Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5)

by Maddie Taylor

  The image of his girl in pink leather was forever imprinted on his brain. He couldn’t decide if she came across as sweet like cotton candy that melted the instant it hit the tongue, or more like a sexy kitten ready to purr and arch into her Master’s stroking hand. She looked innocent and at the same time sinfully wicked. Every red-blooded straight man in the club would think so too, but he had a surprise in his pocket, one that would stake his claim and keep any overeager Dom at bay.

  “Ready?” he asked after she stopped fiddling with her mask.

  “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

  “You sound like you’re going to a dental appointment. Lighten up and have some fun.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You’ll try who?”

  “I’ll try, Master.”

  “Good girl, let’s head on in.”

  With his hand clasping her small shaky one, he opened the door. A blast of loud music and the pungent scent of leather hit them full in the face as they entered The Gilded Cage.

  * * * * *

  Standing in the understated lobby as Sean filled out some required forms, gave Mara a chance to check things out. She was vaguely disappointed, not really knowing what to expect, except more. A coatroom and high counter were everything of note, other than a set of black lacquered single paneled double doors on the far wall. Nothing distinctive about them really, the hardware, a stainless steel lever handle, also quite common. The walls were an unexceptional battleship gray. Visually it was ordinary. However, the sounds originating behind the nondescript doors were anything but, in particular, the loud metal music and the distinctive whoosh and thwap of a flogger hitting bare skin. As the two discordant sounds melded surprisingly well together, Mara realized she was like Dorothy and this definitely wasn’t Kansas. A woman’s strident cry and the shrill shriek of another, male or female, she couldn’t tell which, both obviously in the throes of carnal delight, weren’t the least bit understated or nondescript.

  The lobby was staffed by a wafer-thin woman in Goth makeup. As she helped Sean, Mara took in her appearance, from the jet-black hair that contrasted starkly with her pallid complexion, to the black leather bustier, which cupped her almost non-existent breasts. In place of a skirt, she wore only a tiny thong. Her white cheeks were bare except for a tattoo which boldly stated in flowing script: Property of Baron. Mara’s eyes shot up to her spiked collar to find a matching tag. She was speaking in little more than a whisper. Stepping closer, Mara had to strain to hear.

  “The Baron is expecting you and will be out shortly. You may wait in the lounge if you’d like.”

  Their unconventional hostess pointed out another set of doors which Mara had missed. Easily overlooked since they were gray, only a shade of two darker than the walls. As far as she could tell, there were no sex and discipline noises coming from that direction. As they started toward the lounge, another shrill scream split the air. Her attention shifted back to the black doors.

  As if by magic, a tall man had appeared, or had he been there all along? Dressed all in black, he blended in with the doors at his back. He was tall, surpassing Sean’s six foot three by several inches, but lanky, without Sean’s muscled build. He made up for his lack of substance with his intimidating and intense black stare, however. Yes, his eyes were black as was his hair, eyebrows and the scruff of his five o’clock shadow. Enhancing his daunting presence was his monochromatic attire, also in unrelenting midnight black and surprisingly, none of it was leather. Rather than a Dom at a sex club, the impression he gave was more of a model out of a men’s fashion magazine, if it was a freakin’ scary type of men’s fashion magazine. Lastly, and certainly not something she hadn’t noted right off, he was handsome, not Sean’s heart stopping, panty dropping classical type of good looks, but dark, mysterious, James Bond good looks. No, a better word was striking. He wasn’t at all what she expected.

  He was giving them both a thorough once over until Sean pulled her coat from her shoulders, then his gaze riveted on Mara and he began a slow detailed perusal of her from top to bottom. Well, almost the top. He started somewhere around her breasts left nearly bare by her corset, wending down her body and legs before stopping on her pink high-heels. Her face didn’t come into the equation, as if she didn’t exist above the neck. She was proven wrong the next instant when his lips turned up slightly and his eyes shot upward. After an intense moment where he slowly traced her features, they dipped to her collar and tag. Regret flickered across his face, she was sure, but then he inclined his head to Sean in acknowledgement.

  “Baron Forsythe.” Although she saw him speak, the low rumbling of his deep bass echoing like thunder in the small lobby made her jump. As he moved forward, extending his hand to Sean, he overshadowed her above average height. Instinctively, she moved closer to Sean.

  Two things surprised her. First, that he could be polite because up until now, he hadn’t displayed any social niceties. Second, that she didn’t fall to her knees in relief to be out from under his intense scrutiny. If all the Doms in The Gilded Cage were like him, she and Sean were going to have an early night.

  He must have sensed her unease and slid his hand around her opposite hip, pulling her into his side. “Master Sean,” he returned as he took the man’s hand and pumped it once. “This pretty pink confection is my sub Mara.”

  Eyes blacker than pitch flicked to her face before switching back to Sean.

  “Always glad to have first timers. Your girl is pure temptation in pink, as sweet and appealing as bubble gum. I’d keep a close watch. We have a few AP Doms who are seeking a little. She is going to catch their eye.”

  “I’ve got that covered.”

  Mara had no idea what they meant and turned to ask Sean, losing her thought as she watched him withdraw a three-foot long leather leash from his pocket. As he clipped it to her collar, her jaw dropped. It stayed that way until his finger beneath her chin lifted and she closed her mouth.

  “It’s for safety,” he explained, “this way we can’t get separated.”

  “Holding my hand wouldn’t have done the same?” she inquired saucily at last finding her tongue.

  “Oh ho!” The Baron’s resounding laugh had them turning. “Either her sweet packaging is deceiving and you have a S.A.M. on your hands, or she needs a bit more training. You’re in the right place, my friend. We have everything you need for that.”

  Mara stiffened, as Sean’s hand wrapped around the back of her neck. “She is new, Master Baron. Tonight is her first club visit, but that doesn’t excuse disrespect. I’ll see to her correction after we’ve had a chance to look around and get the feel for your club.”

  “Excellent. Oh, and please, drop the title, Master Baron sounds a bit too—”

  “Pompous?” Mara supplied before she could stop herself.

  “Mara, behave,” Sean hissed, his fingers tightening in her hair. An attention getter which caused her no pain, yet warned she was pushing it.

  “Ah, maybe not a S.A.M. after all, but a brat. Even better. Their tears flow so much freer.” With a wink to Mara, the Baron slapped Sean on the shoulder as if they were old friends and charter members in the Dom brotherhood. “I am definitely going to have a front row seat for her punishment. I love to see a naughty sub get her comeuppance.”

  She didn’t much like the sound of that or the arrogant Baron either, and whispered, “Master.”

  “Silence, Mara. I think you’ve said enough for now.”

  “You probably need to reserve a station,” their host went on, more business-like. “It’s Friday which is one of our busiest nights. What’s your preference: chain station, spanking bench, bondage table, or the cross? Name your poison and Anita, my sub there, can schedule it for you.”

  “How about a spanking bench at ten o’clock?”

  “I’ll put you down, Master Sean,” the soft-spoken Anita informed him promptly. “Bench seven will be held for you at ten o’clock sharp. Are there any implements you’d like on hand?”

/>   “We have a shop inside if you didn’t bring your own,” Baron offered, “or we have sanitized implements for loan.”

  “I think I’ll check out the shop while we’re here. It seems I need to pick up something special for my chatty submissive.”

  “We have a wide selection of gags in the store that might be of use,” the tall owner suggested with a chuckle.

  “I’ll be sure to give them a look. She appears to have forgotten her manners and all the rules we went over not ten minutes ago.”

  “She’ll learn if she’s smart. If you’re lucky, she won’t.” He smiled as if pleased with his little joke.

  Wide-eyed and tongue-tied for once, Mara listened in stunned silence as they discussed her fate. These three seemed in cahoots to make her first night memorable. Turning to her Dom, she found him staring at her intently. Despite his stern words, a glimmer of amusement was shining in his blue eyes. She shook her head. Her nerves were on edge and the fact that she was standing in the lobby of a sex club seemed unreal. If not for her tenacious curiosity and Sean’s desire for her to give this a try, she would have bolted out the door by now.

  “She looks ready to make a break for it, Sean,” The Baron jokily warned. “Better get her inside before she changes her mind.”

  A tug on her leash, as Sean moved forward reminded her of the other thing that was keeping her well and truly caught in this kinky otherworld. Her fingers curled around his forearm as she moved to follow.

  At the closed doors, the owner stopped and from his great height addressed Mara directly for the first time. “Do you remember your safewords, girl?”

  “Yes, sir. Red for stop, yellow for slow down and green for full steam ahead.”

  He grinned broadly at Sean. “Don’t tame her all the way. The members are going to love her.”

  Mara’s eyes connected with Sean’s briefly, when she looked back, the owner was gone, vanished, or possibly, he’d passed through the closed doors like a ghost. Her hand tightened on Sean. “If anything inside is scarier than the Baron, putt-putt it is.”

  “Smoke and mirrors, baby, it’s all part of the game.” His low chuckle didn’t help, but his assurance did somewhat.

  Telling herself to expect the unexpected, she clung to Sean’s hand like a lifeline as they passed through the doors of The Gilded Cage.

  Inside, wasn’t quite like she’d read about online. (Yes, she’d done some research earlier while Sean was in the shower). The walls weren’t black and “dungeony” as was the norm, but a dark hunter green, trimmed in cream, much to her surprise. It was also well maintained, unlike the crumbling exterior, which was reassuring. Expecting to be fumbling around in the dark, she was pleased to find it well lit, not brilliantly bright but with numerous wall sconces giving off a warm glow. It was sufficient for viewing the many stations set up around the room and the carnal pursuits going at each one. There were dozens of couples and several trios, all engaged in kinky games while members, at least two dozen by her quick count, looked on as they played.

  Baron began his tour by pointing out the equipment he’d mentioned earlier, he then moved on to the unique, including a bondage frame and Catherine’s wheel. The frame was little more than a metal square, but the huge wooden wheel had a multitude of straps and looked straight out of the Spanish Inquisition. In addition to binding a sub for play or punishment, Baron pointed out that both devices, as well as the intricate rigging system overhead could be used for suspension or inversion. He indicated a male sub hanging upside down in the far corner, his Mistress taking great delight in flaying his bare ass and exposed genitals with a strap. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sean unsuccessfully hide a wince.

  Next came wooden stocks, a metal pillory and a whipping post. The post was centered in the middle of the room and currently in use by two men. A loud crack rent the air every time the top lashed the bottom with what Sean explained was a quirt. The three-foot long, braided whip had two thongs at the end called stingers, which were responsible for the loud noises coming from both the whip and the whippee. Mara eyed the bound man’s backside as he screamed with each crack of the lash, upon seeing only a light hue of pinkness with no visible welts or marks of any kind, she felt reassured that he wasn’t actually being tortured, and was more likely playing to the crowd. As she watched the odd-looking whip connect with the subs upside down cheeks once again, Mara worried that Sean knew more about all this than she thought.

  They stopped at something called a queening chair where a restrained man was lying on his back, his face directly beneath the cut out seat upon which his Mistress sat. By the sounds of her appreciative groans, he was adeptly servicing her from below. With her bare pussy hovering over his face, no daylight separated them and it was obvious they were both enjoying themselves immensely by their unabashed moans. They were so engrossed in each other they seemed unmindful of their audience.

  Toward the end of the tour, Mara discovered the inspiration for the name of the club. In the corner, beneath a spotlight, were three golden cages. The Baron explained they were for discipline and confinement of the most unruly of subs. One cage stood upright, tall enough for a man to stand easily, the other two were more like crates where the captive would have to either kneel or sit. They all had openings in the bars at various locations that would easily align with hips, bottoms and mouths. The purpose for which required no explanation.

  One of the short cages was occupied. Elevated several feet off the floor, the tearful kneeling girl inside was at the perfect height to look the man who stood in front of the cage directly in the eyes. They were talking quietly, and though Mara couldn’t hear what they said, the sub appeared to be listening intently, nodding and sniffling on occasion. As Mara looked on, the man reached inside the cage and rubbed his thumb over the sub’s wet cheek. She smiled softly as he gave a nod, then signaled the nearby attendant who engaged an electric pulley that slowly lowered the cage to the floor. When the man assisted her from her gilded cage, she immediately sank to her knees bowing her head in supplication. He squatted in front of her and lifted her head, holding her chin in his hand. She nodded in response to something he said and the next moment, he stood with her in his arms while kissing her soundly.

  To Mara, it was a sweet, intimate and an oddly romantic scene, considering their surroundings. It made her realize this wasn’t all about sex, but about the connection between Dom and sub that Sean had spoken of. At least she perceived it to be for this couple, as well as her and Sean.

  “You’ve noticed Master Frank and his lovely sub Allison.”

  “They appear to be very much in love.”

  “You’ve a good eye, Mara. Frank is enamored with his submissive wife as much as she is with her Master. That doesn’t let her off the hook when it’s punishment time, however.”

  “Why was she in the cage?”

  “A misunderstanding of some sort I imagine. He’s challenged to find effective punishments for her. Spanking is out as she enjoys it too much, so he has to be creative. Cages, rope bondage and other innovative approaches seem to work, leaving spanking for sex and play.”

  Sean added near her ear. “Everyone is different in the lifestyle, Mara.”

  “I’m beginning to see that, Master.”

  The rest of the tour didn’t take long since the play area was simply a huge room packed with equipment. The stations were cordoned off by ropes to maintain the intimate space of the scene, allowing spectators to enjoy the show, but at a distance that ensured safety and prevented distraction. The owner pointed out the dungeon monitors who wore bright orange triangles with DM in bold letters on their vests advising Sean and Mara to seek them out if the need arose.

  After the dungeon tour, The Baron took them through the crowded lounge. Full of members enjoying cocktails and dancing to music played by a DJ, on the surface it resembled any other nightclub, except for the topless state of several of the patrons.

  “This is a panty and boxer zone,” he advised. “Bare genita
ls are not allowed. Health codes you understand.”

  The last thing he showed them was the store, which had a wide variety of implements hanging from hooks on the walls, a few racks of fetish wear, and shelves lined with dildos, vibrators, gags and restraints. You name it; they had it. The Baron urged Sean to borrow whatever equipment he might need and then wraithlike, the owner simply disappeared once again. Sean laughed as Mara looked around for him dumbstruck. They perused the store together for a few minutes, before venturing out into the playroom to explore.

  Mara stayed glued to Sean’s side while they wandered the room observing many couples at play. They were watching a threesome carry out an intense scene, with two floggers working the sub in tandem, when a distinguished looking older man in a three-piece suit approached Sean.

  “Do you share?” he asked abruptly without a greeting or any other preliminaries, his British accent quite distinct. Mara wasn’t sure what he was referring to and finding his manner abrasive, took a step closer to Sean.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Do you share your submissive? She is quite beautiful and although she is more generously endowed than the littles I usually top, I would love to spank her until her bottom is bright red. I’d then like to follow up with the cane until she is crying prettily for her daddy to stop. If you’d like to attend, by all means—”

  “No,” Sean cut in. “She is mine—exclusively.”

  “A pity. She is the most interesting submissive to grace these walls in quite a while. Congratulations on that, sir.”

  When he was out of earshot, Sean murmured, “He is one of the A.P. Doms Baron spoke of, no doubt.”

  “What’s that? A.P., I mean.”

  “Age play. It’s a sort of roleplay with a power exchange dynamic like most Doms and subs, but in age play, the Dom is in more of a parental role. Some do it for play, others live it 24/7. He wanted to be your Daddy Dom, if only for the night, and planned to use strict discipline on you, his naughty little girl. It’s not as uncommon as you’d think.”