15
Regina
This club was a wondrous adventure, unlike anything I’d ever seen. My feisty friends in college had introduced me to some clubs: grunge, techno, gay, and bisexual, but nothing like this.
The dimness inside this building didn’t hide the fine art on the walls, or the winding array of tanks lit in hues of blues and purple that housed sharks and a variety of marine life I couldn’t name. The high ceiling wavered against my sight, and the dim lighting kept me from making out its design.
There were cages at varied stages inside the open-floor plan. One cage hung dangling from the ceiling, swinging with slow ease as the scantily clad woman inside motioned her body to keep it moving. A few other cages were strategically placed throughout the expansive club, the sexy women inside enticing any eyes willing to take a look.
As far as my eye could see was a sea of members, Doms with their subs and what I assumed were female Doms with theirs. The scene sparked with dominating elegance. It wasn’t trashy. It was laced with an assured level of kinky sophistication.
Ansel was introducing me to a part of his world that I’d grossly misjudged. I’d entered my first BDSM club. Surprisingly, I was impressed by the scenery and intrigued about the lifestyle as a whole.
After Ansel described the way he and others viewed me, it boosted my self-confidence by leaps and bounds. The fact that he saw me as a sexy vixen blew my mind. All I’d ever believed before was that I was inadequate when it came to men, weak when it came to protecting myself, and helpless when it came to escaping my family.
I’d never been anything but a victim, and if August Knox hadn’t crossed my path when he did, I doubt I would have rebuilt the strength I’d needed to run away from my family again. Now, being with Ansel was teaching me more about my personal self than I could fathom.
Ansel’s grip tightened around my hand as we rounded a bend that took us into a short entryway that led to a set of thick steel doors. Six digits were keyed into a lighted keypad before he waved his palm across a beaming green light.
The door popped open, and he nudged me into a hall that led to a gold and black marble staircase so elegantly crafted, you couldn’t help but marvel at it.
Ansel stepped while I wobbled down the stairs before my view became filled with a whole new world to explore. The upstairs area was alive with sexual chemistry and music punctuated the background. This area breathed with the intensity of desires dense enough to swim through.
“Upstairs you were on Cloud Nine. This area of the basement is called The Vault,” Ansel stated, answering questions he knew I had.
We approached and sat on a caramel leather couch. At first glance, its color floated against the darkness before blending into it. My neck swiveled, taking in the spirited activities that surrounded me. I observed as Ansel chatted with who I assumed was another wealthy member of the club. The man spoke with a heavy British accent, and although he appeared no older than Ansel, he carried an air of elegance and class that seemed to surpass his age.
The man sat on the plush couch adjacent to the one we sat on while his sub kneeled at his feet with her head on his lap. He’d pat or rub her head once in a while. The woman didn’t appear bothered by her positioning. Her relaxed posture and serene facial expression revealed a peaceful state of contentment. She enjoyed being his pet.
My head remained lowered as I snatched glances at their interactions and at my surroundings. A loud burst of thunder clapped, shaking my insides as an instant jolt of fright bolted through my body. I inched closer to Ansel, gripping his strong arm like my life depended on it.
Every light in the place had gone out, and every voice had quieted. No shuffling feet. No conversations, drinking or dancing. All had been paused and drenched into a thick darkness that was alive with anticipation.
“It’s okay. The show will start soon,” Ansel whispered, his lips teasing my lobes as his warm breath eased some of my tension.
What show?What was Ansel talking about? My questions sat, parked on my tongue so I didn’t come off as a disobedient sub. Shadows billowed against the darkness, in quiet wait, searching for the spark that would bring life back into this space.
I jumped. The lights surrounding a stage I didn’t know was there popped on with a loud, scratching flick. Small specks of light started to sparkle from the ceiling like stars twinkling in the sky. My anxious gaze roamed as my neck twisted back and forth. The stage and scene starting to unfold stilled me.
Movement on the stage gave way to light in hues of blues and greens that lit up the scene. I could make out a large bed, its thick wooden posts nearly reaching the ceiling. Atop the bed was a woman. Her pale skin transcended the dimness surrounding her, acting as part of the lighting. More light started to bring the scene to life. The woman was faced down, her limbs tied to each of the thick bedposts, spread wide. The visible part of her face bore distress.
The male character appeared, creeping onto the scene from the darkness behind the stage. Naked, his flaccid dick swung as he walked around the bed, circling his prey. I gawked, namely at his dick. Even though it wasn’t hard, I could tell that it was large. However, I didn’t think it was as large as Ansel’s when I touched it that one time he’d put my hand on it. It felt like he’d had a snake moving inside his pants.
The wicked thought warmed my cheeks, painting my brown skin in hues of pink. Thank goodness for the darkness. My gaze found Ansel, barely making out the profile of his face, but not missing that his gaze was on me.
A loud snap lured my attention back to the stage. The naked man held a long whip after having landed a lick across the woman’s back. She screamed out her pain, making me recoil with tension as her eyes pinched tight and her cries filled up the room.
Another loud snap caused me to jump before I squeezed Ansel’s arm. Torn, I gawked and feared for the woman, praying they were acting.
My gaze darted around the space, parted the darkness, and I witnessed self-gratifying play, and eager hands shoved down pants and up skirts or dresses. Some couples were one move away from having sex in front of everyone. This audience was getting off on what they viewed on stage. A snap sounded once more, echoing across the space as the woman’s hair-raising scream sent my face behind Ansel’s arm.
He leaned back so that he could capture my eyes.
“You will watch,” he commanded as he turned my face towards the couple on the stage.
“He’s hurting her,” I murmured, pleading for Ansel to do something.
“He’s not hurting her. She probably disobeyed him like you do me, now she deserves her punishment.”