Page 17 of Nun’s Prayer

I entered a large entrance hall—a cloakroom. A woman rose from a couch and took my coat, while another offered me a glass of champagne.

“Lady Mildred is through there,” she instructed, pointing at the only open door.

“Thank you,” I murmured and went into a small, opulent drawing room. Imagine wood panelling, intricate carvings, and a decorative ceiling, and you were on the right track. Sitting in front of a fire was an older lady, richly dressed.

“Are you here for the party, my dear? Care to present the raffle ticket?”

I did as asked, and Mildred smiled. “Young people nowadays, it’s so very kind of you to visit with me, but I love to hear merriment. Here, would you like a band?”

Mildred offered me four types: red for dominant, yellow for submissive, purple for new to the lifestyle, and black for a switch. I picked the black to show I was a switch, but yellow for tonight, and Mildred smiled.

“Such a sunny colour, and my favourite. There’s nothing quite like it. Antony, escort our guest to the party.”

Antony opened a door, and I passed through.

It was a former ballroom, turned into a bar. Smoke (fake) wafted about, and the lights were dim. I was shocked at how packed the club was. Sofas and tables were dotted around with guests sitting, talking, or watching.

This was the meet-and-greet area, where you could watch and choose a partner. Some public displays were happening, and I decided to get the lay of the land. On a raised platform, a woman was strapped to a St Andrew’s cross as her dom flogged her. Another stage held a man bound in Shibari. His mistress gently ran her hand over each knot, and his cock strained, dripping for her attention.

Around me, people sat on couches, talking and making out.

I caught sight of a wide-eyed newcomer and smirked at her getting a lesson tonight. I was a switch, basically someone who swapped between dominant and submissive. But this evening I needed to hand over control. I spotted a familiar figure winding through the crowd. Nun.

My cock reacted immediately. She wore heels, those knee-high stockings and a short-as-hell nun’s outfit. It screamed sex and power.

On a leash followed a man. Fuck, she was a mistress. The guy was stripped to a pair of tight leather shorts, and he padded behind her. Nun’s eyes met mine, and she paused, her gaze flicking to my wrist. I dropped my chin and submitted.

“You.” Her voice silenced those around us, and I lifted my head slightly.

“Mistress.”

“Come with me,” she ordered. I willingly followed. Christ, right now I’d follow her into hell. She passed through a set of double doors at the end of the ballroom, where two people waited. Another couple sat there waiting.

“Are all the rooms full?” she asked, pausing.

“No, ma’am. The cleaners are in blue two and gold five.”

“Good.” Nun kept walking, leading the guy and me down a flight of steps into a basement level. Fuck, how many playrooms existed? She opened a door and stepped aside, letting us enter.

“Blue, nadu,” she ordered, dropping the leash.

Blue knelt facing her and sat backwards on his heels with his legs spread wide. His back straightened, and his gaze rested on Nun as his palms lay upturned on his thighs.

“You, strip naked,” she commanded me.

My cock was screaming already; I’d never been so aroused before. I placed my clothes neatly on a chair and waited.

“Assume the wall,” she instructed.

I immediately turned and faced the wall with my legs wide apart. My arms lifted above my head, and I crossed them at the wrists and pressed my palms to the wall. I leaned forward slightly, bracing myself.

“You’re beautiful,” Nun murmured from behind me. A soft hand touched my back as she ran it down me. “Did you fill in a form?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Name?”

“Priest, Mistress.”