IcySeduction (9 page)

Christine wanted to say “So do you,” but for some reason,
she kept silent.

“And you feel just right in my arms.”

“And you’re very comfortable, like a well-worn recliner.”
She smiled and blinked her eyes rapidly as she looked up at him. She really did
feel that way about slowly swaying, body to body, but not with the rest of
their relationship. Nothing like a well-worn recliner!

“Hmm…as long as you don’t take that recliner for granted.”

“But do I want a recliner or a fancy sofa instead?”

“What you want,” his breath tickled her ear and his low
voice made her knees weaken, “is a bed.”

Oh yeah, once he’d said that, she’d started picturing him
naked against plump pillows waiting for her, but she didn’t want to encourage
him. “No, I think I feel like taking in the club scene tonight, so the only
thing I want is another shot of tequila!” She had to shout the last couple of
words as the bass came in on a new, much faster song. She took his hand and
guided him back to the bar area, all the time wishing they were really going
back to her house to spend a very long time in bed.

He suddenly stopped amid the flow of people, which made her
stop since his hand gripped hers. He pulled her close again, but this time to
talk to her without everyone around them hearing. “If you’re feeling adventurous,
what do you say to trying an alternative type of club?”

“My friends…” She gestured with her free hand.

“Honestly, I don’t want to spend the whole night making
small talk with people I don’t know.”

“You invited yourself, remember?” But she was intrigued that
there might be a different kind of club out there. She was also a bit turned-on,
but she didn’t want to admit that to Jake.

“I can smell your arousal.” He acted as if it was a fine
perfume.

“No you can’t. All I smell is alcohol and sweat and possibly
some pot.”

He sighed. “I have enhanced senses, but since you don’t
believe what I say I am, just imagine that I’m guessing. But I’ve guessed
right, haven’t I?”

She hated to admit it, but she needed to be honest with
herself as much as with Jake—she was aroused at the mere thought of a club with
whips, chains and handcuffs. Her imagination didn’t go any further than that.
She nodded. “What do I tell my friends?”

“That you have a headache. That’s a tried and true excuse
for women.” His expression had soured.

“Know that from experience, do you?”

Instead of answering, he looked away and tugged her back
into the flow toward the bar. She did use the headache excuse, but by the time
they were in the car, she wondered something else. “You’re not from here. How
do you know where one of these special clubs is?”

“I did a little research on your computer.”

“Great, so if I’m hacked, they’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“They’ll be too busy stealing your passwords and account
numbers to bother with your surfing history.” He started the car, which
reminded Christine that this was her car and she should be driving it. “Besides,
I used the ‘private’ search option.” He paused. “This place does have a dress
code.”

“What kind of dress code? I’m already in club clothes.”

“Think leather.”

“I don’t own any leather clothes.”

“That’s okay. This club actually has a fetish-wear store on
the first floor and the club itself is on the second. The store’s open until
midnight, so we’ve got time to browse.”

“Have you been to one of these stores before?”

“I’ve been to adult stores, usually ones with a lot of DVDs
and pink corsets. I’d like to see how this one differs.”

“Curiosity killed the cat…or possibly got his dick chopped
off.” She kept her voice deadpan, but when Jake glanced at her, she had a huge
grin on her face. Then she cleared her throat. “You know, I’m curious about
this stuff, but I may not like it.”

“If you feel uncomfortable at the club, we’ll leave. We
could try on the stuff at home, but we’d have to make sure the door is good and
locked so Dean doesn’t get an eyeful.”

“Yeah, I think it’s better to try this thing away from him,
but is he all right alone for so long?”

“He wanted to stay in my apartment alone for the whole week.”

“To which you obviously said no.”

“Damn right. I’ll call to check on him, okay?” He hit a
speed dial icon on his phone. When he hung up, he said, “I’d say he was
sleeping, but he could have a whole
Risky Business
thing going on…”

“I think he’s still a bit young for that.”

“I don’t know. He’s very enterprising.”

“I thought you said he was into art.”

Jake shrugged. “Never know.”

The store was in a part of town that Christine avoided
normally, a part not overseen by Disney and tourism, but there was parking in
the back and a well-lit entrance to the store, which was innocently called
Stockings and Stuff. There was a second entrance with spotlights trained on it.
The canvas awning over the door was red with a black mask and riding crop on
it. The door had the name of the club—Yes, Master—splashed like blood in
vampiric letters. Jake parked and glanced at Christine to see how she was
reacting to it. She was biting her lip nervously, but her eyes were wide and
lit up.

“Ready?” he asked.

“What if I only want to go in the store?”

“Christine, whatever you want. I’ll take you home now if you’d
rather.”

Slowly a smile took over her face. “No, I at least want to
look around.”

He had to kiss that smile. He took his time, moving his
tongue inside her mouth, cupping her head in his hand. Her eyes closed and she
started squirming in her seat. Jake pushed her gently away. “Let’s go in.”

The first thing Christine noticed in the store was a wall of
extremely high-heeled shoes. She immediately veered in that direction since she
loved shoes. Tons of leather clothing was displayed on the back wall—corsets,
nighties, dresses, leggings and booty shorts. Black wire shelves throughout the
store held the toys, everything from tame-looking vibrators to curled-up
leather whips. She shivered and walked closer to the shoes. These were safe and
somewhat funny to look at.

“Oh my, look at these.” She handed Jake a pair of pumps with
skeleton feet painted on them.

“Hmm, not my idea of sexy. What about the red ones?” He
handed her the pair that looked like Mary Janes on steroids—super-slick patent
leather and heels to the moon.

“You’ll spend the rest of the night holding me upright.” She
turned a pair of shoes over. “Some of these are really expensive.”

“Some of these I’d pay anything to see you in, like those
thigh-high boots.”

“Ooh, I really like this pair.” They were mostly black
velvet booties, with what would be considered in this place, a moderate heel,
though an inch or two higher than she ever wore normally. The upper part was
sheer with tiny buttons running up the top of the foot to the ankle.

Instantly a saleslady appeared. “What size would you like?”

Christine started a little, but Jake’s hand was warm on the
small of her back so she felt safe. “A seven, please.”

The lady smiled and looked at Jake. “You have her well
trained.”

As the lady marched away to get the shoes to try on,
Christine found herself scowling. “I am not a trained dog or something.”

Jake chuckled and the sound was so goddamn sexy that her
nipples perked up.

She tapped her lip. “You know, it’s not just me who needs
some leather to wear. There seems to be a men’s section over there in the
corner.”

“I want to see you in those shoes first.”

When the saleslady returned, she opened the box and told
Christine to sit so she could fit the shoes on her. They fit like Cinderella’s
glass slippers…if Cindy had been into fetish-wear. Christine managed to stand
on her own but was a bit wobbly when she tried to walk. Jake balanced her by
holding on to her waist until she got the hang of them. Christine stepped in
front of the small, angled shoe mirror and twisted her ankle to get different
views of the shoes. “Damn, these are hot,” she whispered in a voice not meant
to be heard by anyone else.

“I agree,” Jake whispered, his lips close to hear ear. She
felt his breath on her skin and shivered. Louder he said to the saleslady. “We’ll
take them.”

Jake quickly chose black leather jeans and a button-front
leather vest that looked sort of Western. Meanwhile, Christine perused the wall
of women’s wear. Just how daring did she want to be? Ultimately, she went with
a simple black leather dress, very short, with off-the-shoulder lacey long
sleeves. She tried it on and was quite pleased because she still looked like
herself, just a lot sexier.

She stepped out of the dressing room to find Jake leaning
against the wall holding out a pair of stockings still in the package and a
tiny little thong. “I talked to the saleslady and she said we could go ahead
and get dressed in our new duds.”

“Without paying?”

“I already gave her my credit card. Don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry. You said you were working two jobs.”

“I have enough for a splurge now and then. Good to know you’re
not a spendthrift.”

“You haven’t seen me in a department store yet. Be warned.”
She took the stockings and thong. “This thing is going to feel so weird.”

“You need to take a little risk.”

She went back into the dressing room and changed into
everything but the new shoes, which were up by the cash register. When she reappeared,
Jake was changed too, and damn he looked good in leather. The saleslady came
over with her shoes. “Put these on, then check your whole look out in the
mirror.”

Christine still felt a little unstable on such high heels,
but she loved the overall look. Feeling the thong between her ass cheeks turned
her on a little bit, as did the leather rubbing against her bare breasts.

Jake came up behind her and admired their reflections in the
mirror. “Hottest woman I have ever seen in my life!”

There was a private entrance to the club at the back of the
store via a spiral staircase. A velvet rope blocked the upstairs door but a
button read “Ring Me”. Jake pressed it and they heard the buzzer from the other
side of the door. A burly guy, the bouncer apparently, opened the door and
asked to see their IDs and asked who recommended the club to them. Jake gave
the name Sasha, which had Christine immediately wondering about this other
woman. Once the IDs met with the bouncer’s approval, he opened the door. Behind
the door was a short hallway. “It’ll be just a moment before Mistress greets
you.”

Christine fidgeted nervously as she stared at the plain wood
door until Jake captured her hands in his to still them. “You’re safe with me
and we can leave whenever you want.”

Christine nodded, feeling calmer with his hands cradling
hers and his deep voice with a slight New York accent filling her ears. She
trusted him instinctually, the crazy guy who thought he was a werewolf. Why was
that?

The door opened and a buxom woman greeted them. She wore a
sheer mesh top with the word “Mistress” in hot pink above her boobs. Christine
had to force herself not to stare at her very visible nipples. “Welcome,” she
said in an over-the-top sultry voice. “Follow me.”

She led them down another short hall to an area with three
round tables and a wall full of every conceivable paddling device. Couples had
already claimed two of the tables, so she invited them to sit at the third.
There was a counter in front of the wall of devices, bare except for a credit
card machine. Mistress reached behind the counter and pulled out three
clipboards and pens. She handed them to each couple.

“Since you all are new to the club, you must first sign the
rules, then I’ll give you a little tour, and last you can choose your toys and
equipment.”

Christine leaned over to read the sheet of paper. The two
rules that she hadn’t expected were the zero alcohol policy and the zero
intercourse policy. She’d expected this place to be all about sex.

“Let me emphasize the safe, sane, consensual motto and make
sure you understand safe words. You may have used these at home or at other
clubs. If not, we recommend Green, Yellow, Red—they’re easy to remember and the
meanings are fairly obvious. Green means, yup, I’m enjoying what we’re doing.
Yellow means too intense, slow down…you may need to have a discussion about
what each of you think you can handle. Red means stop—nothing else happens,
bindings are released. No argument or debate.”

One of the ladies at the far table raised her hand. “Why don’t
we just say ‘stop’ then?”

“You may be in a scene where you want to yell stop and feel
you’re being forced. In this case, stop doesn’t really mean stop, no doesn’t
really mean no. When you can’t handle the scene any longer, there must be no
confusion.” Mistress practically glared at the lady, causing her to cower.
Christine was glad she hadn’t asked the question.

Once they had all signed the rules, they had to relinquish
their cell phones since the club had a strict privacy policy. “And if you’d
like to check out any equipment, we ask for your license. You’ll get it back
when you return the equipment, simple as that.”

Oddly enough, this woman reminded Christine of her third
grade teacher, putting a definite damper on any horniness she’d been feeling.
But once they started their tour of the club, that changed. She wasn’t used to
seeing people of all different shapes, sizes, races, piercings and tattoos,
semi-nude. Any porn she’d ever watched online had sexy men and skinny women
with huge boobs, but real life came in a variety. They passed several cubbies
with different scenes being played out before they came to an open room.
Industrial music boomed out of unseen speakers. There was a tiny bar serving
colas and water. At the far end was a stage raised about a foot above the
regular floor. Every bare section of wall had eyehooks or manacles or pulleys
with rope attached. A bit away from the walls were devices such as a wood X to
which a woman was strapped spread-eagled. Her partner was sliding an ice cube
over her bare skin, causing her to jerk and giggle. The rest of the equipment
ranged from simple chairs to swings to tables that looked like medieval torture
devices.

Jake whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?”

Christine nodded, though there were a couple of things
really freaking her out, like the stage show. A man with an executioner’s hood
caned a petite naked woman who was bent over a bench. Her butt was hot pink
from the hits, but every time the man paused she wiggled her butt as if she
were eager for more. The other thing Christine couldn’t help but be scared of
was the needle play. A man was tied up on a bench with a dominatrix—she looked
the part—piercing his scrotum. Jake flinched at that scene too.

The whole place smelled of leather and sweat and a sweet
incense from censers scattered about the ceiling. The sounds ranged from moans
to grunts to screams to quiet conversations. The other interesting thing was
the number of people simply watching. Didn’t the players think that rude?

Mistress spoke to their small group again. “Most of the
folks out here on the floor don’t mind you respectfully observing them. No
comments or questions, though. The folks in the cubby areas tend to want their
privacy, so please don’t disturb them. We also have theme rooms and I can give
you a price list if you’re interested.”

“Um, theme rooms?” Christine asked.

“Yes. We have a room that could be a honeymoon suite in the
Poconos, a classroom with switches, rulers and boards. There’s a gloomy dungeon
with gas torches, a padded room with straightjackets and electroshock devices,
and a surgical suite with stirrups attached to a stainless steel table.” She
smiled evilly at Christine. Boy, she would not want to meet this woman alone in
an alley. “There are also VIP rooms for those who want absolute privacy.”

Last, Mistress showed them the counter where they could sign
out different devices.

Jake hugged Christine. “So what do you think? Do you want to
try something or observe for a while?”

“I think we should try something. If I observe too long, I
might chicken out. But absolutely no piercing or cutting or blood.”

“I like your skin unmarred.” He picked up a riding crop. “Though
perhaps a little more pink.” He gave her a wicked grin and Christine shivered.
The fact that a BDSM club was taboo in her normal world was both a turn-on and
frightening. Jake turned over his driver’s license in exchange for the riding
crop, a black satin blindfold and a worn leather paddle. The man behind the
counter also gave them a can of bleach wipes, since they were expected to clean
off any equipment after use. The practicalities were not a turn-on, but they
made Christine feel safer within these boundaries.

Jake, goodies in hand, turned her around to face the open
floor area. “So, what’ll it be—the wall, a bench, or a cross?”

“Shouldn’t you pick, Master?”

“I want us to try whatever will keep you wanting more, not
scare you away from the scene for good.”

“The wall with the manacles… Geez, I can’t believe I just
said that.”

Jake pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “In case I
forget later, thanks.”

“For what?”

“For letting us stay at your house and for being open to
experimentation.”

“You’re welcome.”

They wended their way to a free section of the wall with
leather and chain manacles attached with a metal eyehook. It looked ominous, a
modern take on an Inquisition dungeon. Christine’s palms grew clammy at the
same time the spot between her legs moistened. Who knew panic could be such a
turn-on?

“Remember, you’re in charge,” Jake told her as he guided her
closer to the wall. He turned her to face it, pressing in close behind her so
that she could feel his hard-on against her ass and his breath on her neck. He
slid his hands up her ribs, tickling her underarms before sliding up her arms
to her wrists. His fingers circled her wrists as the manacles soon would.

Christine turned her head to the right and noticed a
hand-holding couple watching her.
I’m doing this in front of people!
The
taboo element notched way up and arousal shimmered through her body.

“Shit,” Jake whispered. She looked up to see he was fumbling
with the thick leather and metal buckle on the cuffs.

Christine chuckled. “Take your time, dear.”

“It’s just that people are watching us.”

“Stage fright?”

Now he chuckled too as he finally got the cuffs latched. “Maybe
a little. I think it’s different because I know it’s your first time. You
remember the safe words?”

“Green, yellow, red, and yellow does not mean drive faster
and run the red light.”

“Not what most of my customers think.”

“Then they should leave themselves more time to get where
they’re going.”

He showed her the blindfold. “Well, we, my dear, have plenty
of time.”

“Yes, Master.” Now that she couldn’t see, her other senses
heightened, not just to Jake’s light touches and the change in his breathing
that told her he was quite turned-on, but to more distant sounds, like the
couple watching them and whispering to each other, though the pulsing music
made it hard to hear the actual words. Nearby she heard the slap of leather
against flesh, followed by a moan and a shouted, “More, Master!” She heard a
lot of creaks, leather and wood and metal being tested for strength and
endurance. She tasted saltiness from sweat on her lips and smelled Jake’s musky
cologne. The smell of leather and old paint and smoke assailed her nostrils.