turned to me.
‘Hope you don’t mind my tracking you down, water nymph. I didn’t want to leave it to chance this time,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ Aurelia interjected, ‘you two have met already?’
‘We bumped into each other earlier,’ I told her, ‘in the dressing rooms.’
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘I was hoping that you would meet.’
She paused, and I waited for her to elucidate.
‘Vincent has certain skills that I think you might enjoy,’ she explained.
‘Darling . . .’ Andrei intervened. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t spring it on her. Might be best to talk it through first, in a different environment.’ He stared pointedly at the scene continuing alongside us, a domme dressed in a shining khaki and black governess’s get-up and caning a man who was bent over in front of her, weeping.
It was Andrei’s tentative attempts at protecting me that encouraged me to throw caution to the wind.
‘I’m game,’ I announced, although I wasn’t at all sure what I might be agreeing to. Vincent’s eyes gleamed, and he pushed up the sleeves of his black silk robe, exposing his thick forearms. He looked like a magician of the dark arts, which I supposed, in a way he was. A tattoo was carved in white ink on the inside of each of his wrists. I squinted to make them out – infinity symbols, like figures of eight lying sideways.
‘I was hoping that you would say that,’ Vincent replied. His head was cocked to one side and he was staring at me, smiling, with a satisfied look in his expression that suggested I had confirmed whatever guesses he had previously made about my character and desires.
Aurelia picked up a flogger from the nearest rack of accoutrements; walnut handled with long, soft hide falls. She turned it over in her hand and swept the leather over the inside of her wrist, learning the whip’s particular feel and peculiarities as a musician might come to grips with a new instrument.
Vincent undressed me, without paying the slightest heed to the ritual of baring my flesh. He simply unzipped the black lace playsuit that I was wearing so that it dropped down to my ankles and then he hunched down, helped me step out of it, and tossed the garment to one side. He unbuckled the towering heels that I had been bravely teetering on all night, and set them aside, gripping my ankles firmly as he did so to assist my balance. When he began to push himself up again, his mouth was only inches from my crotch. How pleasant it would be, I thought, to feel his tongue inside me. Instinctively I threaded my hands through his hair. He took hold of my wrists and pulled himself to his feet.
‘Another time,’ he whispered into my ear. His lips brushed against my ear lobe. My nerve endings began to tingle with excitement. Vincent had a way about him that all of the dominant men I had encountered possessed. An aura of confidence that transcended any wealth, education or other positive qualities he might possess, including his good looks. I had found even short, dumpy dominants that were absolute bastards attractive in the past. There was no rhyme or reason to it. The sense of power that ebbed out of him affected me in a deep, visceral sense. If I allowed myself to be swept away by it then he would have me wrapped around his little finger like another member of his chained harem.
It began and ended with rope.
I noticed, vaguely, that a space had appeared around us. The steady flow of noise in the room emanating from couples and groups engaged in BDSM play had muted to a low rumour of whispers as we became the central focus in the dungeon. Even Andrei had stepped back into the crowd. Aurelia seemed to have grown an extra foot tall. She was terrible in a regal sort of a sense, her limbs taut and her legs spread apart with her weight on her heels, a coil of energy inside her like a red-hot snake ready to strike.
There was a noise above me, and I glanced upwards and saw a panel in the ceiling move back on invisible hinges. A rigger
‘Hope you don’t mind my tracking you down, water nymph. I didn’t want to leave it to chance this time,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ Aurelia interjected, ‘you two have met already?’
‘We bumped into each other earlier,’ I told her, ‘in the dressing rooms.’
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘I was hoping that you would meet.’
She paused, and I waited for her to elucidate.
‘Vincent has certain skills that I think you might enjoy,’ she explained.
‘Darling . . .’ Andrei intervened. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t spring it on her. Might be best to talk it through first, in a different environment.’ He stared pointedly at the scene continuing alongside us, a domme dressed in a shining khaki and black governess’s get-up and caning a man who was bent over in front of her, weeping.
It was Andrei’s tentative attempts at protecting me that encouraged me to throw caution to the wind.
‘I’m game,’ I announced, although I wasn’t at all sure what I might be agreeing to. Vincent’s eyes gleamed, and he pushed up the sleeves of his black silk robe, exposing his thick forearms. He looked like a magician of the dark arts, which I supposed, in a way he was. A tattoo was carved in white ink on the inside of each of his wrists. I squinted to make them out – infinity symbols, like figures of eight lying sideways.
‘I was hoping that you would say that,’ Vincent replied. His head was cocked to one side and he was staring at me, smiling, with a satisfied look in his expression that suggested I had confirmed whatever guesses he had previously made about my character and desires.
Aurelia picked up a flogger from the nearest rack of accoutrements; walnut handled with long, soft hide falls. She turned it over in her hand and swept the leather over the inside of her wrist, learning the whip’s particular feel and peculiarities as a musician might come to grips with a new instrument.
Vincent undressed me, without paying the slightest heed to the ritual of baring my flesh. He simply unzipped the black lace playsuit that I was wearing so that it dropped down to my ankles and then he hunched down, helped me step out of it, and tossed the garment to one side. He unbuckled the towering heels that I had been bravely teetering on all night, and set them aside, gripping my ankles firmly as he did so to assist my balance. When he began to push himself up again, his mouth was only inches from my crotch. How pleasant it would be, I thought, to feel his tongue inside me. Instinctively I threaded my hands through his hair. He took hold of my wrists and pulled himself to his feet.
‘Another time,’ he whispered into my ear. His lips brushed against my ear lobe. My nerve endings began to tingle with excitement. Vincent had a way about him that all of the dominant men I had encountered possessed. An aura of confidence that transcended any wealth, education or other positive qualities he might possess, including his good looks. I had found even short, dumpy dominants that were absolute bastards attractive in the past. There was no rhyme or reason to it. The sense of power that ebbed out of him affected me in a deep, visceral sense. If I allowed myself to be swept away by it then he would have me wrapped around his little finger like another member of his chained harem.
It began and ended with rope.
I noticed, vaguely, that a space had appeared around us. The steady flow of noise in the room emanating from couples and groups engaged in BDSM play had muted to a low rumour of whispers as we became the central focus in the dungeon. Even Andrei had stepped back into the crowd. Aurelia seemed to have grown an extra foot tall. She was terrible in a regal sort of a sense, her limbs taut and her legs spread apart with her weight on her heels, a coil of energy inside her like a red-hot snake ready to strike.
There was a noise above me, and I glanced upwards and saw a panel in the ceiling move back on invisible hinges. A rigger
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