‘Sure.’ Dimitri nods vigorously. I offer a weak smile.
‘So I’m going to run through the dos and don’ts of the club with you, and then I just need a little demonstration of your dynamic, if you don’t mind. I gather you, sir, are the dom and this lovely lady is your sub, so perhaps you could show us how you like to spank her, or a bit of bondage maybe …’
What? My mouth falls open and I stare at Dimitri, aghast.
‘Ah, don’t be shy now,’ pipes up O in a sexy husky voice. ‘We’ve all seen it a thousand times. You’ll see me whipped by every dom in the place before too long. But I know the first time in front of other people is hard, so please be aware that I sympathise. I envy you too. Gosh, that feeling of being on the edge of a precipice – the exhilaration. I’d give anything to relive that, you lucky thing.’
‘If you’re really not ready, I can get him to spank O instead,’ offers Mal, but I shake my head.
No. If he touches any woman’s bottom, it will be mine.
‘No, no,’ I croak. ‘It’s fine. I’ll do it.’
I’ll do it.
Chapter Two
The first rule of kink club, apparently, is that you don’t talk about kink club. There are other rules too, centring on respect and consent – basic good manners, I guess. You don’t strip people naked and whip them unless they want you to. You take turns. You play nicely.
I find myself watching Mal’s lips as he enunciates. He has blue lipstick on and his false vampire teeth are fascinating to follow. Perhaps they aren’t even false. Perhaps he’s had them filed that way.
I come to with a slight jerk of the neck when O asks us a direct question. What do we do for a living?
‘I’m in advertising,’ I tell her.
‘Oh.’ Not impressed, I gather. ‘And you, Dimitri?’
‘I have plan to be professional dominant person.’
‘You’ve come here looking for work?’ She is taken aback. ‘Well, we do have some members who work on the scene. I’m sure you’d benefit from meeting them. It’s funny, but you really don’t look or dress like the stereotype. I like that though.’
‘I have no leather pants,’ says Dimitri regretfully. ‘Too expensive. But I have other job too. I work in Russia as an actor. I want to improve my English, get into the movies, you know.’
Mal and O are obviously transfixed by this odd foreign fish. I must admit, I’m pretty hooked myself. Is he approaching this ‘dom’ thing as method-acting practice, or is it a genuine predilection? I rather hope I will get to find out.
‘How long have you two been playing together?’ asks Mal suddenly, and I dry up. We are going to be found out and kicked down the stairs by his rather sexy steel-capped boots. Or O’s gorgeous pointy stilettos. Either way.
But Dimitri saves the ball, apparently having presence of mind among his other skills. ‘Not long. Maybe six weeks,’ he says. ‘We are learning. She don’t have kinky lover before, but I do. Lots of kinky lovers for me.’
‘What a wonderful time you will have here,’ says O with a rather flirtatious smile. She fancies him! ‘I think you’re going to be valuable additions to our merry little band.’
‘And now,’ says Mal, leaning back to perch on his vast desk, ‘for your initiation. What do you want to show us?’
Dimitri looks down at me, awaiting my pleasure.
‘Um.’ I can’t hedge, I have to look confident, as if this is something I do all the time. ‘Maybe just a little spanking.’
‘Just a little one?’ He curls his lip and winks at me. I have to catch my breath. ‘OK.’ He takes off his battered leather jacket to reveal heavily tattooed arms. I try not to look too surprised at the colourful display but it’s hard not to stare.
‘Gorgeous work,’ purrs O. ‘I presume you had these done in Russia?’
‘Uh-huh,’ he says, throwing the jacket into the corner of the room with a fluid motion of his sinewy arm. ‘Can I get a chair, please?’
Mal obliges, pushing a plain wooden chair into the centre of the room.
‘Do you need any implements?’ he asks politely, then, registering Dimitri’s frown, he explains, ‘Straps, whips, you know.’
I put my hand on Dimitri’s forearm and grip it fearfully.
‘Oh, uh-huh. Well, maybe tonight Rosie is a little shy so I just use my hand, right? That’s OK?’
‘That’s fine,’ says O. ‘I love the intimacy of an old-fashioned hand spanking.’
Intimacy. I look down at what I’m wearing. A thick tweedy skirt for the autumn weather, diamond-patterned opaque tights over cotton boy shorts. Kinky it ain’t, unless you hanker after that librarian look. Will I have to … bare anything?