appealing, or appalling?
Lucy's own introduction to the BDSM lifestyle had been a godsend. She'd been fresh out of college, an educated woman with prospects, but no real sense of purpose. Her father had described her as a boat adrift in the sea of her own privilege. Lucy had kept that description well into her listless twenties, until a woman with a firm hand and a lot of patience taught her about life in an entirely new way. And it had started with a crop, much like the one in the leather satchel tightly grasped in Lucy's left hand.
The elevator doors opened, and Lucy led Danny over the polished hardwood floor and past gilded Rococo columns to the front desk, where a young woman with tightly braided blonde hair greeted them with a bright smile.
"Good morning, and welcome to the Sapphire. Checking in for the convention?" she asked Lucy after glancing at their luggage.
Lucy nodded and handed over her driver's license and credit card. "Lucy Culpepper, although the reservation should be for two."
After a quick check of her computer, the receptionist nodded and handed her back her cards, along with two key cards for the room. "Ah, here you are. These are your keys to the room. Sign here, and please enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call the concierge."
Lucy signed and took the cards, handing one to Danny before putting her own in the front pocket of her satchel. They were on the second floor judging by the room number, and Lucy quickly walked up the nearest set of stairs, eager to get out of the lobby. Leather-clad men and women were already queuing up to get their welcome bags and badges, and Lucy didn't want to get drawn into the maelstrom this early in the day.
Their room was easy to find. It held two double beds, a table and chairs, and the banal art that seemed to be a requirement of hotels everywhere. A lavish bathroom sat just off the entrance, and there was a mini fridge with a sign above it announcing that the beverages inside were complimentary. Lucy bent and pulled a bottle of water out for each of them. Another cup of chai would have gone down better, but if they couldn't have Lucy's tea, then at least they could settle for being well-hydrated.
"There should be a lock box in the closet and another under your bed, if you wish to utilize them," Lucy said as she pulled the steel box out from under her own bed, stowing her purse in it before swiping the key.
Danny looked surprised. "Isn't that a bit overkill? Three boxes, I mean?"
Lucy nodded, supposing that it was. "This hotel has a reputation for its discretion concerning clientele. I presume they anticipate the needs of their patrons and plan accordingly. Natasha and Lillian should be here any moment, so please, put away the things you won't be needing while we're out of the room. My assistant from Camellia is setting up the booth in the main convention area already, and I expect go we'll straight there as soon as Natasha deems us both presentable."
Danny locked her own purse away, then shrugged her jacket onto the bed and kicked off her heels. After that she started digging into her duffel— probably looking to take things out and hang them up, as it was impossible to keep a proper crease with a soft-sided bag. Lucy opened her own luggage and removed the few items of clothing she knew Natasha wouldn't be providing for the weekend, mostly underwear and her favorite dressing gown, and put them away. She set her toiletries out across only half of the sink so that Danny would feel that she had plenty of room for her own things if she opted to stay the night. Lucy pumped a little of her shea butter moisturizer onto her hands and rubbed it in, frowning at the dryness of her skin. How in this weather she could dehydrate in only a few hours constantly surprised her.
There was a knock on the door, and Lucy went to answer it while Danny continued to rummage through her duffel. A quick check through the peephole showed just who Lucy expected it
Lucy's own introduction to the BDSM lifestyle had been a godsend. She'd been fresh out of college, an educated woman with prospects, but no real sense of purpose. Her father had described her as a boat adrift in the sea of her own privilege. Lucy had kept that description well into her listless twenties, until a woman with a firm hand and a lot of patience taught her about life in an entirely new way. And it had started with a crop, much like the one in the leather satchel tightly grasped in Lucy's left hand.
The elevator doors opened, and Lucy led Danny over the polished hardwood floor and past gilded Rococo columns to the front desk, where a young woman with tightly braided blonde hair greeted them with a bright smile.
"Good morning, and welcome to the Sapphire. Checking in for the convention?" she asked Lucy after glancing at their luggage.
Lucy nodded and handed over her driver's license and credit card. "Lucy Culpepper, although the reservation should be for two."
After a quick check of her computer, the receptionist nodded and handed her back her cards, along with two key cards for the room. "Ah, here you are. These are your keys to the room. Sign here, and please enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call the concierge."
Lucy signed and took the cards, handing one to Danny before putting her own in the front pocket of her satchel. They were on the second floor judging by the room number, and Lucy quickly walked up the nearest set of stairs, eager to get out of the lobby. Leather-clad men and women were already queuing up to get their welcome bags and badges, and Lucy didn't want to get drawn into the maelstrom this early in the day.
Their room was easy to find. It held two double beds, a table and chairs, and the banal art that seemed to be a requirement of hotels everywhere. A lavish bathroom sat just off the entrance, and there was a mini fridge with a sign above it announcing that the beverages inside were complimentary. Lucy bent and pulled a bottle of water out for each of them. Another cup of chai would have gone down better, but if they couldn't have Lucy's tea, then at least they could settle for being well-hydrated.
"There should be a lock box in the closet and another under your bed, if you wish to utilize them," Lucy said as she pulled the steel box out from under her own bed, stowing her purse in it before swiping the key.
Danny looked surprised. "Isn't that a bit overkill? Three boxes, I mean?"
Lucy nodded, supposing that it was. "This hotel has a reputation for its discretion concerning clientele. I presume they anticipate the needs of their patrons and plan accordingly. Natasha and Lillian should be here any moment, so please, put away the things you won't be needing while we're out of the room. My assistant from Camellia is setting up the booth in the main convention area already, and I expect go we'll straight there as soon as Natasha deems us both presentable."
Danny locked her own purse away, then shrugged her jacket onto the bed and kicked off her heels. After that she started digging into her duffel— probably looking to take things out and hang them up, as it was impossible to keep a proper crease with a soft-sided bag. Lucy opened her own luggage and removed the few items of clothing she knew Natasha wouldn't be providing for the weekend, mostly underwear and her favorite dressing gown, and put them away. She set her toiletries out across only half of the sink so that Danny would feel that she had plenty of room for her own things if she opted to stay the night. Lucy pumped a little of her shea butter moisturizer onto her hands and rubbed it in, frowning at the dryness of her skin. How in this weather she could dehydrate in only a few hours constantly surprised her.
There was a knock on the door, and Lucy went to answer it while Danny continued to rummage through her duffel. A quick check through the peephole showed just who Lucy expected it
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