CHAPTER 2
She followed him inside. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, punctuated by strands of colored lights strung all over the place in a haphazard manner. One half of the converted space was filled with round cafe tables and chairs where people sat and stood, talking. Candles on each table gave the area a nice, intimate feeling.
The other half of the space was, from what she could tell, the dungeon proper. Various pieces of equipment sat along the wall and the middle of the space was dominated by a huge, wooden A-frame, similar to what might support a large swing.
“The bathroom’s over there,” Ray said, pointing. He led her around what she knew from the website was called the social area to the far corner. She tried not to look over at the play equipment, where several people were playing. People in the social area were dressed in everything from formal fetish wear to jeans.
“Thanks!” She locked herself in and looked in the mirror.
What am I doing? Fear warred with excitement. Ray had assured her in their messages back and forth that she was under no obligation to do anything but watch and ask questions if she wanted. Or if she wanted to try something, he could accommodate her there, too. Excitement, and eagerness, she realized, were winning the upper hand in her mental war.
Ray and Oot were both waiting outside for her when she emerged. Ray and Oot spent half an hour discussing the dungeon rules and protocols with her, showing her around, explaining equipment and the scenes she was watching. It was a lot to take in, and both confirmed and debunked a lot of BDSM fiction she’d read in the past year.
“And there’s no worry of anyone just grabbing me and playing with me?” she nervously asked.
The men looked at each other and laughed. “Not quite,” Ray said. “Not unless they want to be kicked out and banned from the club, or brought up on assault charges. Everything you see here tonight is consensual. You might see stuff that looks like it’s spur of the moment, or a bunch of people piling on, but it’s all been prenegotiated at some point.”
That relaxed her. “Okay.”
After talking for a while longer, the men started introducing her around to their friends in the social area. As they did, Sarah noticed a man standing under the A-frame with a woman who wore nothing but a thong.
“What’s he doing?” she asked.
Ray looked. “Ah. That’s Teufel. He’s a rigger.”
“A what?”
He smiled. “Just watch.”
Teufel had used a rope to secure a large brass ring to the center of the
A-frame’s upper brace. Then he proceeded to use rope to tie an intricate harness across the woman’s torso. After finishing that, which took nearly twenty minutes, he then used more ropes strung through the brass ring to help hoist her in the air.
The woman had closed her eyes upon being suspended, and her face bore what Sarah thought was one of the most blissful expressions of peace she’d ever seen in her life. Teufel used yet more rope to contort her body into the desired position. Then he pushed her and stood back.
Something in Sarah’s soul cried out to trade places with her.
The woman slowly spun in a lazy circle, looking something akin to a floating imp. Her smile never faded.
“Wow,” Sarah whispered.
Oot grinned. “Teufel’s flown me before. I love it.”
“You know how you told me to ask if I wanted to try something,” she
said to Ray. “Yeah?”
“That. I want to try that.”
****
After Teufel finished with the woman and had unwound the ropes from her, Ray led Sarah over to him and introduced them.
Not the tallest of men, Teufel stood about her height, with piercing brown almond-shaped eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He wore jeans and black motorcycle boots, but he’d taken his shirt off in the middle of the scene, exposing two tribal tattoos on his upper biceps. He had a trim, lithely muscled dancer’s body.
“She’s a noob, Teufel,” Ray said. “This is her first time in a dungeon. Go easy on her.”
Teufel didn’t smile, but he nodded. She suddenly thought about one of her college profs, who’d had a nearly identical way about him. Happy or irritated, he always appeared to be sizing you and the situation up.
“I’d be happy to suspend you.” He asked her a series of questions about her health and any physical injuries she had before asking permission to touch her. He then efficiently prodded her arms, sides, and hips before having her push down on his arms to judge her upper-body strength.
“Is your bra underwire?” he asked.
She thought it was an odd question, but she shook her head.
“Any problems taking your dress off, or do you have a T-shirt or
something you want to wear over your underwear?”
“Oh. No, I don’t mind.” She smiled nervously. “Sort of like a bathing
suit.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’m ready if you are.”
She set her purse down and kicked off her shoes. With more than a
twinge of nervous anxiety, she peeled her sundress off over her head and neatly folded it, laying it on top of her purse. She didn’t miss how Ray and Oot stayed close, talking with her and Teufel the entire time as the rigger constructed a rope harness around her torso. Teufel explained every step of the process to her, joked with her, and set her mind at ease.
She also noticed that while he did occasionally brush against her breasts in the course of tying the harness, he never tried to cop a feel.
By the time he was ready to suspend her, she felt her pulse spike. The feel of the rope against her skin was like nothing she had words to describe. Teufel looped a rope through the ring, then through the harness, and scooped her into his arms.
“Grab the ring,” he said.
She did, and he took his hands off her for a moment to do something before supporting her again. “Okay, relax.”
She felt him guide her back into a reclining position as the rope took up the slack. He made a few adjustments, then gave her a gentle push that sent her swaying back and forth.
Eyes closed, she spread her arms and…
I’m flying.
That was what it felt like, the rope comfortably confining as she felt him reach out and push her again so she began floating in a lazy arc.
She barely registered Ray’s voice at first. “How does it feel?”
She let out a deep breath. “Wonderful!”
All three men laughed. “You just created another rope slut, Teufel,” Oot
said.
“Yeah, that’s me. Inspiring rope-gasms all over the place.”
She forced one eye open and noticed the rigger wore a slight smile. She
suspected that was his happy face.
By the time she’d been returned to terra firma and untied, puddles of
rope lay around her feet. In awe, she ran her fingers over the ligature marks left on her skin. Ray and Oot both looked amused as Teufel began quickly and skillfully coiling his ropes.
“Have fun?” Ray asked as he handed her dress to her.
She nodded as she took the dress, but she didn’t put it back on. “What next?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can we try something else?”
“Like what?”
I’ve come this far, so I guess I’m not going to get murdered. “I don’t
know,” she softly said. “What would you suggest?”
“Well, you are already partially naked,” he said with a smile. “Would
you like to experience what a flogger feels like?”
She eagerly nodded.
By two o’clock when the dungeon closed, Sarah’s panties were soaked
and her mind had been expanded. After parting company with Ray and Oot with a promise to call them later when she woke up, she went home, gave herself three orgasms with her vibrator, and crashed into blissful sleep with a smile on her face.
“So, did we scare you off?” Ray asked by way of greeting. Sarah giggled. “Not quite. That was amazing.”
“What was your favorite?”
She sighed. “Everything. Do you do ropework, too?”
“I don’t do suspension. Teufel’s an expert at it. My friend, Mike, he also does it. Teaches, too.”
“Will you be at the dungeon next weekend?”
“I was going to ask you about that. Oot and I were talking on the way home. Would you like to get together for dinner one night this week? Our treat. We’d like to spend some more time talking with you in person.”
Her stomach fluttered. Part of her wanted to jump, headfirst, down the waterslide. She’d seen nothing about Ray or Oot that led her to believe they had nefarious purposes. By the end of their play, she’d hoped they’d suggest doing orgasm play with her, something she’d noticed others doing in the dungeon, but they’d kept their hands noticeably clear of her breasts and pussy.
She swallowed, hard. “Sure.”
They agreed on Tuesday night, and she arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early. Ray and Arthur, as she’d found out Oot’s real name was, waited until the waitress had taken their drink orders before getting to the meat of their conversation.
“What I’d like to establish,” Ray started, “before we go any farther, is your intentions.”
“Huh?”
“What do you have in mind? Communication is key. I want to be totally up front and honest with you that we’re not looking for a permanent third to add to our relationship. We’re both bisexual as well as poly, and we love playing with men and women both in the dungeon and sexually. However, right now, we don’t have any women as lovers. We’re open to that, if that’s something you might be interested in after playing with us for a while.”
She blinked. While he’d been open and forthright in their messages, she didn’t expect this level of communication in person.
In fact, she’d never had this level of communication in person from someone claiming to be a Dom. “Um, okay.”
“Let me tell you what we are interested in.” Apparently as the Master, Ray was the designated spokesman because Oot remained silent. “Once the three of us get to know each other better, I’m open to possibly taking you on as our submissive and play partner, if that’s something you’re interested in. Perhaps even as a poly sex partner. But if it did get to that level, we wouldn’t expect you to stay monogamous, so to speak, to us. We would, however, have some safety concerns regarding sexual contact with others. And we would insist that there’s open communication between all parties.”
She nodded, not sure how to respond.
Oot finally opened his mouth. “I think she’s speechless, Master,” he said, keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t carry.
“No, not speechless,” she said. “Just… flattered and floored.”
Ray’s brow furrowed. “Floored?”
“Yeah. The three fucktardos I dealt with before I met you guys were
real asshats.”
“Well, I make it a habit to try to not be an asshat or a fucktardo,” Ray
said. “It creates too much drama. I’d rather be straightforward from the start so no one wastes time or gets their feelings hurt. I’m also not a mind reader.”
“It’s refreshing.” She gathered her thoughts. “I’m allergic to drama.”
“Good,” he said as the waitress brought their drinks. “Then I think we’re off to a good start.”
When the waitress left, Sarah asked, “Why didn’t we talk about this last weekend?”
“Because I prefer everyone’s brains be in their heads and not between their legs when negotiating.” He smiled. “We’re as allergic to drama as you are.”
By the time they parted ways three hours later, Sarah knew with certainty she’d made the right choice. They’d agreed to meet at the dungeon again that Friday night to play.
She giggled to herself as she drove home. Orgasm play was on the table unless she chickened out at the last minute.
As she buzzed one out with her rabbit vibrator, she suspected she wouldn’t be chickening out.