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But my mind keeps drifting to the way Wint’s hand felt on the back of my neck, the way his voice made me feel safe and secure. I wonder what it would be like to explore with him, to let him guide me through the world of BDSM.
Deciding that I need to do this from the safety of my room, I grab the file and race back upstairs, locking the door behind me and sinking down onto the bed. I stare at the closed file like it might bite me, and decide I’ll deal with it later. First, I’m going to enjoy the massive claw-foot tub in my en suite bathroom.
I run a hot bath and pour in some lavender-scented bubbles. As I sink into the water, my thoughts drift back to Wint. I can’t shake the feeling that I would enjoy exploring kink with him, but I’m not sure how to broach the subject. I’ve never been in this kind of relationship before, and I’m not sure how to navigate it.
But as I soak in the tub, I realise that I won’t know until I try. I can’t deny the pull I feel towards the club and the world it represents. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always been curious about some aspects of BDSM, even if I’ve never actedon it before. Obviously, Frost was right; I’m completely green though.
With a newfound determination, I step out of the tub and wrap myself in a plush towel.
Lying on the enormous guest bed, I idly flip through the paperwork, deciding to start by looking at the guys’ questionnaires instead of thinking about how I’ll complete my own.
There’s so many terms on there I don’t understand, I find myself googling almost every other item on their lists, and my body heats with every answer my phone returns to me. I’m sure my eyes must be like saucers.
My fingers start to move faster over the touch screen as I search for more information, my body yearning for something I’ve never experienced before. It’s like a fire has been ignited inside of me, and I can’t ignore the urge to explore.
With each search my curiosity grows, my interest in the world of BDSM slowly but surely taking hold. I start to imagine myself in the scenarios described in the questionnaire, wondering how it would feel to be restrained, to be at the mercy of someone else’s desires.
The thought of someone like Wint or Don guiding me through these experiences sends shivers down my spine. I imagine their strong hands holding me down, deep voices whispering in my ear as they take me to new heights of pleasure…together.
Fuck.
My thoughts should not be going there.
I need a drink to get through this.
Abandoning the docket once more, I creep downstairs in search of some liquid courage.
“Hello?” I call out at the top of the stairs, wanting to make sure I’m alone. It’s not like I’m sneaking around or stealingfrom them, they said to make myself comfortable, but comfort in luxury, expensive surrounds doesn’t come easily to me.
Luckily, the booze is easy to find. There’s a bar set into the wall near the piano in the main living room, stocked with top-shelf liquor and mixers. I pour myself a generous glass of scotch and settle onto one of the plush sofas, feeling a little more relaxed.
But my mind keeps wandering back to the contract and the men who expect me to fill it out. I take another sip of scotch, trying to calm my nerves. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to explore my sexuality within the expertise of the club. Maybe I’d even enjoy it, if I could just get over my nerves.
I scoff at myself. I can’t even bring myself to answer some questions on a few pieces of paper. There’s no way I’ve got the balls to actuallydothe things listed on there.
There’s no denying that the tour North took me on made me curious though. And aroused.
I take another deep sip of scotch, feeling my inhibitions start to slip away. Maybe I should just take a chance and see where this could go. I finish my drink, pour another, and then decide I’m going to need the bottle, so I head back upstairs with both in hand, ready to tackle the contract.
Picking it up again, I glance over it, determined to fill it out with honesty. What did Wint say? It was my opportunity to set limits and explore what I’m into?
I take a deep breath, neck the scotch, and begin.
The beginning is actually simple enough. It outlines fundamental terms, explains that the contract isn’t legal, more of an agreement both parties agree to uphold, and states the expectations of all parties involved. It also covers the club’s rules and expectations, as well as health and safety stuff.
It’s pretty straightforward and not full of jargon that makes my head spin, so I’m grateful for that. It’s just the actual subject matter that makes me baulk.
I pour another scotch, vowing this will be my last. I have work later and if there’s a two drink rule at the club for members, there’s definitely a ’don’t show up inebriated’ rule for staff that goes too.
As I work through the section on safewords, I read about the importance of having them, how they’re used for everyone’s safety, and how the club uses a simple colour-coded traffic light system that’s universally recognised and adhered to by all. There’s still a section for me to write my own safeword though, and I give it some thought for a moment before deciding on ’socks’. Fuck Don thinking he was funny the other night. Socks it is.
As I glance down at the list, I begin to feel a bit overwhelmed. Every single sexual act I could possibly think of is listed, along with about a thousand others I’ve never even heard of, next to a 1 to 5 scale. Five apparently stands for love it or keen to try, with 1 being a strong dislike or hard limit. I google ’hard limit’. It just means no fucking way.
I’ve always considered myself to be open-minded and adventurous, but looking at this comprehensive catalog of sexual acts, I’m intimidated. I think I’m going to be marking a lot of things 1 or 2.
However, I take another sip of my scotch and remind myself that I’m a beginner, everyone has to start somewhere like me.
I pick up my pen and start to make notes on the more vanilla activities I’m familiar with, feeling a bit like a prude compared to the extensive list in front of me.
