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He looked amazing.
The drive to the mansion where the fetish party was being held took almost half an hour. On the car stereo, Led Zeppelin, Sunshine of Your Love, played in the background while Drake described what would happen when we arrived at the home of a wealthy investment banker who hosted the once-monthly exclusive and very private dungeon party and fetish night.
"Will we wear masks?" I asked, a bit nervous. "Master?" I added, catching myself.
"No need for this party," he said. "These people will be more afraid of you knowing them than you should be of them knowing you. These are some of the wealthiest and most powerful players. I'm already a member of the host's inner circle, but you'll have to sign a disclaimer, agreeing to keep private anything you see at the party, not revealing any names to anyone, and if you see anyone on the street, you'll ignore them unless you're in a social situation and it demands that you acknowledge them. This is to protect the people who attend, many of whom are very powerful people and could be harmed if word got out about their involvement in BDSM."
"What if someone knows me?" I said, still nervous.
He reached out and touched my lips with his finger.
"Master," I said quickly. "Who is the owner? Would I know his name?"
He shook his head. "No. Just a very powerful banker with lots of money he made himself. He doesn’t run in your father's old money circles. You might see his name on the Forbes 500 list, but not in the news. These people are very private."
"How did you meet him, Master?"
"Someone who knew him and knew me introduced us and I got an invite. After he watched me for a while, I was offered membership. Lara is a member as well. She may even be there tonight."
"Master, Lara will be mad that we're together."
He nodded. "I've smoothed things over with Lara."
"Are these all the kinky types from the one percent?"
He laughed at that but then he reached over and touched my lips with a finger. "Remember your manners, Katherine. You're being a bit lax because of excitement but I can't be lenient tonight as I usually am. If you disobey me in front of my very powerful and wealthy friends, I'll have to punish you."
"I'm sorry, Master. I'll do better."
"They're not all from the one percent. Some are there simply because they're good at what they do, kink-wise. Like Lara. She has several very powerful submissives, which is why she's invited. Men who run this country, but who like to be dominated in the bedroom."
We drove through a heavily wooded area in Yonkers to a mansion set high on a hill, surrounded by a security fence with remote control cameras spaced along the perimeter. A guard at the gate accepted Drake's ID and checked his name on a list and then waved us through.
My heart rate increased as we drove to the front entrance. A valet opened my door and helped me out. Then Drake came to my side and took my arm. He handed the valet his keys and we walked in the front door, into a luxurious foyer done all in rich marble and mirrors, a huge crystal chandelier in the center of the room suspended from a vaulted ceiling. D
rake pulled an invitation out of a pocket in his overcoat and handed it to a shaved-headed security guard dressed in a business suit, a wireless earphone in his ear. The guard examined it and then checked me out, eyeing me up and down.
"She's new, Sir?"
Drake nodded.
"Sir, she'll have to sign," the guard said. He pointed inside the entry to a table set up with an older brunette dressed in a black corset and mini skirt, thigh-high stiletto boots. She wore no collar. We went to the table and the woman smiled at us.
"Master D," she said, making eye contact with him. I took it from how she greeted him as an equal that she was a Domme.
"Mistress Innes," he replied. "Good to see you again."
"You know the procedures. Your submissive will have to sign." She handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. "You can read it over there and sign. I'll get one of the Attendants to witness."
Drake led me to an ornate side table with a chair that had a tapestry seat. I sat and read over the document, which was as Drake had described it. "Master," I whispered. "Is this legally binding?"
He nodded. "This is. It's a non-disclosure agreement. The Attendant is a notary public and can legally witness. You break the agreement's terms, you can be sued."
I signed and dated the document.
The Attendant was collared and dressed in leathers, his torso bare except for straps that crossed his chest. He wore a black leather hat and huge leather boots. Tattoos marked his chest and arms.
After he introduced himself, he turned to me. "You understand that you are now legally obliged to keep secret what you see here and the names and identities of those who you meet?"
