“Jeez, this outfit is tight,” Kathryn muttered under her breath. Fidgeting, she tugged the ultra-short skirt of her sexy outfit lower, as far as it would stretch, her futile attempt to keep her coochie from hypothermia.
She took a sharp look around Club Lazarus. The lighting was dim, but not dark, and she could make out the halls beyond the great foyer. The energy was vibrant and electric, intoxicating and mysterious.
But does it have to be so damn cold?
She’d imagined her first time at a BDSM club required a certain look. This was the tightest skirt she owned, and the highest heels. With a lace corset she’d bought on a whim and vowed she’d never wear, her risqué ensemble wasn’t half bad, but she cursed herself for not bringing a jacket. The room’s temperature rivaled that of a vodka bar, though it probably kept sweat to a minimum. And without a doubt, people came to sweat.
Her date seemed just as reluctant, second-guessing his outfit the whole ride over.
“Tight?” Julian huffed. “Try squeezing into this.”
Kathryn stole a daring glance, scanning her best friend’s bare and hairless chest, past the six-pack that was the result of his suicide-inducing no-sugar diet, finally down to his package.
Medically speaking, Julian was endowed. Nonmedically, the man was a stallion. A stallion that broke one too many a woman’s heart with the mournful news that he was gay.
The pleather ensemble securing his manhood was being stretched well beyond its strength and integrity. The man was a deep breath away from slicing through his pants like butter with the cock he’d aptly named Excalibur. Admittedly, his ass looked smoking hot in it, which made Kathryn half consider trying those ridiculous squats he always yammered on about.
“Trust me,” he said. “For person or persons I hook up with tonight, no need to spring for lube. I’m covered,” he said, gesturing to his thighs where his pants clung like Saran Wrap.
Horrified, Kathryn let out a gasp. “Your leggings are full of lube?”
“There was no way this look was happening unless Daddy topped off the tank.”
“Good luck getting those babies off.”
“That, my dear Kathryn, is what my Dom is for.”
She slammed her eyes shut. “I weep for your dry cleaner.”
“Don’t weep too hard. My dry cleaning paid for his Tesla. Morty has no complaints.”
“My ten bucks says Morty never gives you a discount, either.”
“Look, it was this or a slingshot.”
“The term is mankini,” Kathryn said, correcting him as she pantomimed a V from his shoulders to his crotch.
Julian scoffed. “The term is painful. You take a speedo, and stretch the band halfway to Canada getting it up and over your shoulders. Trust me, these might as well be my buffet pants for how comfy they are compared to a pair of those.” He propped his hands on his hips and looked around the club’s exquisite lobby where they waited. “Tell me again why you wanted me here and not Jake.”
Yeah. She’d been a little vague. Intentionally so.
Kathryn shrugged, focusing her attention on tugging up her strapless corset. Her boobs were a quarter inch away from popping out. “I just wanted to check it out.”
Yes, she’d just wanted to check out a lifestyle club way across town. To see what she was in for. And with Jake taking his sweet time bringing her, she couldn’t help the increasing number of questions she had about it. And it was the one club he hadn’t been to, based on the snooping she’d done with their phone-finder app, so the chance of running into him here was nil.
“It’s no big deal,” she said to Julian. “I just want to see what I’m in for.”
Tired of waiting, she took a few determined steps toward the unmanned reception desk and scanned the back room for the attendant. Or bouncer. Or whoever might give them entry. Normally, she’d bypass all this gatekeeper bullshit, but this was a house of BDSM, and punishment, no doubt, would be swift.
“Wait. You mean for the first time?” Julian took a cautious step back as his eyes grew alarmingly wide. “Without Jake? Are you telling me Jake doesn’t know you’re here? We’re here?”
Meekly, she shook her head, swallowing the guilt of misleading both Julian and Jake.
“Wow. You really have no idea how this Dom/sub thing works. Coming to a club without your Dom? You won’t be able to sit for a week.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll just explain.”
With a wary scoff, Julian cupped her cheek. “That’ll sort of be hard with a ball gag lodged in your mouth.”
Before Kathryn could give several very logical and reasonable explanations for why she’d venture to a club without her Dom, the man she would marry, a woman hurried to the front desk to greet them.
“Sorry for your wait. Someone called out sick. I’m—”
“Andi,” Kathryn said, the name lodging in her throat. Her student had completely transformed, with her black pixie cut slicked back, and her breasts a sigh away from spilling out of a bright red corset dress, her dark eyes pinned Kathryn’s.
Andi’s spark of recognition was instant, brightening her face with a friendly smile. “Right, Kathryn. Or is it Kat?” Andi leaned in, her tone reassuring as she said, “It’s all right. What happens here, stays here. Locked up like Vegas.”
Kill me now.
“Actually,” Julian said, “tonight, let’s call her Lolita.”
Considering the options, Kathryn played along. After all, this was a place to shed your inhibitions with the occasional alias.
Standing taller and pushing out her girls proudly, Kathryn accepted her stage name. For the next hour or so, she would be Lolita. Daring with a naughty side that said anything goes.
In truth, nothing would be going. It would be like strolling through Jared’s. Just browsing. No payment plans. Not buying.
I am, after all, engaged.
Andi took several exaggerated pecks at the keyboard. “Lo-li-ta,” she said, sounding out the name for effect before giving Kathryn a wink. “And who’s your friend, Lolita?”
With a few brisk pats on Julian’s back, Kathryn said, “This is . . . Bucky.” The laugh she nearly snorted out was instantly quieted by Julian’s scowl.
But before he could object, Andi hit those five little keys.
“B-u-c-k-y.” She pecked in his alias, then return her smile to them both. “Great. Lolita and Bucky.” Tilting her head, Andi sized up the two of them before locking her gaze with Kathryn’s. “Does your sub need a preference sheet?”
Why am I the Dom?
Giddy, Julian patted her shoulder. “Fear not, little girl. Someday you’ll be a real sub.”
“Perhaps I should have worn my pleather leggings. Too bad I forgot to pick up my gallon of lube.” Redirecting her attention to Andi, Kathryn said, “I’m a sub too. And no need for his preference sheet. Bucky here hands them out like business cards.”
“Speaking of business cards,” Andi said, frowning as she lightly bit her lower lip and scanned the computer screen. “I don’t see either of your names in the system as members, and unless you’ve been vouched for by a member and vetted, you can’t enter. I’d like to help, but I don’t know you well enough to let you in.” Andi glanced away, avoiding a confrontation.
“Oh, didn’t I give you the name up front?” Julian said. “Jake Russo.”
As Andi looked it up, Kathryn tossed him an annoyed glare.
“Ah, yes. Of course. Mr. Russo—I mean, Bucky. And thank you for your membership. Is there anything I can get either of you before you enter?”
She gestured to the wall of erotic paraphernalia behind her, including clamps, plugs, and every type of dildo known to man, woman, and in the infinite words of Kinky Boots, “those who have yet to decide.” A glossy whip drew Kathryn’s interest for half a second before she noticed various types of bondage gear. Especially the ropes.
“We have a membership sale going on. Twenty-percent off everything.”
“Ooh, a sale. Am I able to charge it to my account?” Julian asked enthusiastically. Kathryn gave his arm a chastising smack.
Julian grinned. “And you wonder why people think you’re a Dom.”
“Yes. And we have more exclusive items in our high-end room, if you need to take a look,” Andi said, but both Kathryn and Julian shook their heads, polite as they declined. “His and hers locker rooms are down the hall. Towels and water are in every room. Red is the recognized safe word by all Dungeon Masters. If you prefer another one, please notify them. And we recommend you stay out of the Abyss unless you know what you’re doing.”
“I’d seriously kill for your cocktail list,” Kathryn said hopefully as she licked her lips, and was surprised by Julian’s jab to her ribs. Glaring at him, she huffed out, “Ow.”
Julian barked out a laugh. His fake laugh. With that, along with his actor’s smile and stern brows, she got it. Julian’s warning was clear. She was far from Kansas, and asking for a drink was committing some bizarre club faux pas.
I just want to take the edge off. How wrong can it be?
“Honey,” he said in a scolding tone. “You know there’s no alcohol in here.”
What the hell?
“Right. There’s not.” Kathryn leaned close to his ear. “It’s BYOB?”
“It’s a place where everyone holds tight to their faculties. At all times,” he said low through clenched teeth. “Actually . . .” He turned his attention back to Andi, reigniting his winning smile. “Dirty Lolita could use her own preference sheet. And a pen.”
Andi handed a clear clipboard to Kathryn with a sheet of paper and a bright red pen. “It’s double-sided,” she said, pointing helpfully to the sheet.
“Oh, I don’t . . .” Kathryn paused before handing it back. Along the left-hand side was a laundry list of possibilities, though it was customized a little differently than the one Jake had given her.
The dizzying list of restraints and gags alone boggled her mind. When she reviewed five different types of gags, she instinctively blurted, “I’m allergic to adhesive.”
Both Andi and Julian stared and blinked.
Tapping the sheet with his finger, Julian pointed to the box she should mark. “Hard limit, honey.”
“You can take that with you,” Andi said. “Maybe work through it as you move into various areas of play. Need me to show you around?”
“No. We’re good. Thanks.” Julian hooked an arm through Kathryn’s, leading her away while humming the tune to “We’re Off to See the Wizard.”
The man needs help.