by Madeleine Oh
Walking up to the door last time in blue jeans probably hadn’t helped either. Tonight she was wearing a long black dress and lacy shawl and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. With luck the wizened door keeper wouldn’t recognize her.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, a great long line of hopeful partygoers waiting to get in? Red carpet? Mercedes dropping off glamorous model types? Instead a small cluster of people waited at the door.
Adele joined the end of the queue just as an older couple got in line behind her.
The first couple went in and then the next. They’d had no trouble getting admitted. So far, so good.
It seemed the time of day had been her stumbling block before. The final couple ahead exchanged words with the doorman and his burly sidekick unhooked the velvet rope and let them in.
Adele took a deep breath and stepped up.
One look at her and the doorman shook his head. “Same answer as last time, Duckie. Members only.”
Adele actually had her mouth open to argue when Branko put his arm around her shoulders. “She’s with me, Arzhel.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” he asked, looking at Adele. “In you both go then. Sorry about that, Monsieur Branko.”
“Not at all, Arzhel. It’s your job to be careful.”
They were inside and the door closed behind them before she had a chance to ask Branko what the hell he was doing.
She got to that moments later.
“I’m getting you in here. Are you meeting someone? If so, they did a damn poor job of explaining how this place works.”
“You seem to know.”
He grinned, a smug, self-satisfied, so full-of-himself grin. “I do.” His hand in the small of her back propelled her to the right and a small kiosk. He picked up two black velvet masks and handed her one. “You might want to wear this. Most people do.”
So they went in masked. She understood why once they reached the floor below.
Dungeon was the word, a vast space divided into several areas. In one, a fair-haired man was strapped to a flogging bench and getting well laid into by a tall, black-clothed woman. Soft but eerie music played. Some stations were empty, others well occupied like the center stage where two naked women were fastened to upright frames while a woman and man flogged them alternately.
“Did you come to be a spectator or a participant?” Branko asked, sounding a trifle piqued.
“Neither. I came to—” A scream from the corner interrupted her. Branko waited, his hand still firmly in place in the small of her back. She could move away from him, but did she want to? Having Branko at her side would ensure she wasn’t approached by any hopeful would-be players but on the other hand, maybe someone here might know something. Except she somehow doubted casual conversation was uppermost on people’s minds.
“You came to do what?” Branko asked. “Get refused entrance and end up at a loose end on a Friday night?”
“No.” This was becoming awkward but she owed him for getting her in here. “Thanks for your help with that officious gnome at the door.”
“Arzhel? A gnome!” Why the hell did he have to have such a sexy laugh? “Not a bad description but I wouldn’t say it to his face.” She had no plans to. “But tell me, Adele, truly, why did you come? If you wanted this, why not say so instead of turning me down flat?”
Had she actually done that? Yes. She had. “I’m sorry, I would have liked to spend the weekend with you but I’d promised myself to…”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He was peeved. Understandable but still. “Branko, it’s not straightforward.”
“I’d pretty much worked that out for myself. Do you want to explain or not?”
Habit told her to refuse but deep inside she wanted to share this with someone. “It’s complicated.”
“For God’s sake, Adele! I can’t hang around and be put off like this. If you want to stay and play on your own, go ahead.” He turned to leave but she grabbed his arm.
“No, I’ll tell you but not here.” Not with the ever-increasing tempo of the floggers and now something far noisier starting up in the far corner.
“Is this place a bit too much for you?”
She halfway deserved that and she did owe him for getting her this far. “To talk, yes.”
“I can take care of that, come on.” He grabbed her hand.
At the far end of the room, another bouncer stood before a dark curtain.
“Monsieur?” the bouncer asked.
Branko angled his head toward the curtain. “Do you have a space for me, Jean?”
“For you, yes, of course, Monsieur.” He looked at a small handheld computer. “Room six is free and ready.”
“Thank you, Jean.” And before she could ask the whys, hows and wherefores, they were through the curtain and the door behind and into a bright corridor with stairs going up in both directions. Branko obviously knew where to go, so she followed him up the farthest staircase and down a hallway past a couple of closed doors to one that stood ajar.
“It’s quiet here and we’ll be undisturbed,” Branko said, as he closed the door and she looked around.
No mistaking what this room was for. There was a large bed with brass head and foot rails and manacle hooks already attached for ease and convenience, an upholstered chair, an assortment of toys and flagellation instruments laid out on a table and, bang in the middle of the room, a large whipping bench.
“We can play later if you like,” he said, “but first let’s talk.”
She looked around for somewhere to sit. It was either the bed, the single chair that was obviously not designed for comfort or relaxation, or the bench. She settled for the bench.
“Want a drink?” Branko asked. “They do a pretty reasonable champagne here.”
“Thanks, it might help.” But would one glass be enough? She’d kept this bottled up inside for so long she wasn’t sure she could talk about it. Why so hesitant? Looking for a father wasn’t that unusual a thing to do. Not compared with some of the goings-on downstairs.
He bought her over a glass and propped himself at the other end of the bed. “To secrets shared?” he asked and raised his glass.
She returned the toast and they both drank. Silence. It was up to her. “What I’m about to tell you may sound silly.”
“Can’t be that silly if you were willing to forgo a weekend of wild and wonderful sex with me to accomplish it.”
He had a point, aside from being so full of himself that she had to smile.
“I’m looking for my father.” There, it was out, and she hoped Maman wasn’t turning in her grave.
“You think he’s here? In this club? What’s his name?”
“His name is Jules Royer and as for being here, I found two addresses in my mother’s papers after she died. Both in Nice. One was an apartment building that has been completely renovated and was a dead end. The other was here or this street address at least.”
“You expected him to be here?”
“I don’t know. It was all I had.”
“You want to find him?”
She nodded. “It sort of became a goal. After my mother died, I had no one and my only clues were these addresses, so I applied for every likely job I could find down here. I couldn’t believe my luck when I got hired but I’m beginning to think I’m chasing after the impossible. For all I know he’s as dead as my mother.”
His arm came around her shoulders. The sudden, kind touch had her sniffing back tears.
“Need to cry?” Branko asked. “Scream, kick the walls, rail to the heavens? You can do all or any of them, these rooms are soundproofed.”
She had to smile at that thought. “No, that would waste energy. I had some silly dream that I’d walk in here, recognize him immediately or find someone who remembered him and it would all be storybook perfect. Stupid of me.”
“It’s not stupid to have dreams or hopes.”
“What about wishing for the
impossible?”
“Impossible things happen. I met you.”
He wasn’t being flirty or flippant. He was serious. Or seemed to be. “And I take you on a wild goose chase.”
“You could say that. I certainly wasn’t expecting you’d come here.”
“Thanks for getting me in anyway.”
“My pleasure. I’d suggest we stay for a pleasant encounter but perhaps you’re not so inclined?”
In her mind, no. She’d dedicated the evening—the weekend, come to that—to her search but now she was sitting thigh to thigh with Branko, her shoulder brushing against his arm. “I shouldn’t let myself get distracted by you.”
“Why not? Do you plan to keep on searching? Are you going to ask everyone here if they know your father?”
“Not everyone but surely the man at the door might know, or there must be a manager or someone like that.” Did she sound as desperate to him as she did to herself?
“Best not ask Arzhel when he’s working. I’ll ask him tomorrow, if you like. I can also have a word with Stephane, he’s what you could call a manager. They’ve both been here for years. If you father ever was here, they might remember.”
“If you could ask, I’ve be so grateful.”
“How grateful?” he asked.
She looked at Branko. Just meeting his eyes, feeling his thigh against hers and his arm around her shoulders stirred her need and brought back vivid memories of the night in her sitting room.
Her breasts ached but she reminded herself why she was really here. “Promise me you will ask them.”
“You have my word, Adele. I wouldn’t lie about this, nor would I make that sort of promise just to get you naked and helpless.”
“Who says I’m going to be naked and helpless?”
“I do and, most of all, so do you. You want that, don’t you, my dear?”
He was right. She was in need and he could ease that need. She reached out for his hand and he grasped hers. “I want to find him, Branko. Or at least know if he’s alive or dead. And I want to know why he left us.”
“I will do everything in my power to see that happens, Adele. Luc has resources and contacts that can help us too. Together we can do more than you can on your own.”
She didn’t doubt it. “Branko, I hate to pile my worries on you.”
“My dear, what I can do, I will do. It will be my pleasure.”
She leaned into him, feeling his strength and the hastening of his heartbeat. “I’m glad I came here and met you.”
“Glad enough to play?”
This was not how she’d planned the evening or the weekend but she trusted his word that he’d help, and she wanted him, wanted the security of putting him in charge. She lowered her eyes. “How do you want to play?”
She could picture his face with a wide, sexy smile of triumph. She had agreed to submit to him and he would play her body for their mutual joy.
“Get off the bench and sit at my feet and I will tell you.”
She was at his feet in an instant, resting her head against his knee as he stroked her hair. “Good girl, now listen carefully. I will tell you what I plan. You agree or refuse. If you refuse, we negotiate something else, understood?”
“Yes, Branko, but…”
“No ‘buts’ yet. Listen. I remember what you said about bondage and about belts. I will do nothing you don’t agree to in advance. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, Adele, we will stay here, in this room. When I finish, you will stand in front of me and strip naked while I watch. Once you are naked, I will examine you. You will permit me to and make no attempt to resist my inspection. I will not hurt you. When I am satisfied, you will kneel at my feet and fellate me. I will spank you a little, since you need that so very much and because you caused me so much anxiety. I want to tie you to the bed. Will you concede me this?”
Adele shut her eyes to think. Would she? She hardly knew him. Could she trust him that much? She was alone with him, in a room that was soundproofed. Once he made her helpless, he could do anything he wanted. But he’d promised that it would only be what she agreed to. Did she trust him? Damn, he was the only living person who knew about her father and her search. She’d felt safe enough to share that.
“Being helpless scares me, Branko.”
He caressed the back of her neck. “A little fear excites, my dear. Will you do this for me? Let me make you helpless before I fuck you? You will not regret it and if you like we can have a safeword. I will respect that if you say it.”
She was already alone with him in a closed room over a kinky dungeon. A step further wouldn’t hurt. Or rather it might hurt but it would be wonderful. “Yes, then I agree.”
His hand went motionless and she’d swear his heart beat faster and louder in the quiet. “What safeword?”
“My name, Adele Royer.”
“Good. So you agree to let me tie your arms down?”
“I do.” Her throat was dry but she got the words out.
“And then do I have your permission, when and how it pleases me, to take your legs, put straps around your ankles and spread-eagle you and tie down your legs, so you will be open, exposed and available to me and unable to resist me, whatever I may choose to inflict on you?”
He had some way with words. She had to take a breath to be able to reply. “Yes, Branko, you have my permission to do all that.”
“Are you aroused by my talking to you like this?”
Who was he kidding? “Yes, my nipples hurt and…”
“And what, Adele?”
“I’m aroused. I’m wet.”
“Wet? Without my permission? Oh Adele, that does deserve a spanking. And you will get one very soon.”
A sweet shiver crept up her spine and sent a shimmer of anticipation across her skin. This was so good. He was so good. She wanted, needed to trust him. “Please, Branko.”
“You please me first. Now stand and let me watch you strip.”
It was harder than she expected. She’d been as good as naked before, and it wasn’t as if he were her first lover. But standing just a meter from him, as he watched her every movement, was disquieting to say the least. Taking off shoes and pulling the dress over her head hadn’t been that hard, but he watched so intently as she unhooked her bra that she felt herself blushing.
She was down to just her panties when she paused and looked at him. His eyes were dark and glittering and he was smiling. Why wouldn’t he? She was about to stand naked before him and acquiesce to all his demands.
“Go on, Adele,” he said, his voice quiet. “Get those panties off or would you rather I tore them off your disobedient body and added a little extra to your promised chastisement?”
Now that was a thought. Maybe another time. She eased them down and stepped out of them.
He reached out and stroked her breasts, teasing her nipples until they were even harder and extra sensitive. He stroked her belly and then covered her bush. “Have you ever shaved your pubic hair?”
His question left her speechless for a moment or two. Better get her mind in focus. He wanted an intelligible answer. “I did once, for a lover who asked me to, but never again.”
“Why not?”
He wanted to know everything. “It itched when it grew back.”
“Waxing is better. Discourages regrowth too.”
“I bet it hurts too.”
“I would imagine so. Would you do it for me?”
“I’m not sure.” He wanted the truth, didn’t he?
“Think about it, there is a salon nearby that will do it most expertly.”
“I didn’t say ‘yes’.”
“I think you will, eventually.”
Damn his smug smile, he was probably right. When she didn’t reply, he stood and walked around until he stood behind her, his hand resting on her arse cheek. “Yes, Adele, I like you naked. If I had my way you’d never be permitted to wear clothes, but I will get you naked as often
as I can, that is a promise.”
It wasn’t a shiver, more a thrill of anticipation.
“Now,” he went on, walking around her slowly, “inspection time.” He stroked her shoulders, lifting one arm, then the other, as he ran his hand from her wrist to her neck. He caressed the curve of her hips and the softness on the insides of her thighs. A single finger traced a line down her spine and up again. He kissed each shoulder blade, then slapped her arse.
“Ow!” That had been unexpected.
“Hush,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s not time to make noise yet.”
She took a slow breath, determined not to make a sound next time he slapped. Only he didn’t, he stroked her arse and it wasn’t hard to imagine him comparing the red shape of his hand on one cheek to the unmarked one. Was he going to give her matching slaps like last time?
No. “Bend over,” Branko said, his voice almost a whisper in her ear. “Touch the floor if you can.”
Was he asking her to take up position for a spanking? No. Not yet anyway. He spread her arse cheeks, holding them open for a minute or two, long enough to be sure she felt truly exposed, then pressed a finger gently against her arsehole. “Have you ever been fucked up here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because I plan to do that to you. I’d like to spank you until your arse is bright red and throbbing, then open you up and push my hard cock in deep. Will you allow me to do that?”
Was he kidding? “Yes, but not tonight. You promised to spread-eagle me and fuck my cunt.” Or had he specified where he was going to fuck her?
“And I will, with your permission, of course, but first permit me a little indulgence. Maintain position.”
He walked across the room to a tallboy with many shallow drawers. He opened a couple and came back with his right hand gloved and a tube in his other hand.
He was going to penetrate her.
Chapter Nine
“I expect you to keep your balance, Adele, so brace yourself.”
In her experience, relaxing worked better, but she did brace her arms as he parted her arse cheeks and pressed lubricant into her. He took his time spreading the cool gel over and into her arsehole. Then came gentle pressure against her tight muscle. “Relax, Adele. This is going to happen, so don’t fight me.”