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Kate was a fetish model, like most of the other girls there. I didn't notice her any more or less than anyone else at first, but when she stopped right in front of me and said ‘Hi, I'm Kate,' with a huge smile on her face that little numb feeling started buzzing at the base of my skull. I almost laughed at how much I instantly liked her. She was gone as quickly as she had come, traipsing past me and flicking out with the riding crop she was holding to gently sting me on the ass.

‘Hey!' I called, but she was through the partition and onto the runway.

I watched her go, rocking her hips side to side in an exaggerated send-up of the fashion model's trot, and my mouth twisted into a puzzled grin despite myself. Fuck she was hot. I mean, all the girls here were hot. It was a fashion show for a fetish clothing designer and the whole event was being put on by a big-name distiller - catering, open bar, hundreds of guests. A lot of money was being spent tonight, and they certainly didn't pinch pennies on the girls.

Kate though, had that smile, and that bold playfulness that said she knew what she wanted and didn't care what anyone thought. Well that, and long straight blonde hair like spun silk down to mid-back and cut with blunt bangs that framed her delicate face, all aristocratic angles and full red lips and cold, glittering green eyes framed by fans of dark, thick lashes. She was nearly was tall as me - probably 5'10 - with long, supple limbs, round, firm breasts, and angular hips that set ...

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