The Pleasure Room (2 page)

Alistair sat comfortably on his plush suede sofa flipping through the pages of his adult toys magazine. Whips, ropes, swings, an assortment of colorful furry handcuffs, leather bondage clothing, etc. He flipped past one page after the other, searching for something he didn't already own. His collection was vast and each toy had been used to bring that particular submissive to the highest point of ecstasy. Unimpressed with that store's offerings, he sighed and tossed the magazine catalog aside. Rising from the sofa, he walked over to his bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. As he sipped his drink, his cell phone began ringing inside his pocket followed by a frenzied vibration. He pulled it out, checked the caller ID and answered.

“Mr. Pennyworth (aka the infamous and controversial mayor of Chicago, Dwight Goldberg), what can I do for you this afternoon... or will it be this evening?” Alistair asked in his deep, smooth-as-honey, British accent.

“I trust that arrangements have been made for tonight?”

“As always when I know you'll be visiting the club. Your private room has already been prepared for you. Come before the club is officially open as usual. As you know, my clients' privacy is of my utmost concern. Discretion is held in high regard,” Alistair routinely assured the extremely paranoid, but well patronizing Mr. Goldberg.

“Good then. Mistress V has already been made aware of our date for tonight. Please make sure she doesn't have any issues getting in like the last time,” Dwight said.

“I do apologize for the confusion last week. Mark is new to my staff and was unfamiliar with the particular protocol for your visits. He knows now,” Alistair said.

“He doesn't know anything about me does he? Like who she was there to see?” Dwight asked in a serious tone.

“Of course not. I'm the only one who knows you frequent my club. All he's aware of is that she is a member, not who she was there to see,” Alistair assured.

“Wonderful. Now, about the furniture, were you able to get what I asked for?”

“Not only did I purchase the item you requested, but I took the liberty to add a few more furnishings that I believe you'll find to you liking, Mr. Pennyworth... delightfully so,” Alistair informed.

“Oh, no doubt. If you say I'll enjoy it, I'm sure I will,” Dwight tone was laced with lust and exhilaration.

“Tonight then.”

“I'll see you soon.” With that, Dwight ended the call.

“Humph.” Alistair slipped his cell back into his pocket and finished his drink. Picking up another catalog from his coffee table, he decided to see if they had anything new to offer. It was a relaxing way to spend a carefree day until it was time for him to open his club. He was flipping the pages, one after the other, when his eyes spotted a new exotic device. It sent his imagination soaring with all of the delightful and pleasurable things he could do to some lucky soul using that item. He marked it off and continued shopping, plenty more to see.

~*~

Felicity stood in front of her mirror, giving her outfit one last inspection. Countless hours in the gym blessed her with one hell of an ass, if she must say so herself. Everything looked to be in its rightful place. Black stockings accentuated her impressively long legs. The leather bustier put her modest bosom on display to her own surprise and, shamefully, delight. The leather, black mini skirt was way shorter than she was used to, but when one is going undercover to a sex club, you had to dress the part. The only thing she felt comfortable in was her four inch heeled, leather knee boots. They were her favorite pair. Her long brunette locks were now in spiral curls hanging loosely over her creamy shoulders and down her long, lean back. Her makeup, though lightly applied, highlighted her key features: High cheekbones, full, shapely lips and mesmerizing gray eyes.

“Okay Felicity, it's now or never,” she said to herself in the mirror. “I suppose you look good enough to make it through the front door. Here's hoping.” She crossed her fingers in a silent prayer and then pulled her coat from the hall closet. Snatching up her purse and keys, she left the apartment.

After driving for an hour and getting lost, she finally beat out a guy behind the wheel of an SUV for a parking spot close to the club. Walking briskly, she met up with her undercover partner, Gregory Manners.

“I'm so, so sorry I'm late. I got completely turned around. I'm not used to this area of the city,” Felicity said by way of an apology.

Gregory offered her a pleasant smile, which quickly turned lecherous as his eyes trailed over her trench coat covered body, taking in her curves all the way to her boots. It was as if he was imagining what she'd look like sans coat... or even clothes. Felicity fought the frown that she wanted to give him. That and the middle finger. Not that he wasn't a good-looking guy, he was, but come on!

He whistled. “It's quite all right, Ms. Summers... I haven't been waiting long.”

“Thank you. Are you sure this isn't going to be a problem?” she asked.

“Nonsense. We're allowed to bring one guest with us at least twice a month.” He leaned in closer to her. “After that, they have to purchase their own membership.” With a wink he raised his arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” She had to admit, the wealthy business owner was handsome in an all-American sort of way. Which made it all the more unnerving that someone who looked so wholesome was a member of a private sex club. She suspected at some point through the night, he would engage in his normal activity. Then again, knowing the reason why she was there and with him, he might decide to behave himself on this particular night.

She took a good look at the exterior of the club. Large enough, from what she could tell. Simple red brick building and design. Her eyes scanned over the low dimmed blue neon sign in elegant script: “A Porterhouse Elm”. She thought the name was odd and couldn't help her curiosity on the matter. She looked at her companion.

“Do you have to pay for the food even though you have to pay for membership to even eat here? I wonder how he's able to use this restaurant as cover for the club? What's with the name?” she asked as they walked closer.

“My, you are inquisitive, aren't you?”

Felicity shrugged. “It's in my nature.”

“Hmmmm, that just makes me wonder what else is in your nature.” Gregory gave her a sly smile, but left it at that.

Felicity felt the blood rush to her cheeks. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear her companion was hitting on her right before they were going to enter a sex club. Mentally she went over the items in her purse. Mace? Check. Metal nail file with a sharp point? Check.  If all else failed, she had a pretty nice right hook and a decent sized cubic zirconia ring on her finger guaranteed to leave a dint in some unlucky guy's jaw if he dared step out of line with her.

“Don't be so nervous,” Gregory said as he felt Felicity's arm tense against his.

“I'm not,” she lied.

“Yeah, you are. Your arm is tightening around mine like a vice. Calm down. It's going to be an experience, but it's going to be all right,” Gregory said.

Felicity sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly along with a lot of the tension she didn't know she had.

“That's better.” Gregory smiled. They stepped up to the mountain of a man guarding the door.

“I see you have yourself a lovely date for the evening, sir?” said the doorman.

“I do, don't I?” Gregory boasted.

Felicity started to toss him a look, but decided against it. She needed inside that club. The doorman chuckled and nodded, giving Felicity another appraising look before stepping aside. Once they were inside and not standing within an earshot of the other patrons, she confronted him.

“I want to make this perfectly clear, Mr Manners. I'm here for the story... not to be your plaything.”

“Just my eye candy, I know.  Or was it arm candy, I forget?” He gave her another devilishly wicked grin.

“Just remember hands off.”

“You're going to have to learn to relax in a place like this. I can still see the tension coming off you in waves. The people in this place are going to pick up on that, you know. Some of them love breaking in new...ah...
members
.”

“I just want to get this over with. I have it on good authority that the mayor will be making an appearance tonight. A couple of discrete photos is all I want then we can leave,” Felicity said before she turned and finally took a look at the restaurant itself.

It was beautiful. The lounge had lovely polished, redwood floors. White, plush seating was tastefully placed around the area for patrons waiting for tables. Elegant crystal chandeliers illuminated the entire establishment giving off an incandescent glow. She peeked past the host into the main dining room. The design in the lobby extended there as well; giving the restaurant a lovely symmetry. The atmosphere was one of decadence and relaxation. There were only red and white plush booths with coffee tables where patrons lounged as they ate. Handsome waiters were shirtless, clad in black bow-ties and slacks with dress shoes. The pretty waitresses wore short, black skirts, bow-ties, bustiers and two-inch heels.

“Whoa, this place is something else,” Felicity murmured, still in awe of the interior design.

“You're starting to see why I love it here,” Gregory said. “But can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure, what?”

“Can we at least make it upstairs? We look very questionable standing right here in the lounge not even asking for a table,” Gregory said.

“Yeah, of course, you lead the way.”

Gregory led her through the semi-crowded restaurant, down a corridor to a black door marked “Employees Only” which was protected by a card scanner, camera and no doubt, a silent alarm to ward off trespassers.

Gregory slid his membership card through the scanner. The red light turned green and the door unlocked. He opened it, revealing two short flights of stairs.

“Shall we?” he motioned toward the first staircase.

“Come here a lot, do you?” Felicity teased, as they climbed the second staircase.

“As often as I can,” Gregory replied. “One day, you may want to return to this place, you know when you're not trying to ruin a man's career.”

“I doubt that and it's not just me, myself and I on this mission, you know. You're my accomplice in this career-derailing scheme,” she reminded him.

That earned her another charming smile. “Guilty as charged. Come.”

He lead her towards an entryway adorned in thick red velvet curtains. Felicity's mouth went dry  the closer she got towards those curtains, knowing that once parted, she would never be the same. She'd be exposed to a world she knew nothing about. The erotic sounds emanating from that room left little doubt to what was really going on.

Gregory stood just outside, hand on the curtain. “Are you ready?”

Felicity swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. She nodded. “Yes.”

“All right.” He parted the curtains and led her through.

Felicity's feet froze in place as her eyes took in the scene before her.  “Oh, my God,” she gasped.

Men and women, some naked, some scantily clad, some fully dressed were all watching a scene take place. A lean, muscular man was bound face-down on a St. Andrews cross. His wrists and ankle were tied by leather cuffs to the four edges of the “X” shaped cross. Behind him stood a man, dressed in a full body, black leather, silver-studded harness complete with jockstrap. He was whipping the bound man with a leather flogger as a few of the other patrons looked on as if admiring the show. Some were engaged in their own carnal acts of pleasure, be it orally or otherwise. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, leather smacking flesh, moans, grunts, screams of ecstasy and a few mumbled conversations. It took Felicity completely by surprise. She had read a Wikipedia article about “The Scene” and even watched a video in preparation for her undercover job, but nothing could have prepared  her for what she was seeing.

Gregory reached over slipping his fingers under her chin, closing her agape mouth. He leaned over toward her ear. “We don't want anyone getting any ideas, now do we?” he said with a sly wink.

 Felicity could feel the blood rushing to her face and knew she must have been beet red by now. Gregory laughed and led her to an empty leather bench and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. He looked up at Felicity and patted the open space next to him.

“Sit down, get comfortable,” he offered.

Felicity took one look at the leather bench and frowned. She didn't want to imagine what else could be or
had
been on that bench and wasn't too keen on adding her leather-clad ass to the mix.

Gregory laughed outright as if reading her mind. “It's clean. Don't worry. You're sticking out like a sheep among a pack of wolves.”

That put something on her mind and she decided to join Gregory on the bench. Slowly and stiffly, she lowered herself onto the leather padding.
Ewwwww
, she thought and struggled to release the stress in her body as Gregory put his arm around her shoulder, in an attempt to put her at ease.

“Relax,” he whispered.

“I'm trying. This place can't be that hygienic,” she whispered back.