“Shelly please!” Jayne protested, but it was a half hearted protest, as she awkwardly took the first few steps from the changing room through the door to the Club, tottering on her unfamiliar high heels, her simple black rubber dress folded down to show her breasts with the nipple camps and chains sweeping up to her collar and unsighted in her blindfold, she sensed rather than saw the door way, felt the change from concrete to boarded floor and stopped obediently as Shelly yanked on her leash.
“Turn left and down the stairs,” Shelly ordered, “Be careful,”
There were voices, louder now, getting louder all the time, Jayne had no idea that she was descending into a replica of an ancient dungeon, or that she came into view feet first or that half dozen men were drinking bottled beer or coke from the improvised bar at the other end of the room, away from the curved brick vaulting of the dungeon area.
Shelly made sure Jayne was all the way to the bottom of the stairs and turned her to the right to face the bar before she made an announcement, “My Lords Ladies and Gentlemen, May I present your ‘Whore de Jour,’ Plane Jane, Nine ninety nine a fuck Gentlemen.”
“What about you Shell!” someone shouted,
“Call it a hundred Stan,” Shelly replied, “Two hundred seeing as it’s you.”
“Oh god please no Shelly,” Jayne stammered, her voice quailing but even as she spoke she knew her juices were churning as never before.
“What about you John?” Shelly asked.
“Nine ninety nine, really?” Jayne heard the pleasant mid atlantic accent of an anonymous businessman enquire, “Really?”
“Sort of loss leader, she needs the practice.” Shelly explained.
“Oh she’s sweet, she’s blushing Shelly,” John said as he approached, Jayne had no idea John was dressed in a simple pair of shorts as required by the dress code for straight guys, shorts for straight guys,raher than the swimming trunks or shorts displaying the bum cheeks for gays, while it was accepted all the girls were bi.
Jayne stood still through the banter, it didn’t seem real, it was all surreal and she convinced herself that they were just playing a trick on her, even as Shelly gave John change from a twenty and handed him a condom and Jayne’s leash she still thought it was a trick.
But when John whispered, “What a pretty little thing, such pretty ears,” he said as he kissed her ear, “Such a pretty neck,” he kissed her neck, “Such pretty titties,” he said rhyming the two words before he kissed the end of her erect left nipple just beyond the clamp making her gasp with pleasure, “And why is your sweet little cunt all hidden.” he asked, “Is it because it’s a nasty dirty fuck hole, is that why you’re so cheap!”
“Noo” Jayne protested, but John had already grasped her rubber tube dress and was pulling it down, “Please, don’t,” Jayne pleaded.
“Oh but its a beautiful little pussy, all waxed oh it’s sweet,” John said perhaps sarcastically, but he had to admit it was beautifully proportioned, and he felt the reassuring surge of blood to his loins as his penis began to strain the front of his shorts like a tent pole.
“I think it’s time John,” Shelly said, “Cubicle or whipping rail?”
John looked around, there was hardly anyone in. It was too early for a crowd, there were two private cubicles with doors and locks and two semi private without doors but no one was using the whipping rail, right in the middle of the vaulted dungeon section well almost the middle it was slightly to one side of where the stairs came down from the shop, a rail adjustable in height which girls, or boys could bend over to be whipped, or entered from behind.
“Rail, I think.” John chose instantly, “Come on Plane Jane.”
“It’s Jayne with a wye,” Jayne said automatically.
“John with an h,” John replied equally automatically as he tugged and guided Jayne to the rail.
John turned her around, made her face the wall and then he made her bend.
Shelly helped pull the pins and helped John to adjust the whipping rail in its A frames until the height was perfect and then he gently made Jayne bend right over the rail, she thoughtb she might fall forward but then reassuringly she felt John move up behind her, she sensed him, sensed his warmth, sensed his smart business suit where he was bare legged, sensed his rugged masculinity, and sensed his utter contempt for her.
Jayne almost cried out, but in her heart she knew this was what she needed sheer unadulterated raw sex, with a stranger she need never see again, need never see at all.
John’s fingers explored her first, “For heavens sake she’s on fire Shell, what have you been doing?” he asked.
“Stop talking and start doing John,” Shelly retorted and next Jayne thrilled to the feel of Johns beautifully streamlined manhood sliding smoothly into her, she gasped in excitement and relief as she had a sudden last minute fear that he might spear her bum instead, and then the familiar buzzing, pulsing, heart throbbing, pounding ecstasy as John began to ride her.
Suddenly Shelly whipped off Jaynes blindfold and there upside down between her own glossy boots and between Johns bare and hairy legs she could see the club patrons watching her, a barman, an ageing docker or manual worker, an effeminate peroxide blonde bottle tanned man in lederhosen, a thirty something woman dressed completely in black leather, from her long black leather coat, to her boots and there were more people coming down the spiral staircase at the other end of the room, Jane cringed with embarrassment squeezing John and then quite suddenly Shelly put her blindfold back on again and her world was just her and John once more.
Jayne was drifting in a balloon over Galway bay, dancing on clouds, riding a dolphin, drifting through space, lost in an intense world of John’s throbbing pistoning cock and the tricks her mind was playing.
“Goo,” Jayne manage to say, “So goo,” like a baby saying “Good,” and then came the throbbing and the rush and frustration as he started to jerk yet the the condom contained his juices, the juices she needed inside her, that same rush of semen she craved to flood her, to wash away her need, to cleanse her soul and scour away the hurt, but the condom meant it never came, such promise such excitement such anticlimax.
Jane quietly whispered her safe word, a string of obscenities which could not be mistaken.
“John,” Shelly said quietly, “Safe word.”
“Oh christ, what’s wrong Jayne with a Y?” he asked, “I’m sorry, it was good for me, was I too rough, what was wrong?”
“Safe word John, no questions, no arguing, you know the rules.” Shelly insisted, and she helped Jayne to stand.
There was a ripple of polite applause and then Shelly guided Jayne back to the stairs and back up to the changing room, “Turn left and up the stairs,” she whispered and “It’s all right Jayne, don’t worry,” Shelly added and she guided Jayne into the changing room again and shut and locked the door to the club before she turned and went to remove Jayne’s blindfold.
Shelly paused, she wondered what she would find there, tears, hatred, fear perhaps, but when finally she peeled the blindfold away there was only sorrow and not tears in Jayne’s brown eyes as she blinked in the sudden bright light.
Shelly wondered what to say as stepped across to an anonymous grey locker, “There’s a sink and mirror behind this locker door,” she explained, “And a shower room if you pull that locker out like this.” She added as she tugged and another anonymous double locker swung forward easily revealing the shower room beyond.
Jayne paused as she saw Shelly looking at her, saw Shelly had her black latex dress over her arm, “I don’t have all day?” Shelly insisted, “Cuffs?”
“Oh, ah yes,” Jayne remembered, she placed the edge of the left cuff’s velcro strap against a locker and with a ripping tearing noise the cuff came open.
Suddenly she felt terribly embarrassed, it was fine while she had the illusion that she was helpless but now she realised to her horror that at any time she could have freed herself.
“Jayne your bushing, didn’t you realise you cold get free any time?” Shelly asked.
Jayne, suppressed a smile and a giggle, as she freed her other hand and went to unzip her boots, “Phew, can I leave this stuff here?” she asked, “Only Henry might not understand.”
“Of course, use the locker with Jayne on.” Shelly suggested, and then she asked “Jayne, downstairs, what was wrong?”
“The condom,”Jayne explained as she pulled her boots off, “I want to feel a man spurt, you know, and it was so good and then suddenly it didn’t happen.”
“We can’t Jayne, not with Aids,” Shelly said sadly, “But next time well, we’ll maybe try something better?”
“Ok,” Jayne agreed but they both knew Jayne would never be back.
Jayne put her boots by the locker and undid her collar, “Careful, let me,” Shelly cautioned, “Don’t let it hang from the chains,”
“Oh god yes,” Jayne gasped, as she realised the collar was still chained to her nipple clamps.
“They would have sprung off but it doesn’t half sting!” Shelly commented as she unclipped the chromium nipple clamps allowing the circulation to return to Jayne’s tortured nipples.
Jayne gasped with the thrill of the returning sensation in her formerly numbed nipples, they stung and throbbed and tingled in the most delicious manner, but she resisted the temptation and quickly slipped her sensible white bra with sensible soft supportive cups on which comforted her softly.
Jayne slipped her tights and panties on and then used the sink to wash and the mirror to do her makeup and ten minutes later Shelly let Jayne out through the side door into a narrow alleyway and into the cold London evening mist.
“I’ll see you?” Shelly suggested, “Bye,”
“Yes, ah, thanks, I think!” Jayne laughed and she walked off towards the station and normality.
Jayne glanced up at the clock outside the underground station, she hardly believed what she saw, could it be barely an hour since she tried to pay for her shopping, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out her cell phone “Hi Henry,” she said as the answerphone message cut in, “Can we give it a miss tonight? I’m running late, bye.” and then she disappeared into the station foyer and took the short ride to her home.
The flat seemed somehow cold and unfriendly, she microwaved her frozen meal, the TV seemed more boring than usual and she decided on a hot bath and an early early night.
She lay in the bath for ages, thinking about Henry, work, life and then as the water cooled she dried herself in her favourite big fluffy bath towel and went to the bedroom, the bed seemed cold and unfriendly so she went back to the sitting room and sat before her TV once more, and there beside the sideboard she saw her cavernous bag with her handbag inside and beside it she remembered there should be her new chrome hand-cuffs and the shiny silver vibrator.
She leaned across and pulled the vibrator from the bag, someone had wiped it but it was loose and the box was missing but, as she found to her surprise it still held the batteries that Shelly had leant her.
It buzzed seductively, so she relaxed and sprawled in her arm chair and slid the tingling silver cylinder deep inside her as she tried to imagine Henry making love to her but instead she kept hearing that mid atlantic accent of “John with an h,” and remembered the way he claimed her and oh god, paid for the privillege, it wasn’t hard to imagine it was his manhood and not a plastic toy buzzing within her, and the feeling of well being spread quickly through her as she eased the toy gently around inside her.
“John with an H,” she heard the name inside her head, she could no more pretend it was Henry than fly to the moon, Henry was an in bed, lights out, curtains drawn sort of lover, but John with a H, well he had already made love, well, perhaps screwed was a more accurate description, but John had sex with her before an audience.
So John brought her to the first orgasm of the evening, unbeknown to him as he was ten miles away watching a repeat of Top Gear on TV at the time, and she gently lazed in a warm glow of contentment.
Shelly, by contrast had watched Jayne walk away, and swiftly calculated she had earned fifty pounds worth of commission in less than an hour, wow! She returned to the Club, where sought out the black leather clad woman, “New member Miss Cathcart,” she said, “Over two hundred quids worth of gear and a three months membership,” She gushed, “We won’t see her again though.”
“Oh you will my dear, the look on that poor tormented soul’s face, oh yes, next time you bring her to me and I’ll show her something she will never forget.” Miss Cathcart suggested. “That new strapon where you pump it up?”
“Yes, the seventy seven ninety nine one,” Shelly said, “And the reservoir fits,”
“Don’t be crude dear,” Miss Cathcart smiled, “On second thoughts, perhaps, perhaps you could do the honours while I check the books?”
Shelly gulped, the honours, she knew exactly what Miss Cathcart expected, “It’s my home time Miss Cathcart.” Shelly reminded her, “I haven’t eaten since lunch.” she blushed, “I mean I haven’t had anything to eat, I mean any food!”
“All right,” Miss Cathcart sighed, “I’m disappointed but if you don’t want to you don’t want to.”
“No, no offence.” Shelly agreed.
“Shelly,” Miss Cathcart asked, “You said you were bi-sexual at the interview, you are, aren’t you?” she gazed into Shelly’s sparkling blue eyes, Shelly shook her head slightly, “No I thought not,” Miss Cathcart ageed, “I know you’re a student, and you need the money, but.”
“Ok, yes, I’ll do it,” Shelly agreed.
“Darling, it’s a privillege not a chore,” Miss Cathcart chuckled, “Actually I think you probably are bi, are a repressed dom, perhaps?” she speculated, “Have you tried wearing a strap on?”
“Miss Cathcart!” Shelly exclaimed as her face reddened with embarrassment.
“It’s a club dear,” Miss Cathcart explained, “Not the foyer at Fortnum and Mason, no one is embarrassed.” she looked at Shelly again, the light was reflecting off her long blonde hair, constricted by a single black elasticated band into a flowing mane while her cheeks glowed with youthful vitality, her lips cherry red made for kissing and sucking and teasing, “But you’re very young, and you did very well with that last sale,” She added, “Very well, well done.”
Miss Cathcart was right, about Jayne at least, “Ah excuse me,” Jayne asked the following Thursday, as she stood before the glass counter and tried to attract the attention of the assistants giggling in the store room, “Can I have a refund, I haven’t used them?” and she held out the chromium play hand cuffs.
“No sorry Madam,” Shelly said, “Oh, Jayne, with a Y?” she said, “Oh sorry we don’t”
“Of course Shelly Jayne is a member,” Miss Cathcart reminded her, “It will have to be a credit note I’m afraid.” she smiled at Jayne, “Is there anything you would like, ah, in it’s place?”
“Oh, well, ah.” Jayne replied awkwardly.
“We do have a certain number of ah, items, for demonstration purposes Miss?” Miss Cathcart explained.
“It’s Jayne with a Y,” Jayne explained.
“I’m Amelia,” Miss Cathcart replied, “My friends call me Madam,” and she smiled at Shelly who blushed.
“How about the seventy seven ninety nine one we were looking at?” Shelly asked innocently.
Jayne looked up, “Oh I wasn’t thinking of anything that expensive!”
“It’s really good Jayne,” Shelly added, “You don’t have to buy if you don’t like it.”
“Oh, all right,” Jayne agreed, “I suppose,” but already there was a first tingle of anticipation, the one that started as she entered the shop from the road, through the outer and inner entrance doors with their painted over windows which stopped anyone from the street looking inside, that first tingle was now a warm feeling, warm and wet.
Jayne’s stylish blue dress swished around her knees, as she swept around the counter, a stylish but modest knee length dress worn with a darker blue jacket, instead of skirt and cardigan, but still knee length, and modest, although as Shelly noted, at least she showed some cleavage now.
“Mind the shop please Shelly,” Miss Cathcart requested and she led Jayne through to the back room. “Actually Shelly didn’t fill the membership forms in properly,” she said, “Will you come up to the office please, its just through here.”
“Oh no, no way,” Jayne protested but Miss Cathcart had opened the door to the ‘Club,’ and then immediately opened another door to the right leading to a set of stairs leading upwards.
“It’s up here,” Miss Cathcart explained, “It’s Victorian I think, a bit of a warren I’m afraid but there’s no need to go through the Club,”
“Oh, I see,” Jayne exclaimed, “Right,” and she followed as Miss Cathcart led her up the slightly uneven thinly carpeted steps, and along a short corridor past a store room and on to a spacious office with two desks a wide variety of filing cabinets and a window looking out over the street.
“My world!” Miss Cathcart explained, “Now where are your forms, oh yes,” she pulled a drawer out, “Here we are, just a signature, here and your post code.” she said, “Oh and initial the other pages would you?”
Jayne took the pen and scribbled her signature across the final page, “Is that it?” she asked.
“Yes, I suppose,” Miss Cathcart said disappointedly as she put the completed forms away again, “You left rather abruptly the other evening?” she queried, “Was there a problem?”
“Oh, ah, well,” Jayne explained, “I sort of got swept along, do you see, I only came for a set of play cuffs.”
“Oh, John didn’t ah.” Miss Cathcart asked, Jayne wondered how she knew as she failed to realise Miss Cathcart in her pale blue smock and blue denim jeans was actually the leather clad dom she had glimpsed briefly in the Club, Jayne struggled to find the right explanation.
“Oh no, but, you see, we never use condoms at home,” Jayne explained, “Henry and I,”
“And do you, ah, like girls?” Miss Cathcart asked.
“Oh yes, oh,” Jayne blustered, “Oh like, like, as in sleep with?”
“No not sleep,” Miss Cathcart suggested, “Not sleep, only, well, did Shelly really explain everything?” she asked anxiously, “We do rather assume when girls join the cub that they will like other girls as well as men?”
“I don’t know,” Jayne replied, “Seriously I don’t, I’ve never, that’s not to say I haven’t wondered, but.” Jayne muttered almost incoherently.
“Now you have a safe word don’t you?” Miss Cathcart asked,and when Jayne immediately nodded she continued, “Then perhaps, we should explore, ah, that side of your, your psyche, is that the word?”
“I don’t know,” Jayne demurred, her heart was thumping now and there was a tinging and she felt warm and damp and she didn’t know quite what to do.
“Just call me ‘Madam,’ or ‘Mistress’ if you like,” Miss Cathcart suggested, “And if things get, well you know, just use the safe word and it ends, absolutely.”
“Madam,” Jayne asked, “What do you suggest?”
“Good,” Miss Cathcart agreed, “Shall we go back down to the shop and choose something suitable?”
“I already have a black latex,” Jayne told her.
“Oh no, that’s for whores, no, something cross-over, elegant, chic, I think we have just the thing,” Miss Cathcart suggested, “In the store room,” she opened the office door an walked the few steps to the store room with its glass panel in the door and unlocked it and ushered Jayne in before locking it again and pulling down the blind.
Jayne looked at the jumble of boxes and clothes racks loaded with a bewildering array of garments, more jumble sale than haute couture she thought.
Miss Cathcart seemed to know precisely where to look “This is it,” she said suddenly and she reached down a black dress and a white, possibly ermine, shawl from a clothes rack, “Now,” she exclaimed, as she spread the long gown out, “What do you think of that.”
“It’s, ah beautiful,” Jayne exclaimed, “What, ah, how much?”
“I bought it from a charity shop,” Miss Cathcart explained, “Ten pounds,!” she exclaimed with a delighted grin, “Bare shoulders do you see, with the wrap as well, it’s ideal, that is if you come through the main entrance, but you do need a suitable bra, ah, that is if you insist on a bra, strapless, of course.”
“Oh!” Jayne agreed, “Yes!”
“Put it on then, Jayne,” Miss Cathcart encouraged her, “There’s a hanger over there, the door’s locked,” she said and she started to look in a large cardboard box.
Jayne hung her smart jacket on a chair back and then hung her dress on the hanger and slipped her jacket on top of it, she turned round to see Miss Cathcart holding a brown leather dog collar, and some velcro handcuffs.
“Lets slip this on shall we,” Miss Cathcart suggested.
“I thought?” Jayne replied.
“Hush, stop thinking, just enjoy,” Miss Cathcart whispered and she placed the collar around Jaynes neck and tightened the buckle. “You really should stop wearing those tights,” Miss Cathcart suggested as she added a leash to the collar, “Stockings or open crotch tights but those, yuck.” she said as she released Jayne’s bra strap, and let it fall.
Jayne instinctively raised her arm to stop the bra falling but Miss Cathcart whispered, “Let it fall,” before she pulled Jaynes Panties and tights to her ankles. “I have some shoes for you Jayne, look!” Miss Cathcart ordered.
“Madam!” Jayne gasped as miss Cathcart showed her a pair of elegant black shoes with five inch stiletto heels, “I can’t walk in those.” she protested.
“No my darling they are not for walking,” Miss Cathcart agreed, they’re for playing, “Try them!”
Jane pulled her own own heeled sensible shoes off and peeled off her tights and panties before taking a new shoe and trying it on, “Seriously I cant walk in these,” she protested as Miss Cathcart helped her to pull the strap tight through the unusual ratcheting buckle.
“It doesn’t matter really,” Miss Cathcart insisted, and she reached in the box again and produced some rather tired looking bunny ears, “How about some bunny ears, like these?” she asked.
“Oh my god I’ll look like something out of an old playboy!” Jayne giggled.
“It’s just you and me Jayne,” Miss Cathcart reminded her and then with a swish Miss Cathcart pulled off her smock to reveal a black corset with pink ribbons and a black peep hole bra through which her nipples protruded, and equally suddenly she kicked off her heels and pulled down her blue denim jeans and black thong and tossed them asied before sitting down on a packing case.
“I need your tongue Jayne, please.” Miss Cathart almost pleaded, “I’m sorry but.”
Jayne stared, there was no threat, no coercion, just a fellow human being who needed a small kindness Jayne rationalised, just a friend, it wasn’t really any different to giving someone a lift in one’s car or putting a sticking plaster.
“I’ve never done this before, Amelia,” Jayne said choosing her words carefully, “You will say if it hurts wont you?” and with a pounding heart she crawled up to Miss Cathcart and began to lick her sex.