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I'll soon find out.
Chapter Five
Lucas is holding my hand.
Naomi clung to the thought as the chauffeured car sped toward their destination on the south side of London. His touch would get her through the nervousness she carried. Lucas was taking her to a fetish club event.
Surprisingly, she'd fast grown accustomed to her outfit, outrageous as it was. Entirely black PVC, skin tight and highly sexualized, it made her feel supremely feminine and desirable. Both the fitted bodice and the tight skirt were zipped up the back, and when she moved she could feel the zip-pull dangling enticingly against the back of her thighs – like an invitation to unzip and open her up.
Lucas had chosen the PVC ensemble and dressed her, cherishing her through each important step. At first she thought the outfit would be restrictive, but the synthetic fabric had quickly warmed against her skin and grown supple, becoming a second skin that revealed her every curve.
"I want you to promise if you feel at all uncomfortable, just say. We'll leave."
"I promise."
He squeezed her hand. "It's time to agree a safeword."
"I suppose it is." She pressed back into her seat, trying to keep her breathing even, one hand stroking the D-ring collar at her neck. "What do you suggest?"
He smiled. "How about dealbreaker?"
Naomi laughed. "It's perfect."
"Any time you want to stop what we're doing, or to take it elsewhere or leave, mention dealbreaker."
"I will."
She stared at him, admiring his easy ability to take charge, absorbing his powerful masculine presence. It made her feel feminine in way she'd never experienced before. Tonight he was clad in leather, snug leather pants and a jacket that creaked and purred when he moved to pull her closer to his side. Beneath the jacket he wore a tight white T shirt that showed his breathtakingly masculine physique to perfection.
Naomi was constantly aware of the long leather lead he carried with him in his pocket, what it meant and how she would feel wearing it. The way he'd shown it to her – cracking the leather against his hand before he tucked it away – was a statement of intent. It astonished her that she instantly craved to be Lucas's pet. Instinctively she knew it would make her feel special, and safe, whatever the situation. The fact it made her outrageously horny was mystifying, but she embraced it.
He carried another BDSM accouterment that also held her attention even though she couldn’t see it. A slender rubber baton. He'd shown it to her once they were fully dressed. Asking her to hold out her hand, he'd tapped it there lightly to allow her to gauge its power. It was subtle, but she figured it could pack a sting. When she'd nodded her consent, he put it in the inner pocket of his jacket.
The car slowed down and pulled up outside a large, gaunt building with a spotlight over the door. Clusters of fetishist-dressed people moved in pairs and groups to the entrance. She saw leather, PVC, rubber, uniforms of all varieties – and the accessories of a sexual playground – handcuffs on belts, chains, whips and masks.
"The creatures of the night." Lucas grinned.
She'd never seen him smile with such relish. This really was his play space. It made her shiver with anticipation. What if she couldn't hack it? Braving herself, sh
e leaned forward in the seat to take a closer look.
Lucas pressed the window button and lowered it an inch or two, allowing her to hear the chatter and laughter emerging from the gaggle of people moving toward the door.
"Just people on a night out," she murmured.
Lucas nodded. "Wearing their fetish."
She could see tickets were being checked by a woman at the door to the event. Two leather clad bouncers stood a ways off behind her, but it was a glamorous woman at the front. A mistress. She was dramatically tall and wore a glossy red dress patterned with black and orange flames around the hem and over the shoulders. A mask of black shiny fabric was wrapped around her eyes. Jet black hair cascaded over her shoulders to her hips. Her make up was immaculate and she chatted as she directed the club attendees through the doorway. A fragment of the conversation reached Naomi and she realized the woman was commenting on the fetish gear the party goers wore.
Naomi wanted to hear what the woman might say about her outfit.
The entrance itself was an impressive gothic stone arch. Two massive old fashioned metal studded doors stood open within it. It made her curious. She craned her neck, looking above at the stone façade.
"It's a church," she whispered, astonished.
"It is indeed," Lucas replied. "We'll be attending mass."
"Mass?"
