When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Thirteen - Everyone Can See

THIRTEEN

Everyone Can See

Seconds after Catherine has entered the ballroom, what her mind’s scouts return with as their initial report is so unexpected and unsettling that she immediately stops herself from looking into the room with a sharper eye. She instead concentrates her full attention on more cages, which are lined up along the walls of the immense room, with approximately eight feet separating each. She sees that some of them are staffed in the same manner that the ones present in the grand hallway to this grand room were, while others offer different combinations of inmates at play. At work.

The cages in this room are no longer on wheels, but hang instead from the ceiling, with the base of each enclosure resting somewhat lower than most men’s eye-level, thus allowing the masters’ line of sight to travel right into the thick of the entanglement action within each. It is a recurring setup in this association, sight of action at this height, just as is being able to touch the nude performers, which is always allowed. For masters.

When Catherine’s eyes follow all the way up to the ceiling the heavy-duty chains that hold up the cages, she sees that this ceiling was constructed to support such weight, and so, no chance of a cave-in. Unfortunately.

While still looking up, her eyes further discover lovely art, which she can see through gaps within the structure of the equipment that is temporarily mating with the ballroom’s top. The lighting  is dim up there, but Catherine can still make out that an artist spent much time on the design and execution of what she sees. The lighting where she stands is brighter, although not office-bright, but not cozy dim either.

Catherine returns her eyes to the cages and sees that the blends within the ones that are closest to her and Tristan at the moment include two couples working together in one cage, and three women and a man labouring together in another. The cramped quarters only add to the appeal and attraction of the exhibits for the masters who are observing them.

When all the cages are considered as a whole, careful choreography and planning become obvious, since the performances of each enclosure clearly fit into a broader repertoire made up of a variety of sexual positions and tricks intended to please the masters’ varying tastes, as they arrive for the weekend. And one of those masters to be pleased is Tristan.

A few steps ahead of Catherine, he begins to walk down the closest wall lined with cages. As he then pauses to study and to appreciate every intermingling and every nude female form before him in those enclosures, Catherine, as she follows, continues to work hard at not thinking about what is elsewhere within the room. She is so focused on not considering what is there, on not considering what it is that is forcing the cages to line up along the walls because there is no other room available for them in the immense ballroom, that the interlinking and interconnecting of the bodies in the cages, their rhythmic pushing and shoving, rising and falling, along with all the sounds of such activities, whether hushed or loud in order to please all male tastes, therefore maintains her attention as well, her full attention.

In the cage immediately before them now, Catherine sees three different manifestations of breasts. One pair is smaller, rounder, with each breast existing rather independently, due to quite the gap between them. Another pair is bigger, with each breast falling towards an outer side of the woman’s chest. The third pair is so big that each breast falls directly down, leaving no space in between them, but just a straight line down, a “crack” there.

When Catherine’s mind soon seeks another thought to occupy itself with, it refuses to compare in words the areolas of the smallest bumps of fat presently seen before her, to those of the medium ones and those of the mounds of it  jiggling away, and instead finds itself concentrating on the subject of body image. Before implants, models were flat-chested, because, having no fat anywhere else on their body and being so tall and slender, neither did their body store fat in their breasts. Where did I hear that? She nervously asks herself, wanting the babbling in her head to . . .  continue. Consciousness, you are allowed all the words that you want right now, as long as you stay . . . off topic.