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Alice is hooked into more humiliation.

Despite the presence of so many nude forms, the room had a decidedly formal air to it, which she thought only appropriate given that this was a wedding.

Jen looked at the alcoves more closely, and was pleased to see figures moving within them, bodies writhing against one another. Nothing could be heard over the music, but she could imagine the rest.

She smiled and looked at Ethan. "This is a wedding, Master?"

He smiled back, "Yes. We do like to have our fun."

Ethan took a drink from a passing waiter, and Jen noted with pleasure that the slave was a man for a change, a young handsome fellow whose lean body made her hunger stir within her.

She looked at Ethan again, and he nodded, "This party is for Matthew and Dash, and they have a lot of friends. So Jonathan and I called in some favors to staff the event properly."

He took a sip of his drink. "Besides, you didn't really think the Red Crane only trained women, did you?"

Jen laughed at her own naivet__. For some reason she had.

"No, it trains both. It all depends on what the customer wants. Not my cup of tea, of course, but I do know they consider it a very profitable product line."

She nodded, wondering just how many slaves the Red Crane produced; there must have been at least thirty wait staff working the room.

For the next hour they worked the room, Ethan greeting a number of guests. To Jen, it seemed an endless progression of dominant men paired with younger submissive beauties, though they did meet the occasional woman accompanied by a submissive man. They even met several lesbian couples, who eyed Jen with a barely concealed hunger that made her shrink behind Ethan, afraid of their attentions.

At length, she saw an older man in a dark pinstripe suit approach them, a blonde on his arm whose naked breasts were a testament to the powers of plastic surgery. The older man was very striking, and she realized with a start that she knew him.

"Isn't that ..." she began, before Ethan stilled her with a gentle pressure on her lower back. She looked at him, and he nodded ever so slightly.

"Yes, it is. But it's impolitic to point that out. Our group can be very ... private at these events.

"Now go play," Ethan kissed her lightly on the nose. "I have business to discuss. Take Suchin and enjoy the party. The DJ is quite good"

"Yes, Master." She turned to go, only to stop as he caught her arm tightly.

"But behave yourself; remember what happened at the airport." His brown eyes met hers, the gravity of his command clear.

Jen nodded, "Yes, Master. I'll behave." She turned away and strode off into the crowd with her new companion, knowing she couldn't promise anything.

She heard him greet the new arrival and his slave, heard him address the man as Senator, and then shook her head, choosing instead to focus on the fun before her. Still ... Ethan appeared to have powerful friends.

"Enough talk! Let's dance." Suchin's hand was light and warm in hers, and she let herself be led to the dance floor.

The music throbbed in the near darkness, a pulsing beat that suited the crowd and its blatant excesses.

"Do you like this song?"

She could barely hear her fellow slutslave over the noise, but nodded her affirmation. Suchin smiled and reached behind her head and untied the thin straps that held her shimmering shift. In one flow of liquid metal, it slid down her frame and onto the floor. The Asian caught her eye and winked, and then began to move her body in time with the beat.

Jen watched with a practiced eye as the Asian moved with the music, her naked form almost serpentine in the low light. Strange sigils adorned her small, pert breasts, arcing darts that served to emphasize the curves of her breasts. In this light, she couldn't tell if they were tattoos or not.

Unexpectedly, she found herself enjoying the sight for its own aesthetics, no longer wracked by her own insecurities.

Her time with Ethan seemed to be curing her of her longstanding dislike of her ow

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