by Poppy Flynn
"Safe, sane and consensual," Charlotte repeated. "I remember Desi saying that to me, years ago, when she first started in this lifestyle."
"A lot of clubs use the phrase as their mission statement, but it's more than that. It's a principle which we value and uphold with the utmost integrity, the very core of the competent practice in which we pride ourselves."
She looked at him earnestly; everything he said was valid. This was something she could walk away from if it didn't work out and something that could be safely explored within this establishment. It put her mind at ease.
Micah sat back in his chair and studied her. "Why did you decide to seek membership here, Charlotte? It couldn't have been just from talking with Desi. There's a huge leap between discussing BDSM and trying it."
Charlotte pursed her lips and studied her fingers as she considered how to answer. "I hooked up with a guy who is pretty deep in the lifestyle," she finally settled on saying. There, that didn't sound too bad.
"Did the two of you scene together or visit clubs?" Micah pushed.
"No, nothing like that," she admitted. Jeez, she was such a neophyte! "Things were pretty tame, considering the stuff he was into."
"And what was he into? Was it something that appealed to you?"
Charlotte worried her lip. Did she want to talk about Jake like this? On the other hand, she wasn't naming names and he wasn't exactly local.
"His specific kink is the single tailed whip." Charlotte hoped she'd kept the tremor out of her voice. "So, like I said, pretty hard core."
Micah studied her and nodded. "I understand why you'd think that, but in reality, the touch of a whip can be as gentle as a kiss."
Charlotte's head came up in surprise and Micah laughed.
"Unless he's a complete sadist, of course."
"Umm, I don't think so," she hedged.
"Was it something you tried?"
"No," Charlotte replied, and even she could hear the slight edge to her voice. "He never gave me the option."
"And it annoyed you that he wanted to protect you, even though you're not familiar with the lifestyle?" Micah asked, his eyebrows raised.
"It annoyed me that he made that decision for me, without so much as discussing it with me," Charlotte clarified, threading her fingers together and squeezing in frustration.
"Ah! I see." Micah smiled again, and Charlotte felt some of the tension drain from her, knowing that he understood where she was coming from.
"So, you're interested in exploring things with this guy?"
Charlotte shook her head. "Oh, no!" she corrected his assumption. "That ship has sailed, and he isn't local, anyway."
"So?" Micah encouraged.
Charlotte faltered, her cheeks heating, but there was no judgement in Micah's eyes. Why would there be. This was all 'normal' to him. The knowledge made her feel better.
"The things we did…" For all her bravado, Charlotte still couldn't look him in the face, so she fixed her gaze on her hands again. "They turned me on in a way I didn't expect…" she mumbled. "And the sex was off the scale."
"And what sort of things did you do?" Charlotte could feel Micah's dark gaze boring into her.
Picking at her nails, she swallowed. "He bound my wrists and spanked me…" Charlotte murmured quietly. "He pulled my hair and made me beg. He bit me, hard, and…" She couldn't bring herself to talk about the way he'd twisted her nipples. Why did that seem so much more illicit than the rest of it? Her voice trailed off and she bit her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and keeping it there.
"How did you react to the pain?" Micah asked. Was it her imagination or did his voice seem deeper, huskier?
She finally, slowly, raised her eyes to his.
"It aroused me," she whispered.
Time seemed to stretch as she watched Micah and Micah watched her back. Charlotte waited for the shame and embarrassment to engulf her, but it never came. There truly was no judgement within these walls.
Then Micah cleared his throat and the spell, or whatever she was feeling, was broken. "I'm happy to approve your membership, Charlotte." He smiled. "Would you like to take a look around the club and see some of what we have to offer? I'll talk you through anything you don't understand or anything you see which interests you, and if you haven't run screaming for the door after the tour, we'll get your limit list filled out and finalise your paperwork."
Micah stood and flipped through a walnut filing cabinet in the corner of the room, removing several different papers and sheaving them together in a file folder that he tossed on the desk.
He grinned and winked at her and that mischievous glint was back in his eyes. The surfer dude stood before her once again and the serious, impassive, psychologist was nowhere in sight as he held out a hand to help her up and then kept hold of it as he led her through the door to what she could, later, only think of as some kind of 'wonderland'.
The first thing to hit Charlotte as they skirted the packed dance area was that she was overdressed…or underdressed. Either applied, to be honest. While the men in the undulating wave of sinuous bodies wore jeans, leathers and what almost seemed like a uniform of black silk shirts or chest hugging T-shirts, the women were an entirely different matter and what they did wear, there was very little of. Corsets seemed to be the favourite, teamed with miniscule shorts or non-existent skirts. Some wore even less!
In her white cotton summer dress trimmed with eyelet lace, Charlotte felt vastly out of place, and even her colour choice seemed to rail against convention in this place where everything seemed to be dark or metallic with the odd pop of a bright colour—bright blue or, more often, red. She swore she could feel dozens of pairs of eyes following her around as she stood out like some kind of a beacon in the dark…or maybe a sacrificial virgin being led to…who knew what!
"The nightclub area and the bar are open to non-members." Micah lifted a hand and gestured around him at the spartan, industrial styled area. "Though at a premium, of course, considering the type of entertainment that is provided."
That's when Charlotte noticed the suspended platforms that displayed all kinds of erotic acts, from the sensuousness of professional pole dancing to much more hard core BDSM scenes featuring Doms and subs of both sexes in a feast of visual indulgence which sent the already steaming heat of the club into the stratosphere.
Micah pulled her towards an almost hidden door in a shadowy corner on the other side of the room marked private. It led down a short nondescript hallway to another set of doors with keypad security. Through the doors was a metal staircase.
"This part of the club is open to members and carefully vetted guests only," he told her. "It used to be part of the rest of the club but that made it difficult to regulate effectively, so the new owners have separated it. This is where most of the changes have taken place."
They walked past a row of rooms with huge viewing windows and even areas inside the rooms where people could watch the unfolding scenes.
Many of the rooms were themed. A doctor's office, featuring a recliner complete with stirrups. What looked like a teacher's or principal's office with a row of canes displayed behind a huge desk where, right now, a sub in a pleated, checked skirt that had been bunched up to her waist was bent over having her backside spanked with a ruler by a Dom dressed only in an old-fashioned academic robe which gaped open at the front to reveal his nakedness and a rock-hard dick.
Charlotte noticed several people, both men and women, wearing florescent armbands which Micah explained denoted their role as a 'Dungeon Monitor' and whose responsibility it was to ensure the smooth running and safe supervision of the area.
A French boudoir, a jail cell, a medieval turret room, a wet room, a throne room, a board room, a suspension room. Every conceivable kind of fantasy could be played out within these walls.
Micah continued to the end of the double wide walkway to a huge open space at the end. "This is the dungeon." He smiled. "Or, more correctly, the general play area, since it's
upstairs." He laughed. "But we call it the dungeon, regardless."
The lighting in the room was muted. There were several daises, which were spotlighted, and a proper stage area at the far end. The plain painted walls featured all kinds of implements, from floggers and crops to shackles and spreader bars. There were eyebolts and chains embedded in the plaster and stations throughout the generous space featuring spanking benches and St. Andrew's crosses, sex swings, stocks and other equipment Charlotte couldn't begin to describe, made up of bars and frames that reminded her of scaffolding. It was mind boggling!
As Micah drew her into the room, her attention was caught by a woman who stood, completely naked, chained to some kind of pole, her arms stretched above her head and legs forced apart by the spreader bar cuffed to her ankles. Across her back and buttocks, a criss-cross pattern of lines showed pink against the rest of her skin, marks from the whip wielded by a Dom dressed in a pair of soft faded jeans and biker boots, his chest bare and glistening with sweat. The wheals were precise in their number and their distance apart. There was no bloodied or broken the skin and the sub receiving the thrashing was unmistakeably aroused. As she watched, the Dom crossed to the sub and ran his big hands surely across her skin. The woman's breath hitched, and she mewled in delight as his touch ignited the welts once again. A moment later, Charlotte's eyes widened as the man unlaced his leathers and thrust his hard cock into the sub's dripping pussy. She seemed to detonate on impact and her orgasm went on and on. Charlotte couldn't look away, even though she felt like a voyeur. But then, that was accepted here; it was part and parcel of this alternative lifestyle, and Charlotte was undoubtedly turned on, too.
As the scene wound down, she became aware of a steady heat behind her and a pair of hands weighing heavily on her shoulders. Arousal shivered through her and she had to curb the overwhelming urge to lean back into Micah's strong body. But, as if he could read her mind, Micah's right arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. His other hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her head to the side and she felt his hot breath on her ear as he murmured, "I don't need to ask if that excited you, Charlotte. I can smell your arousal and read it in your body language."
Charlotte shuddered and melted against him, unable to keep the low moan from slipping out.
Who was this wanton woman she had turned into? She felt like she didn't know herself. But still, she felt a desperate need to discover this hidden side.
"You clearly have a fascination with the whip. Is it something you want to explore for yourself?"
Charlotte let her head fall back against Micah's shoulder, then slowly turned her head to meet his knowing scrutiny. "Yes!" she breathed, raggedly.
Micah's hot gaze held her captive for several beats then, just as suddenly, he broke the connection and started pulling her back the way they came.
"Then let's get all the paperwork finished," he stated briskly and led her to his office once more.
Charlotte looked down at the pile of forms she had finally read through, filled in, signed and completed, and blew out a breath. There had been confidentiality agreements and submissive training guidelines, club regulations and limit lists. There was so much information and so many things she didn't really understand. Thankfully, Micah had taken her through it all step by step, even the limit list, which had caused her more than a little embarrassment. Discussing the use of various sex toys and equipment and whether or not she was prepared to use them—or rather have a Dom use them on her—with a relative stranger, who also had to explain the function of various items, was really rather mind blowing. Never mind having to justify her unwillingness to engage in actual penetrative sex, since she'd discovered there was an option.
Thankfully, Micah had taken it all in his stride and acted like the consummate professional, and that had eased Charlotte's discomfort.
Now they were down to the nitty gritty of allocating a Training Master and Charlotte couldn't help the nerves that churned in her belly. Could she really go through with this? Make herself vulnerable to a complete stranger? And if there was no sex involved, what on earth would be in it for them?
Micah was frowning over a list of names and tapping his forefinger against his pursed lips, although the rest of his posture was relaxed as he reclined in his office chair with one ankle casually resting on his knee. He was a laid-back kind of guy and she liked that about him. Charlotte wasn't sure she'd be able to engage with one of those darkly intense Doms like Desi's husband, Joel. She needed someone with a lighter disposition. Would Micah have picked that up about her? Did she get any kind of choice?
Micah broke into those troubling thoughts. "Are you quite positive about wanting to work with the whip?" he asked.
Charlotte frowned. "Yes, is that a problem?"
Micah shook his head. "No, it just limits the training choices. Using the whip is a precise skill and the majority of Doms who master that skill are sadists, but you, Charlotte, are no masochist, so the fit would not be good. The Dom who immediately comes to mind is one of the new owners, but he won't be available enough to do justice to your training, which only leaves one other solution."
"What's that?" Charlotte asked tentatively, feeling more and more apprehensive.
Micah looked her straight in the eye. "That I train you myself."
Charlotte exhaled with relief. The thought that she'd be paired with some severe, relentless Dom who might want more than she could give had left her nerves tattered.
"How would you feel about that?" Micah asked.
"Fine!" Charlotte gasped. "More than fine. Absolutely great. Perfect, in fact. I know that would work." She caught herself babbling and snapped her mouth closed.
Micah was still regarding her inscrutably and the nerves surfaced again.
"Umm, well, that is…is that okay with you? I mean…if you don't want to…umm." Charlotte fluttered her hands and trailed off, her face heating. She closed her eyes and hung her head in mortification. Oh, goddesses! He probably thought she was coming on to him with her overeager response. And how pathetic was that when there was no way this worldly, experienced man was ever going to be interested in a blushing novice like her who couldn't bring herself to have casual sex. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. It was going to be like Jake all over again. What on earth had possessed her to ever think she could do this?
Charlotte gulped and scrambled to her feet, avoiding Micah's gaze as she grabbed for her bag. She didn't want to see the pity or the amusement that was bound to be in his eyes.
"Actually, you know what, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," she stammered, blindly groping for the door. "I'll just get out of your hair and let you get on. I know you must be busy."
"Charlotte, stop!" The command in Micah's deep voice brought her up short and she stilled with her hand on the door knob.
A second later, he was behind her, the heat of his chest searing her back and his muscled arm reaching across her shoulder as his palm rested on the door, right next to her head, blocking her retreat.
"You want to tell me what the heck all that was about?" Micah demanded, his breath warm on the back of her neck.
"You don't have time for this," Charlotte said tightly. "It's okay, I understand. You're the manager and the psychologist. You have more important things to do than babysit a complete beginner who won't provide much in the way of gratification."
She caught her breath as she heard Micah growl out loud. "You're all signed up and I've a good mind to bend you over my knee and spank you for putting yourself down." He scowled, his features hardening and highlighting the Alpha male that lay behind the genial façade. "You'll learn that most Doms have very little tolerance for subs who belittle themselves like that."
Charlotte's eyes widened to the size of saucers at his words and images swirled in her mind that weren't altogether unwelcome, making her insides flutter uncontrollably.
Micah spun her around and pressed her back against the door, big hands pressing ag
ainst her shoulders. He pinned her with a glare. "You're right, I am the manager, I am the psychologist, and I am busy. I don't usually train subs and I had to think a moment about the logistics. But make no mistake, Charlotte, if I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have offered. Understand?"
Charlotte nodded mutely, her eyes glued to his face.
"Now, I suggest you take the time to read through all the relevant paperwork and familiarise yourself with the requirements of the training program before presenting yourself to me at 8:30 sharp next Wednesday evening. Okay?"
"Okay," Charlotte whispered.
Micah stepped away and grabbed the file from his desk, and Charlotte took it with trembling fingers.
"You may also want to consider whether or not you want to use a pseudonym. Many of our patrons prefer anonymity, for obvious reasons."
With that, he hauled her away from the door so he could open it, pressed a brief but firm kiss on her mouth, then spun her around and propelled her through the doorway with a hard swat to her backside.
And Charlotte left Club Risqué in a daze.
Chapter 5
Charlotte scrutinised herself critically in the full-length mirror. It was 7:30 pm, and she had maybe ten minutes to change her mind and find another outfit before she needed to leave and make the drive to her very first training session. She didn't want to be late. That would be even worse than wearing the wrong outfit, if there was such a thing as a wrong outfit. Charlotte had already picked up on the distinct lack of judgement at the club. It had been very obvious and that was like a balm on her fractured soul after so many years living in a situation where judgement was constant and had harsh consequences. Club Risqué exuded a remarkable 'live and let live' aura.
Still, she wanted to make a good first impression. That was just human nature.
Casting a last glance at the tiny leather skirt and stiletto heels teamed with a matching leather bustier that she thought did a decent job of breaking up the long, skinny look she always hated, Charlotte decided she was good to go. She had slicked her hair into a high ponytail and the bustier almost made it look like she had cleavage. Her legs left a bit to be desired, the short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual, but she supposed she couldn't have everything. All in all, she felt pretty damn good, excited to start this new phase of her life.
