A Dom is for Life Read online

  We leave Pru at the bar, and I follow Josh through a set of double doors at the far end of the bar which I remember leads to the main playroom, usually referred to as the dungeon. Earlier, the space was deserted and silent. Now, it throbs with sensual music and the breathy moans of submissives receiving their fix of endorphin-driven ecstasy.

  “The Shibari is happening through there,” Josh says, pointing to another door.

  From my earlier, tour I remember seeing a small stage set up in the side room, and that area is well-lit, unlike the rest of the dungeon.

  Each piece of equipment is ingeniously illuminated from below, by means of lighting set into the floor. Areas of the room remain in darkness.

  “The lights are pressure sensitive,” Josh explains. “They come on if the system detects footsteps.”

  “Okay. So, if I…” I saunter towards a spanking bench, to suddenly find myself bathed in soft, white light.

  “Exactly.” Josh watches me, arms folded. “Have you done messing about now or do you want to use that thing?”

  The bench appears inviting enough. My earlier reservations are dissolving as I sink back into the familiar ambience of a kink club. “Maybe later,” I concede. “Is that Heidi, over there?”

  I’m looking across the playroom to where most of the occupants have gathered. I can make out the upper portion of a St Andrew’s Cross over the heads of the crowd.

  Over to the far right is another pool of light, this one showcasing the wax play. A submissive, naked from the waist up, is strapped to a Perspex table, and her play partner is dribbling hot wax onto her nipples. She writhes and gasps and seems to be having a seriously good time.

  Josh and I tried it once — we would try anything, more or less — but it wasn’t my favourite kink. It was uncomfortable, and I could relate to that, but it never cranked my shaft in quite the way I liked. I would never finish a wax play scene begging Josh to fuck me, and as far as I was concerned, that was the yardstick. I always preferred to end the evening with him inside me, not in the shower.

  We join the group close to the cross. The circle widens to let us in. Everyone always gets a decent view in a well-run club, etiquette and all that. I notch up another tick for Heidi’s.

  The slave receiving a workover is a young man of perhaps twenty-five. He’s wearing a black leather harness around his chest, and a pair of leather shorts with the portion that would cover his buttocks cut away. He is secured by the wrists and ankles to the four points of the cross, and by an O ring in his leather collar to the central strut. Already his back and bared buttocks are criss-crossed with narrow red stripes.

  Heidi has been transformed from the casually dressed woman I met with this afternoon. Then, she wore a pair of loose-fitting black trousers and a pale-pink tunic top, and her dark hair was loose about her shoulders. Now, she is perfectly splendid in a red catsuit made, I think, of latex. She carries it off to perfection. It could have been painted onto her skin. Her hair is arranged in a severe coil on top of her head, and she strides around her cowering submissive in shiny black studded boots with heels at least six inches high. Her makeup is austere to say the least, and she wields the flogger in her right hand with devastating skill.

  “Is this a real punishment?” I whisper to Josh.

  “Hard to tell. Heidi and her boys like to play hard, but it looks like it,” he replies as the flogger lands again across the youth’s unprotected shoulders.

  The sub lets out an agonised groan.

  Heidi moves in, reaches around him, and cups his balls. Suddenly, she straightens and steps on a lever set into the floor.

  The circular platform upon which the cross is mounted slowly turns, so we are all treated to view of the man’s engorged cock, straining within his leather pants. Heidi releases a zip on either side of his erection, and the front panel falls open to reveal his swollen dick and balls. She clicks her fingers, and another young man dressed in similar fetish wear scurries forward, his head bowed. He hands her an item then backs away.

  The new implement is called a ball stretcher, I think. Parachute style, it is made of leather and clips around the scrotum, to encase the man’s balls. Heidi fits it quickly, then stands back to admire the view. Metallic chains dangle beneath the leather parachute, and she summons her other slave back to her. This time he brings with him a selection of weights. Heidi chooses a couple and hangs them from the chains to stretch her sub’s scrotum. He groans, but his cock swells even bigger.

  He is mouthing the words ‘please, Mistress’, but Heidi merely slaps his turgid cock and stamps on the lever again to turn him away from us.

  She switches her flogger for a paddle, the heavy sort that really delivers a punch. It’s enough to make even a pain slut like me cringe.

  “I wonder what he did,” I whisper.

  “Some daft prank designed to put him in exactly this situation,” Josh replies. “Davey and Simon are the worst pair of brats I know, but Heidi keeps them in line. Mostly.” He leans down to speak to me. “The one on the cross now is Davey, and the fetcher and carrier is Simon. It’s my guess they’ll be switching places soon. If Heidi is satisfied that they’ve learned their lesson she may let them wank each other off to amuse the audience.”

  I’m not sure I’d find that especially entertaining, and my expression must betray my lack of interest.

  “Not your idea of fun?” He drops his arm across my shoulders. “Never mind, we can finish the tour while that’s going on.”

  We remain watching while Heidi concludes her business with Davey, then stands back to allow Simon to release him from the cross. The young man crumples onto the floor and immediately crawls over to kiss Heidi’s booted toes. She reaches down to pat him on the head, then gives him permission to show off his stripes to the assembled members. While Davey preens over his badges of honour, the weights still dangling from his scrotum, Heidi secures Simon to the cross.

  His attire is very similar to Davey’s, but instead of the cutaway shorts he wears a G-string thong consisting of said G-string, a miniscule pouch to house his dick and balls, and a leather waistband.

  Heidi uses a heavier flogger this time, and within minutes the man is straining at the cuffs. Heidi takes her time, pausing after every half dozen strokes or so to glare at her helpless submissive. When she’s good and ready, she unclips the G-string from the waistband, and Simon’s cock is released in all its engorged splendour. This time, it is Davey, his own genitals now unadorned, who brings the instruments of further torture for Heidi’s approval. Simon is decked out in a tight cock ring, and Heidi inserts a plug into his anus while Davey wipes the droplets of semen from his comrade’s leaking dick. She leaves Davey facing his attentive audience when she disappears behind the cross to administer the final strokes with the paddle.

  Once the punishment is complete, Simon, who I can only assume to have been the ringleader in whatever misdemeanour is being dealt with here, is left on the cross for the onlookers to examine and play with further, should they so choose.

  “You will please me by amusing my guests,” Heidi tells him.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he agrees, nodding with what seems to be genuine enthusiasm.

  Meanwhile, Davey pouts, no longer the centre of attention, though he perks up when Heidi permits him to entertain himself by fisting his own erection and pumping hard, whilst twisting the butt plug in his comrade’s anus.

  Matters thus attended to, she strolls across to greet us.

  “How nice to see you again so soon, Libby.” She offers me her hand. “And you, Josh. This is not one of your regular evenings with us, is it?”

  “Libby and I were out together for the evening and decided to finish up here,” he explains. “Nice scene, Heidi.”

  “Ah, yes. Now perhaps we shall have some peace at home without those two bickering the entire time. For a few days, at least.” She turns to me. “Our establishment must feel very different during business hours.”

  “That’s why we’re here,�
�� I reply. “Josh’s suggestion, really, but it is helpful. It all seems very well-run, and I’ve met a couple of your staff. Joel, on the door,” I clarify when she raises an inquiring eyebrow. “And Pru.”

  Heidi nods. “Josh told me that you are familiar with our lifestyle. It was one of the reasons I was so keen to hire you, though your membership of the Institute of Chartered Accountants helped.”

  “Not to mention the BA in Business and Management Studies,” Josh chips in.

  “Exactly,” Heidi agrees. “Welcome to the club, Libby. So, is your visit entirely professional or are you perhaps contemplating playing as well?”

  “Well, this evening we—”

  “I think we’ll be playing.” I interrupt Josh with a quick smile, “though I doubt we’ll be nearly so entertaining as you were just now.”

  Heidi grins. “Well, it’s true that Josh and Pru know how to put on a good show, but I sense real chemistry here, between you two. Feel free to explore and enjoy yourselves. Now, I really should do a circuit or two, just to make sure everyone is playing nicely.”

  Chapter 11

  Josh

  “A good show?” Libby levels a questioning gaze at me. “Care to explain?”

  I would have preferred to expand on the dynamic between myself and Pru in my own time, but I suppose it’s better to get it out of the way early. It might prevent misunderstandings later. Even so, I cast a baleful glare in the direction of Heidi’s retreating figure. She can be tactless when she has a mind to be.

  Or, maybe, she believes in leaving those around her with nowhere to hide. She’s forced the issue, and now I have to deal with it.

  No point beating about the bush. I decide to tell it like it is. “Pru and I often scene together. Demonstration floggings, mostly. To drum up business on quiet nights.

  “She’s your sub?” Libby’s eyes widen. “You and her?”

  “There is no me and her,” I reply emphatically, grasping Libby’s hand. “Come on, let’s discuss this somewhere quieter.”

  She allows me to lead her over to a vacant sofa, but her expression suggests I’m not nearly out of the woods yet.

  “You told me there hadn’t been anyone…” she starts.

  “Actually, no, I didn’t say that,” I counter. “But it really depends what you mean by ‘anyone’.”

  “By ‘anyone’, I mean someone like your Pru. She’s…she’s gorgeous,” Libby mutters.

  I see no point in disputing that fact. “True. She is. But she’s not my Pru. She’s a damn good sub, though. A true professional. Her job here is to mentor new submissives, help to train less experienced Doms, and to participate in demonstration events. She’s very proficient at what she does, and a nice person as well, when you get to know her.”

  “You said she was your friend.”

  “She is.”

  “Not your employee. You said friend.”

  “She’s both,” I say firmly. “But we’re not lovers. Not involved in that way at all.”

  “But if you do scenes together…”

  I rake my fingers through my hair. “Look, I can’t explain it, not really. Perhaps Heidi had it right when she mentioned chemistry. You and I have chemistry, me and Pru don’t. We go through the motions, put on the show, just as Heidi said, but that’s it. We talk. We have a drink together, afterwards. We laugh. I enjoy her company and she enjoys mine. But that’s it. End of.”

  “But I don’t understand. When she’s so beautiful, and you, you’re so…so…”

  I take her hand again, relieved that she doesn’t pull away. “I love you, Libby. I might scene with other subs, but that’s because I have a job to do here. And I suppose I don’t want to let my skills slide. Practice makes perfect and all that. Even so, if it upsets you, then I won’t do it anymore. It’s no big deal to me. There are plenty more Doms for Heidi to pair up with Pru.”

  “But, if you—”

  “If I’ve learned anything these last three or so years, it’s to recognise priorities and get them in the right order. I put my pride before you once before, and it was a mistake. A costly mistake. It won’t be happening again. You are what matters to me now, sweetheart. Pru knows that. Heidi, too, I suspect. All I need to do is convince you.”

  “You spoke to Pru about me?”

  I nod. “I told her what happened in my office that first time. The perfume…” I meet Libby’s gaze. “I seem to recall she made me see that you and I had unfinished business. I think she also accused me of being a quitter. She definitely convinced me I shouldn’t leave matters as they were, and Heidi dumping the finance officer recruitment thing on me gave me the reason I needed to come and find you again. The rest, though, as they say, is all my own unaided work.”

  “Oh.” Libby stares at me. “Oh,” she repeats.

  “Oh, what?”

  “Just — oh.”

  “Do you want me to take you home?” I suggest, though with no real enthusiasm.

  She shakes her head. “You promised me the grand tour.”

  I stand up and offer her my hand. “Come on, then.”

  “I have one question, if I may?”

  “Go on.”

  “In what areas, precisely, do you consider yourself to be in need of practice? It’s just that, if you won’t be…working with Pru anymore, then I might be able to be of assistance.”

  I flash her a grin, and wonder, not for the first time, what I was thinking of when I almost let Libby slip through my fingers.

  We complete our circuit of the playroom, taking in the spanking benches, stocks, the St Andrew’s Cross, now occupied by another couple, the examination chair and the various tables where submissives can be strapped in whatever position suits the Dom’s requirements. The walls are lined with shelving or racks to accommodate paddles, floggers, canes and such like, though many of the Doms prefer to bring their own implements. We also have a stock of costumes to add a touch of relish to role-play — doctor and nurse outfits, a teacher’s gown, gymslips, French maid outfit, and a variety of uniforms, both male and female. We add to the stock all the time, based on members’ requests.

  “Do you sell equipment or clothing?” Libby asks me.

  “We have occasional sales where a supplier comes in and sets up a stall, and we held a fetish market earlier in the year. Lots of stalls, taster sessions, and so on. It was very popular.”

  “We should do more of those. They help to boost membership, and they can make good money,” she observes.

  I suspect she’s right. “Okay. Maybe you could coordinate that sort of event, then?”

  “Love to.” She smiles at me and seems genuinely excited. “Shall we go upstairs now?”

  I’m happy to do just that, since the entertainment I have planned for her is to take place in one of those private rooms. I mean to fuck her, and I prefer to do it without an audience, at least on this occasion.

  I show her the mock schoolroom first, complete with old-fashioned wooden desks and benches, and an easel-style blackboard with the words ‘bend over’ scrawled in white chalk. The huge teacher’s desk sports a dizzying array of canes, rulers, and gym shoes. Libby would present a stunning sight draped over that desk, her beautiful grey skirt rolled up around her waist and her panties around her knees.

  “Have you earned six of the best?” I enquire politely.

  “Not yet, Sir,” she replies. “Unless you think differently, obviously.”

  It was only yesterday when I gave her twenty-five strokes with my belt, and I know she’s still feeling the effects of that. Six of the best can wait.

  We move on to the medical exam room. I always find this particular play too clinical for my liking, though I do help myself to a couple of items from the gleaming white cabinet before ushering Libby into the massage room.

  “Do you have male and female masseuses?” she asks.

  I raise one eyebrow.

  “Of course.” She smiles. “Silly question.”

  The next themed room is a frilly, frot
hy concoction known as the tart’s boudoir. A four-poster bed dominates, with stocks at both the head and the foot, and room for a cage beneath. It’s piled high with crimson velvet cushions, plump pillows, tassels and ties. There’s a pretty little hip bath at the foot, acquired from an antique fair, as well as a collection of delicate French period furniture. I know Heidi likes this room, and I admit, it does have its charms, but I prefer my fucking with fewer frills.

  Libby bounces on the bed a couple of times, scattering the cushions. “This is nice,” she says. “I love that mirror.”

  The piece in question is an ornate affair with a heavy gilt frame. I seem to recall that’s an antique, too, and I suppose it’s okay, if you appreciate that sort of thing.

  “And these screens,” she gushes, opening out one of the freestanding modesty panels. “Are they as old as they look?”

  I shrug. I didn’t acquire the decor or props, but since I know some of the items in here are genuine, I see no reason to suppose Heidi didn’t go the whole hog.

  “The rest of the rooms up here are just private lounges,” I explain. “A place to come and relax, away from the crowds. One has a jacuzzi, the others just a sofa, a bed, and unlimited lube and condoms.”

  “Lube and condoms? Sounds good.”

  I smile. “You get that in all our rooms, actually.”

  She follows me into the first of our private lounges.

  “This is nice.” Libby stretches out on the sofa. “Very restful.”

  I glance about the space. It will do fine for what I intend. “Libby, take off your dress.”

  She peers up at me. “Sir?”

  I remove the tube of lubricant and a pair of silicon butt plugs from my pocket. “I brought us some toys. So, I need your dress to be off. It would be a pity to stain it…”

  She gets up and reaches behind her to unzip the dress. I could offer to help, and I normally would, but on this occasion I prefer to leave it to her. Removing her own clothes helps the sub to find the right head space to obey, to surrender to whatever her Dom has in mind.

  The lingerie beneath is breathtaking. Libby tips up her chin with a proud smile as I take in the oyster-coloured lacy bra and matching bikini briefs. She’s even gone to the trouble of wearing stockings and suspenders.