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She sucks in a breath. “All right.”
“You’ll be tempted to look away,” I say. “That’s normal. These acts are private. But if you want to look, look.”
She nods. “Do you like to look?” she asks shyly.
“I’m not a voyeur,” I say, “but I enjoy the art of bondage. I come into this room to see the art more than the intimate acts.”
“I see.”
“Ready?” I clasp the doorknob.
“Ready.”
I open the door. An attendant sits right inside.
“Mr. Black,” he says simply.
“Good evening,” I say. “My guest and I are here to observe this evening.”
“Very good.”
I take her hand, and we step into the room.
The room is huge, the lighting is brighter, and the walls are white and bare.
The reasoning is simple. This is an exhibition room. People come here to see and to be seen, so lighting needs to be good. Plus, no grand decor or art is necessary.
The room is full of human works of art.
While the rope used in the photos Skye saw in my library was all natural colored, the bindings in this room range from black to red to purple to green. Some multicolored.
I lead her around the room to observe. We stop first to watch a man whose arms and feet are bound with intricately knotted dark blue rope.
“This is an example of shibari,” I say.
Skye lifts her brows.
“It’s a Japanese bondage form that uses simple but intricate patterns. Go ahead. Take a good look.”
A woman wearing a corset similar to Skye’s but no thong whips the man lightly with a flogger.
“Is this the kind of bondage you want to do to me?” she asks.
“No. What I do uses quite a bit more rope.”
She nods.
“I’ll go easy on you tonight,” I say. “Baby steps.”
Though part of me wants to bind Skye intricately, splay her out for my pleasure.
But that will wait.
We walk to the next scene. A woman is bound in natural-colored rope, the knots intricately wound all the way from her ankles to her thighs. Her wrists are bound together and hooked to a flogging bench. Her partner, another woman, is fucking her from behind using a strap-on. As the submissive’s legs aren’t spread, her pussy is clearly tight, and the dildo the other woman wears is not small.
“That’s right, you slut. I’m fucking you good, aren’t I?”
The woman doesn’t respond.
She’s probably been told not to.
While some get off on such dirty language during a scene, I do not. I’ll never call Skye a slut or anything else derogatory. Not my style. But from the looks of the others who are watching the scene, I know it’s a fetish for many.
On to the next scene.
A curvy woman is bound with black rope and lying on her back on a leather table. A ball gag is in her mouth. Her wrists and ankles are bound together, and a well-endowed dark-haired man is fucking her boldly.
This room seems to go on forever.
Scene after scene after scene.
Two men fucking one bound woman—one in her pussy and one in her ass.
Two women fucking one bound man. One with a dildo in his ass, the other with a dildo in his mouth.
One man bound with black rope being whipped with a flogger by a fully clothed woman.
Scene after scene after scene…
Until we reach the last one.
And Skye freezes as if she’s spellbound.
Chapter Thirty-Six
A beautiful dark-haired woman sits on her knees in front of a well-toned blond man. She’s bound with dark red rope that begins around her neck. From there, it loops over her shoulders and over her breasts, her nipples protruding through two tight knots.
The rope curves over her abdomen and around her hips, and then it coils over her thighs and calves, forcing her into the kneeling position.
The man pulls on the rope around her neck, and she gasps softly.
The scene could be a trigger for me, though I’m not ever triggered. Still, parts of it are arousing. The rope work, first, is intricate and artistic, especially how her nipples are hard and taut while the rest of her breasts are bound by the red rope.
My cock tightens, but not at the scene itself.
It tightens as I watch Skye.
The man strips off his black pants, releasing a giant cock. He pulls the woman toward him and shoves it into her mouth.
“Skye.” I breathe against her neck.
“Hmm?”
“Do you like what you see here?”
“Yes,” she says, her breath catching.
“There’s a lot more to see in this club, but for now, we’re going to my private suite.”
And damn, we can’t get there soon enough.
“Does anyone…watch us there?”
“Do you want anyone to watch us?”
“I don’t know.”
“No one will watch us. I’m not an exhibitionist.” I take her hand and lead her out of the room and back into the hallway.
“What are all these other doors?” she asks.
“They’re for another time.” I cup her cheek. “I want you, Skye.”
