It doesn't seem like much when we arrive, just an unassuming building with stairs going down into a basement. Security guards are on the doors, checking everyone is abiding with the dress code. This is a safe place and signs with rules on are everywhere to help maintain that safety. I see people walking around wearing the initials 'DM' on an armband, and Chaz explains to me that these are dungeon monitors. They are employed to maintain the safety of everyone, which puts me at ease.
She takes me to the bar and buys me a rum and coke and tells me this is a safe area. Sex is completely off-limits here. There's a dance floor, poles and podiums and music from The Cure and Joy Division is playing. All very 80's and like any regular kind of club. A lot of people coming here just liked clubbing and were not here necessarily for sex.
Chaz turns to me to speak again. She had been wearing a long, red, wool coat but has now removed it so I can see her outfit. It's a latex black bodysuit with a plunging neckline and matching knee-high, heeled platform boots. Her hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail, and she has smoky eyeshadow and red lips. It's a very harsh look, and I feel a bit intimidated.
She has dressed me up in a sheer, black tee with faux leather trousers and underneath I'm wearing some latex, lace-up boxers with a zip. Chaz is really into fetish wear, but I feel embarrassed. I then see another man walk past in some arseless chaps, being led on a leash by a woman wearing a catsuit. A woman next to us at the bar is only wearing some black tape to protect her modesty. In comparison, we were wearing a lot more clothes.
"I'm going to show you around the playrooms," Chaz smiles.
I nod. Before I got here, I had already been ordered to keep silent the whole time. I am the submissive and will be punished if I disobey or displease Chaz in some way.
Leading me by the hand, we make our way through the haze of smoke and past a set of double doors. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but I'm staggered by what I see. The man that walked past me with his mistress earlier is strapped down by his arms. The domme gleefully whipping him.
There are more of these whipping and bondage benches, and I wonder whether Chaz is also going to tie me to one, but then she keeps on walking, making me sigh in relief. I wasn't keen on a public spanking.
The next thing she shows me is a couple of cages. Some are standing height, but the others are like kennels for those into being treated like a dog.
Connected to this social area are side rooms with other furniture in like sex swings and couches and in another a stockade and a St Andrew's cross. The thought of being strapped to this and flogged by Chaz is exhilarating. There's also a medical-style room with gynaecology tables and even a shower room.
We arrive back to the bar, and the club is now busy. It's full of people wearing latex, leather or gothic clothes. The music has now changed to Industrial metal, and several people were dancing, bodies grinding against each other.
Chaz is talking animatedly with another man wearing leather trousers and a restraint belt across his broad chest. He has two women with him, eyes downcast and wearing matching outfits of collars, nipple tassels and thong.
She introduces me as her new submissive briefly, but then they turn their backs, ignoring me as they continue their conversation. I feel a pang of jealousy and annoyance. I want her undivided attention.
Eventually, he downs the rest of his drink and leaves, taking his women into the playrooms, and Chaz finally speaks to me again.
"So I haven't scared you off, have I?"
I shake my head, so she reaches into her bag and pulls out a silver box which she opens and presents to me. Inside is a heavy, black leather collar with a chunky ring in the middle.
Wordlessly she moves behind me and puts it on, not waiting for my reaction. Her delicate hands tickle, but I fight to not react to it. I can feel the warmth from her breath on my neck, and I become aroused. I want to be taken to the playroom too.
She doesn't though and instead buys us another drink. I know she's trying to make me tipsy, so I relax more, but I feel impatient. As soon as the bartender puts it down, I knock it back. I don't want to wait any longer. Chaz lets out a laugh.
"Someone is eager," she remarks and smiles cruelly, "I'll make you regret rushing me."
I feel slight apprehension at these words, but I'm still eager. I feel like a puppy going for a walk as she attaches the matching leash to my collar and drags me along behind her through the double doors.
She leads me straight to a whipping bench where she orders me to remove my trousers and top which I do without complaint despite the fear I feel.
It's a scary-looking bit of furniture; black with several restraints. She orders me to kneel on it, splaying me apart, and my stomach and chest lay against the cold padding. Her hands tighten the restraints around my ankles, calves and thighs then around my wrists and biceps. I feel utterly helpless and at her mercy.
"What's your safe word?" She barks at me.
"Banoffee," I utter back.
I hear her heels click against the floor. I have no idea what to expect but feel conscious that this is in a communal area, and everyone walking past will be able to witness it. I ready myself.
The first slap takes me by surprise. Not because it's painful but because it's from her bare hand and feels amazing. Every so often, she changes sides and increases the intensity until my backside feels slightly warm and tingly.
Her hands then reach down to my crotch, and she unzips the underwear giving her easy access to me. Her hand slips in and starts stroking my cock then cups my balls which she tugs on gently. A groan leaves my mouth. I'm dying to be touched by her.
"Did I tell you to talk?" She shrieks.
Angry, she stops touching me, and I hear her walk away again to get something else. She then goes silent, so I turn my head to try and see what she's doing. I get a glimpse of her returning with a flogger which looks menacing.
The sensation I receive isn't what I'm expecting though. I thought she was going to thrash me but instead, she strokes me with it along my shoulders and down my back. She then teases it against my intimate areas which immediately makes me hard, and I accidentally sigh again.
I hear a swish and then a thud as it lands against my buttocks gently. It's less painful than her hand, but it soon becomes more intense as she increases the rhythm. She moves down to my upper legs then back up to my buttocks again in a pattern, predictably.
I absorb the sensations and then relax into it as the warmth caresses me. It feels delicious like a massage, and I don't want it to stop. If this is what punishment is like I would misbehave regularly.
Abruptly I hear a slightly different swishing sound which catches me off guard after nearly being lulled to sleep.
The flogger hits, pain searing down my upper leg. I let out a yelp. It doesn't feel the same.
Another stroke hits my bottom, which makes me grit my teeth. I receive another ten of these which make my backside burn painfully.
"Do you enjoy being flogged?"
I shake my head vigorously as she continues to strike me, each tail stinging along my skin. This couldn't be the same flogger. It felt too different, but I don't yell out, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing how it feels. I'm not going to safe out this early.
I feel a sharp tug as my head is pulled up by my hair. Chaz's face is an inch away from mine, and she smirks. I want to kiss her. Sweat is glistening on her body from the workout she's getting. In her hand is a black cane which she then flexes menacingly making me want to shrink away.
I watch her heels disappear again as she moves behind me and I try to brace myself.
A whoosh sound cuts through the air. I feel a tingle go up to my neck in anticipation of the pain that is going to follow.
I feel the initial sting but then a white-hot pain sears along my bottom. A slight whimper leaves my lips from the shock of it.
She leaves it there briefly then strikes me again, the same pain radiating along a line on my already inflamed skin. This is all focused on my backside, still covered with my underwear. After eight more strikes, I want to get away from the pain. Adrenaline is rushing through me, and I start to struggle in the restraints.
"Breathe," Chaz says, gently noticing my panic.
She reduces the intensity, and I take some deep breaths in and out to try and calm myself down. Eventually, my heart rate starts to slow, and I don't end up using my safe word.
I receive another ten of these slightly gentler strokes that have a longer pause between them so I can process the sensation better. She then stops to unlace my pants and removes them, completely exposing me.
I feel ashamed but then hear a swoosh again and another sear of pain. These strokes continue, but it becomes duller than before. I start to care less about my lack of modesty and relax into the strikes.
The intensity increases again, which hurts, and I let out a muffled yell. She doesn't ease up, and I try to breathe through them, but the pain spreads outs and vibrates down into my penis and balls. I don't want to disappoint her, and I fight back the tears as she continues.
One of her hands grabs hold of my cock and plays with it again bringing me to the edge of no return. With the next strike, I groan loudly in pleasure as I cum, unsure whether that was just for my enjoyment or hers.
I'm struck against my thighs next, and I shout out in pain again. At some point, I start to feel detached from the pain as though I'm just witnessing it. A blissful sensation comes over me like a high, and the pain stops registering even as the cane lands with a loud Thhhwackkk.
After a moment, I become aware that the strikes have now stopped. I feel completely exhausted and overwhelmed but notice a hand is gently rubbing my face and neck, soothingly.
"Matthew, are you ok?" Chaz whispers in my ear.
I nod, acknowledging her words.
"You've been such a good boy for your Mistress."
Her hands carefully remove my restraints, and she helps me stand up. I don't know how long I've been there, but I feel weak.
I become aware of the other people around us and my nakedness, but I'm too tired to care and allow myself to be gently led by my leash in a daze while the others whisper about what they had witnessed.
She takes me to a couch, lays me down and starts stroking my body and massaging my shoulders and back. It feels amazing after the pain I just experienced. She leaves briefly then returns with a bottle of water that she orders me to drink. I start feeling slightly better and less disorientated, but my ass and thighs feel very tender.
She leads me to a shower room to get my wounds cleaned up. I'm more with it, and she removes my collar. I look over my shoulder at myself in a mirror and see thick, raised, welts covering me from my backside downwards. Some were bleeding, open cuts, and it looks terrible, but I feel a sense of pride and achievement. I have pleased her.
Her hands carefully wash the wounds clean; the water tinged pink from the blood. She then applies a small amount of cream delicately which stings, but I enjoy the attention she is giving me.
I start to shiver, and she wraps her arms around me and warms me up. I don't want her to let me go and could happily stay like this forever, but then she pulls away to put my collar back on.
I'm led back through to the play area and then out into the bar. I feel cold again, my body naked and raw. I look around and notice I'm not the only one, but I don't enjoy being on show like this. I want to get dressed.
She hands me another bottle of water and orders herself a vodka. The man she was speaking to earlier approaches again, his leather belt undone. He only has one woman with him now.
"Your sub did well for his first time. He must have a good Mistress."
"Thank you. I'm very pleased with him. He may get treats tonight," Chaz says then swats my bottom.
I yelp in pain, but I feel happy knowing I have done well and might be getting some rewards.
The man continues talking about how he'd broken one of his girls tonight, and she had left to go home. Chaz finishes her drink then excuses herself, pulling me back to the playrooms.
To my dismay, she takes me to a table which she binds me to, putting a ball gag in my mouth and my legs in stirrups. This is the "medical" room, and it's very clinical, and I feel afraid of what is to come.
She snaps on a rub glove and lubes up, and I sigh in relief that I'm not being caned again. The pain from my wounds have intensified against the table, and I knew I wasn't able to bear any more of that.
She inserts a finger inside me and then adds another. I've been violated like this before by Ruth, and it didn't feel too bad. She then grabs hold of my cock, running her hand up and down it. The sensation is blissful. She's kind to me, and I don't want it to stop.
I then feel her add another finger, and I start to panic. She shushes me telling me what a good boy I've been and tells me to relax as she did earlier to calm me down.
She then inserts a buttplug. I'm not expecting it and let out a muffled squeal as I squirm. She cackles with laughter at my helplessness. It feels unusual.
I'm then aware of others coming past the room and feel shy as they quickly glance over at me. Chaz isn't bothered in the slightest, but she's still fully dressed. I look away hoping to steady my nerves. I feel like an exhibit and don't want to make eye contact.
I then see her insert a sounding rod before playing with me again; tugging and squeezing my balls hard while she wanks me off. It's very intense and pleasurable, but as I get close to orgasm, she stops. It seems like hours that she tortures me like this, but it's probably only been thirty minutes.
She then removes the ball gag, and I notice the drool which embarrasses me.
"Do you want me to allow you to cum?" She yells.
"Yes, Mistress," I reply.
"How much?"
"More than anything.
"More than you love my pussy?"
"No Mistress. I adore your pussy."
"I want you to shout out my name when you come."
She becomes rougher with me but doesn't stop this time.
"Uhhhh Mistress," I groan as I feel the pleasure increase.
Audibly I cum up my stomach and chest. I've made a big mess, and now I'm worried about being in trouble, but she doesn't pay any interest disappointedly. She removes the sounding rod and plug and cleans them before unstrapping me.
She then tosses over some paper towels and wipes to clean myself up then grabs me by the collar again.
This time she takes me back to the black couch and unzips the crotch on her bodysuit. With a pull of the leash, she gets me on my hands and knees and tugs me in towards her opened legs.
She's incredibly wet, turned on by playing with my body and caning me. As a sadist, my cries of pain and pleasure and complete surrender to her have been exciting. It is now her turn to get attention.
She lifts her legs on to my back, and her heels dig into the flesh of my sore bottom. It hurts, and I want to back away, but she's holding the leash at a short length preventing me from escaping.
Her other hand reaches down to hold herself open to help me. I begin to suck on the sensitive folds, and she starts to moan in happiness, her eyes closed. I kiss her and then flick against her with my tongue, varying the strokes and pressure. Small sighs escape her lips, urging me on, so I continue to lick her with my tongue. Her thighs grip tightly around my head as she orgasms nearly crushing me.
Her eyes flicker open and meet mine. She glances down and sees I'm aroused again. I want her to fuck me in sinfully wicked ways forever.
She pushes me back with her foot then stands over me, giving me a good view of her soaking wet pussy before she sits on top of me. Her hands pin my arms to the floor, but I can easily get up if I want.
The others walk around us as she rides me. I've been wanting this all night and don't care that we're being seen.
She leans back, and I watch her play with herself as she grinds me. Her other hand unzips the top of her bodysuit, and her breasts spill out deliciously. I want to reach out and touch her as well, but I don't receive that order.
She cries out my name as she orgasms around me. She continues to fuck me harder and harder until I eventually orgasm loudly as well, and we lay breathless and exhausted.
The brief rest lasts for only a few minutes before she stands up and orders me to clean her up, my tongue tasting the combination of both mine and her fluids.
Sated she dresses then orders me to stay put while she finds my clothes. Someone pats me on the head and calls me a good puppy which I don't like, but she returns quickly and scares them off. I dress quickly.
When we get on the train to travel back home, I rest my head on her lap as she strokes my head affectionately. Tiredness and fatigue sets in. I'm eager to get home and snuggle her in bed for the rest of the night.