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“I’m just looking around, it’s my first time here,” Leslie replied.
The woman looked down Leslie’s vest, apparently admiring the softly jiggling flesh inside.
“You sub or Dom?”
“I’d likely switch.” Leslie tossed off the comment without much thought. It sounded good. The woman looked at her with an air of approval.
“I switch myself. I like to top most of the time, but I do like my ass beat on occasion. Not more than once a month, mind you.” The woman’s thick lips were gilded with the most amazing lipstick; the red and gold hues seemed to glisten as she moved her mouth. Leslie wanted to kiss that mouth, feeling that soft bounty of fleshy lips surround her own much smaller ones.
“Leta,” the woman announced her name as she sat down on the bar stool beside her.
“Leslie.” She felt a little more comfortable with someone sitting next to her, a little safer, maybe. Safety in numbers. This woman was not nearly as forbidding as some in the crowd, and Leslie especially liked her eyes. They were made up beautifully, with dark eye-shadows in rich color. Extreme, perhaps, but exotic like the woman herself. And yet, nothing about her fetish attire took away from the gentleness that seemed natural to the alluring female.
“May I?” Leta asked, while deliberately gazing into Leslie’s gaping vest.
“Yes, sure, why not?” Leslie answered, a little nervously. She hadn’t expected to experience this level of arousal—after all, she was working. Working or not, she imagined herself slipping off to a private room with Leta to spend the evening. A little ironic, perhaps, especially after she’d joked with Robin that she was going to the club so that Robin wouldn’t be distracted from the job.
With the lovely Leta taking such an interest in her, Leslie could hardly rebuff the advance. The woman reached inside Leslie’s vest, found her nipple, and pushed the vest aside. She squeezed it harshly as she pulled it out, making Leslie jerk. Although she winced with pain, the sensation wasn’t without its pleasure. She felt the effect all the way to her pussy—which was growing more moist with every second. Just one tiny nipple pinch and Leslie realized how horny she really was.
“Oh, my!” she softly gasped.
“Such a pretty pink,” Leta said. “I’d love to clamp them both. Hum?” She looked into Leslie’s eyes. “Later, maybe? After you get accustomed to things, we could find a room and I’d give you a wonderful introduction to B&D.”
Leslie smiled, thinking that she would be a perfect partner for a first time. “Well, I don’t know, maybe. We’ll see what happens.”
“Yes, we will,” the woman assured her. Then Leta slid off her stool, pressed her lips against Leslie’s neck. Backing off, she smiled and walked away. Her graceful gait was slow and easy—easy to be seduced by a subtle siren like Leta. Only after the woman was out of her sight, did Leslie remember with some regret that she didn’t even think of asking Leta about her suspect.
About an hour after Leslie arrived, she saw Jane Hugh walk through the door—looking almost the same as she had on the afternoon when she and Robin interviewed her. Only her clothes were different. She wore pants, cowboy boots and a leather shirt that laced up the front. Her breasts pressed against the fabric, making them look larger than Leslie remembered them. The grim expression on her lips was a bit unnerving, although a soft but rather nondescript submissive landed on her arm almost instantly, and whispered something in her ear.
Jane put her hand on the woman’s cheek and held it in her palm, gently, but with an unmistakable authority that could have easily slapped the woman in the face. Jane’s submissive kissed her adoringly, and called her “sir”, which seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to call this dominant femme.
Leslie turned on her stool just enough so that Jane wouldn’t see her. This wasn’t exactly a stake-out; it was much more a subjective fact finding mission. And though she didn’t intend to remain incognito all night, she hoped she could remain unrecognized for a while longer.
After Jane’s quick greeting was over, she made her way past the bar, not seeing Leslie, and disappeared into the back of the club.
“You like her?” a
voice asked.
Leslie turned around a little startled to find that her watchfulness had been observed.
“Yes, I suppose. She fascinates me,” Leslie said truthfully.
“You haven’t been here before, have you?”
Leslie gazed at the woman in the black t-shirt and skirt. Fairly unremarkable, was her first impression, although the woman’s head was shaved bald and she had a half dozen earrings pierced into each ear. In her left ear, the earring at the bottom hung almost to her shoulder.
“No. It’s my first time.”
“Sometimes she runs things here, Jane does,” the woman went on informatively. She’s like an electrical current. You really should see what she’s going to do with Dagne tonight.”
“Who’s Dagne? The blonde that was kissing her?”
“Oh no! Dag’s a real bitch, and Jane’s gonna beat her ass tonight. Getting uppity.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, Dagne usually tops, but every once in a while, we all think she needs to be taken down a peg.”
