© Copyright 2019 - Alcatraz - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; latex; catsuit; club; collar; M/f; leash; play; gag; kneel; F/f; D/s; cuffs; padlocks; chairtie; straps; game; vibe; climax; bdsm; crop; cons/reluct; X
At around 10pm the taxi pulled up outside an innocuous brick building.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" I scanned the area with trepidation.
It was an old area of the city. The full moon provided just enough light to see, the elongated shadows gave the area a disconcerting feel.
"Yup, this is it"
"Will you wait a moment while I make sure?"
The driver nodded dismissively as I paid the fare.
My rubber squeaked softly as I alighted. The night air was cool. I shivered a little and vigorously massaged my hands, warm breath forming misty plumes as it did battle with the cold night air.
A set of stone steps led down from the pavement to beneath the building in front. As I descended the taxi sped off, clearly not wanting to hang around in the area. At that moment, I was very much of the same opinion, but with my ride gone the only option was to proceed.
I paused. The bottom of the steps was so dark as if even the moonlight was afraid to encroach. Through the gloom I could faintly see a heavy looking door. Nothing about the building reassured me that I was in the right place.
After several more steps I reached the bottom. A burly, barrel of a man suddenly appeared from an alcove in the shadows, taking me by surprise. Subdued moonlight shone off his hairless head, casting harsh shadows down his face, accentuating hardened chiselled features. His chin looked like it could take a kick from a mule. A full length overcoat did little to hide his powerful frame.
He towered above me despite my heels, "Good evening Miss, may I see your invite please?"
I placed the invite in his Navvy-like hands and waited while he scrutinised it. He smiled and opened the door.
"Welcome to The Lair Miss, have a good evening"
The first thing I noticed upon entering the club was how expansive it was. The foyer area was softly lit and carpeted with a deep red pile. There was an air of opulence about the decor.
"Would you like to check anything into the cloakroom this evening?" a girl called from a booth to the left.
I passed her my coat but kept the bag, embarrassed that if left unguarded someone might discover it's contents.
The assistant hung the coat on a rack behind the desk and passed me the ticket. She looked me up and down unashamedly, "You look wonderful".
Unaccustomed to such comments from strangers my cheeks flushed, but the ego boost was welcomed.
"Umm, where do I go now?"
"Through the next double doors. The bar is to the right and the dance floor and stuff is to the left"
Before entering the main club I quickly went to the restroom. I needed a second or two to compose myself. My heart was beating quickly now.
"What am I doing" I whispered to myself while reapplying my lipstick. It would be easy to leave the club at that moment, pretend that nothing had happened. But I knew that relief would only be temporary and that regret would set in in a day or so. No. No running away.
I opened my bag and looked at the collar and cuffs within. Should I put them on yet? Unsure of the club's etiquette I opted to wear the collar only. The collar would complement my outfit, I reasoned, but the cuffs may attract too much attention before I was ready. I wanted to check out the club from a safe distance.
With the collar loosely, but securely buckled I did a final makeup check and left the restroom.
Beyond the doors the club seemed to grow again. It must have been the basement for several of the buildings in the row. People were dancing to the left. The electronic music was loud but not overbearing. In the middle of the dance area was a raised box where the DJ was spinning the decks. Everyone was wearing fetish attire of some description; rubber, leather and chains seemed to be the dress code. Even the DJ was wearing a tight black rubber sleeveless vest. Along the length of the walls were shadowy booths, reminiscent of a 60's diner. The lighting had been arranged such that the booths remained dark and discreet.
I felt like everyone's eyes were suddenly upon me, as if I'd just entered the Slaughtered Lamb. Dutch courage was needed, and quickly. I headed for the bar as unobtrusively as possible, but my heels caused me to walk with the exaggerated sway to my hips, almost giving them a life of their own.
The barmaid was dressed as a Bavarian beer girl, her outfit beautifully crafted from various colours of latex. The rubber skirt barely covered her ass, and goodness knows how she squeezed her huge bosom into the stretched top. Her leather waist cincher accentuated the curves of her hips and boobs.
She smiled warmly "What can I get you?"
The array of bottles, optics and pumps was impressive, but I chose to play it safe. "White wine, thank you".
"Please, allow me to buy this for you."
I jumped at the sound of a man's voice next to me. His smile was wide and toothy. He was tall, certainly over six feet and of slender build. His face was clean shaven, and black hair well groomed. He was wearing a black suit, black collared silk shirt and a red tie. The ensemble was in stark contrast to the majority in the club, as if he hadn't got the memo about the dress code.
"Thats very kind of you, thanks."
"Put it on my tab" he told the bar maid. "You are most welcome ... miss?"
I paused, self preservation causing me the think carefully before I spoke. I searched for a pseudonym .. for now at least ..
"Phoenix" I smiled.
"Aha, a pet name? I've not seen you here before Phoenix. Are you with someone?" he asked, oozing confidence at every word.
His lack of reaction to my pseudonym suggested it was common practice, people wanted to protect their identities. I felt like I had passed the first test.
"Just little old me" I quipped nervously taking a sip of wine. "This is my first time here. Actually it's my first time visiting any club like this". I was gripping the wine glass with both hands in front of my chest, like Van Helsing's crucifix keeping the vampire at bay.
He raised an eyebrow "You're kidding me, right? There is no way someone with a pseudonym and looking the way you do is new to all this. Your ensemble is quite outstanding if I may be so bold"
Fidgeting a little under his intense green eyes I replied "It's true. I'm just fortunate to know a very good ... umm ... tailor".
"Talented indeed. Well, I think you are the most stunning creature here tonight. Cheers!" The stranger offered up his glass and we clinked them in a toast.
"So" he continued. "What brings an unaccompanied beautiful rubber girl to The Lair tonight?"
"In all honesty I don't know" the wine was starting to loosen my tongue. "Curiosity I guess. I have had something of an epiphany recently, and when I received an invite for this club, I thought I'd come and see for myself."
"Interesting. And what do you think of what you have seen so far?"
"It's fascinating, surprising, eye-opening .... but now I am here, I don't really know what to do. I never thought this far ahead."
Momentarily I became distracted as a leather clad woman walked directly up to us. She was naturally tall, but towered in her high heels. She wore a sleek black leather sleeveless dress which clung to her body from her neck down to her knees. Her body was curvy yet slim. A split up the dress exposed a powerful thigh. Her jet black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. I considered her to be older than myself, even though her complexion was flawless. She looked me straight in the eyes exuding such power and confidence. The woman looked familiar somehow but the penny just wouldn't drop. Ignoring my companion and placing a leather gloved finger under my chin, the woman gently tilted my head back to look up into her steely face.
"I have been watching you. I would take you" she purred with a foreign accent, perhaps eastern European.
My male companion coughed, glaring at the woman. She half turned her head towards him, still holding me with her stare. A narrow, dangerous smirk formed on her lips. "Relax Lothar, I'm only stating my interest."
"You know the protocol here Anya" he flatly retorted.
She gave a dismissive shrug, and turned her gaze towards him. I suddenly felt able to breathe again. Lothar and the lady never broke eye contact as Anya sidled her way behind me, her leather finger softly tracing the edge of my jaw line, down my neck to my right shoulder. I felt her other hand rest on my left shoulder. She squeezed gently but with purpose. My heart was fluttering, the tension palpable. Anya's hands slowly traced a path down my arms and came to rest upon my hips. I swallowed hard. All the while Lothar silently stared back at her, like two dangerous animals posturing over a piece of meat.
There was a gentle pull from Anya's fingers on my hips and she pressed herself into me; my ass softly molded to her body, her breasts pressing firmly into my back. Her perfume was sweet.
The sensory overload became too much for me and I involuntarily shuddered. Lothar's eye twitched, and then he blinked and his mask faltered. He took a sip of his drink, moving his glance from Anya to me.
Anya laughed aloofly, evidently the impasse was broken and she had won the moment.
Before leaving us Anya whispered in my ear "Come find me, pretty rubber girl" . The woman's breathy words caressed my ear like kinky ASMR, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
The sound of Anya's heels faded into the music as she left us. Once sure that Anya had gone I risked a glance over my shoulder. "Who on earth was that?"
"That was Anya. She is a Domme, and has taken an interest in you it seems" he smiled weakly, still watching Anya saunter across the room.
"I'm afraid I don't understand ..."
"You really weren't joking about being new to this were you. How can I put this ... she wants to play with you, perhaps even claim you as her property"
"What !?!" I laughed nervously at the thought. "Why would she think I wanted that?"
He reached up and flicked the ring on the front of my collar, causing it to tinkle gently. "Because you are wearing this, and it is unlocked with no leash attached. In here that means you are a free agent and looking for a Master or Mistress. It is a dangerous thing to wear an unlocked collar, especially looking the way you do. To a predatory Domme like Anya, the quality and attention to detail in your appearance says you are an experienced submissive, or even slave. And Anya is about as predatory as they come!"
"I'm such an idiot" I sighed, hanging my head and emptying my glass "I should have researched this first. I'm completely out of my depth. But ... she would need my permission to do anything though, right? She couldn't really just do stuff without my consent, this is not the middle ages, there are laws!"
"Normally yes, but Anya is something of an enigma. No-one really knows much about her, other than by rumour and reputation. And if the rumours are to be believed, she should be avoided by all but the most committed fetishist."
"My God. Thank you so much for protecting me from her!"
Seemingly sensing my embarrassment Lothar continued. "Don't worry. Listen, you said you are curious. Perhaps I could show you a little of what it is like to be a submissive. No strings attached. And if you don't like it then no harm done. If you should decide you want to take things further, or even approach Anya, at least you will understand a little more of what you would be getting yourself into"
I raised an eyebrow. "No strings attached? What is in it for you? Surely there are more experienced girls in here you would prefer to meet?"
"Young lady, I would get to spend time with a beautiful rubber girl for the evening and perhaps, in time, you may consider playing with me again, or consider being my submissive."
The proposition excited me. At last I would get to feel what it was like to be controlled, but with the promise of a safety net. The standoff with Anya had been a thrill, I was keen to go a little further with Lothar.
"Yes please, Sir!" he replied with a firmer tone to his voice,
I sensed I was on the brink of something big, a leap of faith.
"Yes please, Sir"
"Very good Phoenix. Now, your safe word is 'Red'. If at any time you feel that things are too much for you then just say that word and I will release you. Understand?"
"Yes Sir" my voice trembled slightly. This was actually going to happen. I was going to freely give a total stranger control over me. My mind was saying no, but the heart was overruling, driving me forwards into the unknown.
"Good girl. As a show of your consent, I want you to lean forward and allow me to attach this leash to your collar"
Lothar held open the clip of a leash a few inches in front of the collar. I took a deep breath, then leaned forward until the clasp snapped onto the metal ring.
I was now under the control of the mysterious Master Lothar!
Lothar gently guided me across the room to a quieter corner. Being led on the end of a leash felt indescribably naughty. People watched with approval as he led his leashed submissive.
In the corner was a plush deep maroon leather armchair. He sat down and nodded towards a large floor cushion in front. "Kneel please" he ordered.
My rubber skin squeaked and stretched as I knelt facing him.
He began to gently caress my breasts through the rubber. It felt electric, I bit my lip stifling a moan. His hands were trembling very slightly and there was a bead of sweat on his forehead.
Never before had I been touched so brazenly in public. The thought of people watching both embarrassed and excited me.
"Turn around so that you are facing the room."
Facing into the belly of the club Master Lothar twisted my hair up into an untidy makeshift bun.
He then crouched in front of me. He offered up a bright red ball with a strap attached at either side. "May I use this?" he asked politely.
I nodded and he placed it in front of my mouth, resting on my lips.
The ball was gently pressed into my mouth and the buckle fastened behind my head. It felt huge, and I was salivating already.
"Good girl. You are unable to speak clearly now, so in addition to your safe word you may also shake your head if you want me to stop, ok?"
"Yesh Shir" I replied, feeling the pooled drool run down my chin.
Next he lashed his end of the leash to a steel ring embedded in the floor next to the chair. With his foot he tapped the insides of my knees.
I adjusted my position, but it seemed it was not enough. He again tapped the insides of my knees.
"A little wider please Phoenix"
My knees felt obscenely wide, and I was feeling some unease with the slutty posture. People peered and whispered to each other.
"Arms behind your back, please, and link your fingers. Back straight, shoulders back and chest out. You are doing great."
Master Lothar returned to his armchair. He was always polite in his requests, and I felt safe at all times. I did my best to comply with his posture requests. It was difficult, tending to slouch, and whenever I let my posture slip he would tap my butt gently and remind me of his instructions.
My thoughts drifted to my bag and the set of cuffs within. Should I tell Master Lothar about them so that he might use them on me? At that moment I realised that I didn't have the bag with me anymore. In the excitement of being leashed I had completely forgotten about it. After a panicked scan, I was relieved to see it was still on the floor at the bar where we had been stood.
After some time, I'm not sure how long, Master Lothar ordered me to turn to face him again and removed the gag, he caught the pool of drool which followed in a white handkerchief. I giggled at the ridiculousness of it. He laughed too and unhitched the leash and unclipped it from my collar.
"I must go now Phoenix, I have matters to attend to. How did you enjoy tonight?"
"It was nice" I replied, saving his feelings from a less than enthusiastic response.
In truth, it had been nice. He had treated me respectfully, and I had felt completely safe all the time. I had experienced some loss of control and submissiveness, but somehow it ultimately felt somewhat ... unfulfilling. I had been expecting something a little more intense, but maybe the fetish scene was not actually like that in real life. Maybe the pictures which I had seen had presented an exaggerated and fantastical version of the truth, in the same way that porn does for sex. The fetish gear in the store and pony Laura had looked edgy, but maybe it was all just for show.
"Good" he said and passed me a card with his number on. "Call me sometime, or perhaps I may see you here again." And with that he swept across the room and out to the foyer.
The clock on the wall showed 12:50am. Tomorrow was Friday, a work day, and I needed sleep. It was then that I noticed my bag had gone from the bar. Neither the bar staff nor the nearby patrons claimed to have seen it, or where it went. I panicked, in addition to containing the cuffs it had my mobile phone in it too. It would be an awkward conversation with the insurance company when it came to the "Where did you lose it" questions.
Quickly panning the room I found it again, resting against the end of a booth seat. I dashed to the bag, but as I approached a hand from the dark booth snatched it out of reach.
"Careless, leaving one's bag unattended" said a voice from the shadows. I recognised it at once ... Anya! My blood froze as piercing blue eyes stared out at me from the shadows.
"Please, can I have my bag back?"
Anya was rummaging inside and to my horror pulled out the cuffs.
"What are these doing in here? Why aren't you wearing them?"
"I don't know why I brought them. It's late, please pass me my bag Anya"
"Never call me Anya!" she barked through clenched teeth. "You can address me as Mistress Anya you ignorant bitch"
I stammered, stunned by the aggressive outburst, unsure how to respond. With Lothar gone I was flying solo, playing Russian Roulette with Anya. The question in the chamber - "Why aren't I wearing them". I sensed that a wrong move could have dire consequences. I decided to play the "I need to go" card.
"I'm sorry, I don't know how all this works. Forgive me, Mistress Anya, but I need to be going."
BANG !! I just lost.
Anya held the two leather wrist cuffs towards me. "Put them on".
Things were getting serious.
"Please, Mistress Anya, I really can't right now. Can I please just have my stuff and I will stop bothering you."
My stomach was knotting, I suddenly needed to pee.
"Want? Want? You think you have a fucking choice?"
Her face was expressionless, despite her tirade.
Anya pulled a riding crop from behind her and struck it against the seat, making a loud crack which seemed to transcend the music. Faces turned to see what the fuss was about.
"Put them on, NOW!"
I wanted run. I should have run. Jonathan could make replacement cuffs, but my mobile phone was still in the bag. To get it back I would have to placate Anya. When Lothar left, my gusto for the evening left with him. I was tired and had a difficult day at work ahead of me, I was certainly not in the mood for a confrontation with her. But there was also some part of me that wanted to comply with her demands. Beyond all reason, beyond all common sense, I wanted to get a little taste of Anya's world.
As instructed I wrapped, and buckled, a cuff round each wrist.
"Tighter" she demanded; reluctantly I tightened them another notch, the pinch firm but comfortable.
"Where is Lothar?" asked Anya
"He had to go and attend to something"
"I watched you with him. Such a waste of a slave like you. Did you know his real name is Lance?"
I shook my head, turning the cuffs round my wrists nervously.
"He lives with his mother and waits tables in a restaurant. The business he needs to attend to is the curfew his mother sets. Proper little Cinderella don't you think?"
It was painful to hear her words, how she destroyed his character and his mystery in such a callous way.
"He seemed nice ..." I offered a feeble defence.
"He is a fraud. He is no real Dominant, it's a game for him. He is probably still a virgin, I could see him sweating and trembling as he touched you from here. How did you feel, sat like a kitten at his feet?"
"Well, I .. "
"You looked bored. I could tell you wanted more, needed more. Isn't that right?"
"I .. I .." She had me on the back foot. Guarding my answers meant slow responses, I could not calculate the safest answer to give before she was pressing her questions again.
"Answer the question Phoenix"
My blood ran cold again. "How do you know my name?"
"There is very little I don't know my dear. And what I don't know, I make it my business to find out. I don't know your real name right now, but I will".
Her smile was disconcerting.
"Put these on" she commanded as she passed me the ankle cuffs.
I silently berated myself for bringing the collar and cuffs that night. I had been seduced by the beauty, allure and fantasy of Jonathan's gifts; how they made me look and feel. But I had failed to consider what the items might mean. Master Lothar had warned me at the bar, and his prediction was steadily coming to fruition. Narcissism had bought me a chip in the big game, and Anya was cashing it in. She was right, I did need more.
Once the ankle cuffs were buckled Anya emerged fully from the shadows. It was then that I realised why she looked familiar. The fetish shop. She was the striking woman who had arrived while I was with pony Laura.
"I remember you .. from the fetish shop the other day".
Anya just smiled, and reached for my wrist and examined the cuff. With a deft move she hooked a small padlock through the buckle and snapped it closed.
"Whoa whoa! Hey, what are you doing?". She held my wrist with surprising strength, easily resisting my attempts to pull away.
"Question me again, and I promise you will regret it! Other arm!"
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, a padlock was snapped shut over the buckle of my other wrist. She then knelt and added padlocks to both ankle cuffs.
The permanency which the locks afforded the cuffs was not lost on me, and astonishingly there was a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, not just from fear ....
Anya had slipped behind me and added one of her little locks to the collar too after tightening it a further notch.
I pulled at the buckle on the collar, and of course found it to be secured. "Oh shit" I whispered.
"Oh shit, indeed"
Immediately a leash was attached to the collar and Mistress Anya forcefully dragged me to the centre of the room. I stumbled at first but quickly found my feet. The locks on the cuffs delicately rattled in stark contrast to their nefarious purpose.
Anya had a whispered conversation with a member of staff who quickly disappeared into a side room. He returned pushing something on wheels. As it got closer I could see it was a chair. It was wooden, possibly oak, and upholstered on the seat and back with black leather, riveted to the wood.
"Wait, wait" I stammered what is that for?"
"It's for you, little Phoenix, you must be tired after wearing those darling heels all night."
Anya sat me down. She then pulled my arms behind the chair back and secured them somehow. However hard I pulled they would not budge. With my attention on my wrists I failed to notice her crouch at my feet and clip the ankle cuffs to metal eye holes in the seat legs.
A circle of club patrons had formed around us, whispering and looking at me expectantly.
"Stop Mistress Anya, please" I begged. "I don't want to play your games"
She stopped by my side. From my seated position she towered above me, looking down her nose at her whining captive.
"Games? I do not play games you stupid girl. I only ever play for keeps. I can be your fairy godmother or your bogeyman. If I choose to do so, I can turn you into a snivelling sex slave, a rubber fuck toy or beast of burden destined for a life on a ranch. Oh yes, girl, I can seriously fuck you and your life up."
Tears were streaming down my face. Anya's words were scaring the crap out of me. She was walking round and round the chair while she spoke, her words loud so that the crowd could hear how she belittled and humiliated me.
"This may sound frightening to you. But, there are people in this world that crave such a life, something inside compels them to push their limits and let go of their "normal" life."
Anya slipped a catch between my collar and the seat back, forcing me to sit upright at all times.
"It sets them free" she whispered into my ear.
Anya was now turning a handle connected to the seat part of the chair. As she did so my legs were forced open by the seat splitting in two and pivoting outwards. When she stopped turning my legs were very open at an alarming angle. I felt very vulnerable. Next she tightened a strap over each thigh, securing it to each leg of the chair. Two more little padlocks and I was very much immobile.
A queue of five people had formed in front of me. From behind my chair Anya had retrieved what I recognised as an Hitachi wand.
"I can tell you are very excited to be locked to the chair. I think you owe me for setting you so nicely, so these good people have agreed to help you cum for me."
I blinked, not believing what I was hearing. She was going to force me to cum! In front of the whispering crowd!
My brain was shouting "RED, RED", but my mouth was not responding.
Anya located and unzipped my catsuit, exposing my hot and sweaty puss.
"Well, well" she purred examining me, "You are juiced up and ready to go"
"So! Each of your friends here will have one minute to make you cum with the wand. I will be the last in line, and I expect you to save your orgasm for me, understand?"
All I could do was watch dumbfounded.
"If you fail me and cum early, then for each remaining friend you will receive a stroke of the crop on your ass. One way or another I get what I want"
She was smiling evilly. She had me right where she wanted me.
The first "friend" in the line was a young guy maybe nineteen I guessed. He approached me and settled between my stretched legs. Oh the humiliation. The dirty little bastard had a sniff at my exposed puss and licked his lips. I wanted a hole to swallow me up.
I leapt as he placed the buzzing machine directly on my clitty. I had cooled off a little and it was too much too soon. It felt uncomfortable. There was no way I was going to cum like that. He was clearly inexperienced and just kept pressing that damn wand harder on my button. At least I would be spared at least one strike of the crop.
After his minute was up he left in a huff, his ego dented by failing to make the bound lady in the chair cum. Round one to me.
The next "friend" was the Bavarian barmaid.
She was more skilled than the young man and used the wand more expertly. By the end of her minute she had me gasping and moaning, but failed to get me over the edge. She gave me a kiss on the lips before heading back to the bar.
"Very good girl. Time to up the ante."
She had a ball gag stuffed into my mouth with surprising speed. It was slightly bigger than Lothar's, and forced me to breathe through my nose. I squealed as I felt her fingers enter my pussy slightly and then she wiped them over my upper lip. With each breath through my nose I got a heady aroma of my own intimate juices, sweat and latex. This brought laughs and claps from the crowd.
Next in line was a girl on the end of a leash. I guessed her age was similar to my own. She was not bound and the woman holding her leash seemed more of a girlfriend than a dominant. More players I sighed.
It was clear from the start that this woman had more experience. She played the wand around my clit and pussy masterfully, her friend watching my reactions and guiding her pet. By thirty seconds I was on the brink, despite the yucky smell assailing my nostrils.
I was physically shaking now, the little padlocks rattling.
"Twenty seconds left" Anya teased
I was so close. If I could have closed my legs I could have saved myself, but they were not mine to control. My moans were loud and real through the gag. Not long now, I can do this I thought.
"Ten seconds" Anya announced
The girl's friend whispered something in her ear, and with a knowing wink at me she put the wand in the sweet spot and I came hard and uncontrollably, screaming into the gag. To my amazement and horror I was visibly gushing liquid from my pussy. I had never ejaculated before, although I had heard that it was possible during an orgasm. The poor girl who had made me cum got most of my ejaculate in her face and breasts, and unbelievably she was grinning widely as she licked her lips.
As I twitched and shuddered while my orgasm faded I saw an expression on Anya's face which was somewhere between admiration and pride. She addressed the crowd again.
"We have a winner ladies and gentlemen."
There was enthusiastic clapping and the odd whoop from the freak show audience. I was released and led unsteadily to the rear of the chair. My wrist cuffs were clipped to rings on top of the chair back, and my ankles clipped similarly to the bottom of the rear legs.
"But unfortunately for Phoenix it is time to pay the piper. Two friends left means two strokes of the crop"
Each of the remaining participants took their turn to strike my ass with the crop. It hurt, not too badly, but left a burning sensation. And then finally Anya took her swipe. She did not hold back. It hurt, REALLY hurt and I yelped in pain much to her amusement.
The crowd dispersed while the padlocks on my cuffs were removed. The ball gag came out with a sloppy pop. I was glad to be able to breathe through my mouth again. I massaged my burning ass.
"You may thank me girl"
"Thank you Mistress Anya"
Anya re-sealed my catsuit and brushed my matted hair with her fingers. This time, almost affectionately.
"I meant what I said earlier. I would take you. Even more so now"
I remained quiet, still in shock. I had neither the words nor the energy to respond cohesively.
"You may approach me again. But remember this. If you do then it will be for keeps. No games. You will not be a submissive, you will be my property, my slave. Don't know the difference? Look it up, it is important for your future.
"You want childish dress up games, go find Lance the waiter. But I sense you need more than that. I know you will be back. You will kneel at my feet and offer me your collar and devotion. If you cannot, or will not give yourself completely, never approach me again."
Anya returned to her booth. I packed my cuffs back into my bag and walked unsteadily across the club to the exit. I still could not believe what had happened to me that night and took one last look over my shoulder towards Anya, checking she was for real. The glow from the screen of her mobile lit her face in the gloom of the booth. She was still watching me.
The call had been short and to the point. They always were. It was better that way, the less he and his clients knew about each other the better. Careless talk cost lives.
He had his orders now.
Serge Petrov parked his car a little way down the street from The Lair. He killed the headlights but left the engine running. It was a bitter night, and although his native Russia was far colder than England, he had become less tolerant of the cold and more accustomed to England's temperate climate.
He poured himself a hot coffee from a flask, and waited, watching the club.
The brief call from Anya had been quite clear. "The blonde girl, wearing black rubber. She is leaving the club now. Follow her. I want details. Address, employment, phone, email, personal life. Everything."
This was the sort of job he liked. They were simple if one was careful, and Anya paid well for good information.
Serge had no qualms with taking the more physical jobs which some of his clients hired him for; scaring the crap out of some poor debtor, hired muscle or beating a drugs rival to within an inch of their life. He had plenty of blood on his hands, and deaths on his conscience.
His services did not come cheap. He was good at what he did, very good indeed. His reputation in the underbelly of the city was how Anya had come to seek his services some years ago. He had worked for her several times since, and had a respect for her which not all of his clients earned, or deserved.
A woman appeared, ascending the steps to the pavement. She was alone. He studied her approvingly, her blonde hair in stark contrast to her black attire, a real beauty indeed. She stood on the pavement, the vapour of her hot breath coming in quick flumes. Her shivering arms were across her chest, and she stamped her stilettoed feet to keep the blood pumping.
Anya had contracted him to follow girls on many occasions, but this one was perhaps the most beautiful he had seen.
She was looking up and down the road, clearly waiting for someone. After a short time a black cab passed Serge's car and pulled up. This was a good start; the girl was travelling alone and taxis were easy to tail.
The cab pulled off. Serge calmly finished his coffee, and rebuilt his flask. His heart rate barely changed as he put his car into gear.
When he was happy with the distance between him and the taxi he pulled off and began the hunt.
The taxi soon arrived outside the club and I was relieved to have a comfortable seat at last, even if for a short time My butt still burned, but the cool leather seat was thankfully soothing.
I rested my head against the window and watched the city lights whizz by as if we were travelling at warp speed. The gentle purr of the engine, and the subtle, massaging vibration against my temple was relaxing.
The evening's events had lead me to discover an esoteric community, living in the shadows of the "normal" world. Feeling contemplative, I dreamily wondered whether the people outside the window had also seen such sights as I.
It is said the eyes are the window to the soul. Would my eyes appear differently to people now? Would I carry some aura of affinity which only the enlightened would comprehend? Would we nod and smile to each other as cognisant kindred spirits?
"Are you okay Miss?" the driver asked.
My trance was broken and I saw him looking at me in the rear view mirror, his brow a little furrowed.
"I am fine, thank you." Catching my own reflection in the mirror, I looked tired and drained. The volume had dropped out of my hair, it was matted from sweating inside the club. I pulled my coat tighter around me and melted back into the seat.
My mind drifted again. I reflected on the adventures that night. I reflected on how wonderfully naughty it had felt, openly wearing rubber in public. I reflected on how exciting it had felt to be under another's control. I ruminated about the enigmatic Master Lothar and how he had taken me under his wing, for a short time at least.
But most of all Mistress Anya occupied my thoughts. How she had read me like a book, understanding my deepest desires and conflicts better than I did myself. Desires which had been buried deep, yet Anya had found and manifested them so expertly. Why had I responded so acutely to fetish, bondage, pain and sexual pleasure?
But what amazed me more than my reaction that evening, was the undeniable feeling that I wanted more, needed more.
It was like a drug. The first hit had been free. I wanted a bigger hit, but would the price be too high ...
"Ahem, we are here Miss." His eyes were upon me in the mirror again. This time they were twinkling, and at that moment I was acutely aware that the catsuit zipper was open at my crotch. Judging by the dampness on my fingers and around my puss I had been touching myself for some time. Thank God my coat was still closed around me.
If the driver hadn't already guessed what I'd been doing, my sudden embarrassed flush surely gave the game away.
After paying the fare, along with a generous shame-tip I quickly retired to my flat.
Before drawing the drapes and hitting the shower I looked out over the city. It's essence had changed, there was a different rhythm to it's heart now.
The roads were quiet at this late hour, allowing Serge to stay a good safe distance behind his quarry. He tailed the taxi for about 30 minutes until they arrived at a pleasant leafy suburb of the city.
The girl's taxi had pulled up outside a building. He parked a sensible distance away and observed. The woman exited the taxi briskly and approached one of the buildings. Flats if he was not mistaken. Flats could be a problem. More people, more eyes and ears.
Serge began to jot information down in a small notebook.
Brick building, modern, detached, composite front door with no glass panels, buzzer by the front door with 6 buttons, double glazed PVC windows, 6 tiny balconies, no fire escape ladders, modern alarm system on the outside of the building.
His methodical mind quickly processed the observations into a risk for the job. So far so good, nothing a man of his talents could not contend with.
The woman unlocked the front door with a key.
Good, no sophisticated entry system to circumvent.
When the door closed shut behind the girl he began to count under his breath, watching the building for the next clue.
1 .. 2 .. 3 ..
No sign of activity yet.
28 .. 29 .. 30 ..
A window illuminated. Top floor, left side of the building. He made a quick sketch in his book and noted that it took about thirty seconds from front door to the girl's flat. His shrewd calculations continued.
It was late. She was cold, tired, possibly intoxicated, wearing heels and an overcoat.
Experience told him that the time taken to reach the flat in her condition probably meant no extra internal security doors between the front door and her flat. He smiled.
The blonde woman appeared at the window momentarily. Even though largely silhouetted, she was a sight to behold, her rubber covered upper body and arms playfully caught what little light there was from the room behind.
And in the blink of an eye she was hidden behind the drapes. Serge pocketed his notebook. Now he could begin to track her comings and goings, her schedules and habits, her acquaintances and visitors.
When the lights finally went out in the girl's flat he drove away.
I began to visit The Lair more regularly. I was now on first name terms with Vince the doorman and he would let me in without delay, no more need for golden tickets.
Jonathan provided me with an endless supply of beautiful fetish clothing, I never had to wear the same thing twice. Theme nights were the best, and I regularly won first prize, Jonathan's fantastic tailoring made all others pale into insignificance. Policewoman, nurse, maid, cheerleader ... I won them all.
Surprisingly, I never again saw Lance at the club. He was probably under curfew at his mum's or waiting tables somewhere. Fortunately though, I had also begun to make friends in the club, and we passed the time talking, dancing and drinking.
Anya was often present, sat in her booth or strutting around like the queen. I would surreptitiously watch her from afar, in muted awe at her confidence and mystery. I was drawn to her, but I knew she was dangerous. Heeding her warning, I had decided not to approach her again. That one night had been amazing, but I was not convinced I had the fortitude to take things further. I had many offers of "play" from the club-goers but I politely declined. Anya had ruined me for others, yet she had me too scared to approach her. A tortuous paradox.
And then one evening my already crazy life took a further turn while I was stood ordering a drink at the bar. I smelled her before I saw her, the familiar sweetness of her scent washing over me. I closed my eyes and breathed her essence deep into my lungs. I dared not look round, dared not light that fuse.
I felt the flat tongue of a crop between my legs just above my knees. It brushed my inner thigh as it rose higher ... and stopped. I swallowed hard, and grabbed the side of the bar to steady my already weak knees. The barman approached me to take my order. I simply stared at him, not hearing his words. He looked over my shoulder and nodded to whomever was behind me and went to serve another patron.
The crop tapped at my inner thighs repeatedly, indicating she wanted them wider. It felt strange that Anya had approached me after she had previously put the ball firmly in my court. It was dangerous and exciting yet I remained guarded.
If I did as she was requesting would I be passively inviting her to take control? Would it be tantamount to me approaching her? I hesitated, then widened my legs a little.
When she was happy with my stance I felt the tongue of the crop disappear up under my latex mini skirt and rest against my uncovered pussy. Why had I chosen that night of all nights to go commando? I shuddered with an anticipation, and then the crop was removed.
The voice confirmed what I already knew. I turned as commanded and stared into those ice blue eyes of hers.
"H .. Hello Miss Anya"
"I see you watching me all the time, yet you keep your distance. Is there something you want to say to me?"
"Sorry Miss Anya, I didn't mean to ..."
"Don't lie to me"
Anya stared at me, unblinking, waiting in silence for me to continue. I didn't want to say anything further. She was using an interview technique I recognised, used to draw information from an interviewee which they might not ordinarily offer in an attempt to fill an awkward conversational void. I should have been stronger, yet felt compelled to continue, digging my hole a little deeper each time I spoke.
"I .. Umm .. that is .. I guess I just wanted to say hi."
"Hello. Anything else?"
I was burning up, like a bug under a magnifying glass on a hot summers day. She was coaxing the question out of me, the question I knew I should not ask"
She showed me the tongue of the crop. It was wet with my pussy juices. She brought it close to my face and I could smell myself on the leather. My thoughts drifted to the hedonistic night in the club when our paths had first crossed. I knew Anya was the only way I could properly explore my desires, and I knew that it was the final call for the elevator to her world. The doors were closing ... it was my last opportunity .. I had to act .. Quickly .. Before it was too late ..
"Please, Miss Anya, I want to be with you."
The doors paused half closed, daring me to squeeze between them. A grin formed at the edge of her perfect mouth.
"Tell me you want to be mine. Tell me you give yourself to me"
"I do Miss Anya. I want to be your submissive"
"No. Tell me you want to be my slave"
I paused. I was so close, I just had to say the words and then I would be free from doubt.
"Yes Miss Anya, I really do want to be your slave."
And with that admission Anya's face brightened into a full smile, so beautiful and almost ... warm.
"Very well Danielle. I accept. You will hear from me." Anya turned towards the exit.
"Wait! How did you know my name is Danielle?"
"I told you I make it my business to find out what I want to know."
And with that she left the room, leaving me alone with the feeling that the gears of some great unseen mechanism had just been set in motion.
story continued in part four