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Authors: M. S. Force

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BOOK: Rapturous
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I’m not sure how to feel about what I’m seeing. Part of me is mortified to be witnessing this. But the other
part is fascinated and aroused, if the sharp ache between my legs is any indication. The doctor and nurse torture the woman on the table with devices I never would’ve thought could be sexy, including a speculum that they use to open her vagina. She moans and thrashes and seems to be coming constantly as they “examine” every inch of her. I can’t believe that watching this actually turns me on, but
it does.

“Let’s see what else is happening,” Devon says after we’ve watched for about fifteen minutes. He leads us from that room into another one where we see a woman bound from head to toe in an elaborate maze of ropes. The only parts of her not covered by the ropes are her breasts and genitals. She’s suspended from the ceiling, and her lover is whipping her breasts with something that makes
her moan with pleasure.

“What’s that he’s using?” I ask, my voice huskier than usual.

“It’s a flogger,” Devon says.
 

“Does it hurt?”

Again he defers to Tenley. I can’t believe she’s done all this stuff. Girl’s been keeping some big secrets. “It stings, but it doesn’t actually hurt.”
 

I have a hard time understanding how it wouldn’t hurt to be repeatedly struck by something with a dozen or
more leather tips, but I take her word for it.
 

“The most important thing to know is that everything you see happening has been negotiated in advance between the Dom and sub. We don’t believe in surprises during a scene, and the sub can put a stop to it at any time with one word that’s also negotiated in advance.”

“What’s yours?” I ask Tenley.

“Style,” she says with a big smile.

“Why am I
not surprised?” I ask with a laugh.
 

“Tenley told me I can speak freely with you,” Devon says, “so I’ll tell you that she was about where you are when we first met at a party. She’d never heard of most of what goes on here, let alone tried it. She didn’t get to where she is now overnight. It’s a process, often undertaken by two people who have a common interest in the lifestyle as well as each
other.”

“So Doms and subs are always in relationships?”

“Not in the traditional sense of the word,” Devon says. “In some cases, the only time a Dom and sub see each other is here or at another club where they might share a scene. Others live in full-time Dom/sub or Master/slave relationships.”

“Master/slave? Seriously?”

“Everyone is different, and this lifestyle caters to what makes us unique.
What wouldn’t work for you works beautifully for someone else.”

As I wonder if Hayden is into the Master/slave thing, I return my attention to the couple in the next room and watch as he manipulates her suspended body so her legs are wrapped around his hips. Her mouth falls open when he enters her, and I watch, transfixed, as a blissful expression occupies her face.
 

“See that?” Devon says softly.
“That’s called subspace. She’s been transported out of the here and now, and the pleasure is all there is. A lot of the subs I know are strong, competent people who love to be taken away from it all for a little while, knowing they’ll be well cared for if they let themselves go.”

As a woman who constantly keeps a thousand balls in the air, the thought of being able to let it all go for a while
certainly has its appeal. “So that can work? A woman who isn’t submissive in her real life can submit here?”

“I see it all the time,” Devon says. “We have women—and men—from all walks of life who come here looking to experience something new and different. Our club’s membership includes actors and actresses whose names you’d recognize, thus the confidentiality agreement you signed upon entering
the club. We take privacy and security very seriously here. Any club that doesn’t is one to be avoided.”

Since I’m not planning to take a grand tour of LA-area sex clubs, I’m comforted by this club’s high standards.
 

“I’m surprised to learn that men can be submissive, too.”

“Absolutely,” Devon says. “Nothing is unheard of here. You’re as likely to see a female dominatrix here as you are to
see a male Dom.” After we watch the couple in the next room for a while longer, he says, “Let’s move along, shall we?”

I take a last look over my shoulder to see the couple in the next room still fully engaged in coitus. The man has stamina to spare, like someone else I know. I try to picture Hayden in this setting and can’t help but wonder what his preferences are. Is he into floggers or whips?
Ropes or toys? Or maybe he likes it all. I shiver as I imagine experiencing such things with him. I want to experience everything with him, and after seeing what’s possible, that includes exploring this world.
 

In the next room, we see a man shackled to a large X.

“You mentioned being interested in the concept of a man as a submissive.” Devon says. “That’s what is known as a St. Andrew’s cross.”

I remember seeing them online. “Why is he alone?”

“His Domme is keeping him waiting. She’s building the anticipation, which is one of many tools in the dominant’s war chest. I thought you might like to see an example of female domination.”
 

Another five minutes go by, during which my anxiety spikes right along with the man strapped to the cross, before a door on the other side of the room opens.
In walks a blond woman wearing platform heels and a leather outfit that accentuates her generous curves. The man on the cross begins to tremble at the sight of her, and I watch in stunned amazement as his cock hardens.
 

Devon presses a button on the wall that allows us to hear what they’re saying.

“That’s very unfortunate,” she says, glancing at his cock with utter disdain. “It’ll make getting
this ring on very painful.”

“No, Mistress, please. Please don’t hurt me.”

“You did this to yourself, so save the begging for someone who cares.”

“She won’t really hurt him, will she?” I ask, horrified for him.

“Just watch,” Devon says as Tenley’s arm encircles my waist.
 

I wonder why she feels the need to offer comfort, but soon I see why as the mistress works the tight rubber cock ring down
the length of his cock. He screams and begins to cry. I don’t know what to do. Surely Devon will put a stop to this before it goes any further.
 

But he doesn’t make any move to leave the room. Rather, he remains still as the man in the other room sobs.

“There, now,” the mistress says in a more soothing tone once the ring is secured at the base of his scrotum. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.
That deserves a reward. How would you like to be rewarded?”

“I’ll let my mistress decide.”

She pets his face and wipes the snot from under his nose with a tissue, tending to him as if he were a baby. Dropping to her knees before him, she takes his grotesquely hard cock into her mouth and begins to suck him off. Judging by the tight expression on his face, he’s experiencing more pain than pleasure.
Tears begin to slide down his cheeks once again as she sucks him to orgasm. His shouts are so loud they almost hurt my ears.

She stands and reaches for something on a nearby table.

He sees what’s in her hand and recoils as much as he’s able to, tied as he is to the cross. “No, Mistress. Anything but that.”

“What is it?” I ask in a whisper. My voice has abandoned me. My heart is beating so fast
I’m afraid it’ll explode, and beads of sweat roll down my back.
 

“It’s a crop,” Devon says.
 

“Like the ones used on horses?”

“Similar.”

“What’s she going to…” The words die on my lips as the crop connects with his balls. His screams are agonizing to listen to. “Oh. Oh
God
.” The room closes in on me.

Accompanied by the shrieks from the man on the cross, Devon takes me by the arm. “Let’s get
her some air.”

They hustle me out of there and help me into an upholstered chair in the hallway.
 

“Take some breaths,” Devon says. “Deep breaths.”

I’m embarrassed and horrified and unbelievably aroused. More than anything, I’m confused as to how I can feel all those emotions at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Devon encourages Tenley to take the chair next to mine while he squats
in front of us. “It’s a very common reaction among newbies.”

“You… you didn’t put a stop to it.”

“No, only he can, and he knows exactly how to stop it if and when it becomes too much for him. He and his scene partner have worked out the details in advance, including a safe word that would immediately put an end to all activity.”

“He was screaming in pain.”

“He gets off on the pain.”

I shudder,
recalling the man’s apparent agony.

“Everyone is different, Addie,” Tenley says. “The lifestyle celebrates those differences.”

“That’s right,” Devon adds. “We encourage participants to be true to themselves and to fully articulate their needs and desires so their partner can give them what they want. Communication between partners is absolutely critical.”

“So he
wants
her to take a riding crop
to his balls?”

“Yes,” Devon says bluntly.
 

“I don’t get that, but I guess I don’t have to.”

Devon smiles. “No, you don’t. The important thing to know is not everything will appeal to you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the sense you might’ve been aroused by some of what you saw?”

“Definitely.”

“Then you should focus on the aspects that interest you and forget about the parts that don’t.”

“It’s really that simple?”

“It is. The last thing I or any good Dom wants is a sub who rolls over and plays dead. I want an active, willing submissive who participates fully before, during and after our scene. No one is looking for a doormat to abuse, at least not any Dom I know.”

I’m incredibly comforted by Devon’s insight.

“Do you have other questions?”

“Could I maybe run a scenario by you
to get your take on it?”

“Of course. Let’s go up to my place and have a drink.” Devon extends a hand to help me up and then does the same for Tenley before leading us to an elevator tucked discreetly into a nook.

“This house is incredible,” I say.

“It’s got an amazing pedigree.” As we enter the elevator, Devon names the Hollywood glitterati who’ve called it home over the last five decades.
The elevator deposits us into a penthouse that overlooks the city below.
 

I gravitate immediately to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look down over his property. “Wow, this is beautiful.” A pool is lit up from within, casting a warm glow over the tiled deck and lush landscaping that surround it.
 

“I like it,” Devon says with the understatement that I’ve come to expect from him after a couple
of hours in his presence. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Is a gin and tonic doable?”

“Absolutely. Coming right up. Tenley?”

“I’ll have the same, please.”

We settle with our drinks in a sitting area near the windows. Tenley sits right next to Devon, and he slips an arm around her. They make a gorgeous couple, and I wonder if he’s as serious about her as she seems to be about him.
 

“I’m happy
to answer any questions you have,” he says. “One thing you’ll quickly learn is people in the lifestyle love to talk about it.”

“They really do,” Tenley says with a laugh. “It took me a while to get used to the dinner party conversations in Devon’s world.”

The look that passes between them demonstrates a deep level of intimacy that makes me envious. I want that. I want it so badly, and I want
it with Hayden. The thought that we could have what they have is so tantalizing and yet so out of reach at the same time.

“I have a friend,” I begin haltingly, still hesitant to say too much out of fear of violating Hayden’s privacy. “We have an emotional connection, I guess you could say, that’s recently turned physical. Today I found out he’s part of the lifestyle, and when I asked if he would
share it with me, he refused. He said I’m no one’s submissive. At the same time, he indicated how important the lifestyle is to him. So here I am, crazy about a guy who wants things he thinks I can’t give him.”

“That’s a dilemma for sure,” Devon says. “Did he say why he thinks you couldn’t be what he needs?”

“I’m guessing it’s because he’s never practiced with someone he loves, and he’s afraid
of hurting me or scaring me off.”

“It’s a totally different experience when you’re in love with your partner,” Devon says. “I get where he’s coming from.”

“So how do I convince him to let me try? As soon as I told him I was going elsewhere to learn about the lifestyle, he flipped out and said he’d train me himself. I told him I don’t want him agreeing to it only because he doesn’t want anyone
else to touch me.”

“The poor guy,” Devon says with a low chuckle. “I feel for him.”

BOOK: Rapturous
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