Read Online Carnal Carnivàle ~ Amber: A BDSM Billionaire Novella by Caelia Portier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caelia Portier
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nodded. “If you're not comfortable with it, maybe you shouldn't go. I'm sure Mr. Davenport would understand.”
“No, he's been trying to get me to go to one of his parties for a long time. I'd feel bad to stand him up, especially after he sent me this Charger limo, and an attractive, well-hung, chauffeur. Besides, I like sex and bondage. I'm sure I'll love it.”
“Okay, then,” Jamal said. It felt like he was saying have it your way .
He looked at the sky. “I hope he's going to keep the party inside, this time. It looks like there's a bad storm on the way.” He looked at me. “Whatever happens at the party, you be safe.”
“I will,” I said, but wondered if that was the truth. I had a funny way of doing things for the sake of excitement.
Jamal shut the door, and walked back to the driver's seat. He started the limo. It roared to life, and I was on my way to Vincent Davenport's Biannual BDSM Sex Party.
We pulled up to Vincent's house, and Jamal opened the door for me. I saw Bentleys, Porches, and Lamborghinis parked all over the front lawn and driveway. There was even a gold-plated Ferrari parked next to a fountain.
A man in a tuxedo walked over to us.
“Arriving to Mr. Davenport's party,” Jamal said, in a very formal tone, “Miss Amber Townsend.”
“I'll show you in, Miss,” the man said. He took me by the arm, walked me to the front door, and opened it.
I'd expected to see naked people inside, but the extravagant display of wealth was something I'd never seen in all my life. There were people playing Monopoly with real money; playing cards with a gold-plated deck; there were fountains full of gold coins, diamonds, and jewels.
Anyone who wasn't already naked, was wearing something fabulous. Even my clothes, which weren't cheap my any means, looked bland in comparison. I almost wished that Vincent had sent me an expensive dress, rather than a Dodge Charger limo, but then again, I might not have met my very accommodating chauffeur.
Vincent walked up, and hugged me. He looked me up and down. “Fantastic,” he said. “You look absolutely amazing. I can't describe it. You're the most beautiful woman here.”
“Shut up,” I said, and giggled.
Vincent put his arm around my waist. “Did Jamal show you a good time?”
“Jamal was very nice.”
“I bet he was,” Vincent laughed. “Now that you're here, we're going to play a little game.”
“What game?” I asked.
Vincent took a glass of champagne from a server's plate, and handed it to me. “Drink up, Amber,” he said. “Things are about to get interesting.”
I thought things had been interesting for a while already, but I downed the drink anyway, just in case.
Vincent picked up a second glass, took a sip, and raised it in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, Amber Townsend will now play Bondage or Dare,” he proclaimed.
A crowd of people began to applaud.
“What the hell is that? ” I asked.
“It's just like Truth or Dare,” he explained, “except we don't give a damn about your honesty. Now you must choose. Which will it be: Bondage, or Dare ?”
“Um,” I looked around the room, but nobody was giving any suggestions. “Dare,” I said.
“Oh, that's too bad. I was really looking forward to tying you up. Maybe later, I guess.”
“What's the dare, Vincent?”
“Oh, I don't choose,” he said. “You pick from the silver shoes.” Vincent pointed to a glamorous pair of silver shoes, displayed on a golden table.
I walked to the shoes, admired them, pulled a slip of paper from one of them, and read my instructions.
My mouth dropped. “It says I have to give two rough handjobs to two strangers.”
“Hmm,” Vincent said, and seemed disappointed. “You got an easy one. Get on your knees.”
I hesitated, but decided that I'd already given more than a handjob. This would be next to nothing,
“No, he's been trying to get me to go to one of his parties for a long time. I'd feel bad to stand him up, especially after he sent me this Charger limo, and an attractive, well-hung, chauffeur. Besides, I like sex and bondage. I'm sure I'll love it.”
“Okay, then,” Jamal said. It felt like he was saying have it your way .
He looked at the sky. “I hope he's going to keep the party inside, this time. It looks like there's a bad storm on the way.” He looked at me. “Whatever happens at the party, you be safe.”
“I will,” I said, but wondered if that was the truth. I had a funny way of doing things for the sake of excitement.
Jamal shut the door, and walked back to the driver's seat. He started the limo. It roared to life, and I was on my way to Vincent Davenport's Biannual BDSM Sex Party.
We pulled up to Vincent's house, and Jamal opened the door for me. I saw Bentleys, Porches, and Lamborghinis parked all over the front lawn and driveway. There was even a gold-plated Ferrari parked next to a fountain.
A man in a tuxedo walked over to us.
“Arriving to Mr. Davenport's party,” Jamal said, in a very formal tone, “Miss Amber Townsend.”
“I'll show you in, Miss,” the man said. He took me by the arm, walked me to the front door, and opened it.
I'd expected to see naked people inside, but the extravagant display of wealth was something I'd never seen in all my life. There were people playing Monopoly with real money; playing cards with a gold-plated deck; there were fountains full of gold coins, diamonds, and jewels.
Anyone who wasn't already naked, was wearing something fabulous. Even my clothes, which weren't cheap my any means, looked bland in comparison. I almost wished that Vincent had sent me an expensive dress, rather than a Dodge Charger limo, but then again, I might not have met my very accommodating chauffeur.
Vincent walked up, and hugged me. He looked me up and down. “Fantastic,” he said. “You look absolutely amazing. I can't describe it. You're the most beautiful woman here.”
“Shut up,” I said, and giggled.
Vincent put his arm around my waist. “Did Jamal show you a good time?”
“Jamal was very nice.”
“I bet he was,” Vincent laughed. “Now that you're here, we're going to play a little game.”
“What game?” I asked.
Vincent took a glass of champagne from a server's plate, and handed it to me. “Drink up, Amber,” he said. “Things are about to get interesting.”
I thought things had been interesting for a while already, but I downed the drink anyway, just in case.
Vincent picked up a second glass, took a sip, and raised it in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, Amber Townsend will now play Bondage or Dare,” he proclaimed.
A crowd of people began to applaud.
“What the hell is that? ” I asked.
“It's just like Truth or Dare,” he explained, “except we don't give a damn about your honesty. Now you must choose. Which will it be: Bondage, or Dare ?”
“Um,” I looked around the room, but nobody was giving any suggestions. “Dare,” I said.
“Oh, that's too bad. I was really looking forward to tying you up. Maybe later, I guess.”
“What's the dare, Vincent?”
“Oh, I don't choose,” he said. “You pick from the silver shoes.” Vincent pointed to a glamorous pair of silver shoes, displayed on a golden table.
I walked to the shoes, admired them, pulled a slip of paper from one of them, and read my instructions.
My mouth dropped. “It says I have to give two rough handjobs to two strangers.”
“Hmm,” Vincent said, and seemed disappointed. “You got an easy one. Get on your knees.”
I hesitated, but decided that I'd already given more than a handjob. This would be next to nothing,
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