Page 72 of The Naughty List

“Whoa,” the cab driver comments as we reach the courtyard of the manor. “This is quite something.”

“Sure is,” I agree as I hand over the fare.

So much for running away from this place if I get freaked out. I wouldn’t even make it back to the road.

I click onarrivedonce the cab is off, standing in the glow of the courtyard lighting. It’s a cold night, and my bare legs are goosebumped. I’m wearing virtually nothing under my coat, just a short black dress that will pull off easily, and a lacy lingerie set. It won’t take me long to get out of it – naked and ready to use from the moment I arrive in User 109’s dungeon.

Use the door knocker, the message says, and I look at the huge arched doorway ahead. The twist of ivy looks magical in the warm glow of the lanterns on either side.

I’ll be quivering with fear and nerves for the next eight hours straight, so there is no point delaying the inevitable or trying to calm myself down. Ebony’s words play through my head – her concerns niggling like tickles at the back of my mind. Maybe she was right and this was too much for a newbie like me. I feel the urge to bolt, but keep walking until I reach the huge stone steps.

The door knocker looks fitting for a regal movie. A lion’s head with a huge ring coming from its mouth. It takes real force to thump it against the wood.

And then I wait.

Shivering.

Edgy.

Crapping myself with the grandeur and gravity of what is lying ahead for me behind this door.

The door doesn’t creak when it opens, just swings smoothly on huge hinges, showing a foyer lit up magnificently behind my client. He’s hidden in the shadows as he gestures me in with awelcome, and I could laugh a little as he finally appears before me in full lighting. Part of me had been picturing him like Hannibal Lecter, but no. Of course not.

User 109 is lean and imposing, yes, but he looks like more of an intellectual than a monster. He has a chiselled jaw, and hazel brown eyes behind his glasses, dressed in a plush dressing robe over a shirt and tie.

He smiles and asks for my coat and bag, which I hand over with athank you. Weirdly, I feel more exposed than usual in such a tiny, basic outfit. Less of a confident, dressed up slut, out to impress her clients. Here, standing before him, I’m just me, without the mask of fishnets and corset lacing.

“Take off your shoes, please,” he tells me, and I nod before leaving them on the shoe rack. My bare feet are cold on his chequered floor tiles.

He makes no attempt at small talk, so I stay quiet, merely following. His energy deepens as he leads me through his house, through a corridor off to the right, and down a spiral stone staircase to another heavy wooden door.

Seems he wasn’t joking when he saiddungeon. My instincts shoot back in as I stand there on the steps, white knuckles gripping the railing in a vice as he turns the key in the lock. I could run. My legs are tense and ready to bolt, all fantasies of sinking straight into a heady subspace all drying up to nothing.

Standing here – ready to enter a real-life dungeon, in a manor house off grid from the rest of the world, feels like full on insanity. The crazy feeling doesn’t ease off when the door swings open and I see the full scope of the wonder waiting inside. User 109 wasn’t exaggerating in his proposal, this a BDSM dungeon worthy of a specialist club. He has everything laid out to perfection, spaced out with plenty of room, and a whole host of implements lining the walls, all lit up with spotlights. He even has a gas style mask for cyber play.

I repeat my safe word in my head on loop, flag, flag, flag, flag, flag, but he addresses that angle as he closes the door behind us.

“You are free to use your safe word at any time, Holly. I will loosen you from your bonds and call you a cab immediately with no problem whatsoever. I will simply deduct whatever fee is remaining from your earnings.”

I nod at him. “Thank you.”

“If you are gagged, or unable to use your safe word, there is a rhythm of beats you can use with any part of your body available. Hands, feet, fingers, whatever is free.” He shows me by knocking the rhythm out on the wall beside us.Three, pause, four, pause, five, pause.“Any other noise or objections you make will be taken as part of the playtime. Please be as expressive as you need to be. Moans, begs, screams and protests are all perfectly acceptable, I will read them in line with the scene. I believe the proposal demonstrates what kind of experience is ahead for you, but do you have any questions?”

I’m still looking around in amazement. My eyes are fixated on the rack. I’ve never been on a rack before.

“No, thank you. No questions.”

“It’s Sir now, please.”

His tone is so sharp, my eyes flit straight back to his.

“Of course, yes. No questions, thank you, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now strip for me.”

He steps away for a full view as I pull my dress up and off, casting it away to the side. I unhook my bra and toss it down, then step out of my panties. I’ve never felt so naked in my life as User 109 –Sir -–paces around for a full 360. His eyes rove all over me, and I bow my head, fingers hooked together as my legs tremble. I can’t help it.

“You’re certain you’re ready for this experience?” he asks me, taking off his grand burgundy robe and hanging it on the back of the door. He’s fully suited underneath, in posh brogues.

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