so absurd. He had just stripped in front of an entire dance floor full of humans while suspended in a cage wearing a Bondage Shirt of Emasculation.
Ashi stared at him. “What the hell is your problem?”
Christoph gasped for air, wiping his eyes. “Oh my God. Can you imagine if your parents saw you right now? If the pack saw?”
Ashi blinked. He had to think about it.
He grinned. In about thirty seconds he was leaning on the wall next to Christoph, arms wrapped around his sides as he almost choked from laughing so hard.
They could barely calm down enough when they were led out—by the collar—onstage to smile at everyone. They kept their faces straight long enough to set the crowds screaming in appreciation while they waved and were given the kind of introduction only Ken could manage. When they were taken backstage again, they lost it.
“I swear to God,” Christoph wheezed, “we are going to be in so much trouble for tonight.”
Ashi couldn’t respond. He was too busy rolling on the floor, laugh-hiccupping.
A few minutes later, Ken met them backstage along with a number of women, most of whom appeared to be dancers, hanging around in the shadows. His arms were folded, and he did not look happy, though he didn’t rip into them like they were expecting.
“Okay, it wasn’t… horrible. But, Jesus, can you two save the sniping for when you’re not in public?”
“Och, leave off, lad, they did well under the circumstances,” came Clarisse’s unmistakable voice.
It was hard to spot her in the shadows. She came into the light, folding her arms and smiling wryly at the pair.
She was wearing something that looked straight out of an S&M magazine; lots of leather, lots of latex, and lots of chains, with heels on her boots high enough to rival Joy’s. Her long, curly black hair was bundled on top of her head in a severe bun, making her features look a great deal more menacing than usual. Say, like Meg Ryan instead of Shirley Temple.
“Ye did well, lads, and don’t let Ken tell ye otherwise,” she said, holding out her latex-encased hand to Ashi. “Now, as delightful as this is, unless ye want something at the bar, I’d like tae go home and get this bloody piece of work off. I think Mouse does, too.”
Like Clarisse, Mouse was easily overlooked, simply because she looked so much like one of the dancers. It didn’t help that her dark hair fell in a thick curtain, obscuring her features, and that she was deep in shadow, obviously embarrassed. It took Clarisse waving impatiently to get Mouse to come forward, folding her arms across her chest and ducking her head as she sidled to Clarisse’s side.
Her outfit was more like Joy’s; a one-piece, long-sleeved cat suit. The front laced from navel to cleavage, and her jewelry consisted of what appeared to be barbed wire at the wrists, throat, and woven through her hair in places. Her boots were a bit more sensible, low-heeled, quiet, laced all the way up her calves. Judging by some of the scuffs here and there on the shiny material, it wasn’t new. She just felt awkward as hell in it, particularly in front of Christoph.
Christoph tried not to stare.
'This is fulfilling fantasies I didn’t even know I had.'
He wasn’t exactly sure how to react. Mouse was obviously embarrassed and Christoph was feeling embarrassed by her embarrassment. He had never expected to see her in something like that. Hell, he doubted he’d ever expected to see anyone in something like that outside of movies or magazines.
He glanced at Ashi, who was buttoning up his shirt, staring at the floor.
As he often did when he was frightened or embarrassed, his mouth quickly took control of the situation. He pointed at Mouse and blurted, “Hey, how come I didn’t get to wear that?”
Ashi sputtered, then put both hands over his eyes. “Thanks, you just blinded my mind.”
Mouse was startled enough by his comment to gape at him.
Clarisse laughed, reaching out to snag Ashi’s arm and tuck it through her own, waving his hands away from the buttons. “Lad, trust me, if ye knew how much these things chafe, ye’d be glad of what we gave ye.”
She paused.
“Then again, if ye think ye’ll brave those thongs Ken got ye, maybe ye’d do just fine after all.”
Mouse covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Once she got a hold of herself, she held out an arm in a clear