“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. Eagerly. She pressed back into the touch of his hands, his body against hers.
Wetting her lips, she let her gaze steal around the rest of the room. The men had fallen silent as she appeared, and she could feel all their eyes on her, though she didn’t meet any of them. Not just because they were Doms, but because she was too overwhelmed. They were all here. She’d known they would be, but actually seeing them was an impact on the senses almost more potent than the stimulation of the toys.
Walking vibrators, with a fifty-yard range. Dana had made that comment at Rachel’s bridal shower, sending all of them into peals of laughter. But it was the Goddess’s honest truth.
In their suits and ties, they were devastating to female senses. Casual wear was a different but no less pleasurable experience. Since at the moment all the men were standing at various places in the board room, her lowered gaze provided her the treat of a lot of well-fitted denim. Dark blue, stressed, faded to almost gray, black.
As she raised her gaze from the terrain of the dark blue jeans, she saw Peter’s rock band T-shirt had a workout, stretching over his massive shoulders and biceps.
Ben wore a hunter green T-shirt over the faded jeans. The shirt had a bar logo that included shamrocks and dragons. Ben had the body of a street fighter, a lot of layered, compact muscle, and a resting tension that made him seem eternally alert. Which made his humor and propensity for pranks an odd contrast, but it worked for him.
It was rare that she saw Matt in jeans, but the man wore them well, the black denim matched by a short-sleeved black button down loose over them. While no one had Peter’s mass, Matt was the closest, with broad shoulders, wide chest, and a musculature that was Brad Pitt Troy territory. Lucas wore the stressed jeans and a polo shirt embroidered with a bike marathon logo over the right pectoral. A devoted bike enthusiast, he had the lean, fit body to match.
And Jon. When he turned her to face him, she saw he had on a pair of belted black jeans, the blue dress shirt tucked into them bringing out the vivid color of his eyes. It was long sleeved, but he had the sleeves rolled up, embellishing the look of his strong forearms.
His were the eyes she could meet, needed to meet. When she did, he gave her a stern look and a quiet reminder. “Time to begin. Remember your instructions, Rachel.”
Walk around the room. Goddess give her strength. She left the threshold and moved into the space.
Other than the men themselves and of course Dana, what captured a person’s attention was their board room table. It was new, since they’d moved back to fully renovated New Orleans offices after Katrina. It filled her with pride to know her husband had been the designer of the center piece to this room.
The thick glass top had the shape of a lagoon, asymmetrical in a pleasing way. Decorative lines etched in the glass echoed those curves, like water that cut through the earth’s surface over time. The rounded ends of the table and slightly more narrow middle, reminded her of a woman’s curvy figure.
A foot below the glass top was a parallel platform of polished wood whose shape matched the shape of the glass table, only about two thirds of the size, so it didn’t interfere with the knees of those pulled up to it. The dark red-brown wood with black streaks was rosewood. It was supported with a cross piece beneath. She knew that because Jon had told her about the design of the table when he’d taken her to see it, before the office re-opened.
She’d learned about additional features—and why Jon was so involved in the design—from the other women. The etched grooves in the glass were functional as well as decorative. The glass could separate into six different pieces, smoothly sliding over each table leg to form side tables. If the executives needed to turn toward the multiple screens on the far wall for a video conference, such an option allowed them to shift their notes, tablets or laptops to that facing position. But that wasn’t what the women had wanted to tell her about.
The rosewood base divided into two pieces at the narrow waist part of the shape. It would tent like a drawbridge, turn over and come back together, revealing that the base frame was more than support. It also served as a St. Andrews’ cross, with bronze fixture pieces at the appropriate points for attaching chains, cuffs, etc. There were also additional tracks slotted into the thick wood platform, positioned above and below the crossing point of both beams, that permitted the attachment of a programmable arm. It could hold a variety of devices to pleasure a woman at any reasonable angle.
While a woman was lying on the cross, the glass top could be brought back together with another press of a control button, so the men could continue whatever they were doing, while the pleasurably tormented woman was displayed beneath glass.
Tonight, it simply looked like a table, but there were other options in the room she’d heard about that she didn’t doubt might be called into service. The thought of that added to the weakness of her knees. She noticed the table was covered with a large piece of black foam, about the thickness of her yoga mats. It was cut in the shape of the table surface, but slightly smaller, leaving about a foot of glass exposed along the perimeter. Seeing Dana’s hands and knees pressed into the cushioned support told her why it was there.
One side of the room was a bank of windows. She recalled the windows were tinted so, though she saw a romantic postcard view of the lights of the New Orleans business district, and the markers on the Mississippi riverfront, no one could see into their room. Recessed lighting gave the room an intimate ambiance, though she expected it could be brightened to a more businesslike wattage when needed.
Jon had also been involved in some of the feng shui elements of the room. A couple of their propagated Japanese maples were here, and a three-platform pedestal that bore a trinity of orchids, under which clever silver channels allowed a continuous flow of water to a basin. The sound was like the whisper of mist, the distant gurgle of a stream, rather than water falling from a faucet. The water moving from channel to channel relaxed and soothed, a meditative effect she might need to utilize a few times tonight, if Jon aroused her to the point of extreme agitation and then required her to hold back her release. A very probable certainty.
She saw the side bar was stocked with alcohol and snacks, including chocolate, because she scented it as she turned in that direction to begin her circle of the table.