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There are some in fancy, princess type costumes and others in full studs, chains and leather. I stand there wide eyed for a few minutes, just taking it in.
“You approve, I see.” Cody giggles from beside me.
“Yeah.” I nod slowly. “It’s not what I was expecting.”
“Why don’t you head over to the bar? Heather will make you anything you like.”
“Wasn’t she making coffee before?”
“She has many skills.” Cody laughs. “And don’t worry, it’s not like she’s working a triple shift or anything. Rachel’s not that kind of monster.”
“That remains to be seen.” My whisper is lost in the crowd as Cody moves off with a wave. I walk through the club, still just taking in all the costumes and the super sexy artwork on the walls.
The other women smile at me and some even wink. From the long glances I’m getting, I think they like my outfit. I have to cringe a little, because this isn’t a costume.
The skirt used to be ankle length. It got a tear in it while I was on my little bus trip, so I just ripped it off at the mid thigh mark. I’ve been wearing these boots for years… Every scuff and stain is real, not manufactured. The fishnets are just luck of the draw, I have a few sets of tights in my bag because my legs get cold and I like to change up the look.
My jacket is truly mine and it’s the one thing I’ve never let go of. It was my Dads. I remember him, just a bit. He looked after me when Mom died. I don’t let my thoughts stray any further in that direction.
At least my clothes aren’t making a scene all by themselves. I was hoping to get a bit of work so I could buy something less conspicuous to broaden my options. It just hasn’t happened yet.
I sit down at the bar and the girl smiles brightly at me.
“Hey! What can I get you?”
“You do cocktails?” I’m being ridiculous. I can’t afford a cocktail and no matter how poor I am, I always tip big. I know what it’s like to be a waitress.
“Only a few.” She gives me a nervous grin. “I’m not a full bartender.”
“That’s cool. Just give me a sparkling white.”
She nods and hurries to put it together. Just as she brings it to me a woman gets up on the little stage. I think she might be about to rock the room, but she starts talking instead.
Calls of ‘yeah, Lucille’ start ringing around the room. I’m even more confused. If she’s not the entertainment, why are they cheering her?
Maybe its just because she’s wicked hot. She’s wearing a full leather suit that shows her cleavage and deadly boots.
Then she starts talking about how to be a good dom. I take hard gulps of my wine and keep my lips pressed together so I don’t start arguing with her.
I mean, there’s a place for gentle Doms, I guess. I just don’t see how that’s really fun. I need to be taken to the edge, man, not cradled like a lost kitten.
I start to wander around the room, looking at the pictures. I’m starting to get a vibe that I’m being watched, and I don’t consider it to be paranoid. This instinct has gotten me out of trouble plenty of times and I’m not going to doubt it now.
This thing is going down the drain and I’ve got to leap out of the tub before I go down with it.
I start shuffling towards the exit, wondering if I can make it out without a scene. Sometimes that’s unavoidable, but it looks like this time, I might actually pull it off.
As I get nearer to the door, the thought strikes me that I still have nowhere to go. It makes me kind of mad.
Then someone moves in front of me. It’s too sudden and I can’t get out of the way. I almost stumble as the tall woman turns around in front of me.
“Oh, hey.” I look up at her. “You’re the chick who was doing the talk onstage.”
She glares at me. “It’s Lucille. You made me spill my drink.”
“You jumped in front of me, lady.”
“That’s not how I see it.”
