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She nods, swallowing nervously as she tightens her grip. We descend the stairs slowly, the music shifting from jazz to a heavy thump of bass. The dim lights fade to red as we reach the bottom of the stairs. I look back at her once more as we exit the stairway and a long row of glass rooms appears in front of us.
I pull Emery in front of me, placing my hands on her waist as her eyes take in the scene in front of her. There are others down here with us, all wearing masks, but their attention is fully focused on whatever glass box they’re in front of.
“Is this what you wanted to see, Emery?” I run my nose up her neck, my fingers gripping her waist tighter as I hear her gasp and her mouth falls open. “Is this what you thought Dane was doing when he wasn’t home?”
11
EMERY
The beat of the music reverberates in my chest as I take another step farther into the room, the red lights casting a sensual glow through the long hallway.
I blink rapidly, my eyes adjusting to the light and sights before me. I take a few steps down the hallway, Mads’ hands resting on my waist. The warmth of his breath comes out in short puffs against my cheek as he says something to me.
“I-I—” I don’t know what I was going to say but my brain can’t form words at the moment. My eyes finally adjust to the lights and movement as we approach the first room. My mouth falls open when I realize what the other people around us are watching.
A fully nude man leans back in a large throne-like chair, his black mask concealing his identity as a woman in a matching mask kneels in front of him. Her heels poke out from behind her, her head bobbing up and down as she swallows his cock. Her hands are cuffed behind her back, a leather collar around her throat. She’s wearing a matching lingerie set made up of leather straps alone. Her breasts are bare as well as the rest of her most intimate parts.
“Do you like what you see?” Mads leans in closer, his deep voice murmuring in my ear as he tightens his grip on my waist.
The man grabs the woman’s head, guiding her deeper down his shaft as his head falls back. I can’t hear anything coming from the room but from the way his mouth is open, he’s saying something.
“What is this?”
“This is The Scarlett Letter. A private and consensual experience for members.”
I glance to my right, another couple near us. The man is kissing the woman’s neck as she reaches behind her to stroke him through his pants.
“Shall we continue?” Mads guides me around the couple to another window. This time the couple is two women. One is on her back, toying with her breast as the other buries her face between the other woman’s thighs. They look completely lost in what they’re doing, consumed by each other as if they have no idea that people are watching them.
“Can they see us?” I turn to look at Mads.
“No. It’s a two-way mirror. We can see them, but they can’t see us.”
“Why not?”
“Makes it more authentic. It allows the participants to fully focus on their partner, on enjoying themselves and not feeling like they have to put on a show. For the most part, people completely forget that they’re being watched, making it that much more exciting for the viewer.”
I reach my hand out and slowly press it against the glass. The woman on her back sits up, reaching for a toy before turning back to the other woman who is now lying down. She teases her, kissing her breast as she drags a vibrator through her folds.
“What are the rules?” I ask as we step toward another window.
“Both couples have to be willing participants. If pain is involved or torture, it has to be mutually agreed upon beforehand.”
“Torture?” The word barely squeaks out of my throat. A low, throaty chuckle echoes through Mads’ chest, reverberating down my spine that’s pressed against him.
“Mmm, yes.” His mouth is at my ear. “I thought you enjoyed a little pain mixed with your pleasure.” His hand moves from my waist to my lower belly where it rests gently. The tone of his voice and his words cause my stomach to flip. I can feel heat building already. “Sometimes there are dominants or sadists that participate down here; they actually tend to draw the largest crowds.”
The window we stop in front of this time is a shirtless man. He’s tall and built with short, curly black hair. He’s still wearing his suit pants. His feet are bare as he brings a whip-type object up above his head and brings it down against a woman’s bare ass. I can’t hear her, but I see her head jerk back as her mouth falls open.
“Like this?”
“Yes, like this.”
Mads’ hand snakes its way around my waist fully as he presses me against him. His other hand slowly glides up my bare arm, causing a shiver to run through my body.
The woman’s mask isn’t like mine; it’s a complete blindfold. Her hands and feet are cuffed, a bar running between the cuffs on her feet and she’s strapped down to a leather-covered bench.
“What’s he doing to her?”
