It wasn't until after she turned fifty-one that Lady Penelope Ward-Williamson openly embraced the 'Kink' community.
Before the global pandemic, there had been a great many sex clubs in London. Now, only a few had reopened to the discerning public after the virus had more or less been defeated.
Le Boudoir is still one of the UK's smartest lifestyle venues, where a world of naughtiness, sexual liberation, and debauchery hides in every corner.
With a fully licensed bar on site and with playful surroundings, one can go wild with abandon across no less than three floors of stylish rooms, including the infamous headmaster's room. There was a vaulted fetish room with play cubicles, glory holes, swings, a spanking bench, and St Andrew's cross. The loft is a seductive little play space with a mirrored ceiling and circular bed.
The main group room, is an open plan playroom with large beds and chaise lounges.
The exclusive club is a permanent central London venue located near Tower Bridge. For discretion, the full address is provided in a ticket purchase confirmation email. The strict dress code cannot be questioned, For the ladies, this meant being smart, sexy, chic, stylish, and most of all, daring!
For the gents, there must be no jeans, only trousers. A formal shirt, no sportswear or T-shirts. And definitely no hoodies or trainers. Doors open at 21.30 and the venue closes by 03.00.
Le Boudoir parties are for members only, and all are required to wear masks for added anonymity.
x
A week after Lady Penelope's fifty-first birthday, one of her dearest friends had surprised her with a belated gift. Her Ladyship had celebrated quietly at Williamson Manor, her inherited home in Surrey, with her close family only. She had no qualms about having yet another birthday, and regarded herself in the best of shape.
The renowned aristocrat had been blessed with an ample bosom that had not yet begun to sag. Any weight gain had gone to her backside, but that's all the rage nowadays. All the young people like a girl with a larger bum. Take Kim Kardashian and Demi Rose, although her Ladyship had a lot of ground to cover before she would catch up with those two. She was a lady of taste, a lady of style, and had a hunger for sex that knew no bounds.
Lady Petunia De Havilland, the renowned English brothel keeper, and party hostess, had called Penelope the day after her special day with the promise of an exclusive and debauched evening out. The brazen dominatrix was in her sixties, and had styled herself after Madam Cyn, who had been a likeminded whore back in the eighties. They both specialised in spanking and other forms of bondage and BDSM. Offering their services to all who paid the right price. Of course, Lady Petunia was not her real name, she named herself thus purely to impress people. In reality, she was plain old Deidre Birchwood. Despite her age, the woman was a pure Femdom goddess, able to whip anyone into shape in no time, turning even the toughest bosses into quivering sissy boys just begging for more discipline. She had a spectacular pair of perfectly designed 34 F cup tits that complimented her rock-hard figure to a tee.
"It's amazing. You'll love it. We won't use real names. We all wear masks. Condoms are optional. They have bowls of them all over the place. We can say no to whatever we don't want, and we say yes to whatever we do. If somebody is annoying, you tell an attendant, and the offending party is ejected. I've arranged and paid for a private function at Le Boudoir anyway, just for us. And a few special guests. It'll be a night to remember, trust me."
Her Ladyship had been thrilled at a night in a sex club. Since the untimely death of her wealthy husband, each passing month Penny had gone broadened her horizons where sex was involved.
"I simply must have a new dress."
"And a mask."
"Oh, yes. A mask. How exciting. Anonymous sex. Crumbs!"
x
"I want you to wait here until Lady Petunia and I leave the club. Is that understood, Perkins?"
"Understood, My Lady." Replied her chauffeur.
Exiting her Rolls Royce motor car, both lecherous MILF's walked up the short path to the discreet looking venue by the Thames.
Excitement rippled through Lady Penelope at the sight of it. The Sex Club's mystery made her blood pump faster and her nipples harden. Moisture already gathered between her thighs. The venue promised seduction, anonymity, and fantasy fulfillment. She had left her home with the promise to herself that something special would happen. Something that would make her feel alive.
The thrill mixed with a pang of apprehension as they were greeted at the front door by two of the hosts.
Petunia looked at Penny from behind her Venetian-inspired masquerade mask. One of her favourite designs, it featured a black intricate design of elaborate swirls and patterns which lined the arch of the mask and pulled attention towards her eyes.
"I take it you're up for this?"
The voluptuous blonde looked quite regal in her long velvet gown that had just the one shoulder, Along with an asymmetrical neckline, the formal dress had multiple straps across the open back that crossed in an adjustable corset detail. The slinky strappy-back had side ruching that contoured her sexy curves. A high side slit added a dramatic touch to the long skirt. Her lace eye mask was of a sexy cat, which Penny hoped would make her look more mysterious. The mask was even decorated with ears to give off a lovely cat vibe.
"Lead the way."
The older of the two shimmered in the harsh light in a long dress with sparkly iridescent sequins. The floor length gown had a deep neckline and sheer side panels, that showed off her colossal rack. The curve-hugging long skirt opened in a side slit before pooling into a dramatic train.
As they entered the main room, they mingled with their fellow guests who stood or sat sipping champagne. Penny was initially impressed. The various masked female guests girls had clearly put in an effort, with hair curled, and breasts plumped up in expensive attire. The men were all wearing crisp white shirts, black trousers and masks.
There must have been a hundred or so attendees, all chatting and getting to know each other, like they would at any other party. There were couples, single girls and single men. All completely normal people.
No way was this some sleazy parties filled with lecherous perverts or unseemly types. No, this event had been clearly vetted.
Ages ranged from early twenties to mid-fifties, and Penny had the impression that for the most part, the guests were just as curious and nervous as she felt. The two year pandemic and the lack of social meetings and parties was probably the reason.
