"I wanted to give you time to acclimate," he continued, voice low. "To breathe. To look around without feeling like you have toperform." His gaze held mine. "Todd will understand. Everyone here understands."
I scooted closer, stealing his warmth.
"Thank you," I said softly.
He lifted my hand, brushing his lips across my knuckles. "Always."
We sat for a while, my attention wandering the room. A woman in a latex dress curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, her head resting in the lap of a man who stroked her hair absently while scrolling through his phone. On one of the beds, two men lay facing each other, foreheads touching, speaking in voices too soft to hear. The girls in the pink corner had moved on from the squishy toys to braiding each other's hair.
It was... oddly domestic. Tender, even.
Not at all what I'd expected.
"What are you thinking?" Damien asked.
I considered the question. "That this isn't what I pictured."
"What did you picture?"
"I don't know." I chewed my lip. "Darker, maybe. More... intense."
A smile tugged at his mouth. "The intense parts are further in."
"What intense parts?"
Damien's smile deepened. "The play room."
My pulse climbed. "Play room?"
"Similar to mine, actually. You'll recognize some of the furniture." He shifted beside me, angling his body toward mine. "St. Andrew's crosses. Spanking benches. Suspension rigs. Some things I don't have—cages, medical tables, that sort of thing."
I swallowed. "And people just... use them? In front of everyone?"
"That's the point." His voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "Some people prefer an audience. Others like to watch. It's all consensual, all negotiated beforehand."
"But no sex," I clarified.
"No sex," he confirmed. "Impact play. Bondage. Sensation work.Power exchange." He ticked them off like items on a grocery list. "But genitals stay covered. Always."
I fidgeted with the hem of my dress, processing. "So like... spanking and stuff?"
"Among other things."
"Like what?"
He studied me, a question moving behind his eyes. "Do you want me to describe it? Or would you rather see for yourself?"
A jolt ran through me.
The smart answer was no. The safe answer waslet's just stay here on this lovely couch and watch people braid each other's hair.
But—
"Show me," I heard myself say.
Damien rose, extending his hand. "Stay close to me. And if it's too much—"
"I'll tell you." I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. "I promise."
