I held his hand as we opened the door.
"Is this it?"
"Yes, baby. Scared?"
"A little."
We stepped inside, walking right past the adult toy store, although I let J. pause for a moment and look through the doorway at the variety of leather and chrome goodies. The cashier, with her dyed black hair and thin, penciled-on eyebrows, flashed him a seductive smile, but he didn't seem to notice. That's the kind of devotion I appreciate.
I tugged his hand, and led him away from the shop. His palms were damp. Sweet man.
"We're going downstairs," I said, smiling. He smiled too, but I could see a little flicker of fear in his warm brown eyes.
"Are we the only ones here?" he asked, glancing around nervously.
"Not quite."
The club did seem deserted, with just one a well-dressed, middle-aged couple visible in the far corner. They might have been anywhere – except she was on her knees, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back, as he spoke to her in hushed tones.
J. descended the stairs ahead of me, so I could watch the way his shoulders tensed, the way his long limbs moved gracefully. I had grown to love the sight of this body. Beautiful man.
The many interconnected rooms in the basement seemed empty too, but it was hard to see around the dimly lit corners. Light fixtures high on the walls cast an amber glow, but not very far. The floor was rough cobblestone, the atmospheric kind of flooring you had to be careful not to catch a heel in. And I was wearing the highest heels I owned.
"Cool," he said, nodding with approval. "Very dungeon-like."
Just as he began to relax, we were startled by the sound of a whip cracking, followed by a low moan.
"One!" a deep voice called. "How many more?"
"Nine more, Sir," came the hoarse woman's reply.
The whip cracked again. "Two!" She moaned again, but I thought I could hear her whisper, "Thank you, Sir."
I stood holding his hand, as we listened to this little drama being carried on out of sight, in a room at the end of the hall. "Three!" The snap of the whip was louder this time.
"Do you want to go watch them?" I asked.
"No, that's ok," he said, trying to laugh a little. "They seem to be busy."
I put my arm around his waist, adoring the way he fit in my arm. Tall, sexy man. I slipped my hand down between his pants and the satin panties he wore just for me, taking a moment to savor the feel of his ass beneath the smooth, shiny fabric.
"What color today, babe?"
"The baby blue ones," he said. "I know they're your favorites." They had been my gift to him months ago, on the anniversary of his first surrender to me. Thinking of that night again made me wet. I backed him up to the wall and pressed my crotch against his muscled thigh. He cupped one of my breasts tenderly.
"Ok, let's find a room of our own," I said, trying to make my tone reassuring. "If you still want to serve me."
"Oh, I do. Of course I do," he said, smiling down at me. "I would do almost anything for you."
"Almost?"
He laughed and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "Anything. I would do anything for you."
"Good boy," I said. "We'll see, won't we?" I could feel him shudder.
We walked down the dark hall, glancing into the rooms. Most were empty. In one, a completely naked blonde woman was chained to the wall, her round breasts eyes swaying, her eyes clenched in pain. A dark, bearded man attached rubber-tipped clamps to her nipples with exquisite care.
"Stop, please stop," she choked. The man stroked between her legs for a few moments and applied a long vibrator to her nipples, until her face relaxed. Then began adjusting the clamps again. "Use your word, if you need to," he said sternly.
She shook her head no. "I'm fine, Sir." Then, as he twisted a clamp, she began to whimper again. "Stop, please stop."
We walked on by, strolling like we were at a museum, gazing at the exhibits. The smell of lust and leather filled the air, and the wall lamps cast long shadows, giving the whole basement a spooky glow.
"Fascinating," J muttered.
Finally, near the end of the hall, I found the room I was looking for. "In here, baby," I said, and walked him over to a leather discipline bench. Right next door, we could hear the sadist finishing his punishment. "Ten!" he shouted, and the whip crack was so loud it made my ears ring. Or maybe that was his woman screaming. "Is that enough?" he demanded.
"Yes," she whispered.
"That's really up to me, isn't it?" he barked, bringing the whip down again. "Ten more for forgetting that!" He must have closed the door to their little private hell then, because the snap of the whip and the screams were muffled from that point on.
J. seemed relieved. He looked around our room. "This is it?"
"Yes. This is where you will serve me. Take off your pants."
"Can we close our door?"
"No, we cannot close the door," I said, without smiling. "Take off your pants."
He chuckled a nervous little chuckle and stepped out of his Dockers, revealing the baby blue satin panties stretched over his gorgeous, smooth cock. Already hard. Probably hard since I greeted him with a kiss, an hour ago.
"Your shirt, too," I said.
He pulled off his tee-shirt. Broad chest, relatively flat stomach. Sweet little butt. Sexy man.
I leaned down to plant a kiss on his belly, which made him shiver.
"I want you to lie down on the bench face down," I said.
"It's not long enough, I don't think."
"You can let your arms and legs dangle off," I said. "Trust me."
I helped him climb onto the contraption, one of the few such benches I'd ever seen with fully and independently adjustable legs. It was invented by an architect friend of mine, years ago. Marty lived up in the Pacific Northwest now, probably designing other delightful instruments of torture.
"Lay your face here," I said, indicating the little leather shelf. "Now just hold still a minute."
There were leather straps conveniently attached to each leg of the bench. I yanked down J.'s baby blue panties and left them dangling around one leg, then busied myself strapping down each ankle, each wrist, buckling them as tightly as they would go. At home we used silk scarves, or strips of elastic bandage. Here, he would learn what real discipline felt like.
I raised the back legs of the bench a little, and lowered the front, so he was tipped slightly head down, his white ass invitingly aimed upward, his legs spread a little by the bench.
"How's that? Comfortable?"