The Pleasure Room (6 page)

Taking Rob's advice, Felicity planted herself on a stool and opened the envelope. The first thing she saw was her temporary membership card. It was an elegant, yet simple design. Had the words “Temporary Member” on the front in gold lettering and on the back, her name: Felicity Davenport. There was a black scan bar and a shaded box with a white question mark for a photo which was “optional” according to the words in parentheses under the box. She looked at the paper labeled “Guidelines” and “Non-negotiable Terms”.

The first one was to respect the sanctity of the club and all it patrons.
Okay, that should be easy enough
, she thought. Then reflected on her behavior the night before. Her initial shock and disgust...
was it really disgust
? She shook her head as if trying to clear her mind.

The second list of guidelines was just proper Dom or Domme etiquette. No alcohol inside the Dungeon. No abusing the subs. That particular section had subsections of its own, such as not letting a sub crash after a “scene”. Something along the lines of “subdrop”
whatever the hell that meant.
She would have to look it up.  She continue to read over the paper, thinking it seemed to take itself more seriously than it needed to. But she decided to reserve her opinion. Her eyes widened when she got to the part about club requirements under the “Terms” section. Apparently she was expected to have a STD test to prove that she was clean before she could partake in any of the scenes. She thought back to Gregory's comment about how surprised she'd be to find out just how hygienic the club really was.

“So, I guess he was right about that. Still, ewww,” she mused as she remembered all of the fluid that was flowing, squirting and shooting that night.

She continued to read and realized that her temporary membership was only good for two weeks. She didn't know if that was going to be enough time. If she couldn't get the proof she needed, she was going to have to look into getting a real membership and lord knows it was probably something she couldn't afford. She read further. Yep, she really couldn't afford it. Right after the temporary stipulations came the price of membership for both Dominants and submissives. Yeah, it was way out of her price range.
Can't this place just charge like
Netflix
?
She thought to herself.
 

After reading through everything, there was a section designated for her signature confirmation. She signed and dated it then waved the bartender over. “So who do I give this to?”

“You can give it to me, I'll make sure the boss gets it,” the bartender said.

“Okay.” Felicity handed him her consent form, finished her 'shot of courage' also known as a Mojito and rose from the bar stool.

“Have fun,” the bartender said, low enough for only her ears.

“Um, thanks,” she said. Without further ado, she walked towards the back to the black door Gregory led her to before marked “Employees only”. She took her membership card and ran it through the card slot and the red light turned green and the door unlocked. She opened it and began making her trek up the two small flights of stairs. Once she reached the top, she parted the red velvet curtains, not sure what she was going to see this time around. She tried hard not to stand in the doorway like a deer caught in a set of headlights, but once again, her feet failed her. This time she didn't have Gregory to guide her and she felt like she was teetering on the edge of a panic attack. Two scenes were going on at the same time. Hanging from a leather swing contraption was a beautiful and very naked blonde woman. Both her legs were spread wide, ankles bound by the straps on the swing. Her wrist were handcuffed to the other end of the swing and she lay helpless, exposed for all to see, while her female Domme spanked her breast teasingly with a leather crop. The other scene was another spanking. A muscular man, almost the size of the bouncer who'd let her in, was bound to that cross-shaped contraption and his female mistress was tearing into him with a leather whip. Each contact to his skin left red welts that the crowd appeared to approve of.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” a deep, caramel-smooth, British voice asked her from behind causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.
So much for playing it cool.
 

Felicity turned around, ready to curse out whoever it was violating her personal space. But when her eyes trailed up his tall, powerfully built frame and locked on the jade-green gaze of the man before her, she lost her voice. His full, luscious lips parted in a killer smile that would make Don Juan envious. His jaw was strong and defined and made her want to run her fingers along the smooth lines. Everything about this man was sheer perfection. Never in her life had she seen a man so beautiful with such a presence, that it engulfed her. It frightened her and excited her. She immediately felt her nipples harden and the little things were betraying her through her bra and blouse. His eyes didn't miss the show, either. They glided down her body, taking in her appearance from head to toe, lingering only but a second at her breasts. Long enough for his lip to quirk up at the corner ever so slightly.

“W-what did you say?” was the only words Felicity could form at the moment.  
He ought to be grateful for that... or was it the other way around?
she wondered.

“I said they're beautiful, aren't they?” he repeated. That same sensuous, crisp accent slicing through her mental barrier like a hot knife through butter.

“I—I don't know what you mean,” Felicity manage to reply.

She couldn't take her eyes off of his body, though tastefully clothed in a black buttoned-up shirt, with charcoal-gray flat-front pants and blazer. It wasn't just the outfit that kept her captivated. It was how he wore it. It must have been tailored for him because it seemed to fit him like a glove. Again, she looked up at him and wondered just how tall he was. At five-seven, she wasn't considered short, but he stood at least seven inches taller than her.

He smiled again and very gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “Just relax,” he said as he turned her back around to face the room. Slowly, he led her with a gentle push further into the room so that she was no longer blocking the doorway. He slid his hands down the length of her arms, taking her hands into his and crossing them over her chest as he held her close to him. She closed her eyes as she felt his powerful chest against her back, breathing in time with her as if they were becoming one.

“Ah, ah, ah... don't close your eyes,” he whispered into her ear, his lips delicately brushed against her flesh making her shiver with titillation.

Felicity opened her eyes, not even realizing she had closed them. She stared forward, watching the two scenes grow more intense. Now the woman trapped in the swing was lost in complete rapture as her mistress slapped the swollen folds of her pussy with the crop. After a few slaps, she rub the sensitive, inflamed flesh with her fingers as if soothing the sting. The woman in the swing struggled to squirm and it was obvious that she was attempting to press herself closer to her mistress' fingers. Immediately, the mistress pulled her hand away and the whipping continued.

“Disobedience will not be tolerated. That is the lesson there,” Alistair whispered into Felicity's ear sending tingles down her spine so intense, she quaked again. He chuckled deeply in his chest, and she could feel the vibrations through her back.

“How is she being disobedient? It isn't like she can do anything?” Felicity asked. She wanted to wrap herself in the scent of this beautiful man who was holding her close. His cologne was intoxicating.. or maybe it was just him? She could no longer tell the difference.

“She is to remain still, not to seek pleasure yet to be granted. In pressing the matter, she's forced the hand of her mistress to punish her,” Alistair explained.

The ecstatic moans of the man bound to the cross drew Felicity's attention away from the two women. The man's head was back, lids half parted showing the whites of his eyes. His mouth was agape and his face was serene as if he was in a lovely place that no one there could see.

“That is what you call magnificent,” Alistair purred.

Felicity's eyes fluttered, but she managed to keep them open. Just the sound of his voice in her ear was making her lose control of her senses. She had to fight hard to keep herself grounded. She stared intently at the mistress as she continued to spank her male sub, until he quaked, his orgasm jetting across the leather of the contraption he was bound to. Creamy, white rivulets staining the black leather. The mistress ceased the spanking and rubbed his back in soft, gentle circles. She kissed him and whispered things no one could hear into his ear and he nodded slowly. She untied him and he fell to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She held him so lovingly, as if he was her greatest treasure.

“I don't get that,” Felicity admitted without meaning to.

What was it about this man that made her lose all reason?
She didn't even know his name and already she wanted him to sweep her into his arms and … and what? Spank her? She decided to end the fantasy right there. Gathering whatever sense of self she had left, she pulled her arms down. He didn't put up any resistance. Alistair let her pull away from him.
 

“What is it that leaves you so confused?” he asked her.

“What just happened for one? He looked like he wasn't even aware he was being watched by everyone in the room,” Felicity said. “Also, who are you? I mean, do you always get so familiar with people you don't know?”

Alistair smiled again, flashing even rows of pearly whites so bright, as far as she was concerned, he could star in every toothpaste commercial ever made.

“He wasn't here. He was someplace more exquisite than you would understand. Not unless you go where he's been.”

Felicity scoffed, unable to help herself. “What the hell is
that
supposed to mean?”
 

Alistair cocked his head sideways. “You're very new to my club. You wouldn't happen to be Felicity would you?”

She stepped back, shocked at his brashness.

“I take it you are. Please,” he gestured to one of the leather benches.

Felicity gave him a sideways glance.

“I don't bite... unless you want me to,” Alistair said, then he leaned forward. “And you would... want me to.”

Felicity flushed and she knew the blush she applied earlier wasn't going to hide the redness in her face right now. Quickly she turned, heading towards the bench, thankful it was in a dimly lit section of the club. Alistair followed her, taking a seat right beside her, crossing one elegantly long leg over the other as if he owned the place.
Wait a minute, he did, didn't he?
He did refer to this place as “my club”. He put one well muscled arm around the back of the bench, careful not to touch Felicity's shoulders, but keeping her close enough that they could feel the heat emanating from each others' bodies.
 

“All right, you know my name, what's yours?” Felicity asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Alistair.”

“That's it? One name?”

“You haven't quite earned the privilege of knowing my last. But that's not to say you won't.”

Felicity snorted. “Wow, you're awfully confident, aren't you?”

“Of course. As are you.”

“You know that much about me, do you? Just from our little exchange over there?” Felicity gestured towards the red velvet entryway.

“I can read a person pretty well.”

“Wow, the surprises keep coming. Can you pull a rabbit out of your hat, too?”

Alistair laughed. The sound filled her ears and certain parts of her body wanted her to shut up and let him take over. She fought to stay in control of her libido and, after several deep breaths she hoped he didn't notice her inner struggle. In an attempt to redirect that piercing jade-green gaze in another direction, she decided to ask him to explain the scene that had just happened.

Her plan didn't work. His hypnotic stare remained locked on her as he replied.

“I could explain it to you, but you'd never fully grasp the meaning of my words until you've experienced it for yourself.” Alistair smiled.

Felicity had to look away, she had to keep her wits about herself.

“Um, I doubt that. Besides, that sounds like the same line a drug addict would say to convince me to get high with them.”

“In a way, it is a form of euphoria. A natural high, if you will. It's that moment when he could let go, trust in his mistress to take care of him. To take him to his zenith and safely bring him back. Some call it subspace. When you're in it, you're no longer aware of your surroundings and depending on the intensity, even yourself. It's very gratifying for both Dominant and submissive to reach that point,” Alistair said, then he beckoned for a waiter to come over to them.

The man, clad in black pants and bow-tie approached them.  “What may I get you?” he asked pleasantly.

“I'll take a ginger ale,” Alistair said, then he looked at Felicity. “Would you care for a drink?”

Felicity had to find her voice... again. Her mind was still mulling over what he had told her and the reverence in which he spoke about it as if it were some sacred act. Try as she may to deny it, she was intrigued.

“Oh, um, I'll take a mojito,” she said.

“I'm sorry ma'am, we don't serve alcohol in the Dungeon,” the waiter informed. “We can make you a virgin mojito.”