Femdom fun (part 1)

            “Troy, come on!” Mickey calls.

            We’re out for our friend’s bachelor party, or I wouldn’t even considering going into a place called ‘Kink Palace’. Really, it doesn’t seem like a place Rob would like, but I’m the only guest who shows any hesitation.

            Rob pats my back. “I need to see you all live vicariously, man.”

            “I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” I scoff.

            “You’re in charge in the boardroom, just let go right now. Have some fun,” Rob encourages.

            We head inside and, right away, we’re swept to another world. Inside is some kind of open floorplan mansion on the bottom floor. It’s opulent, dressed in neon lights as scantily clad women and men dance around. When I look up, I see people leaning over some stone railing from hallways above and dancers in cages.

            There’s no harm in pretending to be someone else for a night, right? A few women glance at us and look away, wearing collars around their necks. They’re all shy and cute, the exact kind of woman I normally go for.

            I prefer predictability.

            We get a few drinks and then we’re on the dance floor. The music pounds through my body pushing the alcohol to my brain so much faster. I lose track of the guys among all the eager women, determined to have a dance partner if they can’t have anything else.

            The crowd is so thick with bodies I can’t even spot Rob’s crown. We tried to make him impossible to lose so he gets to the rehearsal and everything else tomorrow.

            I push through some people, then go stand at the side to catch my breath. I undo a few buttons on my shirt and lean back against the wall, closing my eyes. I smell leather, latex, body odor, and too many perfumes to keep track of.

            Then I hear moaning and a kind of ‘crack’ I’ve only heard on T.V. I glance at the red-lit hallway beside me with confusion. A woman stands on the opposite side of the entrance, wearing a black dress that forms to her body, but leaves her sides revealed. There’s lacing the crisscrosses down to her hip before the strings dangle temptingly over her thigh.

            She has on platform leather boots that still match the elegance and sex-appeal of her dress. I lift my gaze to her face and find deep red lipstick, intense dark eye-makeup that turns her from woman to devilish succubus.

            When she notices me, she holds my gaze. The corner of her mouth lifts and she faces me head on, unlike most of the women here, unlike most of the women I’ve met in my life.

            I’m a big man, I know that. I hit the gym, take pride in my appearances, and apparently have some kind of domineering air based on who I attract. A woman watching me so intensely and so easily is brand new and snares my attention immediately.

            She crosses the space between us, lifting her chin as she approaches. She wraps her hand around my loose tie and jerks me towards her as she tightens it. “Have you been a bad boy tonight?”

            “Maybe I have,” I shrug. “Why?”

            She licks over her bottom lip as she invades my bubble. “Don’t worry about my reasons. Dance with me.”

            “Well, I was catching my breath.”

            “You sound like you’ve already achieved that,” She presses her boy against mine. Thanks to her heels, she’s my height exactly and her dark eyes are inescapable.

            I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through her black hair just to touch her, but I have more control than that.

            “I don’t know your name,” I counter.

            “Names are unimportant for a good time.” With that, she drags me to the dance floor.

            The way she moves is intoxicating. She knows exactly what she offers and doesn’t play shy or demure. Whenever I get too far away for her liking, she jerks me back against her body by my tie.

            It feels like a leash in her hands, but anytime the fabric tightens around my neck, excitement spreads across my skin. She leans closer to me, like she might kiss me. When I lean in, she draws back, maintaining that millimeter of space.

            If I was sober, I’d move on. I’d be tracking down Rob, rejoining the party. It has to be the alcohol that has me eager to let her lead me around.

            After another four songs and multiple almost kisses, she leads me to the bar. She orders for me, before I can, then rubs her heel over my calf while looking me over appreciatively.

            “What do you do for a living, stranger?”

            “Troy,” I correct. “My name is Troy.”

            She pulls my glass away from me slightly. “I didn’t ask for your name. I asked what you do for a living.”

            That hard, smoky edge to her voice sinks under my skin. I sit up taller. “I’m C.O.O. of a production company. What about you?” I have to yell over the music.

            She places a hand on my knee, then uses her foot to drag my stool closer. Her fingers glide up my thigh until our chairs bump together. Both of her thighs are on full display, the black strip of her dress dangles between her legs.

            My mouth waters at the view, the complete confidence she wears. Her lips brush my ear. “I’m a personal trainer.”

            “Oh,” I breathe.

            “Isn’t it exhausting barking orders all day?” Her fingernail continues tracing little designs on my thigh. “Don’t you just want to relax and let someone else take control?”

            “I could ask you the same.”

            “I love giving orders. I like making sure my orders are followed too.”

            I swallow hard. “How so?”

            “Rewards,” she answers before I feel her smile against my throat, “and punishments.”

            This conversation shouldn’t be so hot. We keep talking. She’s clear and direct, but I appreciate it. We actually talk about who we are, not about the weather. When she laughs, I feel like I’ve earned something. Every now and again, she finds an excuse to touch me, a way to tease me with a certain word, an insinuation, even a look. I feel like she’s trying to pick me up, or she’s offering me something, but I don’t know what.

            “Considering you’re in a club like this, I can only imagine that you’re curious about dominating or finally submitting.”

            “It’s a bachelor’s party,” I explain.

            She draws back and looks me over again. She shrugs and gets up, grabbing my chin and making me face her. “Shame, I was interested in playing with you.”    

            “Who says you can’t?”

            Her lips turn up in a wicked grin. “I’m not sure you could keep up, sweetheart.”

            “You could be right. I’m used to being in control and there’s no shortage of women here,” I bait her.

            She shrugs. “And no shortage of boys who I can turn into men.”

            She takes a few steps away and looks over her shoulder. “Make your decision. Do you want to earn a night with me, or keep exhausting yourself with decisions and commands?”

            I notice Rob watching me. He motions for me to go, no questions ask. I stand and adjust my tie before following her. “Let’s get something clear before we do anything, I don’t beg for what I want. I get it, give plenty, then I leave.”

            She laughs and strokes through my short hair before grabbing the back of my neck and jerking me against her. Our noses brush and I realize I’m panting. No woman has ever grabbed me like that. She looks over my face, then her hand strokes down my body, stopping at my belt.

            “Naughty boys don’t get to cum, toy. You’ll be begging for plenty before you leave.”

            Instead of kissing me, letting me kiss her, or continuing on her path, she gently presses her lush lips to the corner of my mouth, then to my ear. “If you follow me into my room, you’re mine for the night. You get a safe word, but in my room, you obey my rules to get what you want.”

            I take a ragged breath. “We’ll see.”

            “It’s been so long since I’ve had a brat to play with.” She lets her fingers slide over my shoulder, then grips my tie, dragging me along behind her.

            Somehow, this woman looks even sexier under the red lights. I still have no idea where we’re going or what’s going on. I’ve heard of kinks. I’ve seen plenty of things in porn, but when I get a glance into some of the rooms, it’s more than I expect.

            Some people are being whipped and fucked at the same time.

            Some people are begging for something as simple as a touch.

            Women and men, men and men, women and women, even whole groups are finding their own brands of ecstasy. I swallow with difficulty. I should find this ridiculous, impersonal, even tacky, but I can’t deny the tightening in my belly.

            It’s hot. Really hot.

            “So these rooms are ...”

            “Bought in advanced and used consensually.” She answers simply.

            She stops in front of one that has black leather furniture and looks more like a torture chamber than a place to fuck. Then again, I’ve gone as far as having sex in a church, so maybe having sex in a place like this would absolve me of that sin.

            The woman releases my tie and slowly steps back into the room. She never looks away from me. “In here you get to call me one thing and one thing only.”

            “Your name?” I ask.

            “Mistress,” the correction is immediate. “If you come in here, my rules are law. My punishments are unquestioned, rewards are mine to give, and you get a safe word.”

            “What else do I get?”

            “That depends on how good you are,” her lips curl up. “Your safe word is ‘pumpkin’. You say that and I’ll release you, make sure you’re okay, get you water, and ensure that you’re good to walk away.”  

            “Will the door be closed?”

            There’s victory in her eyes. “Of course. I don’t share.”

            Well, try everything once, right?

I cross the doorway and Mistress smiles. This all feels kind of silly, but she shows me a few things. There are handcuffs dangling just low enough that my feet would support me on the floor, but I’d be all kinds of stretched out, she shows me a ‘crop’ as she calls it, though it looks like one of those short horse whips, a cage that would obviously go around my cock, and a dildo.

            “Listen, I have to draw some lines. No cages, no dildo,” I say clearly.

            “Bondage?”

            “Sure.”

            She catches my tie and pulls me against her. she backs me up, then smiles. “The second I saw you tonight, I knew I wanted you.”

            “Oh.” The intensity in her eyes, the way she makes me feel hot all over and seen among a crowd definitely has my attention.