by Stark, Rhona
‘I love you, Cass, you know, and I just want you to be happy with whoever you end up with. Travis is a good guy, and dependable.’
‘Whoa,’ I said sarcastically, starting to fan my face with me hand, ‘dependable! It’s just what I dreamed of as a little girl, someone dependable to come sweep me off my feet.’
‘Trust me, there’s much worse things than a man who’s dependable,’ said Debbie.
‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ I said.
‘Let me know how it goes, OK?’ she asked, with a sincere look.
Now, normally on the way to a first date, I’d mentally replay all of the mistakes I’d ever made on a first date before, the agonizing slips of the tongue, the falls, the misunderstandings. Not today. Today I was confident for the first time. I almost felt as though I had nothing to lose. I thought about Beijing, tea leaves and handcuffs.
To my total and utter surprise, the steakhouse was kind of charming. It was more fancy than I’d thought it would be, and the décor was kind of tasteful, lots of dark colors and understated bling. I was a couple minutes late, and I wondered whether Travis would be waiting for me at the table already. To my surprise, he was actually waiting outside the restaurant.
The first thing that struck me was how big he was. I don’t mean overweight, or particularly tall, but he just seemed solid, like a block of wood. This guy must work-out, I thought.
‘Cassie?’ he said, looking at me with friendly blue eyes.
‘You must be Travis,’ I said. He went to shake my hand, but I felt lucky, so I went in for a hug. It was like embracing granite!
‘That’s me!’ he said. He was pretty handsome, objectively-speaking. And seriously clean-cut. This was the kind of guy that Walmart would use in a commercial for a pair of jeans.
‘Thanks for waiting for me,’ I said, ‘Sorry I’m late. I had to meet with Deb. She wanted to brief me on the evening. You know what she’s like.’
He smiled. ‘Believe me, I’ve had the briefing too.’ As we walked together into the bar of the restaurant, he carried on talking, ‘Whatever you do, Travis, don’t be weird. Don’t be boring.’ He was imitating Debbie’s slightly nasal voice. I found myself smiling, and almost laughed. ‘Whatever you do, Travis, don’t tell her about your wife.’
What the fuck?
It took me a couple seconds to realize that he was just joking.
Turns out, I got on OK with dependable Travis. The dinner was nice, and the wine was even nicer, and the conversation flowed relatively freely.
At first it was easy; we talked about the restaurant, the wine, our journeys there, we even talked about Debbie for quite a while. My mistake was asking him about his job. The conversation never really recovered after that. It wasn’t that it was boring, just that I was so uninterested in it. Does that make sense? I figure to someone else, it might have been fascinating. But to me…he might as well have been talking about one particular time he’d watched some interesting paint dry, or something.
That’s when I felt panic setting in, and had had to go with my old staples of first dates, questions like, ‘So, have you traveled much?’ and ‘What’s your favorite cuisine?’
‘Cuisine?’ he said, ‘I guess I never thought about it that much. Chinese maybe, Italian, I’m not sure.’
The questions and answers became more boring and less frequent, as it started to seem clear to me that we had less in common than I had initially thought.
It always struck me, during first dates, just how awkward conversation is between people who don’t know each other. Two people, strangers really, trying to get into each other’s heads, trying to work out if they had anything in common, if they were in any way compatible, as if that even meant anything. The whole of the rest of my life could depend on the questions and answers I gave in this meal, in these weird, stilted exchanges.
The only person who’d never made it seem like that, the only ‘first date’ I’d ever been on which hadn’t felt like some kind of school exam, had been the one in Room 901. I know you weren’t meant to think about other people on dates, but thinking about them was okay, right?
As I thought about Ms. X, the conversation must have dried up, because it dawned on me that Travis was just staring at me, and must have been for a while.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I must have just drifted off.’
‘It’s OK,’ he said, ‘sorry that I’m being so weird. I’m just nervous.’
I hadn’t really noticed him being that weird, he’d just seemed pretty nice to me.
‘I’ve never been on a blind date before. Debbie’s been bugging me to date you for a while, but I always get so panicky and weird around people the first time.’
I couldn’t believe that he’d been nervous too! He’d seemed to casual and relaxed.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ve been on a few blind dates, all of them suggested by Debbie, and let me tell you, you’re by far away the best. You haven’t insulted me, asked me straight up to have sex, asked if I’m a virgin, or made me buy an expensive bottle of wine yet.’ As I spoke he started to smile widely.
‘That’s lucky,’ he said. ‘You’ve been on some pretty bad dates.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but obviously I’m not meant to talk about that on a first date. It’s the rules.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘how about, just this once, we break the rules.’ He looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eye.
From that moment on, the date started to go much better. We started to relax with each other. Most of what we talked about was terrible dates that we’d been on in the past, but we talked about other stuff too. He asked about my job and my flat, my hopes for the future and my dreams. I learned a lot about him as well. Turns out he was a bit of geek, which I would never have guessed. He was obsessed with working out, which I did guess, but he was also into Star Wars and Star Trek (is there even a difference?) as well as lots and lots of other things too geeky for me to remember.
It was good conversation. It was nice. It was safe. It was like two platonic friends, chatting and getting on, without the stress of having to flirt.
After dinner, after dessert and coffee, I felt good. Not good in the same way that I’d felt good with Ms. X, but good in a different way. Relaxed. So when Travis asked me whether I wanted to go to a bar, get a night-cap, I thought that sure, why not? I was having fun, and another drink sounded good to me. Just because I was going to have another drink with the guy didn’t mean I had to make out with him. Ew. The thought of making out with him made me feel a bit funny, and not in a good way.
‘I’ll just go to the little girls room, and when I’m back, I’m good to go,’ I said.
I picked up my bag, and walked through the restaurant. My dress was tight around me and it made me feel powerful, as though I was taking control of my life.
Then, as I pushed open the door to the bathroom, I felt my phone vibrate in my bag. It couldn’t be her, could it?
If you’re free, I would very much enjoy your company in Room 901. If you can make it, please reply with an X, within half an hour. If you can’t I won’t be upset, and no extra punishment will be necessary. Let me know.
My heart started pounding. I couldn’t believe the timing. Just after I’d agreed to go for another drink with Travis. I’d so much rather go and see Ali! But I didn’t want to offend Travis… he was perfectly nice. Why spoil the end of a pleasant evening?
Ugh. Pleasant. Was I going to let pleasant ruin my chance of an explosive, passionate, incredible, life-changing night?
‘Travis, I’m so sorry to have to do this, but I’ve decided to head home. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.’
‘Oh,’ he said, looking a little surprised. He quickly recovered his calm veneer though. ‘Hey no problem,’ he said. He looked disappointed, and my heart broke a little bit for him. Oh, poor Travis, if only you knew I was off to meet my lesbian lover to engage in a little light sexual roleplay! At least, I think that’s what I was going to meet her for…
‘Look, I’ve had a great time,’ said Travis. ‘DO you want to meet me again?’
Oh god. I was so bad at confrontation. I hated letting people down. ‘Um. Sure,’ I said quietly. ‘Let’s arrange something soon.’
I was going to have to let him down by SMS. What a jerk. Oh well. I was too much of a pathetic wimp to do this face-to-face.
I felt bad as I walked to the subway, and I knew that maybe some people would think I was a bad person. It’s hard to describe how I felt. Totally intoxicated by lust for this mysterious woman, confident yet subservient. I felt like she was my Mistress.
I sent an SMS. One single X . Almost immediately, I received a reply.
Excellent. I shall expect you shortly. Prepare yourself for stern punishment. I haven’t forgotten your previous transgressions, young lady.
I felt a thrill as I stepped down to the subway, and tried to imagine what might await me in Room 901. But none of my wildest dreams could prepare me for what I was about to experience.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I barely thought about Travis on the way to the Plaza. The guilt of abandoning him had long gone. I don’t know why, but I was truly surprised when I received a message from him as I stepped through that grand entrance hall once more.
Thanks for tonight. Hope you meant it when I said you’d like to see me again. My wife says hello. Travis
I decided to forget about this for the time being. I had a punishment to take. Travis was sweet and all, in a nonsexual kind of a way, but this excitement was much sweeter.
As I waited in the elevator, I adjusted my dress. I was a little worried about what I was wearing. Last time, Ali had told me that I was to wear normal clothing, and tonight I was definitely dressed for a date. I hoped that she wouldn’t be too stern with me. At least I looked OK. My heart started to pound again in my chest, and I have to confess, the thought of seeing Ali again was starting to make me seriously wet.
When I knocked on the door to Room 901, the response was immediate.
‘You may enter.’
It’s amazing how strong of a feeling just being in that room again sparked in me. There was a particular smell, that made feelings of pleasure and delight come flooding back to me. I slipped off my coat, and hung it on the hook by the door.
‘Did I say that you could do that?’
I hadn’t noticed Ms. X, standing in front of the balcony windows. She was wearing an immaculate dark suit. Her collar was unbuttoned, and a loosely knotted tie hung down her chest. I’d never seen a woman wearing a tie before. It looked so hot! Somehow, it gave her a slight dangerous edge, and I felt melted by the searing heat of her gaze. I meekly shook my head, and looked down at the floor.
‘Quite right.’ She took a step closer to me. ‘I’d have thought that you’d do whatever you could to avoid further punishment, Ms. Rayne, but I can see that your attitude is as cavalier as always.’
If there was one thing I was learning, it was that I liked getting in trouble. I can’t explain what it felt like; it was as though being around her made me into some kind of hungry beast. I wanted to grind my legs together and rub my crotch with my hands, I wanted to rub my body on her, I wanted to tear her clothes with my teeth, growling, grabbing her fingers, pushing them up into my hot wet pussy. But all I could do was shake my head, look at the ground and wait to be told what to do.
‘Come with me. I’ve got something special to show you.’
She walked me through to the bedroom. The bed was made as normal, and there didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about it. There was no wine, there were no restraints, nothing at all out of the ordinary.
‘You see, Ms. Rayne, I’ve only showed you a small part of Room 901’.
I didn’t get it, I couldn’t understand how there could be more to show me. The room was quite small really, just a bedroom, seating area, balcony and bathroom. There was no door leading to another area.
‘I have to confess that I have more of a stake in this hotel than I initially indicated,’ said Ms. X, walking to the shelf of books next to the bed. I’d noticed them on the last visit, and hadn’t really paid them much mind. The titles were pretty innocuous, lots of finance books and stuff about investment, how to run businesses, that kind of thing.
‘I’m actually quite involved with the running of the Plaza, and have been for some years. I’m something of a consultant here, and I’ve helped with some of the financial growth of the company.’
Ms. X reached toward the spine of one of the books. Most of them were colored white or black, with the occasional brown or blue. But the book Ms. X reached toward was the only flash of bright color, a deep scarlet.
‘I don’t charge them a fee, however. Instead, I was gifted this room, and some extra space, to do with as I please. So, I created this.’
Are you serious? Has this woman got a freaking secret room in this place? What was she, a Bond villain?
She gripped the top of the scarlet book’s spine and pulled gently down. To my amazement, with almost no sound, the bookshelf swung away from the wall. Behind it was a corridor, leading downwards, lit only by flickering torches.
‘Welcome to the real Room 901. May I ask you to lead the way? But first, please remove your shoes.’
I did as she asked, slipping off my shiny blacks and putting them down next to the doorway.
The floor beneath my feet was cool, and when I looked down, it seemed as though the stairs were made from smooth, polished stone. It felt good against my toes, and I stepped down into the dim light. How had she made a modern building seem like a gothic castle? It was incredible!
The stairs were steep, and I had to be careful. My mind was racing with possibilities as I descended. What would be at the bottom? What kind of punishment was I going to receive?
‘You’re the first person I’ve ever brought down here.’ I heard her deep voice coming from somewhere behind me. ‘I hope that you like what I’ve done to the place.’
As we descended, the lights became dimmer. At first it was bright enough to make things out, but soon, I was struggling to see ahead of me. I had a sudden thought. Was I safe? She was taking me somewhere hidden away, and my phone was upstairs in my bag.
As I walked, it slowly dawned on me just how weird this relationship was. She’d not said anything about her time in Beijing, hadn’t even mentioned anything to me. I thought I was going to be allowed to talk this time. Was this even a relationship?
It wasn’t long before I reached the bottom of the stairs. It was so dark that I could barely see at all, but from the way the air felt, I guessed I was in a larger space. There was a clap from behind me, and gently, slowly, lights came on all around the space. What I saw took my breath away.
We were in a large room, but it was like no hotel room I’d ever been in before, or ever even seen before. There were no windows at all, in fact, it was kind of like a dungeon , I guess, and there was only one door, leading to the staircase. It was so difficult to believe this was a room in the plaza. It was lit by floor standing lamps set around its edge, but the light was dim, intimate. In the center of the room was an iron-framed bed. It was huge, and laid with immaculate white sheets. The bed-frame looked like an antique, but there was a figure carved into the headboard that made it unlikely to be very old; it was a nude female sculpture, crafted from the wrought iron, beautiful and slightly disturbing, too thin and long to be a real person, with generous breasts, and a mysterious expression. On the ceiling above the bed was a huge mirror. I gawped at the size of it, and was amazed by how small my reflection looked.
The walls were papered a deep red, an expensive-looking pattern that gave the space a dark, private feeling, and the floor underneath was carpeted with thick, warm, white shag. It was so soft and thick that it almost felt as though I was sinking into it. On the side of the bed was a dark wood chair, with a small white pillow on the seat. There was also a closet, a little way back from the bed, and a kind of couch that only had an arm on one side.
I nodded. Then I looked behind the bed. The wall at the far end of the room was a little too dim to make out clearly, so I took a few steps forward. It looked as though there were items attached to it. As I stepped further into the light, it became clear that there were lots of items hanging from the wall from large hooks. It took me a moment to work out what they all were.
‘It’s one of the finest collections of antique erotic equipment in New York,’ she explained. ‘Some of these pieces have tanned the hide of renowned burlesque performers, as well as wealthy socialites, and of course quite a few actresses you’d most probably have heard of. I’m extremely proud to be able to provide such a secure and fitting home for these items.’
It was definitely a wide collection. As well as the things I could recognize (whips, riding crops, cat-o-nine tails, gags, corsets, dildos) there was a huge amount of stuff that I couldn’t make head nor tail of. Strappy leather things. Rubber (and I mean lots of it!). PVC. Some of the things looked like medieval torture devices.
Hang on a minute. Was she going to torture me?
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘the punishment you’re due isn’t going to involve any of these devices.’ It was as though she could read my mind.
She strode purposefully over to the dark chair next to the bed, then sat straight down in it. She took a small white handkerchief from her pocket, unfolded it, and spread it over her legs.
‘Well, you disobedient girl, shall we begin?’ She tapped the handkerchief with her right palm. Did she want me to sit on her lap? Was this some weird Mommy fantasy or something? What was the handkerchief for?
I walked over to her, and sat down. She laughed for a moment, and then put her hand on my shoulder.