Chapter 4
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 than five .
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.”
I followed the direction of the voice and found Professor Renard from the university wearing a blue floral dress, standing on a podium and speaking into a microphone. The crowd around me shifted, and I found myself being herded into a seat on the risers not too far away from where Ivy sat next to a blond guy in maybe his late thirties. He wore a blue polo shirt with the collar turned up, a white sweater draped over his broad shoulders, and had gleaming white teeth. Good looking, and he seemed to be into Ivy.
Not that I could blame him, but still, fuck that guy.
People grumbled and protested, but the seats weren’t too packed so that it took much persuading to get people to move so I could sit next to Ivy.
A hint of sweetness, cut with a musky undertone hit my senses as I leaned into her so I could say in a low voice, “Hey, Ivy, nice to see you again.”
She looked away from Captain Preppie, as my jealousy had dubbed him, and at me with a hint of confusion. Her lips parted slightly while her gaze traveled over my face, the amber flecks in her light green eyes clearly visible in the light shining in from the gym’s multitude of windows. Outside, snow still covered every surface and radiated the sunlight back into the massive space.
“Oh, Caleb,” Ivy said as she leaned back a little, still studying me. “You look very different without a suit on. And your hair…”
I gave her a brief grin and ran my hands over my heavily gelled and slicked back hair. “My good friend’s eleven-year-old daughter, June, styled it for me. She said it made me look like Jake from that old Molly Ringwald movie. Since June loves watching old 80s movies, I figured I’d leave my styling in her expert hands.”
She gave a double blink, then a genuine smile. “Well, June did an amazing job. You look like a totally different person.”
“Thanks, I think?”
On the podium, the Professor Renard outlined the agenda for Spirit Week, going over each event. I was already familiar with them all. I’d studied the course last night before I caught a few hours of broken sleep. Captain Preppie leaned forward slightly and said something to recapture Ivy’s attention, all while giving me a narrow-eyed look. Yeah, buddy, keep glaring. I’m not going anywhere.
Ivy’s hand went up to toy with the edge of the collar of her denim jacket as she quietly giggled, and the little green and pink crystals embedded along the collar glittered when she turned to face the speaker. She’d painted her lips with some kind of super glossy pink lipstick that I wanted smeared all over my dick in the worst way. When her eyes finally returned to mine, I let her see how much I wanted her.
It must have worked, because her cheeks pinked up nicely, even beneath the makeup that she wore like a suit of armor. Not that it looked bad on her, just the opposite. The dark eyeliner made her eyes practically glow, and her hair positively flamed in the sunlight. And that lip gloss… fuck me.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” I growled out as her lips parted.
Captain Preppie said in a slightly annoyed voice, “Hey, do you mind? I’m trying to listen to what they’re saying.”
Around us lots of people were talking in low voices, but Ivy ducked her head and whispered, “Sorry, Adam.”
Of course his name was Adam.
Chief Lawson Berringer, the head of Rawhide’s security was on the podium now, glaring at the audience as he went over the Ranch’s rules. Number one being consent. He also reminded them that a staff therapist was available 24/7 if they needed someone to talk to and began his authoritative speech about the different areas of the Ranch that were off limits, and why. I’d received this same speech when I’d been hired.
Out of the corner of my eye, I snuck a glance at Ivy and found her studiously listening to everything Chief Berringer was saying.
Or at least she was trying to.
She kept glancing between me and Captain Preppie.
I hated to admit it, but he was a good-looking guy who was obviously interested in her.
Her leg accidentally brushed mine as she shifted and I moved subtly so our legs stayed pressed against each other. She froze but didn’t move or protest. I grew hyperaware of her, of the feeling of her body against mine, of how close she was to me. Yet off limits. I looked away with a small smile as I gently chided myself for forgetting how much fun high school flirting could be. This wasn’t a bar hookup where we both knew the drill, this was that fun “first time for everything” phase.
Playing hard to get was part of that for some people.
Captain Preppie leaned over and whispered something in Ivy’s ear as he placed a possessive hand on one of her fishnet clad thighs.
Irritation flashed through me in a prickling wave as I grit my teeth against the urge to remove his hand from her body. Forcibly. Her soft laughter and whispers back only further aggravated me and I forced myself not to give the asshole the satisfaction of letting me know their flirting bothered me.
“Caleb,” a woman whisper hissed, “move over, let us sit by you.”
I let out an inner groan as Georgiana and Petal stood next to me, dressed up in an odd, yet sexy mixture of cat and high school student. While their well-honed bodies certainly rocked the short purple and black plaid skirt paired with a tied white shirt combo, it was their faces that caught my notice. Everyone around us was whispering and pointing at the two women who were preening beneath the attention.
Georgiana and Petal wore the full facial prosthetics that they were famous for. Their skilled application and cutting-edge prosthetics really made them look like a pretty feline/human hybrid. This look was not casually achieved. All of their drama and foolish behavior aside, the women were very intelligent and driven. Petal and Georgiana had both attended Special FX makeup schools, had worked on multiple movie sets, and were extremely talented. Each had even done bit parts in various projects and had learned some decent acting skills along the way. The two women, then known as Lisa and Ami, had created the cat characters of Georgiana and Petal during Covid lockdown.
They’d started their own social media instructional podcast and three million subscriptions a month later, they made their kink of choice their full-time gig. Hence the reason why I wanted them to do a guest lecture series at the Ranch. I had a feeling it would be well attended and Derek had given me the okay to do so.
But the women were in high demand and only took the jobs they wanted.
And Derek wanted them to do a guest speaker gig at Rawhide.
Seeing both of them preening beneath the attention certainly helped our cause.
The couple behind us grumped about not being allowed to have their cellphones so they could take a selfie with the women.
When Petal spoke in a hushed hiss, her white and pink robotic cat ears shifted gently with her words. “Caleb, come on. Please make room. Everyone is looking at us. We’re late because Georgiana decided to change midway through her makeup.”
Georgiana sported a pair of calico cat ears, and a wig that gave her red, black, orange and white hair. She gave me a pleading look that was oddly cute with her cat makeup. Sort of like the big-eyed kittens in those old velvet paintings you see in movies.
Ivy had gone stiff next to me, and I noticed Captain Preppie giving the women an appreciative look and inspiration struck.
I pointed to the empty space on the riser in front of Captain Preppie. “Ladies, you can sit there. We have no room.”
“Yeah.” Captain Preppie beamed at the women, his attention on them like a hungry dog spotting a giant Christmas ham. “There’s plenty of room over here.” He held out his hands to both women at the same time, flexing and giving them a blinding white smile filled with perfect teeth. “Here, let me help you.”
The women both smiled at him and batted their lashes, each holding his hand in turn as he laid on the charm.
On the stage, Grant Chambers explained the conduct expected in classes and went over the heat levels of each class. They ranged from “pure as the undriven snow” to “you filthy perv” where anything goes. The crowd laughed at this, and the dean thanked them again for their contributions, and went over the stories of some of the students their donations would be helping. I glanced over at Captain Preppie, wondering what he did that afforded him a ticket to Spirit Week.
And I had to swallow back a laugh that left me coughing a little.
Captain Preppie was leaning forward so much he was in danger of falling into Petal’s abundant cleavage exposed by her mostly unbuttoned white shirt. The girls were lapping up his attention, and I had a feeling Captain Preppie was going to get lucky tonight. Georgiana placed her hand on Captain Preppie’s knee and said something that had the other man blushing.
Next to me, Ivy sighed.
I looked over, expecting to see her upset or mad, but she appeared more bemused than anything else.
She caught me looking at her, then leaned over and said in a whisper, “They are going to eat his poor, dumb ass alive.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I whispered back. “Not that I object. As your older brother’s disreputable best friend, it’s my job to make sure no one messes with you. I have to chase the riff raff away, you know.”
She gaped at me for a moment, then mouthed the words older brother’s best friend , and giggled. “Is that who you are? Someone my older brother asked to keep an eye on me?”
“Yep,” I said with utter confidence as I waited for her to protest, but she merely grinned. “Told him I’d keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble. Little does he know that all I really want to do is corrupt you in every way possible.”
She lifted her chin and gave me a defiant look that had a shiver of anticipation rolling through me and settling in my cock.
“Fine, then I’m your best friend’s bratty younger sister.” Her pretty lips twisted into a smile that was nothing but trouble. “Which means it’s my job in life to make you miserable. That’s what bratty little sisters do.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her devious little grin. “Be careful. I’m not going to put up with your shit like your brother does. You can’t charm me out of punishing you. That means no sneaking off to parties or skipping class.”
Her eyes positively twinkled at what was pretty much a dare. There was an event tonight called “Underage Bar Hop” where all the women got “fake” ids and went to a pretend bar. Then later tonight there was a “Friend’s Parents are out of Town” party in one of the conference rooms the staff at Rawhide had modified into a giant basement. There were couches, bean bags, pool tables, air hockey tables, old-school arcade games and a huge snack and drink bar.
“And,” I said in my best menacing voice, made all the more real by the jealousy clenching my gut, “if you go to the Submissive Sleepover tomorrow there better not be any funny business with boys. Understood?”
Her little chin lifted as she said, “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”
“No, I’m not.” I leaned forward so my lips brushed her ear as I whispered, “I’m worse.”
She gave me an exquisite pout as she said in a low voice, “That’s not fair. Everyone will be having fun except for me. It’s not like there’s going to be any boys there. The boy subbies are having their own sleepover on the other side of campus. It’ll be just us subbie girls playing together. You know, practicing how to kiss and stuff like that.”
I studied her, then asked, “Practicing how to kiss on each other?”
“Yep.” She slowly licked her lower lip as she gave me big eyes.
The urge to shove my hand between her legs and see how wet she was tormented me as her green eyes darkened with desire. It didn’t matter that we were literally in a gymnasium full of people, I wanted to feel how turned on she was. Electricity danced along my skin as I laid my hand lightly on her fishnet clad thigh.
“Would you like that?” I asked softly as I trailed my fingertips back and forth on her supple leg, noting the way her breathing hitched as I rose slightly into my Dom space. “Might be nice to have your first kiss be with another soft, sweet, hot girl. Someone to break you in gently… because, Ivy?”
She stared at me as my fingers went an inch higher, now playing with her inner thigh as she obediently spread her legs.
Beautiful.
“Yes, Caleb?” she asked as she trembled beneath my hand.
“If I was to be your first kiss, I’d ruin you. I’d own that pretty, shiny mouth. I’d fill it with my tongue first, and then my cock. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself with a kiss, so it’s probably a good idea for you to practice first with girls.”
“B-ut… but,” she stammered as my fingertips dipped beneath her short skirt, dangerously high on her thigh now. “My brother would kill you.”
“Maybe, but he’s not here, is he?” Her thighs parted and she scooted forward slightly, pressing her wet panties against the side of my hand. “Oh, Ivy, you’re just begging me to get us both expelled on the first day of school.”
I gave her clit a gentle fifteen-second massage before I pulled my hand away, then smelled my fingers.
She flushed a hot pink as I held her gaze and took another inhale. “I’m going to eat the fuck out of that little pussy of yours, Ivy.”
“Who says I’m going to let you?” she asked in a breathy voice as she rearranged her skirt and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. “You act like I’m yours already.”
I gently slid my hand around the nape of her neck, giving her plenty of time to pull away. When she didn’t, I tightened my grip and leaned forward, brushing my lips over her forehead, then down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. There I placed a soft kiss, enjoying how she reacted to me. Her body leaned into mine, her pulse slamming against my fingers resting against the side of her throat. And when she pressed her thighs together, a soft moan escaped her.
“Eyes on me,” I growled, waiting until she met my gaze. “Don’t make any mistakes, I’ll let you play and have fun, but you are mine, Ivy.”
A spark of mischief flared to life in her gaze as she gently pulled out of my hold and said, “Maybe. Class is about to start. I better get going since I really don’t want to be kicked out of school on the first day.”
“Let me see your schedule.”
She handed it over without complaint, her nipples still rock hard against her thin layered tank tops. People moved in a steady flow around us, while Captain Preppie made his way down the stairs with a kitten on each arm. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he was beaming like he’d won the lottery. Maybe for him, he had. For me, the real prize was handing over her schedule as ordered like a good little girl.
Glancing down, I saw that we only had two classes together, “The Art of the Tease” before lunch and “Erogenous Zones” after. I’d barely see her. Disappointment filled me, but I’d told Mason to sign me up for whatever classes I could get into. I probably could have accessed Ivy’s information to see what she had signed up for, but that felt like cheating. It somehow seemed important that we start on an even playing field. That discovering who she was slowly was a sensual delight in itself.
We started to walk down the stairs together, catching up to the stragglers as Ivy gave a weird laugh.
“What?” I asked her with a grin.
She blushed, but met my eyes as she said, “Walking around with wet panties is not fun.”
A low growl echoed in my words as I said, “You’re just begging me to make you miss your first class.”
She skipped ahead of me, light on her feet and graceful. “No way. I’ve been looking forward to this for months. You’ll just have to wait until our next class together to try and kidnap me.”
With that she ran off, and I put a hustle in my own step. I didn’t want to be late for my first class, all about the latest in sex-toy technology. There was some really cool stuff on the market, and we had a toy inventor giving us a sneak peek at his new line. Maybe I’d find something new that Ivy would like.