by Poppy Flynn
"And what's the atmosphere like in the playroom?" Connor queried.
"It's pretty good. The dungeon monitors work hard keeping things under control. I do wish the club would introduce proper D/s courses, though. They encourage members to go out and find them, but there's no specific requirement and there's no verification on the courses some people do find." Laurel huffed, clearly irritated at the fact. "And let me tell you, some of those courses are run by complete idiots who know sweet f/a and are only interested in making a quick buck!"
Connor pursed his lips in contemplation. He wondered if that was the reason the club was up for sale. Serious lifestylers wanted to know they were in a protected and secure environment. They wanted the peace of mind of knowing that everyone was playing by the same set of rules. He knew the club safeguarded their members as far as sexual health was concerned, since he had been required to provide specific medical screening dated within the last three months in order to be allowed in, even as a guest, but Connor made a mental note to see if they demanded it from him, rather than to just offer it up himself.
"Have there been any issues?"
Laurel frowned and looked at him questioningly. "Not really, we might get the odd pretender who thinks he knows how to wield a whip, but the experienced members, whether Doms or subs can pick those out easily enough. It gets a little dicey if you end up with two complete newbs latching on to each other, but as I said, the DMs work hard."
"But they wouldn't have to work quite so hard, if all the members had adequate training." Connor put into words the opinion that Laurel had implied but not verbalised.
Laurel frowned, clearly bristling at the dig against her club, even if it was one she certainly agreed with.
"I'm not criticising," Connor clarified. "Just stating facts. The club I use at home has extremely high standards."
"Club Risqué?" Laurel quizzed.
"Yes," Connor said simply.
Laurel had heard of the premier south coast club. Pretty much anyone who was serious in the lifestyle had. It was reputed to be one of the most exclusive and highly respected clubs in the entire country. The fact that Connor was a member made Laurel forget the momentary indignation she had felt at his subtle censure of Perversions. He was absolutely right, of course, she had just taken it a little too personally because, good or bad, this was her personal hangout. But that irritation had been completely swept away with the knowledge that if Connor Griffin was a bona fide member of Club Risqué, then he really was in a league of his own. Truly a master among Doms, he was going to leave the regular club members she scened with standing in a really big shadow.
The very thought had her insides quivering and her girly bits weeping. Laurel took a new interest in their surroundings and exhaled an audible, breathy sigh that they were in sight of the building.
Chapter 3
Connor heard the husky, breathy little moan that slipped from Laurel's lips. He wasn't certain what had caused it, but the sound went straight to his dick. Instantly, he was as hard as he had been when Laurel had opened the door to him earlier and he'd gotten an eyeful of her, dressed to kill, in a tiny skirt and a corset that displayed her curvy figure to its full advantage. The sophisticated look had been a surprise to him. He had imagined she'd wear something slutty and overblown and that would have been just fine with him. Easier to ignore, in fact, than the outfit she'd presented herself to him in, with its touch of elegance that he hadn't been prepared for. It screamed at him that Laurel was not as easily pigeon-holed as he wanted her to be. That she wouldn't be as easy to brush aside as his usual playmates, whom he respected, of course, but whom he chose deliberately for their lack of long-term appeal.
The very idea had made him withdraw into himself more than usual on the drive here. But instead of pushing him and irritating him with inane chatter and prying questions like he had expected her to, like he had silently willed her to so that he could once again relegate her to 'informal fuck' status and know that she would never upset his equilibrium, Laurel had kept quiet and waited him out. Connor wanted nothing more than a casual playmate, but his admiration for Laurel only grew, especially when she revealed that she had gone to the trouble of finding a reliable submissive training course when there had been no obligation for her to do so. It proved that she took the lifestyle seriously.
And what was going on underneath that flippy little skirt she was wearing? The damn thing barely covered her ass, but when she walked, he got tempting little glimpses of the underside of her butt cheeks. And that wasn't all. There were teasing little hints that something else was going on under there. He thought he had spied pearls at one point, and that had blown his mind and made his fingers itch to investigate. He had watched her rear end all the way from her apartment to his rental car for another glance at whatever Laurel was hiding underneath her clothes, but without any luck.
Damn the girl. He couldn't remember the last time any woman, vanilla or lifestyle—and he was equally partial to both—had intrigued him as much as this one. And, despite the fact that his cock was hard enough to hammer nails, that fascination didn't actually sit well with him. He didn't want to be attracted to a woman on anything other than a sexual level. Maybe he had made a mistake involving himself with someone from Universal Holdings, whom he was going to be forced into having some kind of working relationship with however the take-over bid played out, but damned if he wasn't going to compound that mistake, because there was no way on this earth that Connor was going to walk away from this. Even though his gut was screaming at him that the most sensible course of action, for his peace of mind, would be to back off, keep it platonic, have a drink and let her show him around, his cock was in full control right now. And his cock was leading him right up those steps towards the unassuming steel double doors of the unmarked entrance and was making it quite clear that it wasn't going to settle for anything less than being buried in Laurel's lush, voluptuous body after an equally satisfying scene. And right up there with his cock was his big right hand, which was desperate to spank that luscious, juicy ass that she kept enticing him with.
That irksome little voice whispering warnings at the back of his mind? Hell, no, that sucker didn't stand a chance.
Connor held back, once they got through the door and into the unassuming foyer, and watched everything with a critical business eye, temporarily diverting his attention from Laurel's all too obvious attributes.
He was relieved that he managed to concentrate on something other than the woman who had led him here, but then the lure of finding another club to buy was equally enticing and the businessman in him was as ingrained as the Dom. In fact, Connor was convinced that you needed a large dose of Dom inside you to succeed in the business world. The control, the focus, and the skill at negotiation went hand in hand for both.
He watched the process whereby members were checked in and tried to discern any difference between the verification of the different membership tiers.
He allowed Laurel to take the lead when their turn came, since he was her guest.
"Hi, Lily, I'm bringing a visitor up to the playroom tonight," she told the young girl behind the desk.
"Um, okay." Lily frowned. "Has he been before?"
"No," Laurel told her, plonking down her bank card on the desk to pay the cover charge. Connor swiftly replaced it with his own. He might be her guest, but he wasn't allowing her to pay for him.
Both women swung their eyes his way. Connor just raised an eyebrow at Laurel until she bowed her head obediently. The other girl looked from him to Laurel, but his good little submissive just gave a single nod, while keeping her head down.
Lily obviously got the message. She took his card but looked him straight in the eye as she told him in no uncertain terms, "I need to see a current medical certificate if you're going upstairs, some form of photographic ID, and you'll also need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."
Connor nodded in satisfaction as she checked his documents and handed him a pen to get hi
s signature. He read through the contract carefully. It wasn't as strong as it could be, but it was a damn sight better than nothing at all.
"Good work, pet," he complimented as she returned his bank card to him. Lily's cheeks pinked adorably, and she dipped her own head at his unexpected praise. She was a tiny, fairy looking thing that appeared as if she might be blown away by half a gust of wind, but the girl obviously had backbone. She reminded Connor of Trinity, a club sub they had recently decided to promote to bar manager back at Club Risqué.
Laurel was supremely aware of Connor at her back as she made her way from the quiet, unassuming reception area and through a pair of wooden double doors into the stroking lights and the wall of sound that made it feel like you'd just fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. Five years on and that same experience never got old. And with the writhing mass of scantily clad bodies, the smorgasbord of live sex, and every imaginable kind of fetish being played out on the platforms above the dance floor, it really was like walking into another dimension.
As soon as they cleared the entranceway, Laurel stopped so that Connor could get his bearings and take a look around.
Perversions was very different from Club Risqué in many ways. From her own internet searches, Laurel knew that the south coast club, where Connor spent his time, was old school luxury and elegance with the regal ambience of an old-fashioned gentleman's club. There was no noisy, salacious dance floor banging out grungy grime music and plastered with an undulating sea of bodies. The feel at Perversions was stark and industrial with a much younger vibe and worked very much on two levels. One for those who wanted to participate and another level, which was strictly voyeuristic.
Right now, on a platform above their heads, was a completely naked woman spread eagle with her ankles locked into a spreader bar and her wrists cuffed to individual chains that dangled from the ceiling. She was surrounded by a female Domme who was busy with a flogger while a male submissive, with his genitals secured into a metal cock and ball cage, sucked on her clit and fucked her with his fingers. Above the reverberation of the music, hidden microphones were strategically placed to capture the cacophony of moans and screams of pleasure-pain from this platform, and the many like it, and broadcast them slightly above the resonance of the other sounds for everyone to hear. It was almost subliminal but completely erotic. Laurel didn't know of any other club in the world that put on a show like this one. As far as she was aware, this place was completely unique. She knew the business was for sale. It wasn't common knowledge, but the rumour mill was unrelenting. Laurel could only hope that the new owners would be sympathetic in their treatment of the club and make the improvements that she knew were there to be made, without destroying the distinctive core of the venue.
Turning to Connor, Laurel shouted above the din, "What do you want to do first?"
Connor was definitely a man who knew his own mind. "I'd like to get a drink and look around here for a while before we go upstairs," he replied without pause.
Laurel just nodded her agreement and headed towards the slightly quieter bar area. It was far too noisy to engage in any unnecessary conversation.
After putting in their drink order, getting her membership card scanned to log the purchase, and receiving yellow wrist bands that indicated that each of them had each purchased one alcoholic beverage—more than two and they would be prohibited from participating in the playroom; BDSM and alcohol did not mix—they resumed their perusal of the downstairs area of the club.
"What do you think?" Laurel couldn't help asking after a good ten minutes of looking around. She was dying to know how this compared with what Connor was used to.
"The place has good bones," Connor replied cryptically. "And a lot of potential." Though his answer seemed slightly odd to Laurel, she put it down to him being a business man.
"How does it compare to Club Risqué?" she probed more specifically.
"It's different," Connor responded without hesitation. He was quiet for a moment and then his gaze found hers. "That's not a criticism, it's just a fact. Here in this area, it's almost impossible to compare. Upstairs, though, I imagine it will be a different matter."
"Ready to take a look and make that assessment, then?"
Connor grinned and immediately it dissipated his somewhat daunting countenance, replacing it with what Laurel could only describe as a 'mischievous little kid' kind of look which she found almost as appealing as the whole aura of Dom thing he had going on.
Connor noted that although there were two levels of membership that pretty much related to the two floors within the building, there wasn't much separation between them.
Laurel led him up a wide steel staircase on the far side of the room. It was in a dark, quiet area, away from the dance floor and opposite the bustle of the bar, but it was by no means hidden or roped off from the rest of the room. There was a small sign on the wall at the bottom of the steps stating, 'Members only', but nothing that distinguished the different membership tiers, so he had to wonder why any member wouldn't just wander up there. At the top, there was a bored looking, bouncer-type guy with a hand-held scanner. He took Laurel's membership card and scanned it before checking their wrist bands and ushering them past him. Connor couldn't help thinking it wouldn't be that difficult for somebody to gate crash.
He found himself in a wide corridor with rooms along one side. As far as he could see, all the rooms looked the same, very sterile, cold steel and each of them outfitted with the same items. Nothing whatsoever to distinguish one from another.
The rooms were generously sized with standing space for viewers inside the room, as well as in the corridor outside the wide, full-length windows. But none contained beds or even a sitting area, just straightforward equipment like a spanking bench and St. Andrew's cross and an uncomfortable looking, adjustable height, wide, steel table with fixing rings strategically placed around its edges, and a single metal chair which boasted two mercifully plump pillows. At the end of the corridor were two doors which appeared to lead to the suites which, he'd read online, could be rented for the entire night, but otherwise, it was all very basic and there didn't seem to be any communal area, except for the wide hallway they stood in now, where the Doms and subs could mingle and negotiate scenes. It was a far cry from Club Risqué luxurious, individually themed rooms and the public dungeon with its multitude of different stations and seating, where everyone could mingle, or scene, or perform aftercare, or maybe just watch in one of the many comfortable seating arrangements.
"I take it nobody really bothers much with role-play," Connor commented as he observed that no one seemed to be wearing anything but straight forward fetish wear.
"There is a little, but it takes a bit of imagination and mostly only consists of 'age-play'," Laurel confirmed.
"Are there any aftercare rooms?"
"No, that needs to be done inside the playrooms, during the hire period."
"What if a sub requires more time?" Connor all but snapped, making Laurel start.
She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Then they usually go down to the bar or take it home," she mumbled.
Connor frowned fiercely, and she felt obliged to expand her answer. "Look, the Doms here are responsible people. They do what they need to do," she defended.
Connor sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so disparaging. I just feel strongly about best practice when it comes to BDSM."
"Perhaps we should just head back downstairs if you're not comfortable with the way things are set up here," Laurel returned stiffly.
"No, you're right," Connor deferred. "I've watched the DMs; I can see how carefully they're doing their jobs. It just shook me a little to see how easy it could be for anyone downstairs to walk up here, regardless of their membership."
Laurel frowned and looked over at the bouncer at the top of the stairs. Right now, there were a few members waiting to be waved through. Even as she watched, she saw a man push past impatiently, skipping the scan altogethe
r. She recognised him as one of the regular Doms, but Connor was right, he might have been anyone. She breathed a sigh of satisfaction when the bouncer moved away from the line to stop him then frowned deeper as she realised the implication. In turning away from his post at the screening station, albeit to intervene with someone who had tried to slip through, the bouncer had unwittingly left the entryway open to anyone else who might take it upon themselves to sneak in. The insight wasn't an encouraging one.
Connor seemed to realise her sudden unease because he took her hand. "Come on. The club has run for a lot of years without any major mishaps," he deflected soothingly. "I appreciate the fact that the Doms are responsible, and the DMs know their job. I've been spoiled, that's all, with thumb print security and the guarantee that everyone at Club Risqué has to have gone through training and a psyche evaluation prior to being granted membership."
He pulled her along towards an empty playroom. "I know there's a whole other world outside my own club which works in a completely different way. I'm just not used to it."
He caught the Dungeon Monitor's eye and gestured towards the free room, indicating his interest. The two-hour booking complete, Connor drew her into the room and initially closed the door as well as the blinds, shutting out the rest of the world momentarily.
"What I do know…" he murmured, drawing Laurel into his muscled chest with strong but gentle arms. "…is that you and I are both suitably trained and that the DMs have my complete confidence."
With that, he twisted her ponytail around his hand to manoeuvre her head and keep it still, and then he plundered her mouth with his own.
There was nothing easy or gentle about Connor's kiss; it was a demand that gave way to ownership as he plunged his tongue decisively between her teeth and simply consumed her while his free hand moved to bracket her jaw. There was no tender easing into this first meeting of mouths. His tongue thrust in and out in a calculated mimicry of vigorous intercourse that left her breathless.
