by Tia Lewis
"Yeah. Alright. You three are cleared to enter." He spoke in a husky echo.
“Yay!" Theresa beamed.
“Thank you, sir," I nodded and gave a sigh.
Theresa and Mariah both grabbed me by the arm and led me into the long, dark hallway that led to The Twisted Sanctuary. A name I didn't realize would become part of my normal vernacular in time.
Chapter Three
We walked into the lounge of The Twisted Sanctuary after the bouncer pointed to the entrance to a whole other world as my giggling and excited friends beside me pushed and guided me in. Their eagerness to explore this new club before us a stark contrast to my unease as I felt my high heels click down upon the stone floor beneath me. Was I dragging myself behind because I was worried about what I'd find inside? I thought. I mean it's called The Twisted Sanctuary, for fuck's sake. I couldn't say. But the pressure of Theresa's hand on my wrist continued to assault my senses and my mind as she looked back at me with strands of her blond hair trailing along the side of her face.
"Come on, Jess. You're so slow!" she called out in a laugh as Mariah stopped to stand beside me, taking my other freed arm in hers. We moved down in lockstep, entering into a cloud of thick, choking smoke as the hum of pulsating music grew louder.
I couldn't help but force a smile on my face for them both. I loved my friends, but I cursed myself now for having let them talk me into coming here to try out this new club.
Mariah and Theresa continued to speak quickly to one another, and I let the sound of their voices die off into the distance as I looked all around the club. The dark, stone cold flooring giving way to a plush red carpet now, with velvet walls lined with photo and posters.
“What the hell?" I squinted at the pictures on the wall when I realized it was an image of people in leather outfits, some chained, some collared.
Some even immensely enjoying themselves.
As the thud of the music hit me and reverberated through my body like a shockwave I came to the conclusion that this wasn't an ordinary club where teenagers snuck in, and typical high-class rich people spent their evenings… but a BDSM club.
My friends brought me to a sex club called The Twisted Sanctuary that was located in the underbelly of New York.
The surprise came sudden to me, as it was the least thing I expected from them. I turned to Mariah and gave her a nudge. The sound of the music and a bevy of lights was starting to drown out my thoughts as I tapped her shoulder to get her attention.
My muscles tightened as I inhaled to regain what I lost. My eyes looked from the laughing, joyful faces of my friend toward the chaos below. People of all kinds were there, separated by three distinctly different sections. The main section, which was the hub of activity stood down in a pit of sorts as people dressed in a myriad of different clothing danced, twirled and ground upon one another. The smell of sweat, desperation, and sex assaulted my nose, thick like a musk and unmistakable. Primal in its need.
The second section I noticed was distinctly different from the first, and closer to the bar area. More people of all kinds, some in leather costumes, while others appearing more average in blue jeans and T-shirts mingled with one another. The bright neon lights of the bar attracted those that sought out food, drinks or company. Bright lights of red and blue standing from the standard black décor that dominated the interior of the building.
The third section I also noticed stood behind thick, heavy curtains that led off into the back. The simple words "Cave of Pain and Pleasure" emblazoned in the dark above the curtains. My imagination ran wild with what was behind those curtains, and whether or not the smell of sex that assaulted me before came from the floor, or there.
I inhaled it all deeply. Despite my fear of the unknown, the scent of a different world in some way excited me. My heart started to beat quickly in my chest, pounding in a heated pace against my diaphragm as I could feel my senses heightened. Was I really going to do this with Mariah and Theresa? I thought. Was I really going to be here in this place of strange lights, sounds, smells, and people? A world I don't truly feel comfortable, but at the same time, wanted to try?
"So, Jess. What do you think?" the sharp words of Mariah brought me back to reality as my mind focused less on thoughts of what if's, and on the now's. I gave my head a quick shake to clear my head and turned to look at her.
Mariah was looking at me, her blue eyes shining bright with both questions, and confirmation to what she hoped was my current thoughts on the surprise that she and Theresa had.
There was no backing out of this now as I simply sighed and forced a slight smile to my face.
"How long have you two been planning to come here?" was all I could think to ask. Better for my friends now to come clean I suppose.
"Let's just say... we've had a little bit of fun here before." Theresa giggled as she stepped forward and guided Mariah and me over to the bar. The sound of laughter, hushed words of acceptance, and unspoken gazes of desire lingered all around and felt like a wall of tension building up all around us. The essence of mingling separating us from the doorway as other patrons of the club came and went. Some with company, some without.
I rose my brow to the answer that Theresa gave me as we found a small seat that separated us from the crowd. Sliding into the rounded bench we encircled the table, placing our open arms down upon the smooth oak. We displayed ourselves like goods or services to the other club goers. Myself stuck in the middle, apparently still not trusted to stay instead of flee back to the comforts of home or our familiar and favorite.
“I'm not going to run away you guys," I giggled.
“We're just making sure," Mariah replied.
"I didn't think a place called "The Twisted Sanctuary" was somewhere you'd go, Theresa."
Smiling, Theresa continued. "There's a lot about me you don't know, Jess."
“I bet," I playfully shook my head.
My eyes closed for the moment, feeling the beating of the music off in the distance as it echoed through me like a drum. Suddenly, I felt Mariah's hand touch me as she vouched for Theresa's words.
"You really should give this place a try, Jess. This isn't like regular clubs. You'll have fun."
"Time to live a little, huh?" I adjusted my dress. “I'm still young. Hot. I still got it."
“That's right, girl! You're the sexiest divorcee I know." Mariah nodded.
“Thanks." I rolled my eyes and smiled.
“Just dance with someone for a bit. Get a drink. Chat up a sexy guy."
"Or..." Theresa giggled as she leaned in and I could almost feel her lips against my ear.
"Or?" I responded, not leaning away just yet.
"Or you can find out what's behind those curtains back there."
I blushed as I looked from her and back to beyond the bar area toward those heavy curtains. The entrance to the Cave of Pain and Pleasure standing beckoningly, almost as if it was a dare.
"What's back there?" I ventured the next question out as my eyes darted from it and back to Theresa. She looked at me with those grinning features on her beautiful face. Strands of her hair falling out of place from behind her ear as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"That's for you to find out," was all she had said before Mariah giggled as well.
"This is your night Jess. You need it."
I thought for a moment as time seemingly slowed down and I weighed my options within me. It all started to seem so different from how I planned, but the more they spoke of what this club had to offer the more I seemed to fall for the idea. What if I did meet someone for a one night stand? What was the harm in that? It was finally my time to live life fully without my ex-husband, and I was actually looking forward to it.
That deep, carnal lust within me overpowered my thought process as I bit my bottom lip. That needy needling feeling that burned within my belly as the primal part of my mind echoed out in desperation. Here I was, at The Twisted Sanctuary built around sexual gratification and I was just going t
o deny myself what it offered? My friends were right, after all, it was time to live a little. I was still young and attractive. Maybe this was my chance at something for myself for once.
So I nodded my head and smiled, and finally accepted my fate.
"Alright, girls. I'm going in!" I declared, and both Mariah and Theresa rose their arms in a celebratory whoop that was drowned out by the rhythmic thumping of the electronic music.
"Good. First things first? Mingle!"
I looked back to my left toward Mariah as I stammered a little bit first, my courage quickly dissipating as I realized I didn't know how to mingle properly anymore.
"Why don't we get ourselves a few drinks first? Maybe that might give me a little bit of courage?"
Neither of them could argue with that as Theresa slowly slid from the circled bench as she giggled in response. Her purse already in hand.
"You're lucky you're sexy as fuck, Jess. I'll buy us a round of shots."
Several moments later that involved a chat with the bartender, a waitress in a slimming leather dress, and all three of us had our drinks on hand. Several rows of crystalline shot glasses were placed in front of us with a sweet, tantalizing liquid within. Red, dark, and mysterious. The shots that Theresa brought smelled of sugar, fruit, and tequila.
I didn't get the full name of them, and personally, at that point, I didn't really care much for their name as we celebrated my newfound resolve to enjoy the evening. Bringing up each of the glasses that we had; four in total for each of us, enough to start and lubricate the fun and exciting evening for us. We brought our glasses together, clinked them with a laugh and gulped the liquor down. Each shot made my vision obscured by both my black hair as it fell from my bangs, and the darkness of the ceiling above as the evening continued to be clouded in dark lights and interiors.
We teased and dared one another to approach different men that came up to our table. Mariah was seeing someone, sure, but that relationship was open to the world. Theresa was still feeling she was in the prime of her life and wanting to enjoy all that life had to still give while she was still hot blooded.
One man lingered nearby our table dressed in a tight leather jacket with matching pants. He was tall with dark, smooth skin shown all along his exposed chest, to his stubbled face. Dark, mysterious, and someone who appeared to take good care of himself. Theresa dared Mariah to approach him. She downed a shot, invited the man over and before she knew it, was whisked away from our table toward the dance floor. She was lost in the endless sea of rhythmically gyrating bodies as they energetically ground against one another, bound and determined to burn off their excess desires.
Another man stood nearby our table who caught Theresa's eye. Having come in a simple black T-shirt and jeans that hugged his form, he occasionally looked at our table with a wink, a raise of his cup beckoning one or both of us to approach him.
“That's all you, girl."
“Me?" Theresa finished the last of her shots. Slamming the shining cup down on the table top with a loud click of glass on wood.
“Well, he's staring right at you," I giggled.
"Really? You don't want him?" Theresa asked, leaning in to nudge me as I shook my head.
“Go." I urged her on while I sipped the fruity concoction instead of downing it, preferring to savor its taste first. I hope with my friend's abandonment, I could truly be free to work up my own courage instead.
"You're not going to just sit there all night are you?" Theresa asked, looking back to me with that half sly smile she tends to have when she thinks she knows me better than me.
Except in this instance, maybe she did.
"No. Maybe? I'll go to the bar. Maybe I'll do some of that mingling you mentioned."
"Jess. You know you don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable doing," Theresa spoke, serious in tone for once tonight.
Her words struck me, and I supposed she was right. I bit my bottom lip briefly before I laughed off the seriousness of the moment and pressed my palms against her, lightly pushing her forward to get out of the chair and go have her fun for the evening. She deserved it for buying us the drinks.
"Theresa. You better go before you lose your prey." I teased.
That brought her smile back as she sighed and moved to stand.
"He looks like he's packing too," she winked. She made her way forward with a confident strut to her swagger. Her hips swaying from side to side as I watched her approach the man. Their words drowned out by laughter, voices, and music as I continued to lightly sip till the drink I had was gone.
Thirty minutes later, Theresa seemed to have won her prize for the night. A hand upon his shoulder, his hand on her hip, a whisper to each other, a drink shared between them. Her looking back to me with a wink, and before I knew it, she was whisked away by him, guided with his hand back to the Cave of Pain and Pleasure.
A sense of jealousy rose up in me after that, as I realized what the Cave might really be—private rooms.
Maybe now I should put my money where my mouth is, I thought as I clicked the shot glasses over onto the table to indicate my finished state with them. Maybe I should start to mingle now instead of latching onto my friends for entertainment tonight.
What was the worst that could happen?
Chapter Four
The night was still young, and so was I. I slowly rose up from my seat, and the heady rush of the alcohol swam up along my mind, hazing my vision for a moment as its delayed response had finally hit me. I wasn't feeling too drunk however to have a little bit of fun. The top of my head might have felt fuzzy, but my intention and desires were clear.
I smiled in spite of myself and made my way over to the bar to talk and see who was there I could find to give me company.
The sort of men that were there were already engaged in conversation with interested partners. Some there with a small crowd, standing off together and talking, some already there finding people to pair up with.
It was a BDSM club, and people were there in their outfits to play the part. Some more casually than others, while others seem to have been there in more formal attire. Some appearing to be businessmen who enjoyed the nightlife with either a younger crowd or a more sensual of sort. Men in suits who chatted up with women in tight clothing, cajoling them into their laps and offering drinks. The kind of action I wasn't ruling out as a possibility for my evening if I truly wanted more attention. Some women who were dressed in suits as well, but who appeared to command more respect than the others, their men in tow behind them with the leashes invisible, but evident to who was in control.
I smiled as I relaxed. This couldn't be too bad I thought as I took a seat at the bar. Sliding my rounded rear up along the leather cushions. Luxury for me that I could feel through the thinness of my black dress.
I clicked my red painted nails on the counter in a little rhythmic thud, and the bartender quickly returned. A smiling man with swept-back hair, who's had the sleeves of his buttoned shirt rolled back all along his forearms. Professional, I thought as I tried to place the sexiest smile I could on my face while I leaned in, and placed my drink order. A simple fruity cocktail. Something delicious that would last me the evening.
He winked, which only elicited a blush from me, and a few moments later I had the first desire of the night fulfilled: more alcohol.
Turning in my seat, I waited for attention to come to me, and I wasn't left alone for long.
Though most of who approached me didn't interest me in the slightest as I sat there, attempting to look the part of the queen of the night. Bringing one of my smooth legs up and over my thick thigh, cheekily exposing all along the side of my leg toward the swell of my hip. Dangling my heeled foot with a light little wiggle; boredom seemed to attract men like flies, putting their ego on the line to attempt to keep me from being exactly that.
It was how I attracted my ex-husband Nick after all, so many years ago.
But I put those thoughts aside as one man came after another
tried to garner my attention. Some covered in the sweat from the dance floor, giving off an overpowering musky scent that turned me off as I didn't want to spend an evening with someone who smelled of a locker room. Some men who were older than me and who were clearly only here to assuage their own desires for an evening, and believed wrongly I was here just for them. Men who were more like my ex-husband that instantly turned me off.
Then there were some younger men who thought of me as some sort of cougar and those who thought of me as a damsel, and while I thought the princess act was sweet, it wasn't something that I was interested in.
The night continued to wear on, though, and I realized after a while that I had fully lost both Mariah and Theresa for the evening. Both of whom I was sure I hadn't seen for several hours at this point. The glasses beside me piled up, continuing to bathe my mind in their delicious fluids of rum and vodka. I became friends with the bartender, or so I thought, as he exchanged one drink for another without a word.
By the end, I almost gave up as I sighed and slowly leaned back in against the smooth countertop behind me. My dark hair pooling down all around me in a black wave of sorts, cascading downward like a silken waterfall. My thighs ached from being used as a distracting tool to attract, and I slowly settled down. Everyone else continued to pair off and I almost gave up hope of talking to someone who I felt was interesting enough to keep my attention.
Maybe my standards were too high?
That was a possibility I reasoned with myself, as I slowly moved to sit up further. Biting at my bottom lip once more.
Just when I thought perhaps it was best to just pay my tab, give my tip to the bartender, sulk home and exit this mysterious and erotic world and head back into my mundane life, someone sat down beside me. I heard the familiar fluff of leather, and the soft, lilting words of a voice edged hard in masculinity.
"First time here?"
I turned and looked in the direction of a man that by all accounts seemed better than the average that milled about the club. Even though he was sitting down, I could tell he was tall, standing by what I accounted to be around over six feet tall at least. He had a simple hair style cut short, but slicked back soft black hair all along his head, mixed in with a soft outline of stubble that appeared to be well kept, rather than a product of laziness.