She nods thoughtfully and smiles. “Latex it is then. I've brought an outfit with me. A dominatrix shouldn’t go anywhere without her magic cloak.”
We finish up our lunch and head upstairs to get ready. Victoria seems to have commandeered the spare room, and as I walk in, I look around in shock. She’s already hung up two latex catsuits, one with dozens of zips and buckles, the other sleek with black satin ribbons as fastenings. She calls that her romantic catsuit.
Besides her outfits, she has brought her own furry throw for the bed along with a couple of cushions, and she’s draped the curtain rail with fairy lights.
“Erm, Vic, you moving in?” I ask, my hands on my hips as I turn to face her.
“What? You think you’re moving away, and I’m not gonna come stay? I may as well make myself comfortable!”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
I start laughing and wrap my arms around her, so thankful to have her in my life. I hold on that little bit longer, and she relaxes in my arms, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I miss you, you know,” she says quietly.
“You daft cow… I’m here. I’m not too far away,” I reply, my voice cracking with emotion. I miss her too. She got me through so much, holding me when I cried and cheering me on when I did well. She is the best friend I could have ever asked for.
“Right, come on. Let's get ready to go out. Best tits forward.” She exclaims as she pulls away and wipes a tear from her eye. "I do hope you won't be too disappointed if you don't find someone who fits your particular taste."
I shrug, a confident smirk on my face. "I'm sure there will be at least one or two who catch my eye. If Dominic says it's a good club, I trust him."
I switch on the music as I rifle through my wardrobe for the outfit I have in mind. My showtunes playlist starts, and I smile as Fiyero’s—'Dancing Through Life’ fromWickedcomes on, and I picture Jonathan Bailey and his slutty little glasses. No one is immune to that sexy image.
I dress in my black satin corset dress. The pencil skirt of the dress comes down to just below my knee, giving me a snug hourglass shape. The top of the dress has an off-
Yes, Miss
the-shoulder swathe of satin that wraps around my shoulders but dips down into the top of the sweetheart neckline corset that lifts my breasts into a deliciously plump swell. Its strong steel bones give a cinched waist with flared hips. The delicate black brocade satin and black satin ribbon lacing down the back add subtle elegant detailing. I wear my signature seamed stockings and black patent leather heels. My outfits always leave me feeling confident and powerful.
“You ready, sweet cheeks?” Vic shouts from the bathroom.
I walk out to the hallway and come face to face with a vision of black shiny latex, buckles, dark smoky eyes, and deep red lips. Vic is sexy as fuck when she is dressed up like this. If we weren’t both totally straight, I would be all over her like that latex catsuit. She wanted to join me today, as they do guest passes, and she likes the idea of a second playground.
I’m not entirely sure I’d enjoy my time at a club without her at my side. She’s my wingwoman. I love her like the sister I’ve never had. She’s my family.
She had helped me so much when I started at Plush. She taught me everything I know about becoming a Domme and helped me gain my confidence with sex after Matt. Being in control helped me and still does. She saw this in me and nurtured it gently. Victoria was the Domme people always pictured. She loves the latex, the chains and
Alexandra Ravensbrook
the whips. She loves treating men like dirt. You wouldn’t think it by the way she dresses outside the club, all sweetness and light and pretty dresses. Victoria is petite and elfin-like, with beautiful long dark hair and fine features.
She is a force to be reckoned with, though. God forbid you cross her.
I found my style over time with Victoria as my mentor. I can always talk to her about anything, bounce ideas off her, work through tricky situations, and cry when I need to.
I prefer being a sub’s goddess. I want control. I want to be worshipped. And let's face it, what woman doesn’t want to be worshipped in one form or another? I want to demand and give pleasure until he begs and pleads for me to let him come.
She links her arm in mine as we grab our coats and leave the house.
We arrive at the address given for the club. Not that you would know this place is a sex club. It’s a large, white, three-storey townhouse with stone steps leading up to a black gloss door with a traditional brass knocker. There are no signs or advertisements anywhere. Nothing to give the place away. Upon closer inspection though, the brass knocker turns out to be a hand holding a coiled whip. Clever.
Yes, Miss
We rap on the door with the whip knocker and wait.
The door opens, and a smartly dressed woman greets us with a bright smile and steps back, ushering us in.
“Please, come in. I’m Chloe, your hostess for this evening.”
