by Unknown
“C’mon, Elizabeth, give us the dirty details.” Both she and David are doing their best to control their giggling, but I’m not buying it.
I wouldn’t waste the energy trying to hide my true feelings. “Don’t go through my things!” I snap at them.
“It fell out of your purse, Elizabeth. Honest.”
Doubtful, but honestly I didn’t care what these two immature idiots thought. I snatched the card from Melanie’s hand. “Don’t you two have somewhere to be?”
I hated to be a bitch, and most of the time I just didn’t have the courage to be so, but I feel like I have one nerve left and these two are leaning all over it. I stared them both down, daring them to say another word.
Sliding her own purse noisily across the counter she let out an audible ‘hmpf,’ but nothing more. David, on the other hand, was already tiptoeing in full retreat towards the front door, obviously wanting none of my ire on a Friday morning.
Once the door closed I picked up the card and held it to my nose. I could smell his cologne, immediately flooding my senses as every hair on my neck seemed to stand up straight. The memory of last night’s encounter flashed a sense of awareness, and my nipples hardened to the point of aching.
Flipping the card over I saw his note for the first time.
If you’re really interested, have dinner with me. 1321 Calendar Road. Park and meet me at the front door at 7:30 P.M. - Graham
*-*-*-*-*
I’d passed this place a million times, and not once did I realize it was a club. In fact, the empty parking lot in front of the old wooden building had every appearance of abandonment, at least during the day. But tonight, well that was a different story. Embarrassment is the best way to describe the feeling I have as I pull my broken down little Toyota into the parking lot amongst all the expensive cars there. I found a spot, about three spaces down from the good doctor’s and quickly exited my car trying to put as much distance between me and my ride. Graham extended his arm like a gentleman, and escorted me proudly inside.
The owners of the exclusive club have obviously spared no expense, and the elegant room looks a lot like a five star restaurant. I fully expected to see bodies everywhere, people in various stages of dress, but I never thought I’d feel woefully underdressed. The soft jazz music is a far cry from the local bar, and Graham orders a simple appetizer with champagne as he guides me to an empty table.
“So Elizabeth, what do you think?” he asked proudly.
“Well… it’s not exactly what I expected.”
“How so?”
“You sure this is a BDSM club?” I know I should appreciate the surroundings, but I’m sure my skepticism is showing through.
With a confident grin he leans back into his chair. “We like to keep our slaves bound and gagged in the back. After all, appearances must be maintained.”
“Bound and gagged?”
“For some. Really kind of depends on your preference.” I feel like he’s mocking me as his head shakes slightly. “But the beatings are fairly regular.” Again he chuckles, and I can’t help but join in his laughter.
His demeanor takes on a more serious look as he sits up straight and lifts his glass of champagne. “Why are you so interested in this lifestyle?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I guess I’m just looking for something, you know, different.”
“And you thought you’d find your answers at the meet and greet?”
Sampling the champagne I feel myself relaxing at the bubbles tickle my nose. “I don’t know, maybe. But I have to say they seem rather…”
“Amatuerish?”
“Right. But who am I to say? I mean they kept talking about how it wasn’t about sexual gratification, but let’s face it, isn’t that what it should be about?”
“I think the group spends a lot of time about the pure mechanics of it, not the emotions. For some of those people, I think they appreciate and celebrate the pain more than the pleasure.”
“And this place is different?”
“Our approach is different.”
He finishes his glass of champagne, and before he can return it to the table a young woman refills it without being asked. I appreciate the attentive staff, and it doesn’t escape me the provocative but simple dress she’s wearing: Tight, low cut, and plain. Graham looks as if he’s sitting on a big surprise, and my inquisitive nature can’t help but want to know more.
“How exactly is it different?”
With a deep breath his eyes cut away from me, and turn towards our waitress. “Let’s just say this is more about having your needs met. It’s not as much about power and control as it is about exploring and fulfilling your desires.”
“My desires? I’m not even sure what my desires are?”
“Well, it’s a journey of sorts. Some people know exactly what they want. Others, well let’s just say they have to be exposed to many things before they get it.”
“What sort of things?”
His thick fingers twist the bottom of the fluted glass in front of me. “Some people want to serve, some want to be used, some want to be controlled. For some it’s completely about giving up responsibility for their pleasure.”
“Interesting concept, but I’m not sure I want to be used.”
“Careful, Elizabeth, the one thing that crazy group at the meet and greet really understand is that you shouldn’t judge. Patience and understanding are just a part of acceptance.”
“And for you?”
“Well, let’s just say I enjoy dominating.”
“So you’re a dom? You spank and tie up your victims, force them to…”
“Hold on!” He says sharply, “Not so fast. I like to think my approach is much different than that.”
“How so?”
He drains his glass once again, and just like before the young lady steps in and fills his glass. With a heavy sigh he stares directly into my eyes. I feel I’m open, vulnerable, and my anxiety is difficult to hide. Yet somewhere in his sparking eyes I feel comfort. His tone is soothing, but his question is very direct. “Have you ever been bound?”
I laughed audibly in an effort to mask my inexperience. “No.”
“Spanked?”
“No.”
“Forced to bare your true desires?”
“True desires?” I chuckled again.
“Yes. What you really fantasize about.”
“I don’t really fantasize?”
“You don’t? Hmm, odd.”
“You don’t believe me?” I asked, showing the most confident smile I can muster.
“No I don’t. In fact, I believe everyone fantasizes, especially when they masturbate.”
I feel my face flush just hearing the word, and as if my only friend at the table is my glass of champagne I swallow the last drops, holding the glass to my lips for as long as I can. As I place my glass on the table in front of me the young woman leans over and refills. Her ample cleavage is now squarely in my field of view, and I admit openly I stared at them. Her nipples were straining against the thin fabric, and as I licked my lips I feel the heat rising up my neck.
“Don’t you?”
“What? Fantasize?”
His eyes are locked on mine, and as much as I want to turn away I just can’t. I can’t avoid it. Inside I want to feel strong, confident, but even as the words escape my lips they seem shaky at best. “Sometimes.” All of a sudden a rush of joy swells up through my chest, and I’m proud that I said it.
“So what is it?” he asked coolly.
“What?”
“Your fantasy?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see,” he says as he leans back into his chair. I feel I’ve disappointed him, and I don’t even know why that would matter anyway.
Perhaps I wanted to feel the experienced hand of guidance. Perhaps I really just don’t know. I sense he feels bringing me here was a mistake, and the thought of sexual journey flashes through my head. I perk up, trying once again to gain his
attention. “Why did you approach me?”
“Beg your pardon?” he asked with a quizzical look on his face.
“Why’d you stop me in bar? What is it that you want me to see?”
“I wanted you to know that there is a real choice in this lifestyle, and we’re all not a bunch of perverts who can’t seem to separate the real world from fantasy.”
“And that’s what they do at the meet and greet?”
He shakes his head no, but I sense he does believe it. “It’s just that the majority of those people dive into the lifestyle twenty-four/seven, and quite frankly that’s not reality. I believe for most of them it’s about shock and awe, and diving into something that’s not a temporary escape, but a true path of avoidance.”
His words seem very clinical, and I suppose from a doctor I should expect that, but he is beginning to make a lot of sense. I also got the feeling that some of the people at the meet and greet were not completely in touch with reality. “And your approach is different… how?”
As he places both hands on the table I feel he’s about to let me in on the ‘big secret’ of this place, and I’m listening intently. “This is a place where people experience their fantasies, and for some it’s a liberating experience. For a lot of people they simply sit on the sidelines and enjoy the show, but for some it’s about the power of release.”
“Release?”
“Letting go. Trusting in someone else. Being able to set aside the demands of daily responsibilities and immerse themselves into a few hours of pleasure.”
“Sounds wonderful, but how does being tied and spanked accomplish that?”
“You’ll have to experience it before you can determine that for yourself.” He stood abruptly, extending his hand out to me. “Let me show you.” I’m not sure where this is heading, but without much thought I took his hand, and he once again escorted me to the rear of the building.
Approaching the door I could hear the faint sounds of cheering and laughter. Graham pulled me aside and wrapped his hand around my waist. “Before we go in, I simply ask that you do one thing. Don’t judge.” With that said he opened the door.
The large back room was decorated like some kind of English manor, and fine furniture was meticulously placed around the room creating several different spaces for people to gather and chat. Graham seems to be in his element, and several couples greeted us as he paraded me around the room, all dressed to the nines.
“Elizabeth, this is Don and his lovely wife Amanda.”
Don nodded his head as his wife extended her hand, covered in diamonds, to greet me. “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” Before I could even respond a waitress approached us carrying a tray with more champagne. She was completely nude, except for a thick leather choker with two tiny chains that connected the metal ring under her chin to each nipple. It looked somewhat painful, but from the permanent smile plastered upon her face I gathered she rather enjoyed it. I was confounded that the couple in front of me didn’t even seem to notice her presence past the point of supplying fresh drinks. “First time?”
I nodded, still unable to speak as I tore my eyes away from the waitress back to Amanda.
Amanda’s hand drifted to my elbow, and a gentle but reassuring squeeze seems to calm me immediately. She leans over into me and whispers. “You’re in for a treat tonight. I hope you enjoy yourself.”
I look around the room and see exactly what I thought I’d see. Couples and groups engaged in various forms of sex and submission. To the right I saw a woman on her hands and knees, with a gorgeous young man standing over her with a whip. Her ass was already bright red, yet the sounds of sweet of satisfaction flowed from her lips as he continued to strike her. On the couch just behind Amanda was a woman with her wrists and ankles bound and high in the air while another woman greedily licked between her legs. Behind her was a man buried deep within her. All the while Amanda, Don and Graham acted as if it wasn’t taking place.
I have that deer in the headlights look plastered upon my face, and I think the three of them took a tremendous amount of pride in my naivety.
“See something you like?” Graham asked.
Wow. Talk about information overload. I squeezed his arm tightly, and stared into his eyes searching for some kind of handle to grab hold of. “I…”
“It’s a little overwhelming… right?” He turned to Don and Amanda, “Excuse us, please.”
I followed him blindly, still scanning the room with amazement as I watched full blown acts of sex playing out right in front of me as he guided me to a secluded corner of the room. There he helped me down onto a couch for me to gather my bearings. He took my drink and placed it on the coffee table with his. “You okay?”
“Yeah… just a lot to process. I can’t believe all these people.”
“Remember, don’t judge. For most it’s about a journey of sexual exploration.”
I laughed, shaking my head from side to side. I could never do all that in front of other people. I feel like they’re all staring at me.”
“Tell you what. Why don’t we start with something simple.”
“I…”
“Come on. You wanted to know. Trust me. Just say the word ‘stop,’ and that will be the end of it
Graham waved his hand at one of the waitresses. She, like all the rest, was pretty much nude for the entire world to see. This young red head, however, was wearing an intricately woven rope body harness, and to be perfectly honest the knots were amazing. “Sir?”
“Bring me one blindfold.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Wait a minute!” I exclaimed.
“Trust me, Elizabeth. Just try this. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
The waitress promptly returned and handed the blindfold to him, and stood there staring at me with the slightest grin on her face. “Will that be all, Master?”
“For now. Thank you.” He turned to me. “Lean forward.”
I hesitated, not seeing any possible way this was going to end well. With strong hands he pulled the leather blindfold over my eyes, and tightly cinched the strap behind my head. His hands were steady and measured, and I gripped his wrists as he situated the mask.
“Now Elizabeth, the purpose of this blindfold is simple. I am taking away one of your senses, and now you must rely on the four remaining to enjoy this little experiment.”
I admit that not having to look at people staring at me did give me a sense of privacy, and I can feel my body tingle all over with anticipation. Will he touch me? Kiss me? I can smell his cologne now, and in the background the dull murmur of voices seems somewhat louder, but as if I wasn’t even in the room.
The pads of his fingertips feel like fire against my skin, and although the blindfold is tight I can see straight down at the tops of my breasts as his hand slowly slides between them. They’re long, manicured, and thick, and the wisps of jet black hair on the back of his hand perfectly accent the golden bronze skin. The image is burning through my mind, and the heat of his palm warms my right breast as he squeezes. His other hand is deeply buried far below, inside me and I imagine what it must look like there. Trust, he said, over and over, and I’m concentrating on that word alone as he gently releases me. I feel the five o’clock shadow of his chin scrape lightly against the nape of my neck, and know he’s leaving a mark. It’s not painful, but somewhat complimentary to the blaze burning within me. I hadn’t expected this night to go this far but his fingers inside me, his body pressing me hard against the wall and the scent of his skin against mine had turned me into a wanton slut. I screamed as a year’s worth of pent up frustrations released onto his fingers, specks of light floated across my closed lids and my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Oh God,” I moaned.
“Oh God is right!” he whispered as he trailed his kisses over my chin. Instinctively I open my lips, anticipating his wonderful lips on mine. I push my tongue to the edge as his nose barely touches mine. Into my open mouth he whispers, “You’re absolutely
beautiful.” I felt his fingers beginning their withdrawal and I clamped down on them in a feeble effort to keep him in place. He chuckled, “Now, now, Elizabeth, there’ll be plenty of time for more.”
*-*-*-*-*
I felt a tremendous buzz of euphoria, almost as if I were walking on pillows as he led me out the club and to my car. Like a true gentleman he opened the door and helped me in, and as I gathered my wits I quickly rolled the window down. “Wait! Is that all?”
“Is what all, my dear?”
My frustration was easy to see, and I wanted – no needed – more. “I thought…”
“I promised to show you, and you want more?”
Sheepishly, but definitely, I wanted more. “Yes. I want more.”
“Fine.” Graham pulled another blue card from his pocket and scribbled on the back. Be there, 9:00 P.M. sharp.”
Three
I knocked tentatively on his door the following night, still unsure of what he wanted from me. I’d spent more time preparing for this ‘date’ than I had my last job interview, but I was a bit surprised that he hadn’t instructed me on what to wear. ‘A taste.’ That’s what he told me this night would be. ‘A taste of possibilities.’
His house was a stately affair, too large for one man and manicured to sterility by some OCD gardener who clearly had strict instructions. Glancing around his doorway I felt myself become smaller and smaller, as if I was Alice heading into a dark, unknown world. Shrinking with doubt and preparing to bolt back to my Toyota, I pushed the button again and heard the chimes barreling off the inside walls behind the iron and glass door.
There was no warmth here, nothing that would indicate softness. I cuffed my hands around my face and peered through the glass. I could see him sitting in an overstuffed chair at the far end of the towering foyer. Did he hear the door chimes? Maybe he’s changed his mind? I should just go. Why is he sitting there ignoring me? He told me to be here, I’m on time right? I checked my phone; it was three minutes till nine, so I was actually a bit early. Early. Again I glanced around me, not a single pine needle was out of place in the landscaping, not a wilted leaf anywhere to be seen. This was a man of clarity. If he told me to be here at nine then that is what he expected, not a minute earlier or later. I got it now.
