Sunday, October 31, 2010

Halloween Flashfiction: Wardrobe Malfunction

My third piece of Halloween flashfiction features Grace and Ray from Carte Blanche and its sequels, Rules and Rewards and the brand spanking new (excuse the pun!) Sunshine.


A few times during the year, the owners of Carte Blanche organized theme parties at the club. The Mardi Gras party in particular was renowned through BDSM circles across the entire country. On that night, Dominants and submissives came in from as far as the West Coast, and the club was packed with couples and singles in search of a play partner, all of them showing off their best costumes, and sometimes their best moves too.

On Halloween on the other hand, the club was strictly members only and closed to guests. It was a more intimate affair than Mardi Gras, but to a lot of regular members, it was a more attractive one. Not having to fight crowds to find a place to sit down or with no line for access to the playrooms, the club’s members found that the night was just as festive—just as flamboyant—but ultimately a truer reflection of what Carte Blanche was.

Grace didn’t care so much for the excessive celebrations of Mardi Gras, but she had wanted to attend the Halloween party since becoming a member of the club. Her first year of membership, however, she had gone to trick-or-treat with her daughter, and granted Ray, her submissive, permission to go on his own. He had dressed up as an old-fashioned magician, cape, tuxedo, top hat and cane, and she had liked the look so much that she had requested that he make her a drawing of himself wearing it. He had agreed, of course, but as adept as he was with a pencil and a piece of paper, drawing himself still gave him trouble. Grace had waited patiently for her drawing, but when Halloween had returned a year later, Ray still had not finished, and it didn’t look like he would finish any time soon.

That second Halloween, she had intended to go to the club with him later in the evening, after Laura had returned from going door to door with her friends. However, she found herself having to punish him for failing to obey her, and so she cancelled those plans. Only afterwards did she realize she was punishing herself as well, but by then it was too late.

It was finally on her third year that everything fell into place so that she could finally attend the party. Laura was spending the night at a sleepover at a friend’s house, which meant that Grace wouldn’t have to worry about getting home to relieve the babysitter. After dropping her off, she drove a few more blocks to her mother’s place. She could have dressed up at home, but she didn’t want Ray to see her before they met at the club, and she needed someone to help her lace up her corset. Her mother obliged, and commented that, while Grace looked lovely dressed up as a noblewoman, the costume was far from original.

Grace knew that, but she also knew she looked pretty good in a corset. Even better, she knew that Ray loved watching her wear one about as much as he enjoyed unlacing it and freeing her from the constriction it offered. If he was good she would let him undress her. If he was very good, she would let him do a lot more than undress her.

She arrived at the club an hour or so after nightfall, quite enough time for Ray to get there as well. From the moment she stepped in and accepted a cup of complimentary champagne, she started looking for him in the crowd. It seemed that every member in the club was in attendance, and Grace was stopped every few steps by a fellow Dom she hadn’t seen in a while or a subbie complimenting her costume. She shared a few words with anyone who accosted her, and fended off the suggestions that always came, sooner or later, to play together, share a scene, or swap submissives for the night. She had said often enough that she wasn’t interested in playing with anyone other than Ray, but somehow most people seemed to believe that, since she hadn’t collared him yet, they were both available to play with other partners. It irritated her, but she tried not to show it, and pushed on from one room to the next, still looking for Ray.

Music was playing in the second room, and couples were dancing a waltz, onlookers like her scattered around the periphery of the room. A waitress took her empty glass but Grace barely even noticed, too busy scanning the dancers and looking for Ray, whom she knew loved to dance. It would have helped if she had known what kind of costume he was wearing. She was eyeing a man dressed in a silver suit that covered him from head to toe – some kind of superhero costume, she supposed, judging from the insignia on his chest – and wondering if it could be Ray when a whisper behind her ear startled her so much that she gasped.

“You look beautiful, Mistress.”

She was already grinning when she turned to Ray, and took a moment to look at him, even rotating her finger in the air so he would turn around for her. His kilt flared a little over his legs when he did. He was wearing high socks in the same red and black tartan, a long-sleeved white shirt and a red waistcoat on top of it.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied, which was quite an understatement.

Obviously pleased at the compliment, he offered her his hand. “Would you like to dance, my Lady?”

She nodded and took his hand, allowing him to guide her to the dance floor where they joined the waltzing couples.

“I didn’t know you were of Scottish heritage,” Grace said, tongue in cheek.

Ray grinned. His eyes were sparkling, and she had to control her sudden urge to kiss him.

“Only on Halloween, I’m afraid.”

“That’s a pity, it really suits you. Maybe I’ll have you wear a skirt more often.”

His grin wavered, turning to uncertainty. He did not particularly enjoy cross-dressing, she knew that and had no intention to make him wear women’s clothes, but keeping him on his toes was an art as delicate as a properly executed waltz.

They were both quiet for a little while after that, but Ray’s grin soon returned, and he said, “Aren’t you going to ask, Mistress?”

She could guess what he meant, but she played coy. “Ask what?”

“Ask if I’m following tradition as far as underwear is concerned.”

Grace waited until he had twirled her and she had returned to his arms to reply on a tone of perfect confidence, “I know you’re not.”

Ray was so surprised he missed a step.

“You asked permission to dress up,” Grace continued. “You didn’t ask permission to go around with a bare ass and your goodies hanging where a bit of wind will show them to anyone. So I know you didn’t skip underwear, or you’d already be asking for forgiveness.”

Missing another step in their dance, Ray blinked very slowly. He started frowning, but caught himself and smoothed his features. Letting go of her hand and waist, he dropped down to his knees with a fluidity that came from repeating this very movement thousands of times before.

“Mistress, I am sorry for disobeying you. My only excuse is that I didn’t realize I did.”

Grace nodded gravely. “I accept your apology. But punishment is still in order. Come with me.”

She led the way to the entrance of the playrooms, and requested a private one. She didn’t need to look back to know that Ray was only a step behind her, hands at his back, his head lowered – and a smile on his lips.

She wondered if he would still smile later, when the rough weave of the kilt caressed his sore ass with every step. They would have to dance again, she decided, just so she could figure it out.

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