Page 12 of Irresistible Little Ivy

“I’m Ivy.”

If he was a Dom, he wasn’t the kind who gave off those invisible vibes that made me shiver.

Yet he wore his Dom ring, which would go on the collar of whatever submissive he claimed for the week.

Huh, maybe he just wasn’t my kind of Dom.

My own collar was empty and I intended to keep it that way for at least the first day.

I needed to be pickier with my men than my dolls.

We chatted as the crowd of people entered the gym. There were the typical basketball nets on either side of a regulation court, with risers pulled out on one side. I quickly scanned the risers, wondering if Caleb would be here. After I’d returned to my room, utterly exhausted, I’d had a confusing blend of sex dreams about him. When I’d woken up all hot and achy, I’d finished myself off thinking about being bent over a spanking horse and Caleb giving me a good, but not too painful or damaging, spanking.

“Here,” Adam said as he climbed a few stairs of the riser before me, “take my hand so you don’t fall. While I’d love to see what you’re wearing beneath your jean skirt, I don’t want to catch a glimpse while you’re taking a tumble.”

I grasped his hand, noticing how smooth and soft it was. “Thanks again. You’re just saving me from falling all over the place, aren’t you? Makes me glad I decided to wear sneakers instead of heels.”

Adam grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Here, have a seat. If you’re already sitting you’re less likely to trip, right?”

“Ha, ha,” I snarked and sat down as the spaces around me began to fill up. “What classes do you have?”

As we compared our schedules, I let out an internal sigh. Talking with Adam was more like talking with a friend than a potential Dom. He was really cute, but probably a Switch. Or just a gentle guy. Either way, we had no chemistry. He was someone’s Mr. Perfect, just not mine.

Looking back over the crowd, I let my mind wander as Adam told me more about his financial genius. He was in banking or something. I don’t know, I kind of stopped listening. Guys bragging excessively about themselves, while not inquiring about me, was a turn off.

Daydreaming about Caleb, I zoned out and stared into the distance as Adam droned on.

CHAPTER 4

Caleb

Glancing around at the huge group of people gathered together in our mock high school gymnasium (the actual gym of Rawhide University), I tried to do a mental calculation of how much had been raised and gave a low whistle when I reached my final guess. From my estimates, Rawhide should be able to sponsor over fifty kids’ room and board for the next five years for free. And probably then some.

Spirit Week was in huge demand, even though tickets to the event were out of most people’s reach. We’re talking big money. Heck, I would have been dipping heavily into my savings to attend, but Derek had waived my fee. I wasn’t broke by any means, but six figures for a ticket was a little much. Then again, maybe it was a matter of perspective. I mean, this week had sold out in fifteen minutes according to Derek. Judging by the size of the crowd, there were a lot of people who paid that fee without blinking an eye.

And the VIP tickets were a half mill each.

They’d sold out in less thanfive.

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. Who knew there were so many rich kinksters out there? Rawhide certainly had tapped into a hidden and very wealthy market who didn’t mind shelling out the big bucks for a good experience. I could respect that. I mean, if I was loaded with money to burn I’d want to go to events like Spirit Week. This whole event had impressed me, and it hadn’t even begun yet. Just the energy of the crowd was enough to get my heart pumping.

People of all ages milled about as we all headed toward the risers on the far side of the gym. Everyone from groups of singles in their early twenties to a couple who had to be in their mid-seventies chatted and were obviously having a great time. I couldn’t help but smile when I realized the older folks probably knew the authentic 80s vibe better than I did because they’d lived through it. For them, this must feel like reliving their youth. One of the things I enjoyed about Rawhide was the wide variety of ages and people who came here to have fun. Some very, very different people united by their love of kink and self-expression.

The women, both subs and Dommes, wore everything from 80s power suits complete with shoulder pads, to elegant gowns and furs like the old soap-opera stars, to punk, goth, emo, and even nerd. There was a good representation of preppies as well, and even a mustached guy who looked a lot like Tom Selleck. I was glad I’d decided to attend the event, even if things didn’t work out with Ivy. The atmosphere was fun and energetic, charged with an undercurrent of sex that made everything just a little more enjoyable.

Most of the Dominant men wore suits of one kind or another. And there were a lot of Daddy types here. Shit, I wondered if Ivy wanted a Daddy instead of a Master. Only thing was I wasn’t a Daddy. It just wasn’t my thing. So what could I be to Ivy that might interest her? If anything, I was more like her big brother’s best friend. The one her parents warned her to stay away from. The one she couldn’t resist. Yeah, that would work. It fit the image I was currently portraying of a guy in jeans and a hoodie. I wore a faded Metallica t-shirt beneath, but the gym was cold so I kept the hoodie on.

Thankfully I wasn’t the only one not sporting a suit. There were also a good number of guys dressed in the typical preppie and burnout looks, with a few goths and nerds here and there. It was kinda like the makeup of my old high school in an odd way. I gave my head a little shake to snap myself out of my daydreams and focus on my competition. I was sure that I wouldn’t be the only one wanting to collar the lovely Ivy. Her spunky personality and good looks would attract a lot of attention.

Across the room I spied Derek watching me and raised my hand in greeting. Derek gave his chin a subtle lift to the right, and I followed his line of sight to Ivy. My whole body tingled like I’d gotten a mild electrical shock as I took her in. She was even prettier in the light of day, and I couldn’t help but smile as the crowd parted enough for me to catch a full glimpse of her. Her hair had been teased away from her face in big curls, and it gleamed more like rose gold than red in the overhead lights. She wore a pair of pink fishnet over white tights held up by garters, and a distressed jean skirt and matching jacket. Beneath the jacket she wore a couple thin, layered white and pink tank tops that revealed the slight curves of her chest. Small breasts, high and perky with nipples that tipped slightly upward.

I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them.

The crowd around her closed again and I lost sight of her. She was so petite it was easy to miss her, even with her strawberry-blonde hair teased into a cloud. When the crowd parted, I realized she was talking to someone. A guy. My brain suddenly alerted me that the smile on her face, and the posture of her body, had been flirtatious.

Now, I wasn’t a jealous man by nature. I’d had periods of my life where I’d dated multiple women, while they’d been dating multiple men. But once I committed to a woman, I became a tad possessive. Not enough to call the local police and a therapist, but I definitely grew protective. And I did not like other men hitting on my woman.

I almost marched over there, ready to cause a scene, when the screech of a microphone cut through me like a knife. Everyone in the gym clenched their hands to their ears, and the screech stopped, followed by a bit of static before a matronly female voice said, “Hello Class of 1984, welcome to Spirit Week! If you could all make your way to the stands that would be wonderful.”

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