I weighed it up, drink slowing my brain. “Where?”
“Soho. I’ll meet you at Tottenham Court Road Station. Eleven PM.”
“Got nowt to wear.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” she smirked. “You won’t need it.”
***
Chapter Eight
Sophie
I’d missed Explicit much more than I realised, underestimating its importance in my emotional equilibrium. Friday night work drinks had only reinforced that point. Laughing with my vanilla colleagues had taken effort, far too much concentration. I’d tried my best to be one of the crowd, but they cared about too much shit that meant nothing to me; gossip, and fashion and what’s on TV. I was all out of fucks to give, craving instead the embrace of my freak show friends, my people. Excitement ran through me, reinvigorated anticipation.
Only this time would be different.
I’d gone all out. Satin underwear under a sheer lace mini dress. Elbow-length gloves in black velvet. No stockings this time, only boots. Stiletto heeled leather to the knee, so tall I felt precarious. I liked the feeling.
I’d hidden it all under a long cardigan. My choker was the only giveaway, the unmistakable O-ring a tell-tale sign for anyone in the know.
Callum Jackson didn’t appear to be in the know. He was waiting when I stepped from the tube, trademark hoodie paired with black jeans I’d never seen him in. I checked him out, nodding my approval.
“Best I could do,” he grunted. “Ain’t got nothing else.”
“You look great.”
He didn’t respond to the compliment. “Where you taking me? Some swingers place or summat? Ain’t getting it on with no old cougars if that’s your thing.”
“You’ll see.”
He followed me across to Soho, shoulders hunched as his eyes scoped out every shadow. Explicit’s double wooden doors were unmarked from the street, no hint at the crazy awaiting inside. I put a hand on Callum’s arm as they swung open, smiling my usual welcome at the security guys. They eyeballed my guest, but let us pass with nothing more than a ‘good evening’. Callum kept his eyes on them until we were out of sight, muscles tense enough that I could feel them under his clothes.
“I’m Missy in this place,” I said. “We all use a club name.”
Dark eyes pierced. “Why?”
“Privacy... atmosphere... some people like the allure of a separate persona.” I handed my cardigan to the metal-studded girl at reception, and watched the savage take a step back. Outfit success. “Pick a name, Callum, any name...”
He swallowed, eyes on the line of my panties. “Am who I am. Fancy name makes no odds.”
“I quite fancied you as a Blake, or a Wraith, or a Steel…”
“Fancy you as you are. Don’t give a fuck about stupid names.”
That put me in my place, I only hoped he’d continue the momentum upstairs.
The Explicit crowd were out in force. I eyed Rebecca—Mistress Raven—in an instant, perched on a high stool at the bar with a possessive hand on Cara’s backside. They were laughing with Tyson and Trixie, Sergeant, Lilith and Devon, too.
“Know these people, yeah?” Callum grunted.
I nodded. “I’ve been coming for two years, I know pretty much everyone.”
“What shit goes on here?”
“It’s a BDSM club. This here is the main floor, where most of the hanging out happens. Main stage gets a bit of action, if couples want to play for the crowd. There’s a chill-out room behind, but, really, it’s not so chilled out.” I pointed to the far corner. “Toilets are over that way, men’s, women’s and anybody’s. Oh, but be careful... there’s a wet room there too, but I, um, wouldn’t recommend you venture in there.”
“Why not? People all nude, like?”
“People are nude pretty much everywhere in this place,” I laughed. “But the wet room is something else altogether. It’s, um, popular for piss play.”
“Piss play? Like actual piss? For real?”
“For real.” Memories of Masque flooded my senses, his filthy fucking tastes dancing through my mind. “It’s not really my bag. Some people here are into it, though.”
“What is your bag?” he asked, eyes still fixed in the direction of the wet room.
“I like to play in scenes, general pain play, stuff like that. Down to the left are the play rooms. They’re full of equipment; racks, and benches and suspension hooks, that kind of thing. People use them in couples or groups, whatever they fancy. Most rooms are open for public viewing. They have windows, so you can play or watch, join in sometimes too if people are up for company. Playroom four is private, the only private space in the club. We can start there if you like? Later, I mean.”