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His eyes shine and his nostrils flare.
What’s that about?
“Our members are not kids. They pay a hefty monthly fee which helps maintain the Club, pays the salaries of all our employees, and helps cater for the more… let’s call them, unusual requests.”
Unusual? I have so many questions…
“But that’s not all. The remaining membership fee proceedings go to a charity of the members’ choosing. They have a yearly list of twelve to choose from and the most voted for each month is the recipient until every charity on the list has been contemplated. Each year the list varies.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Yes. It’s not just about helping ourselves, it's also about making lives easier for those who are less fortunate.”
“So, Lyons Pride is…”
“Just another part of the Lyons Club. The only part that is open to the public, though as you might already know, it is a high-end club, so even there we maintain the exclusive clientele vibe.”
“How does that work? How do you stop people from entering the club proper? Or are there separate entrances?” I mean, all we did was get inside a door. And it wasn’t even locked or anything.
“Our members can roam freely between the Lyons Pride and the members’ club through the Pride’s VIP area, which only the club members can access. There’s also aseparate entryway for when they just want to access the club and not the nightclub.”
This is mind-boggling. Who knew when I applied that a whole other world would be here?
Edwin takes long steps down the side of the massive room, pointing at each door as we pass. “This is for the pool, sauna, and workout areas, this is for the business center where they can do any sort of printing, copying, faxing–” Edwin measures me up and down with his eyes. “I hope you know how to deal with a paper jam.”
“Absolutely,” I say, voice cracking.
He continues, circling the room. There are the private offices, the hospitality wing where people can nap, or stay, or, um…handlepersonalaffairs, then the media center including a library with an extensive classics collection and a private movie theatre for screenings.
Edwin stops at the final door. “And this…This is The Underground.” He looks at me again, mouth parted, his lower lip moist, even more cherry and delicious than usual. “Well, I think I should let it speak for itself.”
I look at the door, and my mind flies to a world of possibilities. A VR room where presidents meet to win or lose wars, a teleport room that some rich guy created that can bring people in from all over the world, an indoor heliport that opens James Bond style, a series of hidden tunnels that lets these people go all over town in secret.
It is just a door, nothing special or different about it, but it can be hiding anything.
And with how he is acting, I’m dying to know what.
He opens the door for me, and I step through, feeling like Alice moving through the looking glass, afraid and yet tantalized to know what exists on the other side.
My jaw drops. I wasn’t even close.
I couldn’t have guessed what secrets lay beyond this door in my wildest dreams.
Well. Maybe my wildest.
I have stepped inside what can only be described as BDSM heaven. A wonderland.
In the center of the room is a platform with several poles. The ceiling is made up of bars and from some of the bars hang chains and cuffs. Leather couches line the central platform as do several other doors that I’m sure are smaller versions of what I see here. More private enclosures for whatever devious delights members of the Lyons Club might like to get up to.
Edwin walks past me into the room. “It’s very tame right now. We don’t have too many members indulging here in the morning.”
As I look around, he steps up onto the stage and holds his hands out, spinning around.
“Welcome to The Underground.”
A dungeon. A frickin’ BDSM dungeon! “The Underground…that’s a good name for it.” Itisa good name. And…it conjures up all sorts of deep, dark desires.
“So, how does it work?”
