The trapdoor creaked open with the heavy resistance you would expect of a door long hidden. Jenna peered down into the dark room below. The smell of dust and stale air rose up to meet her, laced with something a little sweeter. The inky blackness of the room covered the bottom of the step ladder. It looked very much like a secret room someone forgot about.
This was her first time in this building, and it was only by chance that her foot tripped on the edge of the carpet to reveal this door. The keys from the realtor jingled in her pocket as she had explored what could be her new bar. Now, she wondered if she had found something more.
Lifting her phone like a torch she descended into the darkness, holding tightly to the rungs of the ladder so she didn’t fall into the unknown below. The descent was shorter than she thought as her sneakers touched the dirt floor waiting at the bottom. She swept the beam of light around the room.
The room was longer than she imagined, stretching back beyond the meager light of her phone’s flashlight. Barrels lined the walls stacked two high on either side. She reached out and ran her hands over the old writing, labeling each cask as some type of alcohol, mostly wines, and a few whiskeys. As she made her way down the row she realized why this room existed. The building she was in must have served as some type of speakeasy in the 20s.
Walking down the aisle she felt like she was going back in time. As she reached the end of the chamber the walls felt closer and she was a little dizzy. She couldn’t see the ladder anymore. In front of her were a table and chair. She sat down for a minute to clear her head, resting her phone on the edge with the light facing upward.
On the heavy looking table in front of her was an old fashioned oil lamp and an ancient book encased in dark leather. An old fashioned feather quill and ink pot were dried up, resting to the side. Maybe this room was older than she thought, there were certainly pens in the 1920s.
Gently lifting the cover of the book she felt the pages crinkle as they parted. The scent of old books filled the air in front of her face as she ran her fingers over the first few pages. Neatly written rows of numbers flowed over the unlined pages. Dates, times, and what appeared to be counts of the goods that surrounded her. A little further on were what appeared to be recipes. A stained red ribbon stuck out halfway through. Grasping it, she gently turned to the marked page.
The numbers were gone and there were images of ropes. Illustrations of different types of ropes and knots. Each one more intricate than the last. Like a sailor had started to record all the different tying methods. Or a very overzealous ancient Boy Scout.
Curious, she turned the pages and the knots gave way to new illustrations of people. They weren’t very detailed but they seemed to depict people tied up with the various types of knots. She leaned closer, fascinated by this bizarre collection of images that slowly progressed into a kama sutra of bondage. Her face burned from embarrassment but she couldn’t look away. Her head started to swim again as the dizziness got worse. What kind of place was this?
Suddenly her phone’s light went out and the room was thrown into darkness. It must’ve timed out, she thought to herself as she groped for it in the dark. Finding it, she pressed the button and tapped the screen, but the light stayed out. The phone was dead.
Her breath quickened as she tried not to panic. It was very straightforward. Just walk up the row and back to the ladder. The trapdoor was still open so she would see it as soon as she got closer. Her head suddenly felt like it was splitting open from a sudden headache and she briefly rested it on the table.
Suddenly, the headache cleared and she felt completely normal. The air seemed lighter and less stale. Standing up, she used her hands to find a wall of barrels and started to make her way back in the direction of the exit. Abruptly she stopped. There was a light making its way toward her, flickering in the complete darkness. Her heart was in her throat as it moved closer. There was nowhere to hide in this room so whoever it was would surely find her. She hoped it was the realtor, coming by to check on her.
As the light approached it became clear that it was not the young realtor she had met the previous day. It was a tall man, maybe 6’4, holding an oil lamp in his left hand. The light flickered off his shockingly handsome face and she could see his dark hair and dark beard clearly.
“Ah, Elizabeth. This is where you been hiding. Overeager for our next lesson, I take it.” His voice was deep and rich as it slid over her in the darkness. She didn’t know who Elizabeth was, but at that moment she wanted to be her.
“I… I don’t know….” she started to say, but he quickly moved up close to her and put a rough hand over her mouth. The heat of his body was intense and he smelled like spices and water. She looked into his hazel eyes and completely forgot what she meant to say.
“You know better. Don’t make me gag you,” he said and let his hand fall. He turned away to put the lamp on the table and go to one of the barrels in the corner.
Obviously, she wasn’t supposed to speak to this stranger. But by now she was very confused and also unbelievably intrigued. Something seemed different about the room, now that she had some light back. The barrels didn’t seem as old, and the dust wasn’t as heavy. They were also standing on a large oriental rug that covered the floor under the table and extended out several feet.
Watching him carefully, he took several lengths of rope and other items she couldn’t quite see out of the barrel and laid them on the chair. Then in one motion he reached up and removed his billowing white shirt.
His back was strong and tanned but crisscrossed in scars and markings. She watched as the muscles strained and his rough hands worked the ropes he had taken from the barrel. Turning back to her, she enjoyed the strong curve of his biceps and the lean hardness of his upper body.
His face looked disappointed. His hazel eyes frowning at her, “Ah Elizabeth, why do you make me wait.”
She was so intoxicated by the sight of him she barely moved as he came and lifted her t-shirt over her head. When the air hit her bare skin she seemed to come to her senses a little bit.
“What is going on he-“ But before she could get the rest of it out, he had inserted a red piece of silk in her mouth and fastened it behind her head.
“You seemed like you might be in a chatty mood. The only input I want from you is a nod, a shake, or any noises you can’t control understand?”
She nodded slowly. Whatever was happening she was confused, excited, and so undeniably turned on by this stranger. He didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt her or Elizabeth, whoever she was. If anything this seemed like some kind of game they play. Maybe he was the writer of the book. The thought gave her another wave of desire and excitement.
She shivered as he ran his hands down her bare back and unhooked her bra. His hands lingered over her skin and she leaned her upper body back against his warm chest.
“I will never understand women’s fashion,” he said, almost to himself before biting her hard on the shoulder. She jumped, and let out a small moan.
He chuckled darkly to himself and began to pull off her pants sliding them down over her hips and thighs, but leaving her panties in place. He moved around to the front of her and ran a hand over breasts.