CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
2003- Utility Player
Marisol finally resurfaced in late August, all tanned and dewy. One week in Cozumel had evolved into a month of exploring the natural wonders of the Yucatán Peninsula. That sounded so incredibly cushy and exotic. It also reminded me of how Mundo left me in the dust to go “take care of business” in “Honduras.”
To be fair, Marisol did eventually feel close enough to me to let me know that the guy who took her, her main sponsor, had an unshakeable scat kink and she’d had to spend most of her time eating refried beans and raw hot peppers, so she could squirt acidic diarrhea all over him- and then clean it up with the sponsor’s favorite ammonia-soaked rag. Yes, the man traveled on a tropical getaway with his very own kink rag. Could you imagine literally looking like you just stepped off a Paris runway and yet you still have to earn your money by burning out your asshole shitting on some creepy freak?
But at the time, when everything was still hitting me at an easy breezy and surface level, I thought nothing could be better than the life Marisol had designed.
But there wasn’t much time to daydream- Marisol and Donya were about to drum up some business centered around the more elaborate BDSM work that they usually didn’t bother fucking with. I sat around with them as they spitballed ideas. For the most part I stayed silent, but dropped a few suggestions here and there.
“How about a combo sensory deprivation/sensory arousal session?” Marisol threw out. “I really wish we could afford to splurge on an actual sensory deprivation tank, but in the meantime I’m sure we can come up with some decent workarounds.”
“Ooh, that sounds cool,” agreed Donya. “We could get some thick latex hoods and, like, those neoprene gloves and booties that surfers wear, plus we have the soundproofed closet. Give them an hour alone with themselves, then follow it up with a little fire and ice show- you know, with all the greatest hits.”
“I could definitely come up with some things to add to the ‘fire’ part of the equation,” Marisol said. “All those hot peppers I had to eat in Mexico taught me a thing or two.”
I cackled. That off-hand comment would hit so much harder when I finally knew the full story of her vacation.
The final list of ideas was pretty good, for two chicks operating one small playroom. A shibari session and ropes play demonstration were casually mentioned but I purposely kept my mouth shut and my expression blank.
Donya and Marisol ended their brainstorming, thanked me for my contributions and immediately jumped into shaking the phone tree to see who’d bite.
The dungeon was about to see some action and I was gonna be directly across the hall from whatever was about to go down.
I hadn’t been asked to join the team yet, but I already knew I wouldn’t say no.
