Down the rabbit hole... Experimenter and CuteDragon (MxF BDSM dubcon)

[CuteDragon]

Kimberly glared at the bouncer as he all but dumper her on her arse.

"Misogynistic pig!" she yelled as she leaned against the wall to catch her breath, "How does it feel to contribute to the denigration of women. I bet your mother's real proud of how you've sold out to that temple of the Male ego!"

She was well and truly on hr high horse. She had not been prepared for just how bad the club, 'Inferno' had been. She'd been ready for leather and whips, but there had been so much more. Half naked girls being led around like pets on their hands and knees. One girl had been bound so tightly in elaborate ropes that all she could do was squirm and writhe on the floor as her 'master' leaned his boots on her bum.

Sure some guys had been on the receiving end too, but not many. And the so called domes, were dressed so provocatively they were little better than the slaves. The whole setup seemed designed to fuel men's fantasies. It was disgusting!

She cast a last angry look back at the bouncer before the door closed, leaving her on the street. She leaned on the wall as she managed to get her heels back on properly. That gorilla had almost had her shoes off as he half walked her, half dragged her out of the club. Her comments and complaints had been a little loud. But seeing the blatant misogyny on display had really got her angry.

Catching her breath she pulled out her phone and scrolled through the dozen or so pictures she had managed to snap. Most were blurry but there were a couple she might be able to edit and use in her report she intended to write. A searing indictment on the how 50 Shades culture and hot it normalised the abuse of women.

She had felt betrayed by those books. She had read all three in a sort of frenzy, like so many of her female friends. But then the realisation of just what she had read kicked in, reinforced by a lecture by one of her tutors, and noted feminist, Katherine Stark. Her scathing analysis of the 50 Shades books had opened Kim's eyes to the truth, and shame and guilt at her initial response had led her to choose to study the whole area of BDSM as part of her ethical studies component of her journalism course.

And that research had led her here, to the socking truth that there was a vibrant and active fetish community here in her city. Well, her city was over the Atlantic Ocean back in the United Kingdom. But in this city she had chosen to make her new home while she was studying, with hopes of becoming a reporter.

Getting thrown out was actually pretty good. She thought with a smile. It would make a great start to her report. Feeling better, and calming down, she made her way to the street to hail a cab.

 

[experimenter73]

"Well, that was certainly quite the scene," Amanda says with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Will replies, shaking his head. "Never a dull moment in the Inferno."

In truth, he had been there on the ground floor, as it were, for the entire scene. From the moment the new girl had entered the place, he had been intrigued by her. She was stunning, of course, and that had been the first thing to catch his eye. When he had seen her arriving alone and not seeking out anyone in particular, it had tickled his imagination.

But it was more than how she looked that caught his attention. She looked markedly out of place. Her outfit screamed that she was trying to fit in with what she imagined she would find here. Instead, she looked like she had stepped out of a low-budget movie set. If a soft-core pornographer ever told a tale of a place like the Inferno, that outfit would be option number 1 for the bad girl dominatrix.

In reality, the dommes at the club were far more likely to dress for comfort, leaving things like thigh high boots for photo ops rather than play time. And the tube top and tight miniskirt she wore would cause no end of wardrobe malfunctions once the fun began.

Still, the girl had drawn plenty of attention and appreciative glances from the men and women of the place, his own included. He had been on the verge of approaching her when she had begun her outburst. And what an outburst it had been, ending with her being escorted out of the club.

Excusing himself from his current conversation, he found himself heading for the exit. As he walked down the hallway and then out the door, he was not entirely sure what he intended. If he was honest with himself, he was truly just interested in getting another peak at the intriguing young woman.

What had brought her out here? If she had come to simply protest the club's activities, she had chosen a peculiar outfit to wear for the work. Had she been interested initially, but then seen something that triggered her? It wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the BDSM community. One never really knew, with new people in particular, what sort of sight or sound might trigger an uncomfortable memory or sensation. Is that what had happened here?

If the girl had looked out of place inside the club, the effect was magnified as she stood on the sidewalk under the street lights. He was once again struck by her slender elegance. Taking a quick breath and shaking his head to clear it a little, he moved to approach her.

"Hello, miss?" he spoke as he drew nearer, announcing himself from further away than he normally would have to try and avoid startling her. "I saw what happened in the club. I'm sorry. I'm sure that was an unpleasant experience for you."

When he gets close to her, he notices just how short she is. Even with the heels of her boots to help her, she barely reaches his shoulder.

He intentionally leaves the apology vague, offering her a warm smile. Not knowing what caused her to lash out, he doesn't have any specific transgression to apologize for.

"I'm Will."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim turned and her eyes flickered up and down assessing him. He was dressed well, smart, but there was a hint of the club about his manner and almost too severe cut of his clothes. Several of the dominant males had dressed like wall street brokers, of course they did, it was for the women to demean themselves with provocative clothing. Was he one of those men? Why else would he have been inside?

But she gave him the benefit of the doubt, for the moment.

He was very tall, well, everyone seemed tall to her, but still, she had to raise her head many degrees to meet his eyes. But she had learned that height wasn't intimidating if you just pretended it wasn't a factor. So she affected a confident, almost arrogant look.

"I'm fine, thank you." She said. "I gather you were inside? Well then, I doubt you could truly understand just how upsetting it might be as a free thinking, empowered women to see her sisters abused like…. Like that."

She was getting angry again.

"I…" she was about to level accusations at this man, but really she had no evidence he 'partook' of what was going on in there. He might have just been curious too. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"Kimberly." She managed. "I'm sorry, I only went in there to see for myself just how far the abusive culture had gone in there. It was worse than I thought. I don't understand how anyone can call that 'fun'. It's degrading and humiliating to those poor women. Frankly, this place should be shut down and those abusers should be facing criminal charges if it were up to me."

She paused, realising she was on the verge of yet another tirade.

"Um… I apologise again. I should not be making assumptions that you are part of… that. I'm a journalist, or… well, to be honest, I'm studying journalism. I am doing a research project on the whole fifty shades nonsense, trying to dig up what really goes on in places like that." She tilted her head in the direction of the club door.

She sighed. "I suggest, if you have any respect for women, that you don't go back in there. I know I won't be." She sniffed and took another deep breath, unaware of the effect on her cleavage.

"I'd better be heading home. Thank you for your concern."

 

[experimenter73]

As Kimberly spoke, he did his best to keep his attention on her face. The image of her slender body, displayed as it is in the delightful outfit, was a sore temptation and one that sought to lure his gaze as temptingly as any Siren calling for wayward sailors.

"Ah yes, 50 Shades of Grey," he said with a genuinely weary sigh. "Such a double-edged sword that one. It certainly has led to a Renaissance of a kind, or perhaps more like an Enlightenment. Though it might have done more harm that good, with such an abusive portrayal."

"I suggest, if you have any respect for women, that you don't go back in there. I know I won't be," Kimberly said, and the words stung.

Though he had, to an extent, come to terms with it, there was still a part of him that felt a level of... guilt... for the things that excited him sexually. He'd spent the first half of his life ashamed of his desires, questioning why these sorts of things brought him pleasure. Even now, his darker urges made him uncomfortable. This left more than one gap in his mental defenses, and her disdain for the Club and its activities pierced him.

He was suddenly glad he was wearing a suit. In the courtroom, it was his armor, allowing him to ignore the barbs from prosecutors and judges. They were not attacking him. They were attacking his role as a defender of the accused. He didn't need to take it personally. He applied the same here, reaching for empathy in place of the defensive hackles that instinctively rose up at her attack. Just like any aggressive prosecutor, she was just assuming the worst of him.

"You know, I toyed with the idea of being a journalist myself, back in college," he answered after a brief moment of recovery. "I remember old Professor Morris hammering home, again and again, that a journalist's first obligation is to the truth. Back then, I always wondered why she spent so much time covering that idea. These days, I think I have a better understanding of that. I think most journalists could use a refresher course on the topic."

He chuckled softly, and then a thought occurred to him.

"I don't think, though, that you found much truth tonight," he says. "I mean, yes, you saw some of the surface stuff. You got a glimpse into the world, and one that obviously rattled you, but I don't think you learned anything about the why. That's a much more difficult answer to find. If I'm honest, it's one that I won't pretend to have the full truth of myself."

In that moment, it was a truly Titanic effort not to let his gaze wander, but he focused his attention on her eyes. Meanwhile, the thoughts that had come to his mind when he'd first seen her enter the club spring to his mind unbidden. Was there something more here? Did she protest because her internal reactions to what she had seen disgusted her? He certainly understood that feeling.

"But if you do want to learn at least my tip of that iceberg, I'd be happy to share my thoughts with you. I know a nice Italian place not far from here. Let me buy you dinner, and you can ask me anything you like."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim gave Will a long look. She wasn't quite sure what his game was. Was this just an elaborate pickup line, or was this a genuine desire to educate? It was hard to discern, not only was he hard to read, it was also dark in the narrow street, the flickering of headlights passing by the end of the street, an intermittent on/off neon sign from further down all served to make his expressions hard to interpret.

She mulled it over in her head. Her story, at the moment, would just be observations and reflections on what she had seen. After her rather headstrong outburst in the club she doubted many people would be even remotely interested in engaging in a more detailed analysis. This could be her only shot.

It was a tantalising possibility, an in depth expose with an actual participant in the abuse. But she would have to be careful, and a restaurant with plenty of people around seemed like a safe bet. And if he thought this was a way to get her into bed, or whatever else he might have had in mind, he would find she was very resistant to men's charms.

"I admit, it would be good to learn more. I think I may have over-reacted slightly and burned whatever bridges I might have hoped to build in there." She laughed ruefully. "Maybe it's my moderate British upbringing, but that place came as something of a culture shock."

She brushed her hair away from her face in a self-conscious gesture.

"I suppose a little conversation would be useful, I'd like to hear your thoughts. So... I guess I'm saying fine, but we go Dutch. I'm a independent spirit and I don't like owing anyone any favours.

She moved a little closer, trying to make out his features more clearly.

"Shall we?"

 

[experimenter73]

He joined in her laugh, glad to see that she had calmed down a little. Until that moment, he hadn't really considered that he might have been setting himself up for a very unpleasant dinner companion.

"Dutch?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and offering a playful grin. "And here I was hoping to get myself a free dinner. Don't journalists pay their sources any more?"

Still smiling, he gestured the direction of the restaurant and then began walking when she did. How long had it been since he'd gone to dinner with a woman? Not counting the occasional diner meeting with a potential client, he couldn't remember the last time.

"Now, I should point out," he said casually as they walked. "Everything I tell you will only be based on my own experiences, peppered here and there with information I've been told by those I've played with. They're just my answers, and I bet you would find differences in the responses of anyone else that you interviewed."

They shortly reached the restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall place. The hostess, a middle-aged woman, recognized him and greeted him by name.

"How's everything with Johnnie?" he asked as she escorted them to a table.

"He's doing great," she replied. "We keep him busy enough here to make sure there's no more time for any of that nonsense."

"Glad to hear it," he smiled as he unbuttoned his suitcoat and then sat.

"So, then," he smiled at his dinner guest across the table. "I imagine, after your experience at the club tonight, you must have a question or two you're dying to ask."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim studied 'Will' intently, if discretely. He was very confident, very sure of himself. In that sense he did resemble the description of Christian Grey, though he was also more affable and seemed genuinely concerned about "Johnnie", whatever that was about.

It made him seem less monstrous and more human, and she had to concede that there were going to be layers to him. She wasn't even sure how much he partook in the activities at the club and beyond, into his own bedroom or dungeon or whatever. Perhaps that was a good way to start.

She nodded.

"You're right, I do have lots of questions, and you are also right, I should not have presumed you would offer to pay, that's actually very bad of me. You're right, I'm the person with the questions. So let's not worry about the bill for now."

She winced inwardly. She wasn't a salaried writer, not yet. Her student loans were enormous, so paying for dinner might be, at least in the short term, crippling to her budget. But if she nailed the report and if that lead to selling the story, maybe even a job, it would be worth it.

"How about you tell me about your role, I presume you are a Dom? You don't come across as very submissive. So tell me about that, how it all works?"

 

[experimenter73]

"You presume correctly," he said with a nod. "In this world, the one you're writing about, I am a Dominant. The term is really a bit more fluid than most people think. What I do," he paused thoughtfully for a moment, "is really more reactive than active. On the surface, seeing me or another Dominant in action at the Club, for example, it might appear that I am exerting my will on a submissive. In truth, that's just a product of an exchange of power that has been carefully negotiated with a submissive."

He stopped there, looking up as a waiter approached the table. He ordered a carafe of the house red.

"It's a Primitivo," he said to Kimberly after he ordered. "Medium-bodied, I feel it pairs with their Bolognese quite well. You're welcome to share."

When the waiter left with their drink order, he returned to answering her question.

"It's all really about that exchange of power. Though I imagine everyone comes at it for their own reason, the thrill comes from the inherent trust accompanying it. She, or he in some cases, trusts me to stay within the boundaries we've agreed to. At the same time, I am to maintain the illusion of control. By keeping the submissive guessing, walking right up to the edge and exploring the edges of those boundaries, the whole experience takes on a life of its own."

And then he shrugs with a soft laugh.

"And, of course, I won't pretend that I don't derive a great deal of pleasure from the activity itself. I won't pretend to fully understand why, but I have always enjoyed the sight of the female form in bondage. Watching a woman realize the extent of her restraint, seeing her struggle, instinctively, to find release and fail... well, that has always been a powerful moment for me. Knowing that she has requested the experience, and is taking pleasure from it as well, is the icing on the cake."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim could not help but notice the careful language he used. 'The world she was writing about', clearly differentiating her idea of that world from his own. She listened, and it was pretty much as she expected. It tallied with many things she had heard said.

Oh and the wine… she knew immediately what that was, a power play. Showing his knowledge of wine, wielding that knowledge as a weapon to show his inherent superiority. It got under her skin and she rankled at his arrogant attitude. Her anger bubbled beneath the surface with his implication that she would not understand or appreciate the wine or it's suitability.

Of course he was completely correct in that but that was not the bloody point! It was his presumption that got her blood boiling. The condescension in his manner.

"I see." She said, trying to keep her cool and not let her anger get the better of her. She had to keep that simmering, but not bubbling over.

"so you are saying, in all sincerity, that the women you… " she tried to avoid the word abuse, "… interact with, are totally comfortable with it all, that they want that, accept it, need it? See that's what I just don't get. Why would anyone who is rational and sensible and sane want to be hurt, want to be treated like a slave? It makes no sense. It smacks of brainwashing. I just think you are all manipulative bastards whop trick gullible and naïve girls into thinking this is OK, that's it's normal and totally what they should be doing. I don't believe for a second these girls get any actual pleasure from the experience except by being tricked into thinking pleasing men is a valid and worthwhile goal."

"You talk about the illusion of control, but when a girl is tied up, helpless, and gagged, there's no way to… what is it, safeword? You can do what you like, they don't get any say. How is that different to rape?"

The challenge was strong, her language provocative.

Shit, OK maybe that last line was a bit strong.

 

[experimenter73]

Will quickly realized that something he had said or done has crossed one of his dinner companion's invisible lines. Her hackles were rising again, and there was nothing short of attack in her tone. Restrained attack, perhaps, but there was no doubt she was cross.

"Well, first off, I have never been involved in a scene where there was not a viable, usable, safeword," he said, meeting her growing anger with calm. "There are submissive women who swim in those waters, but it's not territory I explore. And, while it's true that intelligible speech can be difficult with a gag in place, people in this community can be remarkably creative. Typically, we'll agree to a song to be hummed, or a gesture to be made, that will serve as a safeword in those cases."

He raised an eyebrow, then lets the topic lapse for a moment when the wine is delivered. There was no tasting ceremony or smelling of corks with the carafe. It was simply placed on the table with a nod from the waiter, accompanied by a pair of glasses. He told the man they would need more time before ordered, and continued speaking when they were alone again.

"Over the years, I have had a lot of women attempt to describe to me why they enjoy these sorts of activities. No two have been exactly the same. Most have included something similar to what I described: a deep thrill simply from the experience on some animalistic sort of level."

Reaching for the carafe, he poured himself a glass. He didn't pour one for Kimberly, only gesturing to the carafe for her. He took a sip, smiled, and then set the glass back on the table.

"But I have discovered what I believe is one other common thread between them. If you'll indulge me, I'll explain my theory," he said, leaning back a little in his seat. "Among my vanilla friends, those not in the BDSM community, there is a common complaint from the women about their husbands and significant others. When they catch their partners' eyes wandering, it plants a little seed of doubt in their minds. With each occurrence, that seed grows. They begin to wonder if they have lost their luster... if they no longer thrill their partner as they once did. Is he thinking of someone else when he lays with me? Is he thinking of her?"

"I do not hear similar fears and complaints as often from my friends in this community. There is a special intimacy, I think, to knowing that you are fulfilling the deepest and most inherent fantasies of your lover. I'm sure you can imagine that even sharing with another that you're into this sort of thing can be a daunting prospect. And when I am acting as a dominant, my mind can be nowhere else. My entire focus is on the moment, on crafting our scene exactly as she has envisioned, and, maybe, a little more. She is my world, and there is no other."

His voice grew a little more distant as he spoke, as if his mind were partaking in a memory. Then, he shook his head and picked up his wine glass again.

"But I'm a lawyer, not a psychologist, so you can take that for what it's worth. I don't know if any of that even made any sense." He laughed. "Maybe it might work a little better if I showed you what I meant."

His eyes went wide then as he realized what he'd said and how it would likely be construed. A flush began to rise on his cheeks.

"No, sorry, not as bad as that probably sounded. I'm talking about something we can do right here in the restaurant, at the table. Nothing lewd or improper. But an exercise that might make more sense than my rambling."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim made an effort to listen, she knew that she had to try and at least attempt to see his point of view, but it just sounded like the same old misogynistic arguments to justify treating women like crap. Did he really believe what he was selling here? That women were queuing up to be tied and abused? And he was so confident, so sure he was right s me 'mansplained' it to her. He actually thought this sort of relationship was stronger? Healthier? The absurdity of it almost made her laugh out loud.

Show her? Was he kidding?

Did he think he could.. what? Convert her? That was funny!

But he seemed to have something else in mind, and he was intrigued.

"I'm game to see what you think you could possibly do here that would illustrate your point." She said, with just a note of challenge in her voice.

 

[experimenter73]

It wasn’t difficult for him to see that the reporter-to-be was not engaged with what me was saying. Still, he did not allow her obvious contempt to dissuade him from the attempt. Any opportunity to talk through these sorts of things, he’d found, was therapeutic in its own way.

When he finally made the offer, he did not believe there was any chance she would take him up on it. So he was surprised even she said she was game.

Well then, he thought to himself, let’s see where this goes.

“The waiter will return to take our orders any moment now. Until and while he does so, I would like you to do something for me.”

Will narrows his eyes a little as he looks into hers.

“Lean back in your chair a little. Feel where the top of it makes contact with your back. Become conscious of that contact, and do your best to keep that same position.”

“Place your hands on the table, however they feel comfortable. Until the waiter leaves us, keep them in that position, whatever it might be.”

“There is no reward for doing so. No one aside from us will even recognize you’re doing these things. It will be our little secret.”

“But your hands will have my complete attention. I will note their every movement. Consider me your captive audience, and I will be pleased if they do not stay from their simple task.”

With that said, he moves his gaze to her hands as the waiter begins to approach, fully expecting that same hand to flip him the bird.

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim tilted her head in confusion. It seemed like an odd thing to ask, but she grasps the concept, it was about control, having her do something exactly as instructed. It went against the grain to just do what he asked, as much because it was a man asking as opposed to that particular men. But that whole point of her being here, with him, was to try and understand his point of view in the interest of true objectivity. There was no danger to her.

So, she placed her hands flat on the table. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it would mean she could control her movements better. She sat a little stiffly, aware of the back of the chair, and she found herself watching his expression and his eyes.

Was he really going to focus on her hands?

She became acutely away of a few things. Her nail polish was flaking a little. Her right had with that one rather large freckle, the light bands on a couple of her fingers. She'd been going through one of her occasionally goth-lite phases earlier in the year and had worn a few rings, but she'd got bored and stopped wearing them a few weeks ago, but the bands were still just about noticeable. Was he looking? What did he make of her small, slender finger?

Why did she care what he thought?

She tried to keep still while they waited. It was surprisingly hard not to fidget.

 

[experimenter73]

Will is surprised when his dinner companion sets her hands one the tabletop. He immediately focuses his attention on them. They are lovely hands, he finds, in a very real and human way. These are not the artificially smooth and unblemished things one finds in jewelry advertisements or dish soap commercials. These fingers tell a story, and he invests himself in it.

"The chef has a few specials if you'd like to hear them?" the waiter asks.

"Of course," Will answers without looking up, leaving his gaze on those hands.

He barely listens while the waiter goes into his carefully prepared description of the special dishes on offer. He notes the state of her nail polish. Kimberly had obviously put no small effort into how she dressed for the night. In the periphery of his vision, he can still see the woman's bare midriff. But she had not taken the time to reapply the color to her nails. What did that say about how she had approached the experience?

"Those sound delicious, but I find I cannot resist Marco's Bucatini with Bolognese. Every time I stray from that order, I find myself regretting the decision after the night is done."

"An excellent choice," the waiter says. Will can hear the man's smile, but he does not see it.

"And for the lady?"

Will considers ordering for her, but suppresses the urge. He's already been too forward, he fears, in asking for the task with her hands. He keeps his focus on them, finding the prominent freckle on her right. He can see the faint impression that she had been recently wearing rings. Was she divorced? She seems young for that, and the fact that there is more than one now missing suggests something else.

If the waiter has shown any acknowledgement of the fact that Will's eyes have not left the tabletop, he has no idea. Will gathers up the menus from the table as the man finishes and absently hands them up without looking.

Only when the other man has gone does Will finally lift his gaze up to smile at Kimberly. He thinks for a moment, deciding what to say. His eyes stare into hers, looking for any hint there.

"How did that make you feel?"

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim found the whole experience odd. A lot of strange and contradictory sensations. On the one hand it felt weird to just sit there, pretty much unmoving while the waiter did his thing. Kim did notice Will barely shifted his gaze, studying her hands. That made her blush. It was shockingly intimate in a way she could not explain or understand. She could recall a time when a man's eyes had been fixed on her hands rather than her arse, or her tits, or even her face. Why did it make her blush then?

It was even weirder when the waiter came. She listened to him distractedly.

"Uhmm, Pollo Diavola, is it a whole chicken or a half?... ah, I see, just a half please, and how spicy is the sausage? Ah, yes that will do. Molto gracie."

Once the waiter left she smiled. "I like Bolognese, but I don't think I could manage anything that heavy at the moment.

She left her hands there for another moment till he spoke.

"I… I'm not sure, it was very strange. I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean to demonstrate, but I did think it was interesting, and it was nice to have someone staring at my hands instead of… well, other places. But I think you meant the not moving part?"

She paused to consider.

"I.. don't know. I think I have a vague inkling of what you might be getting at, the fact I could move but chose not to as I was 'obeying' an instruction? Is that what you are getting at? Or is it more that the fact I was not 'allowed' to move, supposed to be the stimulating factor?"

 

[experimenter73]

He shrugged in response, the smile staying on his lips.

"I didn't actually mean any particular part, and I guess that was really my point. Like I said earlier, everyone comes at these sorts of things from their own perspective. I asked the question because I was curious what it might have been like for you."

He paused, taking another sip of his wine. He closed his eyes as he swallowed.

"And I would say that I think the exercise might have missed its mark. From your response, it seems you might have been a little too much in your head to actually consider how it felt. Your focus was a on me, and on trying to discern what I intended. On that note, you were close to the mark, though. It is always a pleasure for me to be able to just look, and to enjoy the sight of the thing I gaze upon. For the other part, it was not so much the fact that you were 'obeying' me. It was, rather, that you chose to do it. You trusted, in a limited fashion, that there was a purpose to my request. You decided to attempt to learn what it was about."

His eyes wandered back to her hands then, seeing what they were up to now that the exercise was over. He sighed.

"I suppose it was a silly exercise, really. You weren't going to learn much here in a noisy restaurant and with so little lead-up. I wish that you had come by a few months ago. There was a woman who was frequenting the Inferno then. She was interested in the lifestyle, recently awakened to it through some naughty novel or other, but rather timid about the process. It was an interesting and eye-opening experience, taking it all very slow with her. Documenting her experience might have been a great source of insight for your article."

The next words left his mouth seemingly of their own accord. Perhaps it was the wine, he would later think, because the offer was far more forward than he had any right to be with this skeptical woman.

"Of course, I could always show you what the experience was like for her. I could arrange for the use of one of the private rooms at the club. Nothing would happen that you did not agree to in advance. But if you wanted a real view of what it all involves, nothing could top personal experience."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim found herself frowning, she had a vague sense of what he was trying to convey but it seemed nonsensical to her that any sane women would surrender her will so readily. Could there be any truth at all in what he was saying? It was hard to believe.

But perhaps in this she was her own worst enemy, she found it hard to surrender her need to manage and control. And he was right, this wasn't the right environment for her to get into the mindset of what a girl might feel. But his next comments drew her up short.

"Wait, what?"

She had heard hi, but she wasn't sure she could believe what she had heard.

"What.. you want to… show me, in a playroom?"

Her mind flitted to the scenes in 50 shades. OK, they had been somewhat hot, but Anastasia's reactions had been completely a male fantasy, a girl loving being spanked and flicked with a crop while bound. It was just male ego. It wasn't real!"

Was it?

There was par tof her that was tempted, just to prove him wrong, just to show how utterly nonsensical his ideas were. But to put herself in a position of helplessness…"

"And just why would I believe, for a second, that once you had me… helpless, you would honour that promise? For all I know I could never be seen again!"

She thought.

"I don't suppose you'd let me record the 'session' and stream it to my cloud server? I could text a friend of mine with instructions to check on the server tomorrow if she doesn't get a tect form me in the morning."

It was a challenge she had no doubt he would decline.

 

[experimenter73]

Her first reaction to the offer was even worse than what he expected. He was left speechless for a moment. Never seen again? What sort of place did she think the Inferno was? What kind of person did she think he was? The answers to both of those questions were obvious, and not flattering.

He had expected her to laugh. As soon as the offer left his mouth, he had realized there was no chance she would agree to it. So, the question that followed was all the more surprising.

“That wouldn’t be a problem. You could bring a friend if you wanted, too. That’s common practice, in the beginning. Though a lot of people don’t have someone they trust with this side of their life in the beginning.”

His mind raced through some logistics, still not truly believing it might actually happen.

“We would start with a two hour session. I would arrange for the room and email you the details of what to expect for the encounter. You would sign a copy when you arrived.”

He slid a business card across to her, which included the physical address of his office, phone number, and email address.

“Does that sound reasonable to you?”

 

[CuteDragon]

When had this gone from a nonsensical notion to booking a date and time?

She mentally traversed back through the conversation trying to see how that shift had happened. But now she actually thought about it, perhaps it wasn't a completely crazy idea. There was no way she would have someone else watching her get tied up or whatever he was imagine might happen. But if h was up for her setting strict safeguard and emergency contacts, then perhaps getting an insight, some photos of the 'room' and being able to call him on his bullshit… then maybe.

"I… would have to think about it. But to be clear this would be you explaining and maybe showing me some of what goes on, but you are not touching me sexually, I want to make that clear. This would be an investigate piece of journalism, nothing more."

She felt more and more excited at the prospect of challenging him on his own turf could actually be pretty delicious.

"Yes, that could work. I see how it might be the only way to be certain. And I can record our conversations and interactions? That would be essential."

 

[experimenter73]

He took another sip from his glass as he considered her answer. Private play time at the Inferno did not come cheap. He did not relish the idea of paying for it and then having the time spent there be nothing more than a conversation and a glorified tour of the facility. He also recognized, though, that pushing for an agreement to more at this moment is likely to end in failure. He set the glass back down on the table before speaking.

"I had not thought there would be any sexual contact, so that is no issue."

She had been game for his little exercise with her hands. Could he take that as some sign that a visit to the club with her would be productive?

"Yes, of course, you can record everything that happens. And I'm open to you using any of the information you gather as part of your article."

The memory of his initial thoughts when he saw her enter the club was enough to push him over the edge to make a decision. Money be damned, if there was even a chance of getting her into some restraints, it was worth the chance.

"Contrary to what you think of what happens at the Inferno, I can assure you that nothing would happen to you there without your explicit consent. The founding principles of the club are that everything that happens within stay safe, sane, and consensual. All three of those tenets would apply in this case."

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim wasn't entirely sure she believed he had not expected sexual contact. Surely that was the point of all this BDSM nonsense, bind them, beat them, fuck them. It was primal and male and just… ugly.

But he seemed sincere, or was very good at appearing sincere. So she tried to take him at his word, knowing she would have several safeguards in place if she did not come out of that 'playroom' with an hour or two of the supposed ending time.

Wait… I'm seriously doing this? Am I crazy?

She suddenly had doubts. What if he did touch her, what if… more happened than she wanted, sure safeguards were all well and good after the fact but… no, if she wanted a proper piece of investigative journalism, she was going to have to be brave. She might one day be reporting in a war zone, or a prison or a home where children had been abused. She needed to develop courage and armour.

I'm going to do this!

"Fine, I accept your kind offer. Tell me where and when, and I'll be there."

She tilted her chin up defiantly, showing she wasn't afraid.

Yeah…right.

 

[experimenter73]

He moved the conversation onto more mundane topics for the remainder of dinner, asking her about her hometown and what she thinks of the States. He didn't want to risk veering into any territory that might make her second-guess her decision. He was going to have the hottest woman who had ever walked into the Inferno in a private playroom. The thought was as intoxicating as the wine.

Their meal, as he had expected it would be, was on the house. After what he had done for Johnnie, his money was no good there. He tried not too look too smug when she discovered that there was no tab to split.

When they finished and parted ways, he felt like he was walking on a cloud on the way home, though he tried not to let himself get his hopes up too high. It might all go poorly in the end. He knew there was a very real chance of that. But, still, it was nice to dream and enjoy the promise of what might be.

The use of the playroom was easy enough to arrange. His schedule was flexible, so he scheduled it for early in the day. In part, because he felt like she would be less apprehensive of a meeting while the sun was still shining. In part, because the rooms were a little cheaper then than in their more desirable late-night slots. Still, the deposit for the room was no small number.

When it was all settled, he sat down to send her an email with the details.

Kimberly,

Everything is arranged. We will meet at the Inferno at 3 PM. You might be happy to know that Carl, the gentleman who saw you out, will be off shift.

Attached, please find the contract I mentioned. The club prefers that we have written documentation, particularly for the first time. As a lawyer, I tend to err on the side of caution. I fear it is much less thrilling a read than the one in 50 Shades.

You are welcome to make any edits to the document that you see fit. We can discuss them by email or in person when we meet.

Sincerely,

Will

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim started at the 'contract' for the longest time.

She'd spent a little time researching and found that there was nothing legally binding in such a document, but she understood that it served to outline what was, and what was not OK. It also, she thought to herself, abrogates Simmons from any accusations unless he strayed beyond the remit.

She supposed, trying to be fair-minded, that given her stated goals, it was a reasonable request. That brought her to a sudden understanding of the risk Simmons was actually taking. She had stated that she felt he was a misogynist, hell she had almost accused him of being a sexual predator. That tempered her feelings. Why was he reaching out like this, it was very dangerous, even the suspicion of abuse could get him in trouble.

That really brought her up short. It made her think, and it was what gave her the bravery to sign the document.

For the safe word, the almost put something twee. But then she thought about it. For some reason, Pizza sprang to mind. So she wrote that down, For the safe song, she supposed that was if you were gagged… she chose the only song that fitted. 'That's Amore'. She sang the words softly and them hummed along.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big Pizza Pie, that's amore!"

The fantasy part left her scratching her head. What on earth did she put there? Her sexual experience was very Limited. She wasn't even sure she had ever experienced an orgasm. Her friends waxed lyrical about knew tremblers, and waves on the rocks, but the most she had ever felt when indulging herself had been mild pleasure. No climaxes or crashing waves.

She did have fantasies, even after reading those books, regardless of her feelings about Grey, the sex had been hot in places, and some had got her quite hot under the collar. But she wasn't going to write down that she might like to be fucked in bondage.

Flushed, she just wrote N/A for that part, scanned it, and sent it back via the email he had given her.

 

[experimenter73]

Will arrived early to the Inferno, stopping into the business office. This particular room lacked the flavor and feel of the rest of the establishment, as if to say that only business is to be discussed here.

"I've got the contract for my session this afternoon," he said, handing the document over.

"Paper? I knew you were a sadist, but you're actually going to make me dust off the scanner?" Barbara laughed, the piercings in her lip and nose glittering.

"Of course," he winked. "My cruelty knows no bounds. But, really, I just thought I should give you a heads up about this one. There's a bit of a chance this one could go sideways."

"Oh? What's the issue?"

She thinks we're all sick perverts and sexual predators who prey on the unwilling, he thinks but doesn't say. Barbara doesn't need to know the whole story.

"Well, you remember the girl that Carl had to escort out the other night? It's her."

"Shit, Will, are you kidding me? What the hell are you thinking?"

"She's a reporter. Well, she's in school to be a reporter anyways. She's working on a story and, yes, she got a little worked up that night."

"A little worked up?"

"Maybe more than that. But, I talked to her after and she doesn't seem completely unreasonable. I offered to let her experience a bit of what the Inferno is really all about. I thought, maybe, I could take a little bite out of what she ends up writing. Maybe it won't make a difference, but I can't help but feel like if she goes on the rampage about this place, somebody is going to pick it up and publish it."

Barbara leaned back in her office chair, shaking her head. Will reached up to adjust his tie, feeling as though the room had gotten a little hotter.

"You might be right," she sighed. "Listen, I'll run a check to make sure the cameras and microphones are all up an running in your room. We'll record the whole thing so you don't end up in the middle of some nasty 'he said, she said' mess. And I'll put this contract in the safe, though we both know it doesn't mean much."

He was filled with an odd mix of dread and anticipation as he finished up with Barbara and then headed to the assigned room. As he walked through it, making some preparations, he considered how he should proceed when she arrived. Part of that would be dependent on how she was dressed. He had considered making some basic requests in his email to her, but the idea of asking her to wear something tight or form-fitting had felt like it would be read the wrong way. No, he had known it would be.

If she arrived wearing anything like she had worn the first night here, however, it would certainly make his job more complicated. That thought made his heart beat a little faster. God, no matter what she was wearing, this was going to be complicated. He took off his sports jacket and hung it on a hook, then rolled up his sleeves.

He occupied himself by setting out the potential items on a table by the side of the room: some lengths of rope, a set of leather cuffs with accompanying chains, a bit and a ball gag. It was just as it had been with the other woman he had mentioned to Kimberly. Of course, in that other case, every step of what was going to happen in their first session had been carefully mapped out. Here, Will was flying by the seat of his pants.

He then re-familiarized himself with the massive wooden frame that dominated the center of the room. It was crafted of thick wood timbers in the shape of a large box. All over the top and sides of it, secure rings were set firmly into the beams. It was strong enough to support whoever was restrained to it. Hell, he was pretty sure it was strong enough to support a horse.

Satisfied that he had done everything he could to prepare, he waited for Kimberly to arrive and be shown to the room.

 

[CuteDragon]

Kim debated for some time what she should wear. That was after the umpteenth review of her sanity in even agreeing to this in the first place. It was a crazy idea, but at the same time she was excited about the story she could write, the commitment to engage and to try and see both sides as a good reporter should.

Which meant she was going to do this.

Which brought her back to a choice of wardrobe.

There were a number of factors to be considered. Comfort for one. If she was going to be tied up, and she could still not quite believe she was going to allow this, then something soft and comfortable made sense. At first she had thought about jeans, boots, a t-shirt and waistcoat or sweater. That would be unlikely to offer ay ambiguity to the situation, it was about as unsexual as she could think of.

But then she thought about if that would influence her experience. If she was going in with the mind set of being determined already that this was a bad thing, would b unpleasant and uncomfortable, was she prejudicing hr research?

Logically for the most authentic experience she probably ought to dress in a suitable manner. She had no latex or fetish ware, but she did have lingerie.

But would that also be sending the wrong message? What if he got the wrong idea or could not control his urges? She knew she was a beautiful woman,. In man's world it was hard to not know when all you got was ogling, leers and getting hit on regularly.

Was she being unkind? He didn't seem like an animal who could not control himself, he seemed to genuinely show her his point of view.

In the end she settled for a middle ground. A simple pair of high gloss black heels. Hold up thigh high stockings, which she wore often anyway for convenience so she didn't feel uncomfortable. A short denim skirt, and one of her favourite batwing tops.

It was casual, loose fitting so would offer comfort, while not being too sexy or too prissy.

She had arranged with her friend Becky that if she had not heard an OK from Kim by 9am the following morning, to open the timer controlled password protected file she had sent her. The email would have details of hr location and Wil's contact information. Hopefully Kim would b able to stop the file send at 8:59 so Becky would not see what she had been doing. Assuming all was well.

That done, and with her phone fully charged, she set off for the appointment.

https://odoo-b4a7.kxcdn.com/web/image/product.product/33907/image_zoom

https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/71Vk9Ma5sFS._AC_UL320_.jpg