Frisky Business (33 page)

‘But what if you want to put something on them? They’re not much use like that!’

‘Well, there are more important things in life than my knick-knacks. And it’s not good for a man’s ego to have a woman second-guessing him all the time – especially when it comes to things like DIY. They like to feel useful and … handy.’

‘Yes, but Kit’s clearly
not
handy, is he?’

May gave her a stern look. ‘You know, Romy, if you’re going to be Kit’s sub, you’re going to have to lose this attitude. You’ll have to get used to not questioning his judgement.’

‘Even if his judgement is clearly abysmal?’

‘That won’t be for you to decide.’

‘But as the dom, wouldn’t he be in charge of the equipment? Some of that stuff could be dangerous if it’s not set up properly.’

‘Well, often it can be one of the sub’s duties to take care of the equipment. You would sort out the ground rules between you before you begin. But, after that, you have to let him make the decisions and trust that he’s doing the right thing for both of you. You must submit to his will completely – at least while you’re playing.’

‘While you’re playing?’ Romy pounced. ‘So you do get time off from all the submission and obedience?’

‘Oh, yes. There are some couples who do it twenty-four/ seven – it’s called total power exchange – but it’s rare. It’s too intense for most people to keep up constantly.’

‘And the rules don’t apply when you’re not playing? You don’t have to call him “Sir” or “Master” and do whatever he says?’

‘Well, no. You still have to be respectful—’

‘So
it would be okay, then, to point out that he’s done a bloody crap job in your downtime?’

May sighed sadly. ‘Romy,’ she said, patting Romy’s shoulder consolingly, ‘you know I’m very fond of you, and I think you’re a great girl, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not at all sure you have what it takes to be a submissive.’

No, Romy thought, me neither.

‘Are you still interested in borrowing that pinwheel?’ May asked.

‘Oh, er, yes, please. No harm in trying, eh?’

‘Okay, you wait here. I have all my toys in a box in the bedroom.’

As she waited for May to come back, Romy looked around the room. There was a stack of framed photographs in an armchair under the alcove, no doubt waiting to go on the shelves, and Romy picked them up and looked through them. Some of them she had seen before – a young and very beautiful May playing Ophelia in the Abbey Theatre; slightly older as Lady Macbeth with the RSC. She had already known that May had led an adventurous and rather eccentric life – cut off by her father after some scandal with a boy and leaving her very wealthy aristocratic family to become an impoverished actress in Dublin and subsequently London. That would have been enough excitement for most people in a lifetime, but she had discovered in the last two days that it was just the tip of the iceberg for May. Romy sighed. She felt like she hadn’t lived – and never would, by May’s standards. She set the bar very high – dark sexual adventures, Jamaican acrobats, circuses … Romy felt that no matter what she did, she would never catch up.

‘Here we are,’ May came back, bearing a large box. ‘Everything’s in here,’ she said, placing it on the coffee table and
opening the lid. ‘You’re welcome to take anything you like.’

‘Wow!’ Romy gasped as she delved into the box. It was an Aladdin’s cave of sex toys, many of which she wouldn’t have recognised only a few days ago. She quickly located the little pinwheel. ‘Can I take this too?’ she asked, lifting out a spreader bar. Despite May’s assurances, she still wasn’t convinced the pinwheel would be instantly recognisable as a sex toy. It was so innocuous looking. She decided she should take a spreader bar too, to be on the safe side.

‘Yes, of course, dear. Take as much as you like.’ May began rooting through the box. ‘If you’re taking the spreader bar, perhaps you should take some handcuffs as well,’ she said, handing a pair to Romy. ‘And a ball gag. And you really should try these nipple clamps. They’re fun.’ She handed item after item to Romy until her arms were full of floggers, whips, blindfolds and restraints of every kind.

‘Gosh, thanks, May. This lot should keep me going for a while.’

‘Not at all, Romy. Let me know how you get on.’

‘I will.’ She had no intention of trying any of this stuff, but she didn’t like to refuse May’s kindness. She would bring the pinwheel and spreader bar to the wedding with her to test Kit. The rest she would stash in her wardrobe for a suitable period before returning them to May unused.

‘I’m still not sure you have what it takes to be a submissive,’ May said.

‘No, me neither,’ Romy said, smiling. ‘Still, only one way to find out!’

That
evening, Romy was relaxing with a glass of wine while Danny bathed Luke and put him to bed for her. It had been a tiring day. After leaving May’s flat with her booty, she had driven through a violent rainstorm to the adventure centre where Hannah’s hen weekend was being held. Fortunately, the rain stopped and the sky cleared just before the activities were due to start, and she had spent the day shooting arrows and guns, leaping from towering platforms and swinging across wires suspended between tall trees. It had been good fun, but exhausting.

She hadn’t been sure of the wisdom of bringing a baby to a hen party, especially one held in an adventure centre, but Luke had
been a huge hit with Hannah’s friends, and had been in constant demand all day. Romy had hardly seen him from the moment they arrived, when Laura had whipped him out of her arms and fell instantly in love. After that, he had been passed from one person to another while they took turns for archery or shooting. As the day progressed and the activities had become more extreme, the hens had even started to fight over him.

‘Oh, I’ll have to sit out the zip wire,’ Denise, Hannah’s bridesmaid had said casually. ‘It’s my turn to mind Luke, and his nappy needs changing.’

‘You had Luke for the climbing wall,’ another bridesmaid had said. ‘You go ahead, I’ll change his nappy.’

‘I don’t expect any of you to deal with that,’ Romy had said, breaking into their argument. ‘If his nappy needs changing, I’ll do it.’

‘Oh no, it’s no bother,’ both girls had chorused, and several others joined in, claiming they had changed lots of nappies for nieces and nephews or that it would be good practice for when they had babies of their own, and generously offering to sit out the zip wire or the climbing wall so that Romy could have a go.

‘We’ve got tomorrow as well,’ they’d said to her. ‘You’re only down for the day. We don’t want you to miss out.’

Clearly, Luke’s dirty nappy held no fears when compared with zip-wiring.

Feeling duty bound to be a good sport for Hannah’s sake, especially when some of her friends were being so negative, Romy had taken part in everything and had thoroughly enjoyed herself. The only time she had got to sit down with Luke was at lunch, and even then Laura had insisted on giving him his bottle while Romy ate. Laura was excusing herself from the more hair-raising activities and had offered to take Luke
for the rest of the day so everyone else could enjoy themselves. But once lunch was over, a small, thin girl had raced up to Romy with a rather desperate look on her face.

‘Please
can I have Luke next?’ she begged. ‘We’re doing high ropes, for fuck’s sake! What possessed Hannah to think this was a good idea for a hen party? I thought we’d go to a spa and have a few facials and manicures, not go to a feckin’ boot camp and swing out of the trees.’

Laura had taken pity on the girl and reluctantly handed Luke over to her for a short stint, while Romy put on her helmet again and strapped herself into another harness. By the time they were leaving, Luke had had a bevy of devoted fans waving him off, and she’d known that when everyone told her they were sorry she wasn’t staying for the next day, they’d meant it.

She smiled as she thought of the forlorn faces of the girls as she had driven off with their hero. She was probably lucky they hadn’t kidnapped him.

‘He’s asleep,’ Danny said softly, padding back into the room.

‘Great. Thank you. The food’s on its way.’ Too exhausted to cook, Romy had ordered an Indian takeaway and was looking forward to a quiet night in with Danny in front of the TV.

Danny sat beside her on the sofa and she poured him a glass of wine.

‘So how was last night?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘It was okay. We ended up at a party of some guy Neil met in The George. It got a bit messy, so I went home fairly early.’

Romy gave him a sympathetic smile. Danny had always been quiet and rather shy, and she knew wild parties and nights out clubbing weren’t his scene. But where else did gay guys go to meet someone? Evening classes?

‘Maybe you should try a dating website, like Lesley.’

‘Hmm
, maybe. But you’ve seen Gaydar. Fucking terrifying!’

Romy had to agree. She had seen the gay dating website and it scared the living daylights out of her. The guys who posed in only their underpants were mild. Some just had pictures of a penis as their avatar (allegedly their own penis, but who knew?). And they made no bones about what they were looking for either – there was none of the coy guff about long walks on the beach or trips to the movies that you get on most dating websites. Instead, they went straight in with lists of their preferred sexual activities. Lesley may find internet dating difficult, but at least she wasn’t required to include details of her genitalia in her profile, or whether or not she would take it up the bum. Romy couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to at least get to know someone a little first before finding out they had a huge dick or that they were interested in having a threesome. It seemed to her that a little bit of mystery was no bad thing.

‘Well, maybe you’ll meet someone through work,’ she said. That seemed to be her answer to everyone these days. ‘In the meantime, pick a movie to watch,’ she said, getting up as there was a ring at the door and she went to collect the takeaway. ‘Anything as long as it’s
Moulin Rouge.’

They were just settling down with the Indian and starting to watch
Moulin Rouge
when there was a knock on the inner door. ‘Must be one of the tenants,’ Romy said, pausing the DVD and getting up to answer it.

To her astonishment, she opened the door to find Kit standing on the threshold, panting and looking rather manic, his eyes wild. He bound in past her, waves of cold damp air rolling off him.

‘Kit!’ She followed him into the living room. ‘What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be building a shelter on some mountainside right now?’

‘I
escaped!’ he said breathlessly, spreading his arms like the Messiah. He flopped into the nearest armchair and started taking off his jacket. ‘Hi, Danny.’

‘How did you get here?’ Romy asked.

‘Oh shit! I forgot, there’s a cab outside and I’m all out of cash. Could you get it? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.’

Romy sighed. ‘Okay.’ She saw Danny scowl out of the corner of her eye as she grabbed her purse and went out, running down the steps to the waiting taxi. She paid the driver quickly and dashed back into the house.

‘So, what happened?’ she asked Kit as she returned to the room, dropping her purse on the coffee table.

‘Well, turns out I’m more resourceful than I thought I was – than anyone thought I was, actually,’ Kit said. ‘Oh, is that Indian?’

‘I’ll get you a plate,’ Romy said resignedly, since he was practically drooling at the sight of the takeaway. She went to the kitchen and heated a plate in the microwave, and collected cutlery and a glass.

‘Here you go, she said, depositing the lot on the coffee table and pouring a glass of wine. ‘Oh my God, you’re frozen,’ she said as she handed Kit the wine and her hand brushed against his.

‘I know. You should be wrapping me in aluminium foil and making me hot cocoa. I’ve survived a horrific ordeal.’

‘Well, wine and curry will have to do. But I can get you a duvet if you want?’

‘No, thanks. I’m fine. I’ll warm up in a minute.’ He took a gulp of wine.

‘You’re lucky you had that jacket,’ Romy said, nodding to the armchair where Kit had left it.

‘I credit it with my survival,’ Kit said, getting up and crossing to the coffee table. ‘It was worth every penny.’ He sat cross-legged in front of the low table, helping himself to rice and curry
, and tearing off a large chunk of naan bread. ‘Oh my God, this is amazing, Romy. You’re a life-saver.’

Romy couldn’t help smiling as he attacked the food and wine like a starving man. ‘So tell us what happened. How did you get away?’

‘Like I said, I was resourceful – which was pretty much the point of the exercise, so I win!’

‘I don’t think that was quite the idea,’ Romy said.

‘We were supposed to pretend we’d been in a plane crash and had to survive and make it back to civilisation using only our wits and whatever we had with us. Well – here I am,’ he said, making an expansive gesture with his arms. ‘In civilisation.’

Romy laughed. ‘You were supposed to see if you could survive in the wilderness.’

‘Bollocks to that! I’m the one sitting here having takeaway and wine. I’m the true survivor. Where are the rest of them? Still stuck out on that godforsaken mountainside eating berries and dodgy looking mushrooms. Much use
they’d
be in a plane crash.’