Page 38 of Untether

I haven’t seen her since yesterday, and the parallel I could draw with a groom not seeing his bride until the BigMoment is too fucking weird. What’s even weirder is that we’ll be filmed, for this first bit, at least. The camera and lighting setup is as basic as the production team could make it, the crew as skeleton.

The idea, apparently, is to capture the tension and anticipation that many women would feel when walking into a sex club to have some form of sexual relations. It’s also to showcase Alchemy. We’ve had a camera crew in several days this week, getting B-roll of the club’s layout, but the viewers are bound to be curious.

They’ll want to see this den of sin. They’re sure as hell not going to get any footage of me and Aida doing anything intimate, so these initial moments will need to provide a frisson all by themselves. As soon as that’s covered off, as efficiently and candidly as possible, the crew will dismantle the two sets of lights currently ruining my carefully created vibe in the room and get the hell out of there.

Lights aside, it’s looking good, I think. We opted to use one of our largest rooms and we’ve hidden all clues of kink. Alchemy’s an upmarket place with a luxury vibe that’s all the more alluring for its subtlety, but still. The hanging cuffs have been unscrewed from the ceiling for today’s purposes, the bowls of condoms and lube removed.

The huge bed with its black satin sheets is gone, in its place a professional massage table, complete with white terry towelling fitted sheet, making the place look positively spa-like and giving us some much-needed space to accommodate these fucking lights.

There are candles everywhere—scented ones, filling the room with neroli and geranium and whatever else Gen said would be relaxing. Instead of the sexy, sultry bass that usually plays, we’ve hooked the sound system up with thatpan-pipe type of yogi crap. A marble tray stands in the place of the usual condom bowl, laden with luxurious body oils and creams.

And yeah, there’s a tube of lube, too. I wouldn’t be a good Boy Scout if I didn’t cover all eventualities.

All this is to say that the space looks like a spa, it smells like a spa, it sounds like a spa, and it’ll hopefully sayspaand notkinkyden of fuckeryto Aida when she walks in. I’ve gone for black fitted pants and a tight black crewneck t-shirt, which I think makes me look professional but also makes my arms and pecs look fuckinghugeas I surreptitiously flex them in the massive mirror that’s a staple in all our private rooms.Watch and weep, Henry Cavill.

The entire crew for this production is female, and I’m the only bloke here today aside from Zach and Rafe, who are safely locked away upstairs in the office. There are two camera operators, the lighting person, Lizzy, and Darika, the producer, who’s promised to stay back. This is a documentary, not a reality TV show. We’re not scripted.

We’re just us.

‘She’s coming,’ Temi, one of the camera operators says, and I stand in the doorway with Temi behind me, shooting over my shoulder as Aida pads down the corridor. The other camera is trailing her. She’s in white slippers and a fluffy white robe, and that bloody bridal analogy hits me again as she comes towards me.

Fuck’s sake.

I stick my hands in my pockets and grin at her. ‘Ah, Ms Russell,’ I say, watching with gratification as she takes me in and gives me that signature move of hers. That sensual swipe of her tongue along her bottom lip. ‘Ready for a good pummelling?’ I ask with a smirk.

As I’ve intended, she laughs. ‘Nice.’ She stops in front of me, and we size each other up in front of the camera. She’s holding the robe’s lapels tightly closed with one hand.

No matter.

I’ll get it off her soon enough.

‘I’m Callum, and I’ll be your masseur today,’ I tell her. We absolutely didn’t plan to do this as a role play, but I’m up for having fun with this and I’m definitely up for making her feel as relaxed as possible. ‘Happy ending optional. Come on through.’

She wisely ignores my comment and sweeps through the doorframe far more imperiously than anyone should be able to do in a robe and slippers. Once the cameras are in, I stand behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. Fuck, they’re stiff. I pull her back against me.

‘What do you think?’

‘It feels like a real spa,’ she says, sounding faintly surprised. She inhales deeply, her lungs filling up against my chest. ‘It smells amazing.’

‘Good.’ I kiss the top of her head. ‘I want this to be somewhere you can relax and let go.’ I slide my hands along her shoulders, over soft cotton waffle and fine bones, and squeeze her biceps.

‘What do you say we kick the cameras out and we find out exactly how relaxed I can make you?’

She twists her head, looking up at me, and I hope the cameras catch her facial expression, because there’s already a levity to it. She trusts me, I think, and she’s actually up for this. She seems more anticipatory than scared.

‘I’m down with that,’ she murmurs.

‘That’s my girl.’ I squeeze her arms again without letting go and stand back so Temi and her colleague can get past.Temi backs out, and I lean against the doorframe, grinning straight at the lens.

‘See you later,’ I tell the camera. ‘I’ve got this.’

And I wink.

25

AIDA

“The Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field.”

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