She hadn't even known what to wear. This was so far out of her realm of experience. All the reading in the world hadn't helped to prepare her for this, and it wasn't exactly a conversation for her work colleague group chat. Maybe some people could discuss this kind of thing with their partner or spouse, but the less said about that in her case, the better.
In the end, she'd gone with black. Knee-high suede boots, hold-up lace-topped stockings, French-cut panties, and a boned corset that hugged her curves and allowed her full breasts to spill out over the top. She'd covered it all with a sheer black thigh-length shirt, which was the only thing that had given her the confidence to get from the front door to the car, and then out of the car again, through the private underground carpark, and into the club.
Perched on a bar-stool, sipping lemonade, Lisa slowly began to take in the scene around her. It almost looked like any other bar-come-nightclub, until one noticed the details. The outfits were more...niche. More leather, more lace, more latex. More flesh revealed. She didn't want to stare, or catch anyone's eye, but it seemed as though lots of ladies had gone for a similar boudoir lingerie look to hers, so that made her smile inwardly.
The bar and seating area was airy, with leather sofas and wooden floors, exposed brick walls, and a high ceiling. A feeling of privacy was provided by screens around some banquettes, and intimate lighting. The sounds of chat and laughter and glasses clinking gave the surface illusion of a regular bar.
The couples and small groups in the various seating areas were mainly chatting, but some people were sitting on the floor instead of the sofas, others perched on the laps of their partners. Lisa had never really considered herself a voyeur, but as she watched the interplay between couples, she could feel her arousal growing.
One young woman, wearing nothing but stockings and heels, had her back to her Dom's bare chest, and her legs held open by his. He was making conversation with another Dom, while his hand casually moved between her legs. Every so often, she tried to shift away, but he just repositioned her, and kept teasing and talking. As her movements grew more frantic, he put his hand under her chin and turned her towards him, whispering to her until she calmed down, and he could resume the erotic torment.
Another woman was knelt at the feet of her Master, slowly taking his cock into her mouth, and sliding her lips up and down it. Her hands were clasped behind her; his fingers tangled in her hair guided the movement of her mouth over his hard shaft. He was watching her pleasure him, solely focused on her. Lisa wondered how it felt, to be worshipping a man like that.
And this was just the bar area. She knew from the information on the website that there was another main playroom, and then several smaller rooms for more private experiences. She shifted a little on the stool, trying to alleviate some of the building tension, and twisted her wedding ring nervously.
She'd nearly not worn it, wondering whether it was best to completely deny her marital state for the evening. When her husband found out what she was doing tonight, she knew it would be the make or break of their marriage. But he'd been so distant recently, she felt she needed to explore some fantasies, to open her mind a little beyond the banal day-to-day of married life, to find her spark.
She'd booked the "Initiation Experience," picked a Dom from the profiles on the website, and filled in the forms, ranking her desires and fantasies and preferences from "no way" to "eager to experience." There were lots of "maybes." She'd been surprised to find out how open-minded she was, as someone who'd been in a vanilla marriage for so long. But recent events had shown her that maybe you didn't know anyone as well as you thought...
Lisa shook her head, trying to clear it. She couldn't think about that now. Tonight was about her, and she'd face the consequences. At least she'd know what she was missing, and whether it was something that could make a difference.
She'd purposely arrived earlier than the time booked, wanting to give herself time to look around and acclimatise to this new world she'd decided to explore. So, gathering her shirt around her, and her nerves, she slid off the bar-stool, and tried to look quietly confident that she knew what she was doing.
The only way out of the bar, other than the way Lisa had entered, was a wide archway at the far end. She walked though the seating area, conscious that there were eyes on her, but not meeting anyone's gaze.
Through the archway was a passage, with doors on either side, and a set of wooden double-doors at the end. The lighting here was provided by wall-sconces, and the panelled walls featured mirrors and various erotic artwork. Lisa paused uncertainly. The doors at the sides looked more private, and the ones at the end just looked intimidating.
Luckily, at that moment, one of the double doors was pushed open from the inside, and a man appeared. A shiver ran down Lisa's spine at the sight of him. Tall, with short, dark hair, he was bare-chested with a defined torso, wearing only a pair of dark jeans. He was just as he'd appeared on the Meet the Masters page, when she'd booked. Chiselled jaw-line, designer stubble, the lot. He looked more than a little surprised to see her, the expression evident in his blue eyes and the set of that jaw. Maybe she was in the wrong place; maybe her outfit wasn't as well-considered as she'd hoped.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, broad shoulders filling the doorway.
"I booked the Initiation Experience," she replied, trying to sound confident. "You're Master Max, right? I've actually booked it with you."
"Elise?"
"Yes." She'd decided a pseudonym was wise for her first time.
"Right." He still looked a little non-plussed, but made a visible effort to pull himself together. "Come on in then, I'll show you around. Have you had a drink?"
"Only lemonade."
He nodded approvingly. "Good girl."
The words sent a frisson through her, and he studied her more closely, obviously gauging her reaction. As he ushered her through the door into the main room, her breath quickened and she felt herself blushing. Knowing he was watching her, she became more self-conscious. Her eyes flickered around the large area, taking in the wooden floors, intricate ceiling, furnishings and equipment, before she could even begin to acknowledge the people.
This was straight out of the BDSM novels she had secretly been reading on Kindle. A Saint Andrew's Cross, complete with leather restraints. Various spanking benches with moveable frames. Ropes and chains hanging from the ceiling. Several tables with manacles of different types. A whole wall dedicated to the storage of floggers, crops and whips of different sizes and specialties.
She breathed in the scents of leather and musk and excitement, before becoming aware of the sounds. Moans, gasps, the slap of implements on bare skin. Higher-pitched tones of begging and pleading, deeper tones of instructions being issued.
Lisa was suddenly overwhelmed. Her knees buckled slightly, and she was grateful for the solid physical presence behind her. Warm hands gripped her upper arms, grounding her.
"Are you ok? All too much?"
She shook her head slightly. "It's fine, there's just lots to take in."
"It's your first time anywhere like this. How much research have you done?"
"Just reading fiction, really, I wanted to see for myself."
Her eyes landed on a woman spreadeagled and bound on a padded table. She was naked apart from a blindfold, her long, dark hair loose beneath her head. Her nipples were turgid peaks, her mons shaved completely bare. A fully-clothed man walked around her, wielding a leather crop. Pink marks on her torso indicated where she had already been struck, but every time it landed, she gasped and arched up towards it, as though it were kissing her flesh rather than causing any real pain. As Lisa watched, the man positioned himself between the submissive's spread legs, flicking the crop lightly over her inner thighs. She whimpered, and began to beg.
"Please? Please? Please, Sir, let me. I'm so close....please!"
"Not yet," her tormentor said, calmly. "You need to wait."
The woman writhed against her restraints as the crop worked closer to her mound, and her Dom placed his hand on her vulva, spreading her glistening labia.
"Now," he instructed, as he landed the crop precisely on her swollen clit.
The helpless submissive screamed her release, and Lisa realised she had been holding her breath, so entranced was she by the scene taking place before her. She exhaled in a rush, feeling a sudden gush of wetness between her thighs in response to the woman's obvious climax.
The Dom was releasing his submissive now, checking her ankles and wrists where the restraints had been, before slipping off the blindfold, gathering her into his arms, and kissing her thoroughly.
"Are they a couple, or just playing?" she whispered curiously.
"They're a couple," he replied. "The Masters and Mistresses who work here are professionals; they provide a service, but don't form romantic attachments."
She nodded, relieved to realise that rules and boundaries were maintained, even here.
"Do you want to watch some more, or go to a room now?" he asked.
She turned and looked up at him, realising that even in her heeled boots, he towered over her by over a foot.
"I'd like to go to a room, please."
He took her hand. She liked the feeling of being guided by him, back through the wooden double doors and out into the corridor. He pressed a keypad next to one of the smaller doors along the long wall, and it clicked open.
"These are private rooms," he explained, "but everything is monitored and accessible at all times. Safe, sane, consensual. Always."
Lisa appreciated everything he was saying to reassure her, but still felt butterflies in her tummy as they entered the room. It looked like a hotel room at first, with clean, crisp linens on the king-sized bed that dominated the room. On closer look, there were restraints at the head and foot, and the pillows were different shapes and sizes – maybe more functional than decorative. There was a leather sofa, and a long low cupboard unit against one wall, on top of which were various accoutrements, including lengths of what looked like silk, an eye-mask, a small leather flogger, and a feather duster.
Max watched as she made a visible effort to steady her breathing. She was turning her wedding ring round and round on her finger as though to remind herself of why she was there.