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11
David
Classified was already crowded when we arrived. That wasn’t uncommon for a Friday night at clubs like this. What was uncommon was me showing up with a date instead of claiming one after I arrived. This was going to be an interesting change to a normal experience. Zoey and I each checked in with the front desk. We didn’t need membership cards to access the club. Everything was done by fingerprints. This meant that you didn’t have to carry a wallet into the club if you didn’t want to. Phones and bags weren’t allowed.
The thing I liked most about Classified compared to other clubs I’d played at was that there was a zero-tolerance policy. If someone broke a rule, such as bringing in a phone, they were out. Done. There were no second chances. There was no, “I forgot.” It was just over. If you wanted to play, you played by the rules.
End of story.
We left all of our stuff inside of the car except for my key fob. That fit perfectly in my pocket. Once we were inside of the club, I was glad I had my hands free. I was also glad that Zoey and I had dressed nicely enough to go to the club directly after the rehearsal dinner. That dinner had been the most boring experience of my life. I was more than a little happy Zoey wanted to keep partying once our responsibilities as best man and maid of honor had been completed.
“Excuse me for a minute,” she said, squeezing my hand. She slipped to the girl’s locker room to ditch her shoes. The rule at Classified was that you couldn’t wear street shoes. It was dress shoes, stilettos, or nothing, and although Zoey’s Converse looked cute with her outfit, they weren’t really appropriate for the club. I waited for her nearby, watching the scenes unfolding near me.
A couple of women were on a stage nearby. One of them was spanking the other, which was always fun to see. They were doing a full-on teacher-student role play. The student had been naughty, apparently. There was something for everyone at Classified, and judging by the crowd that had gathered around the stage, people were solidly enjoying what they were seeing.
There were a couple of other scenes unfolding nearby, as well. I spotted a couple flogging a shared submissive. One Domme had her submissive tied up, and was tickling him with a feather. There was even a scene where someone was being tied up slowly, carefully, with intricate ropework that would probably take hours to finish.
“What did I miss?” Zoey asked when she returned. I looked over to see her looking cute as hell in that damn corset top and skirt. Then I realized that she hadn’t just ditched her shoes.
“Did you take off your bra?” I asked, curious. Many corset tops were just that: corsets. Hers was more of a shirt with tight laces on the front and back. While many girls wouldn’t have opted for a bra with it, I’d spotted her bra strap earlier. Now it was mysteriously gone.
“What?” Zoey blushed, but looked away. “Why would you ask me that?”
I reached for her chin and turned it toward me. I’d developed a bad habit of doing that with her, but we both enjoyed it. Zoey was a good person. She was fun and cute and sexy and playful. I liked teasing her just as mu
ch as she liked teasing me.
“Oh, princess,” I growled. “We both know I’m the top tonight.”
“I didn’t agree to that,” she said, but her voice had changed. She was aroused. She was excited. She liked having me take control like this, and to be honest, I liked it, too. I’d always been dominant in my relationships, but being with Zoey, who was so feisty and untamable, was its own magic.
“Darling, you agreed to it the moment you climbed into my car,” I told her.
“I’m not wearing a bra,” she whispered.
“Anything else I should know?”
“I took off my panties, too.”
“Why did you take off your panties, sweet Zoey?”
“Because,” she said.
“Because?”
She took a deep breath. Communication. There it was. I could see the understanding pulsing inside of her. She knew that we needed to talk to each other this time around. Zoey and I played before. We’d even played in public, I thought with a smile. Her brother’s birthday party had been wonderful and intense and wild, and the memory of her coming apart in the hallway wasn’t something I would ever forget.
“Because I had fun playing with you the last time that I saw you,” she told me. Zoey crossed her arms over her chest. I was still holding her chin, but I released her, giving her space to think and to feel. I wanted her, but I also knew she had to ready for this.
“I had fun with you, too.”
“When you got me off in the hallway,” she whispered...
“That was incredible.” She had looked lovely. She had been perfect. It had been dirty and risky and fun. Sometimes it was nice to just let go in a safe way, and that’s what we’d done. Then again, that was the entire point of visiting Classified, wasn’t it? People here could unwind and play in safe ways. They could express themselves sexually without the fear of retribution. Every member had signed about 30 nondisclosure agreements, which meant that if you saw someone you knew at the club, or someone you recognized as a public figure, you didn’t talk about it.
You would never talk about it.
“It was fun,” Zoey finally said.
