Yes, you must embrace the darkness around you, learn to love the way the unknown makes you feel.
I absolutely loved the beginning of my story about a kink club. I hadn’t really thought about going to one for a little while. I am in several groups on Fetlife that are the front page for many well known kink clubs in my immediate area. I so enjoy looking at the websites, imaging myself there and experiencing the entire club, drinking in the atmosphere. While you can certainly go alone and feel very safe, for me I want to share the entire moment with someone I trust very much. For me the reason is very personal but I think the addition of the journey into a D/s relationship can be very special.
I want to remind everyone, at least from my viewpoint is that BDSM and D/s lifestyles do not have to intertwine. Some D/s couples very much enjoy BDSM aspects. I personally think there is gravitation toward playtime, but to each their own. When you mix the concept of going to a club, allowing others to see what you’re doing, a moment of discipline or being tied naked in front of others, well you can imagine the angst. For a submissive, she has to feel safe in the arms of her Dom.
I had a fabulous discussion with John Patrick today. He loved the story, knowing I’d dreamt about the club experience. We were talking about the club and my mind somehow wandered to places I enjoyed – other than kinky spots. My favorite spot on earth is the beach – pretty much any beach – but St. Martin on the French side comes to mind. There are some of the most pristine beaches on earth there. He asked if I’d read to him in the sand, directly on the beach. I said of course. He further teased he’d spank me to start off the day right then after he’d get me a drink and rub my bruised ass with lotion prior to me reading. Isn’t that special as well as incredible? He seemed surprised when I told him a good submissive would garner her Master a drink.
Why do I tell you this? Well, I’ve learned something valuable about a D/s relationship – there is give and take. If a Master remains completely in a heavy handed Dom moment every minute, making his submissive nothing but a directed slave, there is little give and take. As John Patrick said to me – his responsibility is to take care of me and if he so desires to get me a drink, kiss me passionately or buy me a Valentine’s Day gift, then he IS going to do so. Do you think this kind of a Dom is going to give me the courage as well as the confidence to experience whatever in a kink club? The easy answer is very much so. I think that’s why this story is so very powerful. Let’s see what happens.
Damon breathed out, amazed at the woman who stood in front of him. They’d come a long way together over a relatively few short months. The chance meeting was something he’d never forget, one he hoped Camille would always remember with joy in her heart. What few knew in his inner circle was that he was a Dom, the need burning within him for several years. He’d only acted on his desires once, and the event had been less than lackluster. He trusted Camille above all others, allowing her into his inner dark side, the one he suspected would mortify the majority. “Do you know you need a hard spanking?” His excitement was increasing, his growing demand to discipline her something he hadn’t anticipated. He’d always thought the basic requirement would remain private. But now he wanted nothing more than to share the joy of what they experienced together. The closeness as well as the intensity of his raw emotions when he spanked her was heady indeed.
“Yes, sir,” Camille whispered. She remained studying the couple, unmoving yet her one hand was clenched around his knee. Her breathing shallow, the fingers of her other hand brushed back and forth across the swell of her breasts. Another hard crack laced along the reddened ass of the blond made her jump involuntarily.
“Ssshhh…” he breathed.
“I’m fine,” she stated, conviction in her voice. “It just he’s so harsh.”
“Perhaps she was a very willful girl tonight.”
“Perhaps.” A single smile curled on the corner of her mouth. Camille had called herself willful on several occasions.
Such a strong woman, yet he couldn’t help feel the need to protect her. He kept his hand in place surrounding her neck, the closeness as important for him as he could tell for her. “Why do you feel like you need to be disciplined?” Fingering the nape of her neck he turned his attention to the couple just as the waiter arrived, asking for a drink order. “Gin and tonic and cabernet for the lady.” He knew what she enjoyed in all things and he never hesitated in showering her with aspects of what she desired. Smiling, he also noted she made no attempt to order, nor did she bother to acknowledge the waiter’s presence. For her only Damon existed. He was forever humbled at the realization.
“Yes, sir,” the waiter said without looking at her, moving off into the darkness.
“Tell me. Why do you feel the need to be punished?” he asked again.
She gave him a darted glance before lowering her head. Breath sounds pushed past her lips. “I seem to continue to disobey you, even disrespect you. I never mean to do so, but I find ways.”
“And how do you disrespect me?” Easing off he bar stool he used his body to push her forward, enabling him to slide in behind. Moving his hands down to her hips, he pulled her ass against his groin. She whimpered as the material slid across her already spanked ass. The session had been light, merely a reminder of what would come, but she acknowledged the change in position by issuing a whispered moan. He needed to be as close as possible, touching every part of her.
“By not obeying you. By not calling you Sir when I should and by wanting to orgasm.” The last words were offered with a slight laugh.
“And?” Damon wanted to challenge her, have her think about every moment they were together. He realized his personality was intense. His need to have her become a part of every aspect of his life at times was all encompassing – perhaps too much so.
“And,” Camille whispered. “I don’t know if I’m a very good submissive.”
For the first time he heard a moment of frailty in her voice, a sound he hadn’t anticipated. He couldn’t help but believe in his soul he’d failed her somehow. Wrapping his arms around her he sighed. “You’re an amazing woman first, a fabulous submissive second. The woman inside, the one with the big brain, is the woman I enjoy training, teaching and the one I adore. Never do you disrespect me, at least on purpose.” Chuckling, he turned her around and rubbed the tip of his finger across the seam of her mouth. “Disobey is something else entirely.” Slipping his hand into the bodice of her corset, he pinched her nipple, twisting the tender flesh.
“Oh.” Her sharp moan was followed by a smile. “I know, Sir.”
He laughed as the waiter approached then tugged on her chain, solidifying the connection shared. “Enjoy, my sweet. We’ll discover the rest of the club in a few minutes.” Handing her the glass of wine, he allowed himself a moment to study their surroundings, the very interesting group of people filling nearly every corner. The music was the right mixture of sexual intensity as well as gothic charm. The club was setting a provocative tone with various hues of blue and violet lighting illuminating strategic spaces, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla and the sounds of flogging and fucking permeating the air. He swirled the drink in his glass and even from where they were sitting he could see various rooms positioned in various locations on the outer walls. Their entrances were highlighted, a draw for those seeking more than eclectic music and drink. The obvious loft upstairs also held what had to be playrooms. He knew that certain portions of the club were by strict invitation only. Perhaps at some point they’d gain enough clout to enter the halls of darkness.
“May I ask you something?” Camille sipped her wine, the look on her face one of intensity.
“You can ask me anything.”
“Are you proud to be here with me?”
The question was almost perfect timing. He took a gulp of his drink, eased the glass down and took her glass from her hand. “Proud as well as honored. You told me in the beginning of our journey you had to trust me enough as a friend to submit to me.”
“You are my friend. You’re my friend and my lover, my Master and the man I adore. Don’t you know that?”
“I do. But do you trust me?”
“With everything in my heart and soul.” She seemed taken aback. Cupping his chin, she rubbed her finger around his mouth before smiling and looking down. “Never doubt I do.”
He held out his hand. “Good, my dearest. Allow me to show you off.”
“Show me off, huh?”
Kissing her hand Damon raised a single eyebrow. “You know how I am and show you off what?”
“Sir!” Her eyes flashing she laughed.
“I think someone needs a reminder of her place.” He led her through the crowd, his eyes capturing the different couples in various states of dress and undress. Every Dom was never far from his submissive. He chuckled as he overheard conversations and caught certain inflections from Camille as she so obviously disapproved of many behaviors, from both Dom and sub. “Are you learning anything my sweet?”
“Mmm… Yes, sir I am but in truth I’m not certain you want to hear.”
Bursting into laughter he rubbed the small of her back, savoring the way the leather cuff felt against his wrist. “You will tell me later, my dear.”
“Yes sir. I know I will.”
He caught her rolling her eyes and shook his head. She was a wildcat indeed. They moved from room to room and much was to be as expected. Certain apparatuses crowded the interior, along with many couples waiting their turn to experience a moment of playtime. From whipping stations to fire cupping, so many aspects of BDSM was represented. Damon made mental note of her likes and moments of raw need brimming on her face. When they came to a room that was seductive in nature, beautiful in coloration, and sensual in appearance, he sighed. “What do you see, my dearest submissive?”
Tilting her head she scanned the room. “Hmm… Not what I was expecting.”
“I thought you might like.” He’d asked specifically about a spanking room, not one for tying her to the “X” Cross or over a whipping bench, but one designed for something softer in nature. Well, as soft as a good belting could allow. The various leather couches and banks of pillows added to the ambiance, one inviting in nature. He pushed her inside gently and they stood as voyeurs as several women as well as men were disciplined by various implements. One entire wall was dedicated to all types of paddles and whips, floggers and canes. The selection was endless and like a candy store for those seeking to inflict the correct punishment.
“You have to be kidding me?” Camille laughed.
“The perfect location for my disobedient sub. Don’t you think?”
She huffed and nodded. “Yes, sir, but interesting.”
“Good girl and you’re right. I know how much you enjoy something interesting. I think we may begin another round of discipline here.” He anticipated push back, a cry of disdain. When she remained quiet, her eyes twinkling, he realized taking them both to another level was just what they needed.
When a spot on a pile of red velvet pillows became available he nodded to the attendant and was allowed to take his place. Damon moved her forward and when they were just in front he cupped her breasts, squeezing until she yelped. “Another chapter, my sweet.”
“Mmm… Yes, sir.” Camille lolled her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.
He continued kneading for a few seconds as he was deciding what implement to use. The truth was he wasn’t interested in an unknown tarse or a cane of some unusual wood tonight. As he took a step back and unfastened her skintight skirt, tugging the material to the floor, he sighed. There was nothing more intimate than spanking her with his own belt, one weathered from time and usage and the one he usually wore. Black in color, the well-worn piece was his favorite and one she knew well.
She shuddered when he pulled off her skirt, exposing her naked ass. The slip of material from her thong would do little to thwart off the strikes. “Oh, I…”
“Twenty lashes with my belt tonight for mouthing off earlier.” Turning her around, he nodded toward the silver buckle.
Biting her lower lip she fumbled to unfasten the hard clip, her entire body quivering. She blinked furiously when she finally completed the task and slowly lifted her head. “Yes, sir.”
As he removed the thick leather strap, tugging the inch thick piece from his belt loops, he kept his eyes on hers. There were conflicting thoughts and emotions racing through them but ultimately he could see one aspect, something that never wavered. Complete trust. And he was in awe of her.
Well, I think I’ll stop here and allow your mind to consider what Camille might be thinking. Have you ever ventured into one of these clubs, become a voyeur as others were disciplined? Mmm… Would you enjoy? Let me know…
Kisses and spanks