Kinky

As the dom fiddles with straps, I hazard a shy glance up at Dimitri, whose eyes have darkened in fascination. His hand appears to have come to rest on my hip and he is closer to me, almost holding me against him, like a lover would.

He breaks his gaze and swivels it in my direction. ‘What do you think?’ he asks.

‘What do I think? What do you mean?’

‘This is interesting to you? You feel it makes you hot?’

I laugh nervously. The ambient temperature of this dungeon is rather cold, but I hadn’t noticed until he mentioned it. ‘It’s interesting, of course. Hard not to be interested in girls strapped to crosses getting flogged. It’s like an old Hammer horror movie.’

‘But it don’t make you hot?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Really? You think?’

He grimaces, as if I’ve mortally offended him, and his attention reverts to Kiki, whose plump rounded arse now faces us. Another stranger’s bare bum in my sights – how many more can I expect to see tonight?

The whip is applied to back and bottom, covering her skin with fascinating line drawings until the lines begin to fill and she is a mass of raised welts.

She doesn’t utter a single cry.

‘Why is she so quiet?’ I ask Dimitri.

He shrugs. ‘Well training, I think. Is nice effect with the whip, I like.’

The dom steps back and drops the whip. ‘Now, this particular cross,’ he says, somewhat hoarsely, ‘has a special extra feature.’ He puts a hand on the external wheel and spins. Kiki’s body performs one whole revolution. ‘It spins. My colleague Ricardo and his submissive Jared are going to show you how you can utilise this to best effect – I’m not quite the expert with a bullwhip I’d like to be, so I’m handing over to him now.’

Unexpectedly, the spinning bullwhip demonstration provides an oasis of relief in my desert of squirmy arousal. It’s too circus-act-like to turn me on and my clit returns to normal dimensions, breath speeding from my lungs as if released from long incarceration. All the same, it’s fascinating to watch and I bite my lip on Jared’s behalf, watching the welts rise across his pale flesh.

‘Would you whip men as well as women?’ I ask Dimitri. ‘In your new career?’

‘Sure, why not? An ass is an ass, right?’

‘And would you offer sexual favours too?’

‘No, I don’t offer sex. Just domination, right? Maybe I fuck somebody with a dildo, who knows? I think this thing through later.’ The succession of ‘th’ sounds nearly ties his tongue and he stumbles over the words, but I get their sense.

Fair enough.

We watch the show to the bittersweet end.

Jared, released from the cross, falls on to all fours and pushes his arse up for his master, but Ricardo just laughs and swats it.

‘No way, baby,’ he says. ‘Nearly time for Share a Slave, and you’re on the list, boy.’

Amid applause, he collars Jared and leads him, every inch the proud owner, out of the dungeon.

‘Share a slave, huh?’ Dimitri raises an eyebrow at me. ‘You think we can watch?’

‘Only one way to find out.’

Chapter Three

The crowd begins to turn and flow out of the dungeon, heading back up the stairs.

‘Where’s this boudoir then?’ I wonder, but obviously there is no need to ask – they will lead us there.

Many people spill back into the café but others ascend to the upper floor, where the handsome barista presides with a clipboard in front of a door plastered in flock wallpaper and decorated with obscene cherubs.

‘Sorry, guest list only,’ he tells us. ‘Our multi-partner events are limited to thirty ticket holders. There’s another one next month, if you want to sign up.’

‘Is some kind of orgy?’ Dimitri asks.

‘Some kind of.’ The barista smiles. ‘The café is still open, with a licensed bar, if you want to carry on socialising.’

‘OK, thanks.’

‘So that’s that,’ I say, once we are back in the café. ‘Kinky Cupcake in a nutshell. Or a cake wrapper.’

Dimitri is busy looking at a pinboard full of business cards and leaflets offering specialist services. ‘You see,’ he says. ‘This can work. Nearly all these are women. Dominatrix … dominatrix … submissive girls … girls need a spanking … I spank bad boys … so far no man advertise.’

‘That could be something to do with market forces,’ I point out gently, then a horrible, horrible thought knocks me for six. Markets. Business. Advertising. ‘Fuck!’

Dimitri turns to me. ‘That is an order?’

‘Tch. No, I mean, fuck! I haven’t finished the air-freshener campaign. I’m going to get it right in the neck. Look, I have to go. Maybe if I do a bit of work from home … but all the stuff is in the office – shit.’

‘Hey, calm, calm.’ Dimitri puts his hands over my arms, reining in some of my wilder gesticulations. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I have a presentation to give tomorrow, but when I saw the light coming from here, I left work before I was ready. I have to finish this work! But the office is closed until seven now. And the presentation is at nine. I’m doomed. Haven’t even got a slogan, let alone the PowerPoint.’

‘You panic, don’t panic. You work …’ He waves a hand in the direction of my office. ‘Right?’

‘Yeah. Over the road.’

‘Come on. I get you in there.’

‘What?’

He doesn’t answer and I’m reduced to trotting across the café and down the stairs after him, voicing questions to the air around me. ‘What do you mean, get me in there?’

It’s chilly on the street outside. I wrap myself in my coat and frown at Dimitri, who is standing, stroking his chin and staring at my office.

‘We go round the back,’ he says eventually.

‘Dimitri, we are not breaking into my workplace! We just aren’t. There’s a security guard!’

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