I walk through a few rooms, threesomes, rough sex, the usual staples at a BDSM club. And a few scenes I really didn’t care to see tonight like a woman shitting on an old guy’s chest and forcing him to eat it. That nearly made me lose the dinner I skipped earlier.
I’m tired, disoriented, and starting to think I’ve completely lost the boys.
As I round the corner onto a new floor, the silence strikes me instantly.
No music. No moaning. Nothing.
This might be a good place to stop and catch my breath.
I scan my card, watching the light flash green before stepping inside. I expect an empty room but instead, I’m greeted by an unexpected scene.
The space glows with soft red under-lighting, casting shadows over an array of scattered sex toys. Among them, a massive hanging apparatus dangles ominously, its design practically inviting the kind of wild play that requires at least three participants.
But it’s the spotlight in the center of the room that pulls my focus. There, a petite woman kneels on the floor, completely naked, utterly still, and tightly bound. A folded piece of paper is clutched between her lips, her posture rigid with quiet obedience.
I linger by the door, noticing several others kneeling with leashes around their necks, their gazes fixed intently on something—or someone—I can’t quite see in the dark.
“Don’t be shy. Come inside.” A figure looms in the shadows, too far from the light for me to make out who it is.
A second later, the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor fill the space before she finally comes into view.
Clad in black lingerie with spiked straps that coil around her body like armor, and knee-high leather boots that climb past her thighs, she exudes dominance. She’s the master, and they are nothing more than slaves to her will.
Not going to lie, I’m a tad jealous right now.
The entire set up is sort of beautiful—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, now on his hands and knees, gazing up at her with a mix of reverence and fear. His full trust is with her, as his polished shoes press into the cold floor, his hands probably trembling a little as he waits for her next command. They’re all looking at her, around five of them as far as I can see.
Funny how on the outside, looks and roles can be so deceiving. But on the inside, when it’s dark and no one’s watching, our true selves emerge—the parts we hide from everyone, even ourselves at times. The raw and unfiltered versions of us. The ones we keep buried, locked away for a time—some even forever, because facing the monsters living inside our heads can be far more terrifying than hiding behind secrets.
But not this femdom. She doesn’t hide. She thrives in the spotlight.
She’s a blend of beauty and dominance.
There’s an artistry to it, a dance of control and surrender that I find impossible to look away from. I’d never be able to do it, not to this extent but I can admire it.
“You’re a pretty little thing. Do you want to play with my toys, or maybe I can add you to my collection?” She approaches me, a curious smile on her lips.
“I’m flattered but I’m sort of in the middle of a game myself.”
She raises a brow. “Oh?”
I hear the scanner before the door opens.
My heart thumps loudly in my chest the minute I see him walk in.
“There you are,” Julian calls out excitedly.
The door closes behind him, no sign of the other two.
“More players! How wonderful. Isn’t it wonderful, my precious things? Stand on your knees and clap for our new guests.”
The femdom’s subs do as she says, all sitting up on their knees simultaneously and clapping. She walks behind them, whipping each of them on the back of the bum.
“Are you considering joining them?” Julian whispers from behind me.
“No. I just got here.”
She turns and walks right up to Julian, inspecting his mask closely without saying a word. Like her intimidating presence would make him want to show his face. Julian doesn’t flinch or step back. He stands tall, looking down at her with his carbon mask.
