Author’s Note:  This is part five of six in Adventures of Jamie.

How the hell did I get here? Jamie thought as she…”FUCK!” she screamed feeling her pussy being stretched open.

Photo by Dan Century bdsm

The audience gasped and awed their approval as they watched Javon twist the black Jolly Roger-painted bowling pin he had inserted between Jamie’s legs.

Tears burned her cheeks as Jamie tugged against the restraints that had her tied, chest down, to the miniature pommel horse-like bench.

The warehouse walls were black, done in the same black paint that was used to blot out light from the windows near the to of the walls…not that there was much light coming in at midnight.  It also seemed to be the same shade of black that most of the two hundred or so people watching were wearing almost as camouflage so no one knew they were actually at The Ball.

Subspace captured Jamie as her mind wandered back 24 hours to when she was leaving the hotel in the back of a yellow taxi with twelve hundred dollars cash in her purse after a night of sex with a young stranger in the 30th floor vending machine room, the pool and the bed.

In her own bed her sleep was heavy, restful and with some very interesting dreams that left her excited waking up. She was only half awake when she answered Kirsten’s call.

“Oh my God! Vince is taking me to The Ball tonight!”

“Lucky you,” Jamie cooed. “How did that happen?”

The Ball, the biggest bdsm festival in the city, happened once a year and was one of the events that no one claimed to know about, but everyone had hard of.  When the pictures would show up on websites like Fetlife it would show packed warehouses of people dressed in black camouflage-like clothing watching the action, and yet no one ever claimed to have been there.

“Vince knows Javon!” Kirsten said with giggles.

Javon, like The Ball, was a rumor…a legend.. And the host of The Ball. No one knew what he looked like, but most knew the name.

Briefly slipping out of subspace, Jamie accepted that she now knew Javon…the huge bald man with the grey beard wearing the wife-beater and faded jeans. He twisted the bowling pin in her pussy and pushed it deeper.

Subspace took her again.

“You should come with us!”

Her initial instinct was to refuse. A quick glance at the calendar, however, reminded that husband Brad was still away for a few more days on his business trip playing with his colleague.  She wished Brad could come along as well. “I’d love to.”

Within a heartbeat Jamie found herself in the backseat of Vince’s Porsche chattering to Kirsten as Vince used his heavy foot to have them screaming through the streets.  Jamie was having trouble concentrating mostly as she recalled just how big Vince’s member was.  Kirsten had once joked with Jamie that she married Vince due to the size of his dick…the fact that she said this while Jamie had that very cock in her mouth made it all the more funny.

The Ball, it seemed, was in an industrial section of the city just northwest of Kipling Avenue and The Queensway in an old warehouse.  From the outside light flashes could be seen from the mostly painted over windows and the thump of bass could be felt from the music inside, but without truly being heard.

Her nerves had her sweating under her jean jacket even though it was a cool fall night and beneath that jacket all Jamie had on was her black corset that showed off her navel with blue jeans one again tucked into her favorite black boots with the four-inch heels.  She thought the heels would be fantastic if she had to put her foot on a guy.

Entry, however, brought sensory overload to a new level.  People in varying states of dress and undress.  Rubber masks, leashes and collars were everywhere…one couple had the male down on all fours and in a rubber dog masque.  Above, a mirror ball added effect to the goings on as the people mingled about between play stations watching the demonstrations of flogging, wax play, electric play or whatever.  The music was not truly that loud, allowing for voices to be at a low hum without having to yell.

Vince led Kirsten and Jamie to a few of the displays and demonstrations before finally stopping and putting his arms around both women.  First he leaned and said something into Kirsten’s ear, then Jamie’s, “That’s Javon.”

The man was on a black throne that looked as though it had skulls coming from the arm rests.  Two well trained Dobermans stood guard on either side of him that, were Javon shorter, people would think he was Higgins with Zeus and Apollo.  A red carpet led down a few steps to what, to Jamie, looked like a pommel horse with a kneeler in front of it.  On either side of the throne were shelves with different implements upon them…some obviously identified such as floggers, and others not quite so obvious.

One of the implements, a black bowling pin with the Jolly Roger painted on it made Jamie giggle.  Of all things, it seemed something of an overcompensation to her.

Javon stood and held one hand up.  He wore a long black leather jacket over a wife beater and faded jeans.

The music silenced as did anyone talking.  A henchman stepped up and led the Dobermans away.

He was huge, muscular and Jamie guessed he was mid-60s with light blue eyes in his bald and bearded head.  “I need a volunteer!” his voice boomed deeply.

A few hands went up.

The voice vibrated through Jamie with a resonance that made her weak in the knees.  She had always had a thing for deep trained voices, and Javon had her attention.  Listening to him, she imagined him doing Shakespeare at Stratford.

“There will be pain!  Then there will be the greatest of pleasure…” he almost growled the last word.  He turned around and waved one hand grandly.  “My volunteer will first choose the implement of torture…and then will choose the pleasure.”

More hands shot up.

“Jamie?  What the hell are you doing?” Kirsten questioned with a laugh.

It shocked Jamie to realize her hand was in the air as she had not even thought about it.  It seemed unlikely she would be seen, however, with them so far at the back, however, and so many in front of them were larger…even with four-inch heels, she was not that tall.

“Make way!” his voice boomed.

The crowd opened up as though Andre the Giant was clearing a path for Mandy Patinkin.  It created a split that left Jamie right in the middle and her eyes locked with Javon.

“Shit,” Vince whispered with a chuckle.

Crossing his arms and spreading his legs, he looked powerful.  One hand, an open palm, went towards her but there was no mistaking whom he was calling.  “You, my friend, you are new here.”

Jamie simply nodded.  She lost sight of all those around her due to their black camouflage and utter silence.

“A brave soul to be such fresh meat.  Come hither, my dear.”

Jamie did as instructed and walked towards him clicking her heels with an echo on the cement floor until she stood directly in front of him and down one step…her eyes lowered to his groin and, though she assumed his outfit included a codpiece, her mouth started to water.

Putting an arm around her, he pulled her up to his step.  “This is where I play Monty Hall.”

The crowd chuckled at the levity.

Turning her to face the shelves.  “Choose your implement.”

Without hesitation and with confidence she spoke, “The Jolly Roger.”

For a brief second, Javon seemed not to know the reference…but then his grip on her shoulder tightened.  “Excellent choice.  Mitchell!  Olivia!”

One couple in the crowd stepped forward.

“You know what to do.”

Olivia was a strong woman and pulled Jamie with her.  She then began to pull off Jamie’s clothes.  “Colors are our safe words here, honey,” she instructed with a New York nasal accent.  “Green means go, red means stop.  Try not to get too fancy in between as a colour like blue will confuse things.”

Jamie, now down to just lingerie which she helped Olivia pull off of her, nodded.

“And above all, Javon respects the word no.”

Upon completion, Mitchell pulled the now naked Jamie to the horse.  “Just relax.” Laying a towel on it first, he then pushed Jamie on to it and attached restraints to her wrists, ankles and even thighs.

Subspace threw Jamie back out as she felt the bowling pin being extracted from her.  She whimpered and shook, but began to feel warmth as Javon lightly stroked at her pussy in his beginning of aftercare.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.  “You have done beautifully, my dear.  Are we still good?”

“Orange,” Jamie whispered and tried to catch her breath.  “Orange.”

“Excellent.  Release her!  She shall have her reward!”  Javon walked back up and sat on his throne.

Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.

Mitchell returned and did as instructed.  He then carried her to Javon and put Jamie down on his lap.

The music and party reignited with noise and voices increasing once again.

Javon stroked her hair and spoke softly in her ear of how he wonderfully she had done.  He pulled her close with one hand on her hip and the other on her knee.

Enjoying the cuddle, she felt safe but cold as a shiver went through her.

Olivia came up and lay a heavy blanket over Jamie.  She leaned down and whispered in Jamie’s ear, “Ya did great, honey.”

Jamie curled in and placed her arms around Javon’s neck.

“Once your heart beat calms, we will get to your pleasures, my dear.”  His hand on her knee moved up and lightly tweaked a nipple beneath the blanket.

That was all she needed as she kissed him deeply and madly.  In mere moments she was on her knees in front of him, in front of his throne, and with a few hundred watching as she held his erection in one hand and licked his balls.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair…an action that she had become somewhat used to lately…and asked, “What pleasure do you choose?”

Her eyes locked on his.  “I want to be fucked.”

He smiled.  “Just once?”

She shook her head.

Javon grinned and his growl returned, “Excellent.  Open the champagne!”

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