glad when this night is over. A thousand thoughts go through my mind as I wait in the silence and darkness of my hood. In the other Gala they made the subs drink urine. Does the covering over my mouth mean I won't have to? Maybe they'll remove it. Crap, it'll be bad enough to be whipped, but on top of that to have to drink piss. No gag, at least. Guess they want to hear me scream.

I don't hear the door open this time, but suddenly I feel a tug on my collar. "Who's that?" I ask, scared shitless.

"It's me, Tom," George says in a loud voice so I can hear him.

"Oh, George. Please tell me I can go now."

"You can go, Tom. You can go with me to entertain the folks out there. They're anxious to see you, even though they don't know who you are. I'll lead you by this leash attached to your collar. Just walk slowly. I'll guide you through the room to the rack they have set up for you."

"What rack? Won't I be on the stage they set for the other Gala?"

"Nope. The other scenes tonight were on that stage, but they needed more space so the gals will have room to swing their whips, I guess. Especially Mildred, with her long one."

I follow George's lead, walking gingerly down the hallway. George tugs down on the leash and tells me to stop and turn to my right. "OK, Tom. I'm going to open the door into the Di Vinci Room. When we enter, you're going to hear a roar from everyone. Tonight, you are a star."

I don't hear the door opening, but suddenly, even with the ear plugs and the head phones, I can hear the roar...the clapping...the yelling...the cheering...

Oh, shit!

The end

EPILOG

Bob did remain best friends with Tom, even after being left in his own cabin in a fiendish and precarious position. Indeed, the two played their usual golf game the following Saturday. Bob and Julie continued their BDSM relationship, with Julie happily choosing to remain submissive to her dominatrix husband.

Len and Leila advanced in their careers to the point where they could afford to buy a home and also become members of The Mill Club. Subsequently they could go to The Club with their new friends. While Len was ambivalent about the matter, he remained the submissive in his relationship with Leila, mainly because she would have it no other way. He didn't complain, though, because whatever she did with, or to him, had the effect of arousing him sexually and keeping him that way for long periods of time. He was content.

Tom and Suzie were a different story. As newcomers to the BDSM world, they had taken their cues from Bob and Julie. They more or less assumed their roles should be male dom and female sub. It just seemed natural to them, especially for Tom. Being the macho type, he would not consider any other way. Experience, however, taught them otherwise, as they both learned over time that they could each enjoy the other side of the relationship also. They came to accept that neither of them had to be submissive to the other. And so they both became "switches", a term that Suzie first heard at their first Munch meeting. She and Tom now both enjoy their BDSM scenes with each other, but as "top" and "bottom" rather than "dom" and "sub". They can plan a scene without knowing who will be topping the other until they're ready to start. They find this even more exciting.

*****

Author's note: Thirty-three chapters, over 158,000 words, and thirteen months since the inception of the novella called "Millville", my task has been completed. It has been tedious at times, but has been a labor of love for me. My wish is that it has brought pleasure and entertainment to you, the readers.

Now, it's your turn. I would be grateful if you would let me know, either with a comment or a message sent to me through Literotica, your feelings about the story. I especially would like to know how many of you read the entire story...all the way from Chapter 1.

Thank you. Until next time,

Submisky35