The dinner party was filled with those who came to drank, to eat, to socialize, to show off, and to celebrate. Seated next to Romeo, my hands on my thighs, I'd never felt so nervous. With strangers and foreigners circling me, a dominant sitting right next to me, and submissives shutting the fuck up, I felt totally disregarded and unwelcome. Feeling like I didn't belong to a certain society made me anxious and abnormally silent.
On our way to the table where everybody was seated at, Romeo had told me each and every rule of this place. He told me not to speak unless I was spoken to, address each dominant as "sir", keep my eyes down and smile politely to other submissives. Honestly, I had felt disrespected. Until he told me that if a submissive spoke to me, I could answer back.
Romeo warned me that this dinner was for elite and highly strict BDSM members. That was why the rules were so strict. He didn't forget to add that if I needed to ask him a question, to do it silently. Otherwise, I could do whatever the hell I wanted. Talk about freedom.
Two men had guided us to the table, which was mostly all men, with a few posh ladies and a few girl submissive. The submissive wore white and all looked wonderful. I wanted to meet some, but unfortunately didn't have the privilege to do so. The seating plan was to set dominant, submissive, dominant, with a submissive across a submissive and vice versa.
I had a boy sitting in front of me, his eyes glistening as he looked around without a care. He had a collar around his neck that was black, which suited his fair skin. Although he was stunning, he was looking a little pale and his eyes looked sullen. He had under eyes bags as well, which made me glance at his dominant.
His dominant seemed to be a kind gentlemen, with brown eyes and brown hair yet a gorgeous facial structure. But to me, he couldn't compete with Romeo. He spoke to a lady that seemed to be a dominant as well, supporting a black, sparkly dress. Next to her was her submissive, a sweet-looking girl with blonde, almost white, hair. She seemed very shy, her hair covering her face as she looked down.
The plates in front of us were empty as food hadn't been served yet. Romeo was drinking some red wine that he didn't want me to drink. Submissives were served with delicious virgin cocktails that were sweet as some dominant didn't want their submissives drinking. I was fond of my drink, a fruit cocktail that had really cool rainbow colors added to it.
I sipped on it happily until I heard the boy in front of me whine for some of mine.
"I want what he's having," he whines to his dominant, tugging on his suit as he was speaking to another guest. I knew that I had to keep my eyes down, but I couldn't help but look. He had his own drink, a softer looking cocktail, but his eyes were on mine.
"Finish your drink first and wait for dinner. You can have some later. Also, speak to me with respect," his dom said in strict voice. He seemed to be lenient and tolerant towards such a bratty sub.
"I want some now," the blond pouted, tugging harsher.
Without thinking, I spoke, "You can have a sip of my drink," and pushed my drink towards him. All heads turned to me as I spoke, my body frozen when I met each of their gazes, forgetting the rules. I could feel Romeo's enraged gaze on me, but I refused to meet it. My entire body felt as if I was burning, my throat closing up as I swallowed thickly, tears brimming my eyes.
But my slip-uo was forgotten when waiters and waitresses entered the room, each serving food to everyone. All eyes turned to food as the laughter and chatter resumed. The boy, grinned at me from across, taking my drink and sipping on it.
"Thanks!" He said, grinning cutely. But I know knew that he wasn't cherubic. On the contrary, he was quite devilish. Romeo didn't speak to me after that, but I could feel the anger radiating off him. He had a frown on his face and rage in his eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The Wrath Of The Ice King
RomanceChristopher should've known better than entering an unknown palace when running away from a bunch of delinquents. He shouldn't have ignored the signs telling him that it was bitterly cold there, too dismal. The moment he sat down on his golden thron...