Code Of Command (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novella Trilogy, Book 1) (4 page)

Go. Ask questions. Watch. Learn. There are a number of places you can find --with very friendly individuals in the scene as moderators or hosts – that will welcome you with open arms. Do this tonight or tomorrow, and then report back to me.

Until then darling Alex,

Dr. T.

He knew the answers. He knew where I should go to get the information I needed for my novel. The novel, I thought. At times, I found myself so wrapped up in my emails with Dr. T I had forgotten what led me down this path in the first place.

Obviously, I’d need to do an internet search to see what a muench was and I feared venturing into an actual play party or sex club, but, deep down, I knew I must. I had real life experiences and lovers to draw from for my first novels and this one was no different. Dr. T was turning out to be more than a muse, but a guide and I welcomed his presence on my journey.

I heard Roderick’s speedy steps as he sauntered back to the table. Looking around frantically for the waitress, he asked, “We’re just about wrapped here, but did you want to order a couple more drinks, sweetie? Put a pitcher of sangria and more oysters on the expense?”

“Oh, I’d love to, Roderick,” I said quietly. “But, I have an errand to see to this evening that I have to plan for.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Enjoy,” the doorman said, flashing a friendly grin as I headed through the doors. A dark room gently accentuated with a soft pink bulb illuminated the hallway. I’d never felt more alone and vulnerable in my life, but the employee I’d shared several emails with earlier in the afternoon assured me Subspace, the downtown club for fetish and kink play, was a friendly, and appropriate, space for newbies and interested parties to explore. After reading the club rules -- and learning play was not mandatory -- I decided it would be the perfect place for me to do as Dr. T had suggested, step outside of my comfort zone and explore the fetish scene. The dress code was strict. To my chagrin, cotton and denim were not allowed, but, luckily, I’d found a short, black, velvet witch costume I had stored away from several Halloweens back. A pair of scissors, a needle and some thread allowed me to do a bit of alteration to get it looking like something of the fetish sort. A pair of tall, black heels added for emphasis and I looked as much the part as I was going to get on short notice.

The entranceway led to a long hallway, which I walked trepidaciously. I’d left my jacket in the car and felt myself shivering as I made my way down the long hall. I knew my chills were, mostly, fear. At the end of the hallway, a right turn presented a large dance floor and bar area, illuminated with neon pink and blue. A sea of dancers moved seductively to the sound of soft house music while others chatted, excitedly, at the bar. Overhead, billowy ivory fabric draped and dipped from the ceiling.

A turn to the left – the one I chose to take -- led me to a large sitting area, where guests – most of them tall, burly men in leather gear and women in latex, rubber and corsets of all colors -- sat talking politely amongst one another. Sipping from cocktail glasses and bottled waters, the group seemed cordial and friendly, as if they’d known each other for years. A long-haired, red-headed woman laughed enthusiastically, tossing back her head and exposing her thin neck. Her mouth parted as she laughed, her bright, red painted lips glimmering beneath the seductive light.

A tall, wavy-haired gentleman turned to watch me as I passed, lifting his head quizzically, his blunt and dimpled chin aiming at me. His eyes searched for my escort. His face communicated his recognition I had none. He was dressed in what appeared to be the regular uniform in this place: snug leather pants anchored by a thick, black, studded belt and a tight black-t-shirt, tucked neatly into his pants. A leather vest accentuated the outfit and highlighted his strong shoulders. His slightly younger companion, a petite Asian woman with a red, leather collar affixed to her slender neck stood just at his side, a chain snaking from a loop on her collar to his right hand.

“Hello,” he said politely.

I turned to face him as I passed. “Hello,” I replied.

I glanced at his companion’s costume, a bright red, skin-tight, latex dress with diamond-shaped cleavage cut-out. I could see her pierced nipples through the garment. It hugged her tightly, showcasing her perfect, petite frame.

She stood straight and tall in a pair of six-inch, red, heels that, surely, would lead me to crash and fall on my face were I to attempt to pull such things off. Her long, raven hair, parted down the center and pulled, elegantly, across her right shoulder. She smiled pleasantly.

“Say hello, Sirella,” he instructed her.

“Hello,” she said sweetly.

I lifted my hand wiggled my fingers in a shy wave.

“My name’s Lark,” he said, extending his hand.

“Alex,” I said, accepting.

“Are you new, Alex?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m just doing some exploring based on a suggestion. Research, I suppose you could call it.”

“I see,” Lark said. “Would you like escorts? I know how daunting it can all be at first. Sirella and I would welcome the chance to show you around and, just, be there if you have any questions. We know every nook and cranny of this place.”

“I’d like that very much, yes,” I replied, nodding in appreciation.

The couple, as well as everyone surrounding us, seemed incredibly relaxed. It was contagious. Nervous when I entered, I found the tension I’d held ever since I’d made the decision to follow Dr. T’s orders slowly dissolving. This isn’t so bad, I thought to myself.

“Great. Come this way,” Lark said, his grey eyes lighting with enthusiasm.

Sirella took a step back, allowing room for Lark to make his way forward, chain held, firmly, in hand. Turning back to face Sirella, he handed her an empty bottled water he’d held casually in his hands. Without a beat, she lifted her hands and accepted it, cradling it firmly between her small hands. Releasing one hand, she placed her palm outward in front of him, face up. Delicately, he placed the chain in the center of her palm. Fanning her fingers closed, she licked it inside her fist. Turning, she glided across the room, making her way to a small station along the south wall. Midway between the ceiling and the floor was a row of black dispensers. I squinted, doing my best to see what they were. Finely-printed labels read “Condoms”, “Lollipops”, and “Wetnaps”. Just above, a neon sign instructed guests to “Take One! Take Three! Take as many as You Need!”

Fascinating, I thought. Just below were was a row of recycle and compost bins. Sirella dropped the empty bottle into the appropriate bin, spun on her thin heel and walked back to rejoin us, her hips swaying seductively with each step. I turned my face toward Lark, watching as he gazed upon her with a look of pride. Outstretching his hand, he opened his palm, Handing her Master her chained leash, she nodded in completion of her task. He smiled, praising her silently.

“There are thirteen rooms in Subspace,” Lark said. “Each room has a particular theme. I’m sure you know single men and single women are only allowed in seven of rooms, the rest being reserved for couples.”

He stopped, turning quickly, and eyeing me quizzically. “Are you a Domme or a sub?”

I shrugged, shaking my head in confusion. “Oh, I’m not really anything at all. I mean, I suppose… I guess… I really…”

Lark laughed. “I put you on the spot. Research. I remember, research…”

He turned to march ahead, continuing his tour. “It’s a good thing we saw you when we did, then. Subspace is a friendly place, yes, and most newbies visit to explore and…,” he cleared his throat, “…research, but there are wolves in this forest. Some hungry Dom or Dominatrix would have found you quite quickly and pounced.”

Leading me and his submissive to a descending stairwell, he guided us down. It was shadowy, lit mainly by several small iridescent bulbs along the ceiling. My eyes quickly adjusted and, as I glanced feet ahead of me, I caught glimpses of figures in the distance, talking, mingling, and pulling leashed and chained submissives room-to-room. I was so enthralled with the people, I nearly missed a step, grasping the side of the wall to keep my balance. Twisting her body backward toward me, Sirella extended her hand to me. Sliding my fingers into her palm, I allowed the exotic beauty to steady and guide me.

“You’ll be able to enter restricted areas with us,” Sirella whispered to me, squeezing my hand lightly in an effort to reassure me.

My eyes widened as we passed a number of play rooms, some big, some small, each with a doorless entrance giving a view of inside play. I peeked, but didn’t see much. I was surprised rooms were as empty as they were. People mulled about, but what I imagined to be occurring within wasn’t occurring.

Lark led us to the farthest end of the hallway, where we were met with a double, frosted, glass door. Placing his hand on the long, vertical, metal handles, he pulled them open with massive strength. They swung wide, revealing a white wonderland, easily two thousand or so feet wide. Modern, platform beds with white frames draped in crisp white sheets, fluffy white carpet, and white embossed mirrors decorated the space. Large, antique chairs, upholstered in rustic white damask sat neatly in each corner. Stepping in, the cool air tickled the skin on my arms. A number of people sat on beds, talking or stood wandering about with their partners, each stark naked.

“This, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, is the White Room. In the White Room, we are pure. Naked, as nature intended.”

My eyes locked up on a burly, muscular, bearded man to my left; his erection stood tall and strong as he caressed the cheek of a buxom brunette that stood, demurely, before him.

Lark concentrated on my face. I could feel him staring from my peripheral. “There’s more,” he said, extending his arm and motioning for me to follow him. Sirella followed him dutifully, squeezing my hand gently and communicating for me to follow.

Leaving the white room, Lark turned us back from where we came, making an unexpected left turn into another hallway. Ten feet in, a small, red-painted room sit to the right. Walk-in closet-sized, a massive collection of toys and props lined the walls. I scanned the rows of instruments along shelves and hooked to the walls, making note of those I recognized and those I didn’t.

“Fully stocked, as you can see,” Lark said. “See anything that interests you?”

I laughed. “I don’t even know what half of it is.”

The couple chuckled, amused by my naivety. In the distance I heard a loud moan and, out of pure instinct, I turned my head and leaned my body out the doorway to see where the noise emerged from.

Lark noted my curiosity and motioned for me to follow as he led me further down the hallway. The sound of spanking sparked my curiosity and I a flutter of excitement as we reached yet another double door. Pulling it open, Lark led us into a dark room; the walls painted black and the room illuminated by lamps illuminated with red bulbs. The room was filled with tables and stools. In the corner, a waist-high cage sat opened.

“This is the main play area,” Lark said. “It’s fairly early, so people are still hanging out upstairs in the sitting area and bar. In about an hour or two, though, this room will be filled.”

“I can imagine,” I said.

My eyes drifted to the corner, where a man, naked and kneeling before a woman in a striking red and black kimono sitting tall and regal in long-backed chair with arm rests. His head bobbed up and down and left to right. He was seeing to her pleasure, eagerly lapping away between her thighs.

The woman, a beautiful Domme with milky skin and a severely-tight, black bun pulled high atop her head, looked down upon him observantly. Her eyebrows raised as his head twisted left to right, up and down, her body shuddering gently when he’d found the spot that brought forth her response. His hands bound behind his back with a red rope that matched her kimono, she held his head in her hands like a puppet, guiding his motion. Several feet away, a group of men eased closer to watch. One, wearing revealing leather chaps, stood hard and erect as he took in their passionate play.

Sirella released my hand and placed her palm at the small of my back.

“Come,” Sirella said as the trio furthered their tour. “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

“Oh…. Um, no,” I replied. “I don’t.”

“Have you ever tried kink before?” she asked, speaking more now than she had in the past half hour.

“No. I’m really only here because a friend said it would be good for me. I’ve been curious about the scene for some time, but I’ve never…. You know.”

Sirella smiled. “I understand. Vanilla.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

Lark chuckled. “What Sirella means to say is you aren’t a part of the kink world. Those who have, what some would call a, quote, normal, sex life, are what we call vanilla.”

“Oh, yes,” I said with an embarrassing laugh. “I suppose I am what you would call vanilla. But, I have learned, through my friend, that there really is no normal or not normal when it comes to sex. What’s normal to some isn’t normal to everyone, but it’s not fair to judge people’s sexuality in those terms.”

“You have a very smart friend,” Lark said. “This is normal to us. What you vanilla people do… that’s not normal,” he laughed. “I kid, but it seems you’re being guided by a friend who understands and can lead you in the right direction.”

The tips of my mouth turned upward. “Indeed I am,” I agreed.

Lark and Sirella led me next to a small, private play room off the main hallway where a buxom, mature submissive stood locked within a spreader bar in the center of the room. Just behind her, angled slightly to her right, a young, tall, virile man stood at the ready with flogger in hand. The flesh of her buttocks was reddened and, just behind her, a paddle lay discarded. She had already been prepared and was, now, sufficiently warmed and ready for her public flogging.

Sirella snaked her hand through my arm again, sliding her fingertips between mine. I happily accepted her friendly touch; it soothed me in inexplicable ways. With bated breath and wide eyes, I watched the submissive take her first lashes and felt a stir deep inside me as she moaned in ecstasy and, softly, begged for more.