Jazzy was pacing around the living room, looking down occasionally at the ad she held in her hand, undecided if she should go or not. I am thirty years old and need what this club offers but what if I run into someone I know? That would be so embarrassing. Guess I could go online and check out some of those special internet dating sites. Jazzy, get a grip and go; if you don’t you are going to regret it. You are not going to run into anyone you know. Jazzy gave a big sigh and moved toward the bathroom to take a shower. Jazzy worked as an emergency room clerk so she did not have any sexy clothes except for her little black dress but in her case, it was burgundy.

Well, guess that will have to do, Jazzy thought as she got dressed and then called for a cab. The more she thought about what she was going to do the more excited she became. Just thinking about it dampened her panties, causing that familiar ache every time she watched porn videos about it, pretending it was her. Jazzy heard the cab toot out front so she grabbed her small handbag and headed out.

It was a Friday night and the traffic was heavy at times but it gave her time to think. Jazzy could almost feel his hands on her and she wanted nothing more than to rub her clit and finger fuck herself until she came but she was in public in the back seat of a cab. I wonder if he is into my kink, as she stared at the back of his head. As if her hand had a mind of its own, it slid under her dress until she was palming her mound. She could feel the moistness gathering there on the thin covering of her thong. Pushing it aside, Jazzy slid one finger inside of her pussy, slowly moving in and out. As she was moving toward the crest, Jazzy felt the cab stop.

Jazzy quickly pulled her finger out, still dripping wet with her juices as she opened her purse to look for a tissue and the money for the fare, Finding one, she wiped her finger off and then handed him a ten-dollar bill.

“Keep the change,” Jazzy told him, opening the door and stepping out, looking at the impressive building before her. Although it was on the outskirts of town, it looked like a modern office building with tinted windows across the front and a doorman standing at the entrance.

“Welcome to the Pleasure Palace,” he told her as he held the door open for her.

She smiled and stepped into the entryway where she was met by a woman dressed in a stunning red dress that showed more cleavage than it covered and a slit on the side that reached her waist. She was standing beside a podium in front of another door. The woman eyed Jazzy up and down, and then said, “What is your membership number?”

Holding out the ad, Jazzy said, “This ad says I am allowed one free time as a guest before I join."

The woman looked at the ad and then reached into a box, handing Jazzy a small silver disc attached to a pin. “Put this on your dress where it is visible so everyone knows you are a guest. Do you have a particular kink or are you just shopping?”

Jazzy thought a moment and finally said, “Yes, I have a kink; spanking,”

“Giving, receiving, or both?” the woman asked without batting an eye as she looked at the screen of a NoteBook in front of her. “Are you experienced or inexperienced?”

With so many questions being fired at her, Jazzy now wished that she had just said she was shopping but then, how would she have met anyone who shared her kink if she didn’t know where to look. “Receiving and inexperienced but am I limited to my kink or can I try other things?”

“No, you are not limited to your kink but for newcomers or guests, we just ask to make their visit more enjoyable."

“I understand. It is a way to turn guests into members,” she told her sarcastically.

The woman shot her a disapproving look, asking, “I have a Dom who I am sure would be glad to help you experience your kink. Would you like to meet him or explore the Red Room?”

“I am not looking to be a submissive to no man,” Jazzy said with a hint of anger in her voice. If I knew I was going to have to play fifty questions I would have stayed home, watched porn, and masturbated. “I will take my chances on the Red Room,” thinking how original. Spanking generally led to a red ass.

The woman hit a buzzer and the doors slowly opened. “There are signs designating room. Enjoy. The club closes at two a.m.”

When Jazzy stepped through the doors, she was thrust into a room that was dimly lit by purple lights, with soft music playing in the background. It gave a sexual ambiance to the room. People were walking around the room, some were sitting on the long couches and chairs talking to others, or just watching what was going on in the room. Everyone, no matter what they were doing, was there for a common goal; a hookup for the night.

To the side of the room was a bar but there were also waiters in black tuxes walking around with a tray of glasses of what Jazzy figured was champagne. She could see on the other side of the room several rooms with little white shingles of yesteryear hanging in front of the rooms announcing what went on in those various rooms. Jazzy snagged a glass from a passing waiter, surveying the scene before her.

The women were dressed in formal, semi-formal, and dressy clothes while the men all wore dark colored suits and white shirts; apparently, ties were optional. From the ones close by that she could see all were wearing a golden disc with a few silver ones thrown into the mix. As Jazzy sipped her champagne, a younger man approached her from behind.

“Hello, my name is John. Welcome to the Pleasure Palace,” as he glanced down at the disc pinned to her shoulder. "Are you shopping or looking for something in particular?” although he already knew who she was and her kink the moment after she walked into the room thanks to a text from Esmeralda at the podium.

Realizing she was out of her element and if she wanted to enjoy her kink she was going to have to ask or hint at it. “Sort of both,” Jazzy said. “I am looking for the Red Room,” feeling her face and body heat up. Thank goodness for the dim lights. This is harder than I thought. Maybe I should have taken her up on the offer earlier. Damn it to hell, when am I going to ever learn to put my brain in gear before putting my mouth in motion. So what if he was a Dom or whatever you call those people? It was not like I had to go into submissive mode, or at least I hoped I would not have to but that is a moot point now.

Looking up at the man Jazzy realized that he was not but about four or five inches taller than she was so she would not get a pain in her neck looking up at him. Being only 5’4”, most men towered over me. She saw a slight smile come over his face.

“That is one of my favorite rooms,” he told her. “I will be glad to show you the room. May I ask if this is one of your kinks?” making idle small talk, feeling that familiar ache in his cock at the thought of a willing woman lying across his lap as his hand turned her cheeks red and then fucking her doggie style.

John quickly tried to divert his thoughts from his fantasy before his cock was so hard it was sticking out like someone could hang bracelets on it. I need to get me another submissive. Swallowing hard, John forced himself to remember it was her first night and she wanted to experience a kink that was right up his alley.

Without thinking, John said, “Turn around. I want to see your ass,”

“What?” Jazzy asked him. “Why do you want to see my ass?”

“The Red Room,” he said as if those three words explained it all.

Jazzy stood there, mentally cursing herself from picking up that ad on the park bench where someone had left it. I should have ignored that paper and left it there like the person who had the ad before me did. This is stupid. At least I haven’t paid for anything yet. Looking at John, Jazzy said, “Sorry, thought I could do this but I cannot."

As she looked for a place to put her now empty glass, John reached out, touched her arm, and said, “Yes you can. It will take time. Let me give you my phone number and if you have any questions or want to explore your kink, call me,”

“Thanks but there is no need to give me your number. I am not acting on my kink,” as she pulled her phone out of her purse to call for a cab. Suddenly she felt the phone being taken out of her hand. Looking up, she saw John putting his contact information into her phone and then handed back to her.

After Jazzy called for a cab, John waited outside with her until it came. He helped her in the backseat and then through the driver some money

“The fare is paid so call me when you want to talk,” before he turned and went back into the club.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked.

She gave her address and the cab pulled away. Jazzy gave a huge sigh and settle back to relieve her strange evening that had just pass.