the way. Fran peered inside quickly, but seemed uninterested in the goings-on within.
‘Each to their own,’ she said with a shrug, without giving it a second glance.
Listening to the soft moans and swishing of floggers landing on skin, I wished that I wasn’t with my sister and my best friend.
It had been a long time since I’d worn a rope harness or felt a hand against my arse in anything more than a gentle smack during lovemaking and I missed it. I had made a deliberate effort to cut myself off from the scene after I’d broken up with Dominik and then got together with Simón. It wouldn’t have been fair on him to keep that side of myself alive, I’d thought, if we couldn’t make it work together. So I’d pushed those feelings away in the hope that if I ignored them long enough, they’d disappear.
The fact that I had been unsuccessful in my attempts to banish the fetish scene and its effects on my body and mind was obvious. The noises emanating from within the darkened corners of the dungeon, the whistling of a whip through the air, the thud of a palm onto a buttock, the groan of submissives being put through their paces, made my thoughts race and my hands shake. I was immensely turned on by my surroundings, and I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the rest of the evening pretending otherwise.
I knew that Fran would be safe with Chris, and I was entirely comfortable alone, so I would be able to slip away for a short while to enjoy myself.
‘Hey, I’m going to get some drinks, meet you guys on the dance floor, OK?’
‘OK,’ Fran yelled back. ‘We’ll be here all night!’
They disappeared into the crowd, leaving me to my own devices.
I considered a return to the dungeon, but dismissed the idea as the equipment had all been in use, and I actually wasn’t sure that my outfit would survive a flogging, or that I’d be able to get out of the latex hot pants without tearing them.
Instead, I followed a set of stairs up to a large, dark and unnamed room, my heels catching dangerously on each uneven step and threatening to send me tumbling.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the light. I was in the balcony of the converted cinema, which still featured the original fold-down seating. I moved into a row and settled onto a perch, taking advantage of a chance to ease out of my uncomfortably high heels.
A short film was playing on a loop. Flashes of naked bodies, in sometimes extreme and fetishistic poses, appeared onscreen, casting a glare on the other partygoers in the room.
After a moment, a woman slipped into a seat in the row ahead of me, her partner trailing behind her. She was one of the prettiest women I’d ever seen, almost certainly a model or an actress. She had an oval face, straight, short blond hair and blue eyes so pale they were close to grey. Her make-up was muted, and she was dressed in a latex nurse’s outfit which fitted her like a second skin and wasn’t even close to tacky. It had probably been designed for her, rather than picked off the peg like mine.
Her partner was clad all in black, in jeans and shirt, his only hint of fetishwear, despite the strict dress code, a mask that covered his eyes. He might have looked ridiculous, but for the confident slant of his shoulders, rakishly messed hair and the company of such a beautiful woman – all factors that suggested a devil-may-care attitude rather than a tendency to dress badly.
She met my eyes as she entered the row, her full lips travelling upward in a half smile. There were empty seats all around me, but she’d chosen to sit less than an arm’s breadth away.
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, wondering what would happen next, why they’d sat so close. They began kissing almost immediately, soft, gentle kisses, and at first I averted my eyes as they seemed so intimate together. This was no drunken moment of passion but a scene that they’d chosen to share with me.
I turned back to see him dipping his head, and her wriggling
‘Each to their own,’ she said with a shrug, without giving it a second glance.
Listening to the soft moans and swishing of floggers landing on skin, I wished that I wasn’t with my sister and my best friend.
It had been a long time since I’d worn a rope harness or felt a hand against my arse in anything more than a gentle smack during lovemaking and I missed it. I had made a deliberate effort to cut myself off from the scene after I’d broken up with Dominik and then got together with Simón. It wouldn’t have been fair on him to keep that side of myself alive, I’d thought, if we couldn’t make it work together. So I’d pushed those feelings away in the hope that if I ignored them long enough, they’d disappear.
The fact that I had been unsuccessful in my attempts to banish the fetish scene and its effects on my body and mind was obvious. The noises emanating from within the darkened corners of the dungeon, the whistling of a whip through the air, the thud of a palm onto a buttock, the groan of submissives being put through their paces, made my thoughts race and my hands shake. I was immensely turned on by my surroundings, and I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the rest of the evening pretending otherwise.
I knew that Fran would be safe with Chris, and I was entirely comfortable alone, so I would be able to slip away for a short while to enjoy myself.
‘Hey, I’m going to get some drinks, meet you guys on the dance floor, OK?’
‘OK,’ Fran yelled back. ‘We’ll be here all night!’
They disappeared into the crowd, leaving me to my own devices.
I considered a return to the dungeon, but dismissed the idea as the equipment had all been in use, and I actually wasn’t sure that my outfit would survive a flogging, or that I’d be able to get out of the latex hot pants without tearing them.
Instead, I followed a set of stairs up to a large, dark and unnamed room, my heels catching dangerously on each uneven step and threatening to send me tumbling.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the light. I was in the balcony of the converted cinema, which still featured the original fold-down seating. I moved into a row and settled onto a perch, taking advantage of a chance to ease out of my uncomfortably high heels.
A short film was playing on a loop. Flashes of naked bodies, in sometimes extreme and fetishistic poses, appeared onscreen, casting a glare on the other partygoers in the room.
After a moment, a woman slipped into a seat in the row ahead of me, her partner trailing behind her. She was one of the prettiest women I’d ever seen, almost certainly a model or an actress. She had an oval face, straight, short blond hair and blue eyes so pale they were close to grey. Her make-up was muted, and she was dressed in a latex nurse’s outfit which fitted her like a second skin and wasn’t even close to tacky. It had probably been designed for her, rather than picked off the peg like mine.
Her partner was clad all in black, in jeans and shirt, his only hint of fetishwear, despite the strict dress code, a mask that covered his eyes. He might have looked ridiculous, but for the confident slant of his shoulders, rakishly messed hair and the company of such a beautiful woman – all factors that suggested a devil-may-care attitude rather than a tendency to dress badly.
She met my eyes as she entered the row, her full lips travelling upward in a half smile. There were empty seats all around me, but she’d chosen to sit less than an arm’s breadth away.
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, wondering what would happen next, why they’d sat so close. They began kissing almost immediately, soft, gentle kisses, and at first I averted my eyes as they seemed so intimate together. This was no drunken moment of passion but a scene that they’d chosen to share with me.
I turned back to see him dipping his head, and her wriggling
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