Linda Waters stood in front of the building that betrayed nothing of what she knew to lie inside. There was nothing garish, no purple neon or exaggerated outlines of a woman's body. Her heart raced in her chest, and she told herself that this was absolutely fucking stupid, that there was no way that she was going to enter this den of smut and sin. So of course her hand reached out and opened the door, and she stepped inside.
It was cool and dark, dimly lit by decorated lights and fixtures in strategic locations. Of course the person she saw was a tall, gorgeous black woman wearing a latex outfit that screamed DOMINATRIX. The woman turned, looked, evaluated her, smirked, and continued on her way, without pause. She disappeared into another room, and Linda's heart gave another lurch in her chest.
A kindly young woman, wearing a french maid's outfit, came up to her and asked to take her coat. Linda nervously handed it over, feeling out of place wearing her second-best little black dress. "You look wonderful," the maid said with a soft smile. Her makeup was perfectly done, and she was a pretty little thing.
"Thank you. I don't feel wonderful," Linda admitted.
"First time?" The maid smiled knowingly. "We were all first timer's once," she assured Linda.
Linda inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. She could do this. After the things she saw, there was no question she could do this. "I hope so. What do I do now?"
The maid tilted her head towards the bar. "The easiest thing to do is sit down, get a drink, and strike up a conversation. Not everyone is here for sex, some are simply here for conversation among people who share similar likes."
"Oh." Linda felt dumb, but filed it away nevertheless. She nodded and headed to the bar, and took up a seat on a stool. A bartender who was shirtless and rocking it, took her order of an Old Fashioned. He nodded, and returned with her drink without saying a word. She saw the outline of his cock in his tight pants, and his ass was certainly worth a second look. Or maybe a third. She paid and then sat and noted a mirror that was positioned high up behind the bar. She used that to recon the room.
An older woman, slim and elegant, walked in and handed her coat to the maid. The maid's approach to the woman was fast and deferential. Yet the woman thanked the maid in what looked like a courteous manner, and then this woman swept to the bar. Though Linda had dropped her gaze, the woman seemed to zero in on her, and took up a seat next to her, though said nothing.
The bartender returned, and he too showed signs of deference. This woman with striking, perfect silver hair and a body that screamed daily workouts ordered a white wine, and only once it was returned, turned to Linda.
"So, you have the look of someone who is here for her first time," she said.
Linda turned to see this gorgeous older woman smiling broadly at her, wearing an expectant expression. She cleared her throat. "I am."
She nodded. "Nervous as a whore in church?"
Linda laughed, startled by the coarse language. "Yeah, pretty much. I'm Linda." She stuck out her hand to shake, and the older woman took it with a firm grip of her own.
"I'm Natalie," she said. "It's nice to meet you. If I may, what brings you in?"
Linda had been dreading this question. She had not found a suitable answer. And the way this silver-haired woman looked at her, with piercing eyes and that expectant look, she found herself tongue-tied in a way she'd not felt in years, at least since her middle school years. "I'm not sure," she finally forced herself to say slowly. "Exploration?"
"Well, it takes a lot of courage for a young woman to want to explore her sexuality, especially if it has...darker themes perhaps. I applaud you, and any lady, who wishes to set upon a path of self-discovery."
Linda blinked; the woman spoke in pronouncements. "Thank you," she said hoping that she sounded gracious.
"What brought you to this little neck of the woods?"
"Internet," Linda said.
"Ah," Natalie replied, nodding along in a slow, sage manner. "Hoping to discover on the internet as to what makes you burn, and now needing to find out for certain?"
Linda gulped reflexively. Then chuckled. "Here I thought I was being subtle."
Natalie had the good graces to politely laugh along. "I have a way of bringing the truth out of people. Some here say its my gift." She leaned forward, and spoke in a soft, confidential manner. Linda was forced to listen hard. "Some even say that I'm a witch." She laughed while returning to her more upright position on the stool.
"Because you know things?"
Natalie made a quick study of her hand, checking her nails. "I merely ask the right questions. It's up to the person to whom I'm speaking to find their answers within." She turned slowly, and faced Linda directly. "If I were to hazard a guess..."
Linda could not stop from jerking back a little. How in the blue fuck had she known that, so quickly? She felt the flush rush up her neck to her face, and if pressed in that moment, would have swore that her tongue swelled to the size of a lime in her mouth. But Linda also found herself nodding, and once she made the admission to another human, suddenly found it easier to speak it. "I've wondered if I was a lesbian since I was thirteen. But..."
Natalie patted Linda's knee. "Self-discovery is brutal, and if you lacked support and empathy at home, it makes it so much more difficult. You see, I knew that I liked women from a very young age, but my mother and father were supportive and understanding. It allowed me to blossom."
Linda had no intention of spilling those family secrets, of the raging, screaming fights between her and her mother, and between her and her father, that often ended in physical violence. Her father had tried to beat it out of her. Her mother had tried to church it out of her. Neither worked, and in fact instilled a rebellious streak in her a mile wide. Her father proclaimed loudly and often that women should never be in the military, he proclaiming this from his years of service and his one tour in Vietnam. So of course Linda joined the military, but not the branch that her father served - the Army - but in the Marines.
Had he been proud of his daughter? He had never said it. As she rose through the ranks, eventually becoming an E-6 NCO, he had never praised her. Always he had her lack of interest in men in the back of his mind. She had always thought hearing her being addressed as Sergeant Waters would please him, but never learned whether or not it did.
