‘The Plough? The biker place?’
‘I assume so.’
‘What sort of event? My mind’s boggling.’
‘Well, I don’t really know. She called it a munch.’
‘A munch? Sounds like a lesbian supper club. Is she a lesbian?’
‘I don’t…know.’ This hadn’t occurred to me. Was she viewing our communication as flirtation, and our meeting as a date? I could be getting into deeper waters than I’d anticipated here. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Sounds like you might need backup. Is this munch open to the public?’
‘Well, it’s in a pub, so…’
‘I’ll take myself down to the Plough, then, and try to join in. But you have to pretend you don’t know me. Otherwise Katie’s going to wonder.’
‘OK,’ I said gratefully. ‘That sounds good. I’m going to meet up with her for a drink beforehand, but we haven’t decided on a venue yet. Maybe Angelino’s, on the harbourside? It’s only five minutes from the pub.’
‘OK. Well, I’ll lurk in the vicinity, then follow you to the Plough, yeah?’
‘Sounds good. See you there.’
‘See you there…Ella?’
I paused before pressing the red button. ‘Yes?’
There was a silence. Was he building up to saying something momentous? My heart skipped.
‘Oh…just…take care. Enjoy the rest of the show. Night.’
‘Sweet dreams,’ I said, ending the call and pressing the phone to my bosom.
Chapter Six
Since I had no idea what a munch was, it followed that I had no idea how to dress for one. I had to text Katie for her advice – was a collar and six inch stilettoes de rigueur? She texted back:
Lol, no! Wear what u like. It’s just an informal get 2gether of like minded ppl.
Ah, that clarified matters. Now I wanted to stick with my usual weekend uniform of black jeans and hoodie, but I’d suggested Angelino’s for the pre-munch drink, and that definitely wasn’t a jeans and hoodie kind of joint.
Instead, remembering that Tom would be there and anticipating what might come later, I chose a black jersey skater dress and wore lacy stockings underneath. With black patent Mary Jane shoes to finish I looked flirty and sexy and thoroughly in need of a good spanking. I batted my eyelashes at myself in the mirror, then picked up my shoulder bag and headed out to adventure.
I had misjudged the dress code at Angelino’s, it seemed. Virtually everyone in there – nearly all groups of women with large shiny shopping bags clustered around their ankles – was wearing jeans. But not the kind of jeans I wore. Expensive, fashionable jeans with scarves and lots of gold jewellery and gold highlights.
I stuck out like a sore bum.
I wished I felt daring and scandalous, but I just felt a bit of a tool, sashaying around the place in my sexy stockings, looking for Katie.
I spotted Tom before I found her, so my heart was drumming and my cheeks were flushed by the time I homed in on an almost intimidatingly elegant woman nursing a tall glass in a corner booth.
She, too, had received the memo about the expensive jeans and silk scarves. Why had nobody sent it to me? I put my arms straight at my sides to try and temper the flounciness of my skirt and stood, feeling gawky as hell, waiting for her to notice me.
She looked up from her phone immediately and smiled a rosewood-lipped smile.
‘Are you Ellie?’
I nodded stiffly, still keeping my palms flat on my flanks.
She stood up and it became alarmingly clear that she was an air-kisser. I leant forward just far enough to get a divine blast of her perfume along with the smack of her lips, opening and closing my own mouth in imitation. I wasn’t sure I’d aimed right – I seemed to do no more than breathe on her ear – but she sat straight down, still smiling. She obviously hadn’t got the axe-murderer vibe from me. Yet.
‘I’ll grab a coffee,’ I said after an awkward pause, and I sloped away to the counter to grab myself something as full of sugar syrup as possible. If only they did liqueur coffees here. Dutch courage was definitely called for – but it was going to have to wait for the pub.
No sooner had I taken my place in the queue than Tom appeared at my shoulder.
‘That her?’ he said in a strangely tight voice.
I spun round, concerned, but it soon became clear that the weird tone was down to him speaking out of the corner of his mouth like a film noir gumshoe.
‘Don’t look at me,’ he hissed. ‘We have to be strangers, remember?’
‘Don’t come and talk to me then,’ I muttered in a similar fashion. ‘Yes, it’s her. First contact has been initiated, and all that.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ he muttered back, taking a macaroon from the display and leaving a pile of coins on top of the glass case.
The barista appeared not to notice and took my caramel macchiato order without comment.
Self-possession had returned to me by the time I reached the table.
‘I really wasn’t sure what to wear to a munch,’ I said apologetically, gesturing at my dress after putting the drink down.
‘Really, don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘It’s really cute. The tops’ll be all over you.’
‘Oh, my God, will they?’ I pictured a menacing leather-clad crowd slapping paddles into their open palms as I cowered in their midst.
‘Not literally,’ she said with a laugh. ‘They’re very gentlemanly, on the whole. Lovely manners. But you’ll get some attention. New bottoms are always highly prized.’
I snort-laughed over my coffee at the concept of ‘new bottoms’, imagining an umpire calling for them, Wimbledon-style.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s really hard to think of myself as…a bottom.’
Katie’s smile was tolerant. ‘You’re a real newbie, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘You’ll get used to all the terminology. It does seem like a different world at first, but you soon feel part of it all.’
‘Did it take you long?’ I asked. ‘When did you get into all this?’
‘About five years ago,’ she said. ‘I was like you, completely clueless. I mean, this was even before Fifty Shades, so it wasn’t in the public consciousness, so to speak. Just mine. At least, that was the way I felt – like the onliest, loneliest perve in town.’ Her speculative glance invited me to join in with her laughter, although she’d just accused me of being both clueless and a perve. I wasn’t sure I found it that funny.
‘Yeah, Fifty Shades,’ I said, as a punctuation mark. ‘It’s not really like that, though, I take it?’
‘I’ve yet to meet a billionaire,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Maybe this munch, eh?’
‘But do you have a…a top?’ I asked.
‘Several,’ she said with an arch smile. ‘My path was similar to yours. I registered on a few websites and chatted with some local people before finally, tentatively, meeting up with some of my new friends. It was a process of trial and error – one man’s BDSM is another man’s vanilla, and yet another man’s extreme edge-play. It takes a while to work it all out. But when you do…oh, boy.’ She was a cat with the cream, on the verge of licking her lips. ‘Let’s just say it’s worth it.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said. ‘So, this munch. Will you know everyone there?’
‘Probably. A couple of my tops will be there – but we aren’t exclusive. Just playmates.’
‘Don’t you want to be exclusive?’
‘Oh, I do,’ she contradicted. ‘More than anything. But I haven’t found the right partner yet. When I do, I will completely belong to them in every way. I’d only do that for somebody really special, though. At this point, I’m still looking.’
‘Oh. So this town…?’
‘I doubt he or she will be local. There is somebody I play with over Skype…’ She paused to blush and get a faraway look in her eye. ‘But he’s in Boulder, Colorado. We hope to meet next year, funds and passports permitting.’ She took another sip of
coffee. ‘So what are you doing here?’
I was so flustered I had to put my cup down. Did she have me pegged as a spy in the camp already?
‘What?’ I said weakly, resisting an enormous urge to look over at Tom with ‘abort operation’ eyes.
‘Your first step into the lifestyle is a big one. Loads of people never make it – they hold back and fantasise about it for the rest of their lives. What made you take the leap?’
‘Ah, right,’ I said, breathing out. ‘Just…I dunno…call it curiosity. Well, a bit more than that. I mean, I read Fifty Shades and realised that I wasn’t alone, so perhaps I ought to try and make contact.’
‘As long as you’re not looking for your very own Mr Grey,’ she said with an eyeroll.
‘No, not at all. Why would I want a drop-dead-gorgeous kinky billionaire?’
She laughed. ‘I know, right? Ah, if only fairytales could come true. You’ll find a range of tops at the munch, from young to pensioner, from smart to bohemian. No Mr Greys, though, thank God. All real people with real senses of humour.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ I said.
But at the back of my mind, I was annoyed with myself. Why had I spun her that Fifty Shades line? It wasn’t true – I hadn’t even read the book. Was I so afraid of properly opening up about my sexuality that I had to construct an alternative version of it?
‘My tops are Ryan, Chris and Maria,’ she continued. ‘I think they’ll all be there, probably. Ryan is ex-army, a few years older than me, works as a mechanic now. Really nice, down-to-earth guy, but he has the heaviest hand I’ve ever known! Chris is an accountant, fifties, divorced. Actually, he might not be here, if it’s his weekend to take the kids out. Maria is a pro-Domme but all her customers are male and she’s gay, so she’s on the scene to get a few girls over her knee.’
‘Wow,’ I said, then even more awkwardly, ‘Cool.’
She laughed at my pretence of worldliness.
‘It’s mind-blowing at first,’ she said sympathetically. ‘But it isn’t a different world. Everyone’s human. Don’t be scared. Just be yourself and accept the others for who they are. Easy!’
Being myself was not easy. I had to be somebody else – the investigator, the mole. Even with Tom there, I’d be on edge. Especially with Tom there. And that reminded me.
‘Actually, the thing that really pushed me into making this move,’ I said, hardly daring to look at her, ‘was a blog.’
‘A blog? Oh, there are hundreds of them now, aren’t there? I tend not to have time to follow them.’
‘Oh, but this one…I get the feeling it’s by somebody local. Just the places she mentions. Made me realise kinky people are everywhere – even here.’
‘Really?’ Katie looked only vaguely interested.
‘You might even know her. She blogs as Mia Culpa.’
Katie shrugged. ‘That won’t be her real name, obviously.’
‘Oh…well, no. Obviously.’
I was deflated. If Katie knew – or even was – Mia, she didn’t want me to know it.
She dropped her spoon on to the table with a clatter and reached for her bag.
‘Well, then, if we don’t want to be late…’
‘What happens if we’re late?’ I asked, gulping down the last few mouthfuls of macchiato.
‘You don’t want to know,’ said Katie with a wicked grin, followed by a wink.
I followed her out of the place, with a quick crane of my neck in Tom’s direction. He watched us over the rim of a menu. He didn’t get up straightaway, but then I supposed he didn’t want to break cover.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ she asked me as we made the short trip across the piazza that led to the pub. It was a bright, sharp autumn day. Shoppers and skateboarders and kids crowded around us, making my mission seem more incongruous than ever. Here was real life, a concept that sat badly with underground sado-masochism.
‘Sure,’ I replied, almost overwhelmed by an urge to look back for Tom in the crowd. I managed to quell it, but only just. ‘Why not?’
‘Why not indeed,’ she said musingly. ‘Fair enough.’
The Plough was in a narrow, dark street of old, somewhat neglected, buildings on the hill that led down to the river basin. It felt like entering a different world; from the bright and open to the secretive.
Two bikers sat at an outdoor table smoking. One of them nodded at Katie as she passed.
‘Is he one of them?’ I whispered.
She nodded and pushed the door open. I was entering the Secret Society. I had made it.
The Secret Society was a pretty standard pub interior with dark wooden beams and chalkboards everywhere. It was quiet – just a few old fellows nursing pints of bitter at the bar – until we walked through an archway into a skittle alley.
Nobody was playing skittles, but the large deal table at the far end of the room was colonised by about a dozen people, all so absorbed in their talk and laughter that they didn’t notice Katie and me until we were upon them.
My efforts to register each member of the group weren’t too successful – I was aware only of a blur of different impressions. A flowery blouse, a Biblical beard, a very toothy smile. They didn’t look kinky. They looked like any collection of office staff out for lunch on dress-down Friday.
‘Katie!’ Several of them spoke at once.
‘Who’s your friend?’
‘You’re late, young lady.’
The last speaker was a good-looking, rugged guy in a plaid shirt. I was willing to bet, by the way Katie blushed and quivered at him, that he was one of her tops.
‘Sorry, sir,’ she said, and there was laughter as she slid into the seat beside him.
‘You will be,’ he said. More laughter.
‘This is Ellie,’ she said, as I reestablished my position as the focal point of the group. ‘We got chatting on Safeword.’
‘Welcome, Ellie,’ said the floral-blouse woman, pulling a stool over for me. It was lower than the chairs the others sat on, and I felt immediately like a little girl surrounded by adults. ‘You’re new to this?’ she continued in a lower voice, leaning in to me. She smelled of some very heady, spicy perfume.
‘Yes,’ I said, staring at the grain of the table. Now I was here, it all felt very dangerous somehow; a real lion’s den.
‘Sub?’ asked one of the men, eyeing me rather intensely.
‘I…think so,’ I said.
‘Only one way to find out,’ he replied, and there was more laughter and an admonition to ‘Calm down, Tim,’ from the floral-blouse woman.
‘You’ll frighten her off,’ she added, then she patted my shoulder and stroked it. I think it was intended to be reassuring, but it made me tense up far more than the joshing remarks. ‘Poor little newbie. It isn’t easy, you know. Is it, Ellie? You’ve been very brave to come here like this.’
‘But you needn’t worry,’ interjected Katie’s beau. ‘We don’t bite.’
‘No,’ agreed Floral Blouse. ‘We just sting from time to time.’ A predatory gleam in her eye accompanied her next words. ‘I’m Maria, darling. I’m a very giving person, or so I’m told.’
‘Especially when it comes to pain,’ said Katie smartly, earning her more laughter and – I suspected – some trouble for her posterior next time Maria got her alone.
‘You should know, darling,’ she said, raising her eyebrow. ‘You should know. Let me buy you a drink, Ellie. New members never have to fend for themselves here.’
I asked her for lime and soda – keeping a clear head was definitely in order – and she swanned off, wiggling her bottom in a tight black pencil skirt.
‘Don’t mind Maria,’ said a very glamorous woman, the only one dressed in a stereotypically ‘kinky’ way. She wore vamp-dark lipstick and a stretch-lace top underneath a purple PVC bustier. ‘She’s the grande dame of the scene and she likes to camp it up. But she’s a pussycat really.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ I said. ‘I guess I wasn’t sure what
to expect. Wall to wall leather, maybe. But most of you are…’
I looked around them, hesitating to apply the term ‘normal’ in such abnormal circumstances.
‘There isn’t a uniform,’ said Biblical Beard with a gruff laugh. ‘Some of us dress up to play, some of us don’t.’
‘And some of us dress up because we love it,’ said PVC Girl, tossing her magenta-highlighted hair. ‘I’m Tanya,’ she added. ‘I’m a switch.’
‘Switch – oh, you do both,’ I said, recalling a discussion of this very issue on Mia’s blog.
‘That’s right. I’m as flexible as they come.’
‘Must be the yoga,’ said Katie.
‘God, yes,’ said Tanya, suddenly enthused. ‘That’s been amazing. Thanks so much for recommending that group. My back and joints feel so much better.’
A strangely prosaic conversation ensued about health ailments and the best types of exercise for relieving them, which was interrupted by Maria’s return – and the appearance of Tom, in the company of the smoking biker.
I tried not to flood with heat, but I can’t say I was successful. It was lucky that everybody was looking at Tom, Maria and the biker.
‘Look what I found at the bar,’ purred Maria. ‘Chatting to Kevin. Too shy to introduce himself.’
I nearly spluttered into the lime and soda she had just plonked in front of me. Tom? Shy? Was she talking about somebody else?
But he was doing a very creditable job of looking shifty and awkward. It was rather adorable, to be honest.
‘Another newbie. Oh, my God. They’re like buses,’ said Tanya. ‘Hello, handsome.’
‘Yes, it has been rather a while, hasn’t it?’ said Maria. ‘Darling, you must pair up with our new girl Ellie here. Pull up that chair and sit beside her. It’s her first time too.’
‘Really?’ he said, putting his pint down next to my lime and soda. What a lovely couple they made. ‘Are you as nervous as I am? I had to have a whisky chaser with that.’
‘I’m, uh, yeah. Nervous.’ The words were half-throttled by my urge to laugh wildly.
‘So shall we have formal introductions?’ suggested Maria. ‘I’ll start. I’m Maria. I work as a dominatrix and sex educator. I prefer girls for recreation, but I’ll top anybody who pays me.’
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